etain tur-mukan: jedi knight

Independent Star Wars blog for Jedi Knight Etain Tur-Mukan in the Clone Wars Era. Etain briefly commands the 41st Elite Corps and then takes part in special operations.

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[etaintur-mukan]

Mereel spoke--a word unfamiliar to her, Mando’a or not.

The feel of his lips against her mouth could have lifted her out of the cockpit. She arched her back to better meet him, while his whispers gave her chills, and his hands elicited a soft yelp as he teased her.

“That--hurt,” she gasped, her legs squeezing his waist. “I...” Her skin burned with the sensation of wanting more. Even as she tried to contain the reaction to his touches, he had gone on exploring, lower, and deeper. She clutched at his back, eyelids fluttering shut, and faintly, a moan escaped her.

“Mereel.” Etain hardly recognized her own voice, trapped in her chest, a purr. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his touch until she had it. Her hips raised, a reflex to feel more of his touch. She held on tight to him and let her head nod back. “Yes.” 

[winterwools]

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Recover | Chvrches

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"Whoa, so excited to see me?" He grins as he tosses the fruit he’d … procured on the way there up into the air and caught again. A bite, and he’s chewing, leaning against the door. 

Bad habit, one he picked up from his last op, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

[etaintur-mukan]

"Excited to see anyone, really." She watches the fruit land in his hand and reach his lips, then she focuses back on his eyes. "I suppose I shouldn't be complaining about it being quiet out here."

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        "Mereel!"  Etain angles her head down, relieved, but not yet sure if he was here on Kal's orders or his own. "It's good to see you."

[justamandalorian-blog]

"Good to know. For your sake, I hope it has gone well. It would be unfortunate should it not." She’d have smiled but her helmet would have erased the gesture. Miri honestly didn’t care which way this war swung. Mandalore and the Mandalorians would continue regardless, no matter what that idiot Spar thought and so long as the war went on, it meant easy credits selling information or protection to desperate parties on both sides of the conflict. 

"Anything is better than the alternative when put in context." Her helmet bobbed in a nod. "This little osik hole’s no Coruscant, but it’s no pirate’s pasteroid refueling station either. This place at least tries to clean up the filth on the streets. “I’ll be honest, it was just a rib to get you to stoke my ego a little, ‘Tain. We have no word for hero, Mando’a as close as it goes.”

[etaintur-mukan]

Jedi did not get lonely, per se. The Force was a certain kind of company, and Etain's training had taught her to revel in solitude as an opportunity for meditation. Truth was, she was quite content to be speaking with Miri on this outpost while she waited for word from Jusik.

"I see," she said. "I have heard your language spoken before, within the troops. They're very proud to know it." Etain stopped in front of the dock, nodding to the sign. "Well, here we are. I suppose you'll be on your way?"

[agent-wennen-blog]

"… Maybe you needed to be there."

She gently tucks a stray fly-away strand of hair behind her ear, still just as perplexed as before. “I’m not certain that would have helped.”

[null11]

this week!

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Reblog if you're a Star Wars indie RP account.

[etaintur-mukan]

Jocasta Nu is creating a giant master-list for every SW roleplayer. 

The list is here.

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Send me a drabble prompt

Goodbye: My muse watching yours die

Farewell: My muse or yours leaving the other (Please specify which)

Blood: My muse killing yours

Shiver: Our muses trying to stay warm

Hush: My muse trying to calm and quiet yours

War: Our muses arguing

Nocturnal: Our muses up late at night

Confession: My muse confesses something to yours

Reckless: My muse does something dangerous for yours

Warmth: Our muses doing something fluffy and cute together

Intimate: Our muses doing some hot and steamy together

Phobia: Our muses discussing what scares them

Tricky: Our muses doing something sneaky

Deceive: My muse lying to yours

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The sensation of being lifted made her head spin, and she braced her elbows against the console, her legs around his waist. A look of surprise made her eyes wide and her breath leave her. I'm nothing special, she wanted to say, but when she met his face, felt the grip on her thigh, Etain thought otherwise.

Etain shrugged out of the tunic, pulled her arms from the sleeves, and laced her arms around the back of his neck. She shivered, tried to pull herself close for warmth. The exposure made the surface of her skin prickle, while sending a heat to her core that made her legs tighten around Mereel.

Focused on the quick breaths pulsing in and out of her, the anticipation of what was to come nearly blinded her, and she watched Mereel closely, one of her hands bracing the back of his head.

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Her heart pounded and ached. Etain wanted this, but she was also one false move from running. If her mind wandered even for an instant--

Eyelids cracked, she saw his face, the ache turned to a sharp pain.

Etain pressed against him, her mind peeling into his, wanting to key into his desires to press on. She let her hand run down the length of his spine to the small of his back, finding the hem of his shirt, stopping short of going beneath it. It's Mereel. Her chest heaved against his hand and pushing aside doubt, she twisted her hand beneath the red fabric and laid her palm flat against the smooth skin.

[etaintur-mukan]

actual tag: not safe for feelings

not safe for cannon

not safe for life

idk

*signs off forever*

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If she had ever had control over herself, she'd lost it, and with no hope left to find out what she and Darman were missing...

Her hand cupped the side of Mereel's face, coaxing him to look back at her. "It's okay." The way he laughed, the depth of his voice catching in his throat. All of him was unknown to her despite the obvious likeness to Dar. This makes it worse.

Etain took Mereel's hand in hers, gently moving it--rigid, she noticed, because she had made it so--and placed his palm over her chest. "I want you to show me." Her voice sounded unlike her own--deeper, desperate. "Please?"

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Her hands reached forward and clasped the sides of his face, her lips following, seeking his.

...persuaded.

The thought of his hands searching her was more thrilling than she wanted to admit. Because, yes, she had heard the rumors. Etain never thought this conversation would have led to this, never thought in a thousand years that thoughts like that could have entered Mereel's mind about her.

"No, I'm--sorry."

[etaintur-mukan]

master zey

Zey is one of my favorite characters and I was thinking his face could be Christoph Waltz (UNHEALTHY OBSESSION) but then this happened.

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Her brow crinkled with the further questions, sensing the frustration within him. When Mereel's hands rested on her shoulders, she felt like she could have melted into him, begged him to just explain everything away. But it wasn't that simple.

"No," she said. "I know at least one place where he likes to be touched." It felt juvenile, simplistic, and everything about why she'd come to Mereel in the first place. She didn't bother suppressing the flush in her cheeks.

What was that last part?

"How I like to be..." It seemed like even the weight of his hands on her shoulders could cause her to disintegrate into the ground, turn to nothing. She had no idea. Her mouth twisted into something that wasn't a grimace or a pout, and she shook her head. "No. I don't know." The full weight of the question settled in her head and she stared at him, her eyes wide. "I haven't... tried."

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"He's usually very warm," she said, her voice a whisper again, because she was back to telling secrets.

"But I've never..." Mereel withdrew his hand and she watched the way his fingers touched her, lifted, and for a moment she wished she was somewhere else with someone else, but that was impossible. "I've never done that for him," she stated, returning to Mereel, Mereel's face, a frown creasing her face, realizing her inadequacy.