#That's his best bud and he'd kill for him

[bigbossmaker]

Yo I love the thought of Black mage and Fighter being unhealthily co-dependent on eachother too. Like- Fighter has a damn hand puppet of Black Mage, of course he's like a lost puppy without his best buddy! Black Mage can deal with it for a while with unfiltered violence and maybe a bit of a nap after a sammich, but MAN. Dude will NOT shut up about killing Fighter when he next sees him and fantasizing like a dumb crushing school girl with the feet kicks and everything about digging his knife into the other's throat and seeing him choke. Bet he's probably done that too, at some point! But unhealthy co-dependence had him just use some sorta burning hands esque spell to sear and cauterize the wound like the dumbass he is that needs a dumb meatshield like Fighter!

/post/190330484060 "the post-canon AU I’ve made in my head in which they fight some more and work out their differences and Fighter gets help and BM actually tries to be a better person [...] and ughhhhh I could go on for days" (slides you a $20) please go on for days

(pockets the $20) BOY HOWDY HERE WE GO

Firstly I need you to imagine me getting pulled back into 8BT like a guy getting yanked off a stage with a cane by this ask ok

Secondly...ah. My boys. Here we go

(Probably needless to say for how old 8BT is but spoilers for the whole thing below)

This is one of many post-canon AUs that I have. So 8BT is cyclical right? Just like FF1 it ends where it begins. And none of the (main) characters really grow or change over the course, and that's part of what drive the comedy home, the subversion not only of typical fantasy-RPG-genre characters, plots, and tropes, but the outright aversion of the usual narrative expectations. Characters usually have an arc, but the LWs only tease arcs (see: the couple times BM starts to imply that he' gonna turn good, Thief continuing to steal after he has no real reason too, etc.).

But what if they did have arcs tho.

The Temple of Fiend Revisited kinda fucks Fighter up. For the first time, he's without Black Mage for a long time, and everything's going to shit, and he even ends up having to face BM in battle and gets killed by him. He gets revived by Sarda but still. Dude's frequently breaking reality with how upset he is.

After the LWs run off to try to take credit for saving the world, and that ends up not happening thanks to WM making sure the DWs get all the credit, the LWs are kinda like. Well. We're done. See ya

Thief goes to prepare to rule Elfland. RM runs off to go start his last members of secret sects club or whatever. BM tries to get away from Fighter again but Fighter's just like wait what. No. Get back here

But still...something is off for Fighter. He's fine! They made it out alive and intact! He's with his best buddy again! He should be fine! But BM crossed a line with killing WM, even if it was by accident. And he started killing the other LWs too. And for some reason even though his friend is the nicest and sweetest guy in the whole world Fighter can't get that pain and those images out of his head. BM notices that Fighter seems a bit off, but he brushes it off. It's always something with that guy.

But Fighter starts noticing how callous and mean BM is being with everyone they run into. The rose-colored glasses start to lose their tint. And more and more Fighter's speaking up with "shouldn't we help that guy?" or "was nuking that entire orphanage really necessary?" And BM gets fed up with him and is like LOOK. THE OTHERS ARE GONE. WE DO THINGS MY WAY NOW AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT YOU CAN LEAVE.

And Fighter goes Fine. And leaves.

And it's the hardest and most painful decision of his life. But he wants to be a Hero, and he can't do that when BM's constantly undoing all his good deeds. Even if he's not really smart enough to connect all the dots, he at least knows now that he's better off alone.

But BM? BM is not better off alone. At first he's ecstatic, he never thought he'd be rid of Fighter and his shenanigans, but he is! He's finally alone! He can nuke all the orphanages he wants! He can be the evil, brooding, villainous wizard he was always meant to be without having to worry about his idiot meat shield giving away all their money or accepting some stupid 'save the world' quest or throwing cereal all over the kitchen floor or whatever!

He promptly goes out to his first solo fight and gets beaten to a pulp.

Yeah...he stuck with Fighter in the first place because he needed a meat shield. In the end, he's just a squishy wizard who misses most of his attacks. But that's okay! He doesn't need Fighter, he just has to change tactics! Be sneaky and deliberate and gain some experience with the weaker enemies in Corneria before he gets back into the swing of things!

Jump cut to BM sitting in the rain like a sad puppy missing Fighter for much more than his damage soaking. He misses sharing a tent with him, he misses watching him cut down enemies in battle, he misses his warmth and talking comics with him and listening to insane sword-themed rants and his cooking (Fighter was gonna give up the blade to be a short order cook, you can't tell me he doesn't cook for the team) and his impromptu hugs and how he seemed to care for him despite the cruelty of the rest of the world and why did he leave?!?!?! WHY?!?!?

So cue both of them getting help. And they both get help from the same person.

Fighter goes to the White Mages' Guild because they heal people who are hurt and he's hurt. And maybe he can pick up another magical companion! He ends up running into WM and they chat a bit, and WM's happy that Fighter got out of his abusive friendship, and she gives Fighter a bit of advice about moving on, but Fighter can't find another companion there and he ends up sulking away to try to throw himself into his heroism.

And BM ends up running into WM as well, and she braces herself for another round of dealing with him but he's just oddly quiet and talks about how he's totally not missing Fighter, and she's like 'good, and you better stay away from him because he deserves someone who's a lot nicer to him and who will support him in his efforts to improve the world and not a mean, stinky little jerk like you', and BM just suddenly gets something in his eye and runs away. And WM checks the Guild for mold and carbon monoxide leaks because there's no way that just happened.

