more of my Lloykita fanchildren since Tumblr seems to like them for some reason lol. Finally gave them a little redesign cuz they looked way to plain, not sure I'll stick with this tho
In case you were wondering about my sexuality (you probably weren't but I don't care) I'm boring: cishet.
HOWEVER! Not all of my characters are!
Torxen: Cishet.
Llewyn: Cishet
Arget: Asexual heteroromantic
Belior: Bisexual
Jade: Lesbian
Avien: Gay
Nehil: Asexual aromantic
I may end up needing some help writing some of them. Also don't worry, I want to make a trans character but I don't have any ideas yet. Maybe a shapeshifter, but that seems more gender fluid/other nonbinary to me.
Warnings/Summary: Llewyn and Zaerin do some work and have a talk
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“Do I have to do everything here?” Llewyn cursed a whole nother stack of empty vials. All of them happily squeezed together in tight boxes and clinking, only adding to her headache. It’d been a shitty morning and shitty midday and she longed for her bed and a huge glass of wine. Veldarin would surely part with a bottle of an older vintage to keep her happy.
Zaerin tried sorting the books, because their last customers had somehow made a mess of them, and looked a bit lost. Probably not knowing why people on the surface loved reading cheesy romance novels. Or what some of the words even meant.
He heard her cursing and quickly took a box out of her hands. “Ah, sorry.”
“Sorry is the word, yes?” A narrow wrinkle appeared between his eyes.
Llewyn nodded. “It is and some help would be appreciated.”
“Of course.” His height and nimble hands made the task easier. Llewyn just watched him stacking up the boxes in a storage, while massaging her neck. Her halfling-size often offered a disadvantage, even though Veldarin hat invested in many, many stools.
Zaerin had been a help and Llewyn thanked their adventurer friends for bringing him with them. Sure, he still had a lot to learn about language and culture, but seemed eager to do so. His red eyes also scared away some of the nastier customers, which gave her a good chuckle. They’d do without them and their thinly veiled distaste for Drow and other non-humans.
Zaerin put the last package of vials down. “Why does he buy so many things?”
“Profit? Don’t know. You should see his books. They’re chaos.”
“Books? like stories?”
“No, no, where he writes down his numbers. Earnings and such.” Half of the time, she didn’t want to know where his wealth came from and how he could so easily give it away. Pretty sure that his patron granted him Feywild treasures, which sold like mad.
“Hm! But he sells a lot of stuff.”
“Mainly due to him being easy to look at and charming.”
Zaerin seemed surprised at such an observation. “Do you consider Veldarin handsome?”
“I guess? Not my type, though.”
To be fair, Llewyn had never thought about Veldarin in such a way, but she’d seen how he used his appearance and charm. Men and women alike seemed lured in by it. Thinking about it, Zaerin could do the same with his clean cut features and wavy, white hair. Nobles in Ebrus just loved a bit of danger and someone, Llewyn shuddered just thinking about that word, exotic.
She watched Zaerin, debating if she should advise him to smile more and bat his eyes at young, noble ladies. “Come, it’s time for a break. We can close the shop for an hour or so.”
He nodded and smiled. “I hope we have, eh, these sweet pastries?”
“Croissants? Yeah, no worries. I bought some earlier today.”
DATE & TIME: 1/06, 3:28AM
LOCATION: The Temple, Yavin IV
TAG: @llewynalarcon
Jezha’s eyes were stinging, red, wet. It was unbefitting of a Jedi to have such a loose control on his emotions… wasn’t it? Wasn’t that what had been trained into him? Hadn’t the remaining Jedi decided to rebuild — to improve — the Order?
It was late— or was it early? Jezha didn’t care about the specifics. He needed to have time to mourn; to have time to let his soft heart scream and bleed as it wanted to as soon as it heard updates from the mission on Jedha. It had been days of comforting, of being a pillar, of repress, repress, repress.
His head snapped to the noise of someone else entering the temple. The wetness on his cheeks would be unmistakable, but Jezha found he didn’t care enough to wipe them with the rough fabric of his robes. “Finding solace here as well?” His voice was weak, partly through the sentence it wheezed and cracked.
