#scoundrel

[eliotbaum]

The Scoundrel ✨ A character class for The Hidden Isle.

[soupmanspeaks]

So Michael Afton, huh?

[lajulie24]

Scoundrel

For Han/Leia Appreciation Week 2024 ( @hanleiacelebration ) - Day 5: Favorite scene / Favorite quote

“Sometimes it does a girl good to fall for a bit of a scoundrel now and then.”

— Breha Organa, Leia, Princess of Alderaan by Claudia Gray

“You like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

— Han Solo, The Empire Strikes Back

“I’m not a politician anymore, Han. I’ve come over to the scoundrel side of the Force.”

— Leia Organa Solo, The New Jedi Order - Enemy Lines II: Rebel Stand by Aaron Allston

[captainkurosolaire]

Gonna need t' get my shite together, if I'm t' win ye lovers-ov'-land back. Time for our romance-arc, aye?

[walkawaytall]

This is something I thought was funny when I heard about the various story threads at the Star Wars hotel, and it’s something that remains funny to me now: Star Wars marketing keeps using “scoundrel” to indicate a category of person, the same way one might use “Jedi” or “Sith”. I’m pretty sure they just mean “someone who probably works for a crime ring”, and I suppose “scoundrel” is a lot catchier than “common criminal” (and more likely to attract anyone who’s ever wanted to be Han Solo before he joined the good guys or whatever), but I will never not find this funny.

Like, “scoundrel” is just a thing Leia called Han one time when she was flirting with insulting him; I don’t think it was intended to be interpreted as the universal GFFA term for Space Criminal.

[swtor-kohta]

Kras, Nian, & Koh Tah are now on SWTOR!

If you are playing on Satele Shan, you'll likely see me running around as one of my three cathar ocs on there!

Koh Tah is currently level 58 while Nian and Kras are level 22 atm <3

Some facts about them:

Koh Tah in-game is an Imperial Agent - Scoundrel

Kras in-game is a Sith Warrior - Juggernaut

Nian in-game is a Jedi Knight - Guardian

[mytragedyperson]

I hope Mitchell and Skandar are best friends by the end of this series, if not the first book. Bobby and Flo too but Mitchell going from low-key fearing and disliking Skandar and seeing Scoundrel as an abomination to being best friends with Skandar and being like, if you want to hurt Skandar or Scoundrel, you have to g through me, would be everything.

Also can I just say, I love these characters so far. Skandar being socially awkward and not knowing how to interact. And Flo being just very nervous about this entire thing. So far they all feel very human. None of them are perfect, which I like.

Also the spirit element opens up a bigger thing here, because there's a lot of secrecy from the island which does kinda make sense but then they also expect Mainland riders to have the same knowledge as Island riders even though they purposely keep information from them. Like Skandar is lucky that he met Mitchell and Flo first because imagine you're from the mainland, you bond with a unicorn, and you think this is really cool. Then you go back to join everywhere else and are promptly killed for having a forbidden unicorn, which you didn't even know existed. It just seems weird. Also the fact that making these unicorns forbidden because of the Weaver actually just makes them become wild so gives the Weaver more unicorns to possibly control? Doesn't seem like the smartest way of doing things.

I'm honestly loving this book so far. Do we know how many there will be? There were six years mentioned so will there be six books? Or is the third the last one?

Edit: I looked it up, five books and an in-world novella.

[izmaddieyt]

HES STEALING

CRIMINAL

Snatchin ma food>:O

Bonus mlem

[fruitcage]

[why-i-love-comics]

She-Hulk #13 (2023)

written by Rainbow Rowell art by Andres Genolet, Joe Quinones, Dee Cunniffe, & Bryan Valenza

[pangeen]

“ Arctic scoundrel II “ // Dennis Johann Aydogan

[cowardlysimon]

Posted Rapscallion, so now you get Scoundrel

[comicsiswild]

She-Hulk (2022) #14

[captainkurosolaire]

They're HERE! ~ Calling all hearties! He's HERE! ~ Brace your stance! ...I'm here. ~ (Additional dialogue below-cut, special thanks as well)

"...Ahoy ye, Chum-Buckets-Heads." "Just th' two of ye, today? We can wait fer more." "Naughty, momma Admiral, forgot t' pack yer lunch?" "But Daddy's home n' ...he's got th' memorable punch!"