But that's the kick in the pants that BM needs. Of course Fighter left him! He thought BM was nice until he realized he wasn't and then he left. So was their friendship just a result of Fighter's overbearing stupidity? Is BM just better off pretending like none of this ever happened?

Or is there a chance that he could get Fighter back...?

By being...k...kh...kuh-iii....kuhhhiiinnnd??? Ugh. He just threw up a little bit.

In the next couple weeks, BM just happens to bump into Fighter a couple times. And Fighter jut kinda tries to brush him off, and BM is like...trying to be nice in the only way he can. Which is, he's trying to imitate Fighter.

"Yeah uh...I was thinking...maybe it is, like, a good thing that...the world exists. Maybe I shouldn't have learned all those apocalypse spells. Maybe I should've put my time into, like...I dunno. Feeding the poor or whatever. Or like. Volunteering. Yeah. There's gotta be some use for a dark wizard down at the community garden or something."

And Fighter's like. Huh. What

And eventually...he figures he's gotta give BM a chance. That's what he does. He's a good person deep down, and if his former best buddy has really turned over a new leaf, then he wants to encourage that! So he keeps an eye on BM, and watches as BM slowly starts to build a repertoire of being nice.

He watches BM go to pop some kid's balloon, hesitate, and then turn away. He watches BM stand still for a really long time at a store till before pulling out some extra money and paying for the guy behind them. He watches BM open a spellbook on a hot day and spontaneously teach himself an ice spell to help keep them both cooled off. They start hanging out more and more and they slowly start to get along again.

And then somebody tries to take advantage of their kindness. And BM get PISSED. Chases them away, throws a couple fireballs at them, and spits some nasty words. Wheels around and yells at Fighter, what's the point of being nice if we're just gonna get pushed around by assholes like that all the time?!?!?!

And Fighter just smiles and thanks him for protecting him from that guy, since without people protecting each other like that, there would be no goodness left in the world.

BM is still evil deep down. He doesn't like being nice, doesn't like helping people, doesn't really like the world. And Fighter is still good deep down. But they understand each other a lot better, and they're nice to each other, and they take care of each other. Not many people are happy to see that lovable dork Fighter hanging out with stinky mean little BM again, but it's evident that something about them has changed, and they're happy together.

[shepcdr]

thinking again about how easily moulded shepard can be esp if you catch him pre-mass effect 1.. thinks about how good he is at surviving and Enduring more than anything else... the complete irrationality and extreme limits he will go to when it comes to those he has handed his loyalty over to (for better or for worse). Finding friendship and faith in the Normandy crew and to people like Anderson made his story and narrative a good one and kept him in line but this was all coincidence. it could've easily been a miserable and horrific story

[norrisainz33]

that should be me || ln4

summary: lando has been in love with his sister's best friend for as long as he can remember but doesn't gain the confidence to tell her until shes seen with a certain other driver

pairing: lando norris x sisters!bestfriend!reader x esteban ocon

warnings: angsty, lots and lots of lando pining

a/n: based off of that should be me by justin bieber fr

word count: 2,419

masterlist

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it starts with a photo.

just a stupid photo on instagram. one of those blurry candids that you were never quite sure how the gossip pages managed to get. it was a photo of you laughing with your head tilted back, eyes closed, hand on esteban's arm and he’s looking at you like you hung the stars.

lando doesn’t like the photo and he doesn’t even look at the caption. his stomach’s already in knots and his throat’s too tight for him to scroll any further.

you’ve always laughed like that. since you were kids, since the first time flo introduced him to her annoying little friend who beat him at mario kart and made better chicken wraps than anyone he’d ever met.

lando had always told himself it wasn’t like that. you were flo's best friend. his dear sisters best friend. off limits. but mostly… too good for someone like him.

and he’d thought he had time. time to figure it out. time to find the right moment. time to stop being scared of what would happen if he told you how he felt but maybe he waited too long.

“you okay, mate?”

lando blinks realizing he’s been staring at the same post on his phone for the last five minutes. max is across the hotel room, shoving snacks into the mini fridge like it personally offended him.

“yeah. fine.” he locks his phone and tosses it on the bed.

max eyes him suspiciously. “you’re sulking bud.”

“i’m not sulking.”

“you’ve got the same face you had when we kept losing in tarkov last night. you are sulking.”

lando huffs, “whatever.”

he doesn't want to talk about it. especially not with max who most definitely will give him massive shit for it. you and flo were like sisters to max - and lando knew he'd have something to say about it. he couldn't tell him, not when the only thing circling his brain was: y/n's dating esteban ocon and i think it might actually kill me.

he sees you later that week at a paddock event. you’re positively glowing and he hates that it makes his heart ache.

you light up when you spot him. “lando!”

it’s still his name on your lips. still your arms wrapping around him. still your familiar scent and the soft brush of your laugh against his neck.

for a second, he lets himself believe things haven’t changed. until he sees esteban who is not far behind you, talking to your friends like he belongs there. like lando used to.

you pull away, smiling. “i haven’t seen you in forever!”

he shrugs, forcing a grin. “been busy.”

you lean into him like you used to, teasing. “too busy to text me back?”

lando’s throat tightens. he hasn’t meant to drift. it just hurt too much.

“you seemed busy,” he says, eyes flicking to esteban. the words come out sharper than he means.

your smile falters, “yeah, I guess.”

he remembers the first time he thought maybe just maybe you felt something too. it was a late summer night. bonfire at a lake house he, you, flo and max had rented with a few friends. everyone had gone inside except you and him and you were wrapped in one of his hoodies, nursing a half-empty drink, feet tucked under you on a lawn chair.

“do you ever think about what you want your life to look like?” you’d asked suddenly, eyes on the stars and head in the clouds.

lando was looking at you instead, “yeah, sometimes.”

you turned to him, your gaze soft and curious. “what do you see?”

he opened his mouth and closed it. swallowed the truth. i see you and me and everything in between.

but he’d just smiled and said, “fast cars. good friends and a lot of trophies.”

you’d nudged his foot with yours, “that’s the safe answer.”

and he’d thought maybe you knew. maybe you were waiting for him to say it but he didn’t.

lando sees you again two days later. not at a race but at some fancy charity dinner he barely remembered agreeing to but mclaren pr had insisted he attend. you’re across the room in a black dress that clung to your figure like it was made just for you and it made his heart stutter and of course, you were laughing at something esteban said.

from where lando stands, it’s perfect. too perfect. except… you laugh but it doesn’t reach your eyes. not the way it used to when it was just him and you and a stupid inside joke about max’s haircut or one of flo's silly antics. and when esteban leans in to whisper something, you smile, but you also look away like you’re somewhere else entirely.

lando stares at his drink, jaw tight. maybe it doesn’t mean anything but maybe it does.

later that night, back at the hotel, max glances over at lando from the other bed. “you’ve been weird.”

lando blinks, “what?”

“you’re being weird especially around y/n.”

lando shifted in his seat, “i’m not.”

max raises an eyebrow at his friend. “you barely talked to her at the dinner annd when esteban showed up, you looked like you wanted to throw him into a wall.”

“dunno what you’re talking about.”

max sighs, tossing a chip in his mouth. “whatever, man. just don’t be a dick about it, yeah? she’s happy.” lando doesn’t respond because maybe that’s the problem. he’s not so sure you are.

lando can’t stop thinking about the way esteban's hand fit on the small of your back.

that should be me. that should be him making you laugh like that. listening to you talk about your day. walking you to your car, kissing you goodnight. making a grand entrance in the paddock with you on his arm.

he’s seen every version of you, messy hair, post-crying eyes, birthday party smiles, sleepy morning grins and he loved all of them. still very much does. but you don’t know that because he never told you. and now esteban's stepping into a role lando always thought would be his if he ever got brave enough to claim it.

the tipping point is a stupid video that someone tagged him in on instagram. you and esteban again. at some little café, laughing over coffee, his fingers brushing yours. you don’t even notice the camera.

lando watches it once. twice. and on the third time, he presses pause and stares at your face and before he can stop himself he dials your number.

you answer on the second ring. “hi lando!”

god, he’s missed your voice. missed you. “hey,” he says quietly. “can we talk?”

you pause, clearly picking up on his tone. “yeah, of course lan. is everything okay with you?”

“no,” he says, honest this time. “not really.”

you meet him that night at the same spot as always, the quiet overlook just outside the city where you used to sneak off to watch the stars. he’s already there when you pull up, leaning against his mcalren, hands stuffed in his pockets.

you walk over slowly, a little guarded, a little confused. “lando?"

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

you blink, “tell you what lan?”

“that you were seeing him.”

you shift your weight, taken aback by his words. “i didn’t think I had to? it wasn’t serious at first and then.... i don’t know. i figured you knew.”

he laughs but there’s no humor in it. “everyone knew but me huh?”

you look at him and your expression softens. “why does it matter?”

he looks up from his shoes and meets your gaze. “because I wanted it to be me.”

the words hang between you, heavy in the night air.

you blink, almost stunned into silence. “what?”

lando takes a step closer, heart pounding almost out of his chest. “i’ve loved you for a long time, y/n/n and i was stupid. i thought I had more time. thought I could wait for the right moment but I kept waiting and waiting and now i’m watching someone else live the life I used to picture with you.”

you don’t speak, too stunned by his confession that you aren't even sure what to say.

“and maybe it’s too late,” he says quietly. “maybe he’s already the guy but I couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t hurt. i had to tell you.”

silence.

“you’re an idiot,” you whisper.

“yeah, i know.” lando sighed.

you take a shaky step toward him. “i waited too, you know. for you to say something, anything.”

his heart nearly stops. “you did?”

you nod, “but then you got distant. i thought maybe I made it all up in my head. so when esteban asked me out, I figured maybe it was time to stop waiting.”

he closes the gap between you, barely daring to breathe. “i’m sorry.”

you look up at him. "what are you going to do about it?"

he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “i'm going to stop being an idiot.”

and when he leans in, you meet him halfway. your lips meet his like a question — soft, searching, full of all the words neither of you ever said.

lando lets out a shaky breath, forehead resting against yours. “i’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

you don’t smile, not quite. “same.”

you take several steps back, arms wrapping around yourself. “but this doesn’t fix everything.”

lando’s chest tightens. “i know.”

“i’m still with esteban,” you say, eyes darting away. “and he’s… he’s good to me.”

he nods slowly, the words hurt, but he understood. “i’m not asking you to drop everything. i just needed you to know what you mean to me.”

“i don’t want to hurt him.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“and i don’t want to hurt you, either.”

lando takes a small step toward you. “then don’t lie to yourself.”

you stare at him for a moment and then you whisper, “i need time.”

his nod is immediate. “take it! take all the time you need.”

a faint smile touches your lips. “you sure about that?”

“i've waited this long,” he says. “what’s a little longer?”

you walk back to your car in silence and when you glance over your shoulder before getting in, he’s still standing there under the stars waiting. not for an answer - just for you.