(Special shout-out to the one-the-always of splendor, a moon goddess, a lifetime friend of mine of sheer-bountiful-treasure! @nini-dirthara-lothlenanas for Captain's design. I implore them highly for commission.)

[newtristram]

Lyndon the Scoundrel - Diablo III & Diablo IV

[draculasfavoritewife]

I Still Want You

Summary: It's been awhile since the two of you last worked together, but some things will never change.

Pairing: Madmartigan x fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief references to injury and alcohol use, some sexist jokes and sensuality (look, I physically cannot stop writing about reader running their fingers through pretty men's hair, alright? It's an actual problem guys).

So my family finally made me sit down and watch the original Willow film this past summer, and I ended up pretty smitten with this man lol. What can I say, the fallen-from-grace type with a flexible moral code and piercing eyes just really does it for me I guess. 🤷🏽‍♀️ (Also young Val Kilmer in drag? Kinda hot.)

"I don't know why the hell I let you talk me into this load of bull," you groan, a hand covering your exasperated face. "Why, in the name of all that's holy, did I leave behind my honest living to follow you into this harebrained scheme?"

The man next to you throws you a wide and winning smile, blue eyes flashing in the dim light. "Cause you didn't want me to come back to you dead," he says with a knowing smugness. "You love me."

"Did I say that?"

"You didn't have to," he teases, leaning down to saucily kiss your forehead before readjusting the woman's dress that doesn't quite fully hide his very masculine form. "Now, how do I look?"

You roll your eyes and crawl to your feet in the cramped cellar where he had chosen to make his quick change. "He's going to see through you in a second."

Your companion frowns, dark brows sulky and full lips pouting like a petulant child. "Please. The old oaf's such a lusty pig he's going to see exactly what he wants to see and fall head over heels for me. Believe me, it's happened before." He hurriedly stuffs the bodice of the dress until he has quite the impressive bust, and it's suddenly all you can do not to laugh out loud at the sight of him.

"I'm not sure you can slander other men until you finally start thinking with what's above your own belt," you chide, helping him wrangle his long, sooty-black locks beneath a headscarf. As always, you're momentarily distracted by how soft his hair stays, even though you know he does the bare minimum to care for it.

"I do think pink is definitely your color though, Mads."

"Shut up," he growls half-seriously. "We all do what we have to. A man's gotta eat, you know."

You snort. "Right. Because that's the old Madmartigan I remember. Always strictly practical, and definitely not getting in over his head robbing a rich man when he could find some honest work."

"Where at? A brothel?"

You move to slap his chest, but never make contact. It feels wrong somehow, now that his enormous false bosom is in the way.

Madmartigan sees the discomfort on your face and snickers. "Not to worry, Sweets. Your beautiful wife will return to you in one piece, trust me."

He presses a fond kiss to your cheek and turns around to the cellar door, ready to make a move on his unsuspecting target.

And promptly lets out a muffled yelp as you slap his ass.

"What the hell, Sweets?! What was that for?"

You smirk and make yourself more comfortable atop a large bag of flour, to wait out the results of his loosely formed "plan". Chances are he might have to call for backup if things get sticky.

"We women have to put up with that all the time from you 'lusty pigs'. Thought you should get used to it sooner rather than later."

"Insolent fox," he mutters, and hastily leaves, as if afraid you'll smack him again.

You might have, too.

Man's got a fine ass.

"Hold still, idiot," you scold as he flinches away from the wet cloth in your hand for the seventh time. "Do you want my help with that bloody lip or not?"

"I don't know why you're so angry," he grouses. "You're not the one that got their clothes torn off and beaten up for not actually being a woman."

"Oh, stop whining. You got out of there with the gold you came for and the other guy is worse off than you. And it's my dress that got sacrificed, so I think I've every right to complain." You gesture to the shredded pink material hanging around his waist, now the only thing preserving your disheveled warrior's dignity.

He at least has the grace to look momentarily contrite. "Right. I'll get you a new one."