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a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs are always appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

toji has an oral fixation.

oh, how he loves having his mouth on you. it's one of his favourite pasttimes; no matter whether it's making out and sucking on your tongue, or trailing his scarred lips over the side of your neck, pressing warm kisses against your jaw and pulse point like it's the only thing he knows. he loves having his mouth on your nipples, too. wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud and watch you arch into him while he plays with the other. he loves littering your chest with hickeys and he loves watching them bloom. his marks on you, from his mouth – it drives him wild. and last but not least – he loves giving you head. slobbering all over you, covering you in his saliva as he tries to devour you whole. feeling you cum on his tongue? absolutely nothing can compare to the sensation of that. nothing.

he loves the way you taste, he loves the way you sound, he loves the way you writhe under his burning touch. you're sweeter than anything else he's ever had and he simply can't get enough of you. he'll have you in every way he can, in every way you'll let him.

toji also loves sucking on your fingers.

of course, he'd be a little (read: very) ashamed to admit that out loud, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like it. there's just something so freeing in the way you let him melt into you, the way you don't tease him for wanting to let go. he wants to feel good, too. he wants to give up the power and just feel.

it is new to him though; you were always the one with his fingers in your mouth, so having the roles reversed, toji does feel a little small. in the best way possible.

having you on top of him, sitting perfectly on his stomach with your one hand firmly on his chest and the other caressing his face, toji can't help but feel himself twitch in his sweats. his mouth salivates at the sight of your cunning little smile and the twinkle in your eyes as you purr about how good he looks under you. he doesn't argue.

the tips of his ears burn and his adam's apple bobs, feeling your fingers tracing over the scar on his lips. his hands hold onto your waist like you're about to take flight, his strong grasp bruising your soft skin, making you let out a quiet moan. toji's hips buck upward and he watches your smile widen.

"open up, baby..."

your voice might also just kill him. it's sultry and still brimming with love, you're gentle and just a tad bit teasing – it's the perfect combination. toji's lips part without an objection, his mossy green eyes glued to yours as they do the same.

you push two fingers in and hum at the overwhelming warmth that envelops them immediately. toji's chest rumbles with a groan of his own at the way you run them over the sharp edges of his canines. leaving yourself a little closer to them, you place a kiss to his cheek while holding your fingers to his tongue, pressing it down as you slide them further into his mouth. toji holds back a gag and lets his eyes fall shut; your scent fills his nostrils and the way you're now nuzzling your face into his is not making any of this any less erotic.

finally toji's lips close properly around your fingers and he feels you smile against his skin. and then he feels your hips grinding ever-so-slightly on his stomach and now he really feels like he's losing his mind. you're all over him, but what gets him the most is that none of this is the usual 'sex stuff'. he's always been open to experimenting, he's willing to try just about anything you'd ever want to with a few eyelash flutters and a few pretty 'please's', but this? this is something else.

for starters, you're both still fully clothed. clad in your most basic pyjama, you're making him more turned on than he's ever been. and he's just so, so used to be the one in control, to be the one on the top – so submitting to you feels foreign, but so fucking good. you're making him discover things about himself that he never could've even dreamt about. him sucking on your fingers while you're humping his abs? oh, you'll kill him one day for sure.

but he's not complaining.

his tongue swivels around your two fingers as he begins to push and pull your hips to help you grind against him. you lick the side of his face, covering him in your saliva before pulling back just a little to look at him. below you, with your fingers in your mouth – he looks fucking extraordinary. you feel over the moon about the fact that he feels comfortable enough with you to let you have your way with him. you're utterly thankful for the glorious sight and you will most certainly reward him for it as well.

there's a soft squelch when toji hollows his cheeks and sucks on your digits. a sickeningly sweet coo spills from your lips and his eyes crack open; your gazes meet and you swear his whole body twitches under you. his hold on you gets tighter, his fingers sinking in deeper and you can't help but wonder how big of a mess he might be making in his sweats.

spit makes his lips glisten under the light emitting from the tv; shadows of the long forgotten movie dance on his skin, the whispers getting muffled by the sounds that he keeps making. he doesn't feel as embarrassed anymore, slowly succumbing to the hazy feeling in his head. he's addicted, he wants more and more and more.

and as if on cue, you force your fingers deeper down his throat once more, eyes set on the way his own roll right back into his head. his head dips forward, sinking into the pillow behind him and giving you the most beautiful view of his blooming neck. you're matching – he marks you up and you do the same. it's love.

pulling your fingers with a 'pop', a whine slips from toji but before he can really complain about it, you press your mouth to his. your lips smack together as you cradle his face with your spit-covered hand, tugging him closer and closer. his big arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you flush to him, moaning into your mouth when you decide to suck on his tongue in turn.

he can taste your desire, the need to make him feel good and to take care of him as you push yourself further into him. toji feels like he's about to explode. he wants to kiss, he wants to feel your fingers again, he wants to make you cum, he wants to make love to you.

hovering just above his face, you bring your hand back to his mouth and grant him his wish. he doesn't need to say it out loud, you know exactly what he wants and what he needs. slipping your index and your middle finger between his lips, you both groan at the feeling.

you give him a smile and butterflies bloom in his belly. you give him a peck while still having your fingers in your mouth and cum seeps through his sweats.

toji fushiguro is a weak, weak man and you have him wrapped around your pretty little fingers.

literally.

[gregrulzok]

I got kinda poet-ish about it in my last post but I need to be more direct:

Genuinely what the FUCK is wrong with Daniel Molloy.

Like okay, yes, 100+ year old broody vampires with incredibly tragic backstories will be hot and a little bit insane. That's literally a given.

Daniel Molloy is a 30-somethings man with a budding alcohol problem and verging on a midlife crisis, and his response to a world-shattering revelation that vampires are real is to go SO fucking off the rails that his 500 year old millionaire stalker that blends rats for fun, reads 70 books a day at mach speed, and once SEWED A YOUNG GIRL'S HEAD TO AN OLDER WOMAN'S BODY AFTER MURDERING THEM has to be like "Daniel you're being weird again".

Like this man.

- Has no backstory as far as I know? Certainly no tragic tale I've ever heard. He'd literally some dude off the street.

- Is one of the only characters to ever be with Armand and NOT fetishize the fact that he looks 17 (hats off)

- BUT he DOES fetishize him being a literal fucking corpse, direct quote "I like kissing. And snuggling with dead things, yes, hold me." so maybe we should place him on some kind of list anyway

- Is literally ADDICTED to vampire blood, and the reason for it is that it gives him fucked up visions of suffering and torment and he's into that

- (I'm cutting him a lot of slack for also being not dissimilarly addicted to having his blood drunk, because this is Tunglr and I think we can all relate to that, but let the record state for real world purposes that's still fucking weird)

- Yells at and berates his deranged vampire stalker WELL before the time they become Lovers, in the MIDDLE of said deranged vampire stalker having some kind of angry meltdown. ("I WANT YOU TO DIAL PARIS, I WANT TO SEE IF YOU CAN REALLY TALK TO PARIS" [...] "WHAT ARE YOU, AN IMMORTAL IDIOT?" This is during a time period where, for all he knows, the deranged vampire stalker is fully comfortable with and even vaguely planning on killing him.

- Hears OVER AND OVER AGAIN how becoming a vampire is nothing but a terrible irreversible eternal curse, sees how every vampire he meets (all... Two of them, to be fair), longs for humanity, and STILL thinks "Nah. I'm built DIFFERENT."

- Like. Listen. He's aware of the pain and suffering he'd bring to others. He fully knows about it because he drinks Armand's blood. And he WANTS TO DO THAT, like that would NOT be an issue for him.

- At best that's a sacrifice he's willing to make so he gets to cuddle his dead boyfriend for all eternity. At worst, and more probably, that's a fun perk for him.

Like Daniel what is your fucking PROBLEM, man.

[freneziwlp]

I hate when you're away

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel fucks the soreness away.

Warnings: +18 MDNI, smut smut smut ahead, unprotrected p-in-v, fingering, mentions of blowjob, cum eating, begging, horny asf Joel, eating out, daddy kink.

A/n: it's my first weekend with some time off, and what else should I be doing instead of trying my first attempt of writing smut hm hm?! Hehehe enjoy :) also, GIF ain't mine.

" Joel, baby! I'm so sore. " You whine softly as your fingers tenderly caress his tousled morning locks while he spreads warm, affectionate kisses all the way down your abdomen, tracing a path to his intended destination.

" Shhh, just relax now princess, let daddy stretch ya needy lil hole just a bit for his cock, will ya? " His thick accent sending shivers down your spine, leading you into closing your eyes, missing the way Joel spits in his fingers before smearing the sticky liquid all over your still puffy clit from last night's event, rubbing tight circles on the bud and dragging moisture up and down your pussy before shoving two dampened fingers inside you, curling his digits against your spongy walls, feeling you squeezing his fingers inside, your head falling back onto the mattress as you moans his name and bucks your hips against his palm.

Joel had spent a few weeks out due to one of his often travels around the state, doing god knows what with his most faithful partner, Tess. You used to be jealous of their proximity once you realized you had more than a crush on him, annoyed at how close she could casually be around him without making things up as an excuse to get his attention. Thankfully, the jealousy quickly went down the toilet once you found out she probably liked women more than himself did when she boldly hit on you while she was drunk, which you might even had enjoyed if you weren't so focused on seducing her partner.

You were reading a book on the living room's couch when you heard the jingle of keys unlocking you and Joel's shared apartment's door, your back sinking in an somehow uncomfortable position in the old cushions. You dropped your book aside, getting up to greet your man as he had spent long enough away from you, making you all needy for his presence and touch. To your dismay, instead of embracing you with his strong arms and whispering sweet nothings against your hair in attempt to show you how bad he had missed you, Joel didn't even look at you on his way in, dropping his seemingly weighty backpack on the floor, loud thud filling the air, before hurriedly barging in to the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

You froze next to where he had just gotten in, not knowing how to react to his awfully unsual demeanor. As a matter of fact, you hadn't even had time to look in his eyes, only taking a hint of his beyond smudged clothes as he stormed away from you. Concern fill your chest as you begin to try to piece the puzzle on what had happened for him to act so distressed. Had the work he went to get done gone wrong? Was he pissed at someone who deared to go against him? You even wondered if Tess had gotten fucking killed by some motherfucking clicker. An assumption that soon vanished once you hear her voice on the other side of your door, talking to someone random on the hall.

Maybe he was just sick of you, afterward. Maybe he had gotten back to his strict and fuzzy way of treating you just like he was when you first got in his and his friend's way.

Unbestknown to you, the reason Joel had ignored your presence was due a fucked up wet dream he had had in the middle of the night when camping in the woods a few days earlier, leading him into waking up with a hard and leaking cock against the restrain of his pants, furious at how he wouldn't be able to take care of it when Tess was snoring right next to him and you were miles away. He tried to ease himself the best he could, struggling whenever he'd revivid the dream where he had you all on fours as he pounded you from behind, squirting on his cock as he demanded for you to cum, referring to him as daddy.