You're slightly concerned by the fact that he doesn't explicitly use the word "buy", but decide to let it go for now. Many of the gifts he's given you throughout the course of your years-long friendship have shady origins, but it is the thought that counts.

And honestly, you're just glad he's not hanging up in a crow cage left for dead somewhere again.

His sharp eyes soften as he finally lets you finish tending to him. "Why did you really come along with me?" he asks bluntly. "I have nothing with which to bribe you, and you have built yourself a life here. When you made the decision to quit while we were ahead and go straight, I didn't understand, but I think I understand you even less now."

Not wanting to meet that deeply piercing ice-blue gaze, you study his lips instead, transfixed as ever by their perfect, sweeping curves. He can dress in animal skins like a barbarian and be constantly covered in ash and dirt, but the refined features of the noble knight he once was are never hidden completely, try as he might.

"I asked you a question, Sweets."

"Maybe I missed you, you boor." Unsettled, you smack him with the damp cloth and abruptly turn away to stoke the fire.

"Why?" You can't tell if he's genuinely lost or fishing for a particular answer from you. "You have a little bit of land, you're a respected herbalist, and I'm sure you've had more than a few offers of courtship since I saw you last."

Is that jealousy simmering behind his careless words?

You smirk over your shoulder. "Please. Herbalist is just two degrees south of witch around here. Men fear me."

He rises to his feet and comes up behind you, his large hands settling on your upper arms and rubbing gentle lines from your shoulders down to your elbows and back again. "I've missed being ripped to shreds by that razor-sharp tongue."

"Have you." You sigh softly as you lean back against his broad chest; without the barrier of one of his leather-and-fur shirts, all you can smell is him, a warm, welcome scent you hadn't forgotten in all the time since you last parted ways. Your bodies melt into each other with old familiarity, prompting a rush of memories of huddling together for warmth during long winters on the run, posing as husband and wife for hustling heists, his arm wrapped tightly around you on horseback.

All the little things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. The intimately shared moments that had made it so hard to leave him. But you had felt like you needed to protect your heart somehow.

After all, at the time he had seemed far more content to remain unbound to anyone, even you.

"I have another question," he murmurs, his lips now only a hair's breadth from the stretch of exposed skin at your collarbone.

"And that would be...?" You stifle a shiver, his hot breath skimming your neck and sending prickles of anticipation dancing across your body in all directions.

His cheek rests against yours. "That time I tried to kiss you, do you remember that night?"

Your hands tense, unconsciously grasping fistfuls of the torn dress fabric still hanging from his belt; there's a minuscule hitch to his breath at the sudden feeling of your hands at his hips.

"Yes."

"Why did you run away from me?"

The raw uncertainty running beneath that simple question makes you turn to face him again, acutely aware of the feeling of him against you, the hard muscles of his chest pressing into the softness of yours, his hands sliding down to linger in the curve of your back. There is no judgment in his handsome face, only a twinge of long-hidden hurt and real curiosity.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his thick dark hair, loving the way the glossy strands slide across your skin. It's gotten so long, and your hands itch to weave it into slender braids like you used to.

"I'm pretty sure you were drunk, Mads. And I...I just wasn't fully ready," you admit.

"I still want you," he tells you softly. "I never stopped wanting you, even when you left."

You smile as he bends to rest his forehead against yours. "And I would still kill for you."

"Gods, you know it drives me crazy when you talk like that." He leans in even further, eyes dancing in the glow from the firelight. "How do you feel tonight?"

Your hands trail down again to cradle his face. "I think I'm ready now. I've missed you."

So you kiss him.

You're not surprised he's such a good kisser, but maybe more than a little startled that there's a real gentleness in him, a smooth temperance to his wildly passionate expression of love. And as the sweet reality of having him alive and solid and in your arms once again after so long finally sets in, you realize what you truly want with crystal clarity.

"Take this ridiculous thing off," you breathe as your lips finally part and you tug at his tattered skirt.

"You sure?" It takes him a second to figure out what you're really asking. "Cause I don't have anything else --"

You laugh and silence him with another kiss, guiding his hands to the laces of your corset and watching his expression change from one of surprise to warmth and hunger as he swiftly helps you undress.