Well fuck, the way he missed your cunt the following travelling days should be forbidden.

The second Joel left his shower he went out looking for you, not bothering to wrap himself up in a towel much less get his body dried. You were sitting down, still in the living room, blankly staring at a random wall when he found you, a hint of regret hitting him when he realized that it was probably his fault you were so quiet but the incessant throb of his cock vanished the concern away. He approached you with loud steps, your eyes widening as you take in his naked form, droplets of water tracing paths behind him and all over his shaped body onto the floor below his feet, your eyes following his whole, parking at his pelvis where his cock was standing hard against his wet stomach, tip glistening with precum. Your mouth went dry as waves of shocks found their way up to the pitch of your stomach landing onto your core, it was safe to say the image of him only took mere seconds to affect you. Joel had his glare stuck on your face, his features harsh and eyebrows furrowed, almost as if he was in pain.

Joel knew that if he looked at you the moment he walked home, all sweet and loving with your big sparkly eyes staring at him, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself as he was in a dreadful need of your mouth on him, but he couldn't give in before taking a long shower, there was no way you would even want to fuck with him smelling like shit. So instead, he chose to ignore you, which wasn't the smartest choice considering you probably would have nasty second thoughts on it, but he would make things up with you the sooner he was all clean and smeeling nice. And boy, did he do.

" Hi there, doll. Have you missed me?" you nodded, speechless. " Well then why don't ya kneel for daddy and show me how much ya missed him, huh? "

The following events were all a blur, your body probably working on auto pilot as it only took seconds before Joel had himself shoved deep down your throat, hands tugging tightly around your hair as he bobbed your head against him the harder he could, desperate to fill your throat with his thick ropes of cum in attempt to get rid of the burning feeling of his need. Which obviously, wasn't enough. After making you give him head he fucked you senseless on the floor, making sure to vividly manevour you in all of the positions he had dreamt of while traveling. You and Joel spent the following hours drowning yourselves in each other's desires until there was no hint of energy left for you to keep going.

That was until he woke you up the morning after, in your shared bed, spreading warm kisses all over your face and neck, engulfing himself into the warmth of your body and silently thanking the heavens for letting him return home safe to your embrace. No matter how much of you he had taken the previous night, his cock didn't seem to take any near satisfaction from it.

He keeps fingering you until the previous soreness you'd been feeling turned into a desperate buck of your hips, wishing for him not to stop, your cunt twitching and leaking as you feel yout orgasm approaching.

" Are you ready for me, doll? " Joel towers over your laying trembling body, bending his torso so he could grab your tits, assaulting your erect buds with harsh pinches. You moans, nodding quickly " Yeah? Then beg for it, wanna hear ya say it "

He knew you hated when he made you beg, annoyed at how easily he could work his way onto your brain and manipulate you into becoming nothing but a slutty whore for him. He knew you hated that you were so easy to succumb to him, not willing to stop once you had it started.

" Oh don't ya try to stop yourself from bein' my bitch now, doll. Your pussy's dying for my cock to get it all wretched " You whimper, your core burning for him.

" Please Joel, p-please... please fuck me! Come on, ugh, I need you inside me already "

Your pleads seem to ignite fire on him as he lowers his face next to yours and smirk hungrily, like a predator scolding his prey. Joel presses his lips against yours in a harsh motion, swallowing your moans. He keeps on clutching on your tits, his free hand lowers to grab his member, holding it against your now drenched cunt. He interrupts the kiss and gets back to kneeling in front of you on the bed, he positions his throbbing cock onto your entrance, bumping on it, eliciting a loud moan from you.

" Mhmm, such a naughty lil bitch for me, all whinin' and beggin', gonna fill you up so good hun' " All of his teasing was growing impatience in you, he hell knows how to drive you insane and would never skip the opportunity of seeing you squirming underneath him " Joel, will you shut the fuck up and fuck me already? For fuck sakes! "

" So much swearing for sucha pretty lil mouth, I think someone's growing mad at me now, huh " He mocked, causing you to growl in annoyance, but before you could complain any further Joel fully knocked himself inside you with no previous warning, thrusting his hips rapidly, both of his hands wrapped around your hips, pushing you desperately against him as his face contorted in pleasure. Your arms pull him against you making his torso bend over again, face falling onto the crook of your neck as you stick your nails into the flesh of his back, scratching and pulling him closer in a way that probably would draw blood from it, which only seemed to get Joel even more turned on as his cock would fuck you harder at each second.

" Yes, yes, yes, FUCK, fuck don't stop, don't stop baby! " Joel smirks, admiring your perky tits bouncing next to his face.

" Such a good girl begging for me. Fuck, ya pussy feels so tight, squeeze daddy's cock harder baby, c'mon " Joel mutters against your neck, his warm lips popping loud pecks and bites on it, you loved the way his beard would scrape your skin while he was fucking you.

" Mhmmm yes, want you cumming inside me daddy, I know you can't get enough of m-me, oh fuck! "

" Fuck, ya know me so damn well, don't ya? Daddy's gonna cum so hard, doll. Where do ya want me huh? " Joel pounds your pussy harder at each sentence, you know he's close from cumming, his hips muscles burning and twitching from how hard he's thrusting his way inside you, loud wet noises filling the air and sweat dripping down his naked back as you keep on scratching it raw.

" I-inside me daddy, mhmm ughh fuck please please fuck... gonna cum, fuck... I'm c-cumming Joel "

Joel tried his best to delay his release, to make the addicting feeling of your pussy swallowing him last the longer it could, but how could he ever control himself when his girl was begging so beautifully for him? How could he resist the thought of cumming so hard inside you that it would make you see stars and scream his name? Joel is addicted to you in ways he had never been with any other woman and his body would always betray him on it. He wouldn't miss the opportunity of bragging about making you cum when himself had jerked off so many times to the thought of it while he was still a mere friend of yours.

Joel growls, emptying himself inside you, cock twitching abruptly as white ropes of cum paint the tight walls of your cunt, your eyes rolling to the back of your head once you reach your own orgasm, jaw hanging open before eliciting a loud whine.

When you're both finished, Joel's body falls upon yours, panting and sweating, his cock softening within your warmth. He kisses your sternum, resting his eyes and listening to your heartbeat.

He pulls his cock out of your hole and you stops breathing for a moment when you feel his hot seed dripping down your pussy, you didn't know if it was the aftershocks of your climax but you could feel something gathering on your lower belly again. You shove one of your hands in between you and Joel's body, your fingers collecting his dripping cum and smearing it upon your swollen clit, making a mess all over it, dragging a low whimper from your throat, which caught your boyfriend's attention.

" Watcha doin' down there, doll? Seems like I'm not the only one who can't get satisfied, huh? "

" Mhmm, seems like it, yes "

" Here, lemme do the work for my woman "

Joel lowers his body all the way between your legs, nipping on your belly until he finds the spot you needed him so badly. You were still recovering from your previous orgasm but there was something about you being covered in his cum that wouldn't let your nerves cool down, you needed him just one more time.

He holds one of your legs and rest it above his shoulder, licking the insides of your thigh before stopping by your pussy, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent, his cock twitching for what it feels like the millionth time since he had gotten back, which almost seemed impossible but honestly, he couldn't care less about possibilities. Joel's jaw drops against your puffy core, his lips caressing your clit in a silent tease, he taste his own juices on you in a delicious mix of musky and sweet.

Lapping up your gathering moist, Joel licks and sucks on your pussy, pressing his tongue right where he knows you would die on the inside, you feel the coil building up again, tousling your fingers in his hair you pull him impossibility closer, bucking your hips on his skillful mouth, he alternates between shoving his tongue inside you and assaulting your clit with circling pressured motions. You feel as if you might explode at any time, wondering when he had learned to give head so fucking well, hints of jealousy hitting you when for a mere 2 seconds you imagine him making other women feel this way, getting interrupted by your orgasm ripping through your body.

If whenever Joel would return from a long trip he would make things up with you by giving you the pleasure of seeing him panting, face covered in your cum and a smirk on his lips after fucking you senseless for a whole night, then maybe it wouldn't be all bad having him away for a lil bit.

[johnnycadesmuse]

⋆ ｡˚ ༘ not a lot, just forever

— dating johnny cade hc's

warnings: language, smoking, sfw + nsfw

sfw:

-you and johnny most likely met through friends. when he first saw you, he immediately thought that you were the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

-it took him a little while to ask you out on a date, and by a little while i mean months.

-you two started off as really close friends. you two were each others number one. you would always tell one another anything and everything, tmi didn't exist in your friendship either.

-you were johnny's first ever girlfriend/relationship. sure he had had crushes prior, but they never went anywhere and didn't mean a lot to him— until he met you. you were more than a crush, and he knew that instantly.

-after you two began dating, he was more bold around you. before, he was a listener and you were a yapper, but then it became the other way around.

-people see johnny as a helpless shy guy, but he isn't afraid to fight for his girl. if a guy is harassing you or flirting with you, he will throw hands. (he killed someone guys, get real)

-after a rumble, he goes over to yours to get patched up. he prefers the peace and quiet of your bedroom at night, just the two of you alone, not surrounded by a bunch of loud teenagers. he likes watching your dimly lit face as you clean the blood off of his knuckles, your beauty basically blocking out any pain he's feeling.

-this man is the best cuddler in the world. he loves cuddling and he especially loves cuddling you. he'd be the big spoon majority of the time, not because he would feel less manly as a little spoon (he doesn't gaf) but because he loves holding you close and protecting you. he also thinks you're like his personal heater as he's always cold and you are always warm. on the off chance that he is the little spoon, he tucks his face into your chest as you play with his hair gently.

-the two of you are always sharing a cigarette— both to save money and because it became a little ritual for you two. he also keeps the buds in a jar as they have your lipstick stains on them and they remind him of you.

-despite being really close friends for a long time, he never really cried in front of you. sure, he got emotional and was very open and vulnerable, but he never cried. that was until you two started dating and he instantly felt a wall break down, allowing him to cry in front of you without feeling shame. you never blamed/shamed him for it either, you always held and consoled him without a second thought.

-he tries to take you out on a date at least once a week, even if he doesn't have any money to take you out to eat or something, he'll find some sort of activity that doesn't involve payment.

-if he sees something at the store that reminds him of you, he'll quickly stuff it in his pocket to give to you later or to add to his trinket collection.

-his love language is physical touch + words of affirmation. the only touch he's ever felt is pain, aside from the side hugs the gang occasionally give him, but that's the extent of positive physical touch. whether you two are out and about or home alone, he always makes sure he's touching you in some way, whether it be holding your hand or holding you close.

-he's always kissing you whenever he gets the chance. he'll give you a peck on the cheek or forehead when you are out on the town, maybe even one on the lips if he's in a good mood/feeling confident. when you two are alone, his peppering kisses all over your face and neck, making you giggle.

-speaking of giggles, he adores your laugh. he's always cracking jokes or trying to be funny to make you laugh just so he can listen to it. your laugh is like music to his ears— sometimes when he's having a bad day, just the thought of your voice/laugh instantly lifts his spirits.

nsfw:

-this man is a giver. in literally every way. he will always be down to give you head, finger you, or pleasure you in any way.

-this man is literally a god with his tongue. you aren't sure where he learned it from (dallas probs) but you aren't complaining. literally not even a minute into him giving you head, you're already clenching the sheets. when he hits you with the tongue and fingers combo, you're done. it's over.

-sex is always so intimate between you two, whether it's slow and sensual or rough and fast, you two always feel so close emotionally.

-johnny actually enjoys rough sex and prefers it over soft and slow, but if you ask for something lighter he of course won't say no. he just prefers pounding into you over lightly thrusting, but again, he won't complain if you ask for something less intense.

-he's willing to experiment with anything. the only thing he refuses to do is anything that has to do with anal.

-his main kinks are praise, dacryphilia, and messy sex (spit, sweat, etc.)

-his favourite thing is late night sex. he loves putting your legs over his shoulders or around his waist so he can pound deeply into you as he watches you sob, overwhelmed from pleasure as he whispers praises into your ear.

-his favourite positions are missionary, lotus, and cowgirl. sometimes he enjoys doggy, but only if you're down to do it. he also loves the bear hug as it makes him feel close with you intimacy wise, but he also finds he can fuck you deeper than any other position.

-johnnys a soft dom, despite many people's belief that he's a sub. I believe that he's tried to be a sub before but he just wasn't into it. he doesn't mind being on the bottom (as said before, cowgirl + bearhug are some of his fav positions)

-he is literally obsessed with your tits. anytime he can, he touches them, squeezes them, massages them, and sucks on them. he likes your ass as well, massaging it when your riding him, but he prefers your breasts.

-when you two first had sex, it was somewhat awkward as he was worried that he'd hurt you. he knew what to do somewhat as Dally would tell him many stories (against his will) but he still wanted to be careful with you. despite him starting off awkward, overtime as you two began to explore one another's bodies and know and understand them better, sex became a more regular and amazing experience.

[arabellasfvv]

Kyle dealing with your anger cause I'm currently fuming over dinner. MDNI 18+

Kyle perks up the seconds he hears you curse. There wasn't a bang or an 'ouch', so you're mad. Which would be fine any other time. But a glance on the calender tells him it's that time of the month. So a simple curse will turn into death threats torward everyone and everything, and a minimum of two things broken.

Not fun.

But he's been learning to deal with it. Slowly getting up from the couch, mentally preparing himself for an outburst.

The closer he gets to the kitchen, the better it smells. Clearly you had something good cooking. He peaks around the doorframe to check if you were curled up in a ball and sobbing.

That, frankly, would've been better than your tense figure, hands curled into tight fists. Your heavy breathing makes his own heavier, as if he's trying to blend in, not wanting to set you off.

"Sweetheart," his voice is soft as ever as he steps beside you. "What happend?" A dangerous question that could definitely blow up in his face.

"Nothing fucking happend!"

Right. He doesn't believe that. And you know that.

"Uh huh. Somethin' wrong with the food?" He pressed, while his hand snuck up your arm. Not too soft, he wanted you to feel him, a firm, grounding touch.

Kyle didn't flinch when your fist came down on the counter, one, two, three times. Just gripped you a little tighter. "Nothing's working! The sauce was weird, the potatoes ain't cooking, the fish smells fishy-"

"I think that's how fish is supposed to smell." Oh boy, if looks could kill he'd be a dead man. The kiss he presses against your head is supposed to be soothing.

He takes a fork to stab into a potatoe, before dipping it into your 'weird sauce'. Tastes fine, like everytime. "They're hard boiling potatoes, luv. Supposed to feel like that. And your sauce taste like usual, yer taste buds might be a little out of whack."

He wraps his buff arm around your shoulder, his hand slipping up to your jaw to tilt your face to him. "You bought the wrong potatoes, Kyle."

"Aww, did I? List just said potatoes." He's quick to retreat when you squint up at him, brows furrowing like he's stupid. "Okay, okay, that's on me. I shoulda known better. So why don't ya tell me which ones ya want for next time, hm?"

You want to smack him for being so rational, so calm, while your heart is about to beat out of your chest. "All purpose, or starchy." You grumble. He nods, like 'of course, those are the right options'. "Noted. You go sit down, sweetheart. Pick out a movie, order some pizza.."

He doesn't give you the chance to interrupt, the moment those pretty lips part he knows what you're going to say. "Don't worry, this won't go to waste. I'll put it aside, and we'll make something out of it tomorrow. No point in trying when you're all grumpy."

You huff. How dare he be right? You stomp away to do as told.

He joins you on the couch a little later, smiling when he saw your choice of movie. No suprise there.

He was far more focused on you than on his own appetite. So he quickly shoved down his pizza to focus on you. Guiding your feet into his sliding his deft fingers between your toes, massaging each one. Watching your little reactions, the ones you were trying to hide, so you could keep acting mad.

He's itching to you advice on how to deal with this. He knows better, though. Had learned the anger during this time is different than usual, so he doesn't. No, his warm hands just keep gliding slowly along your feet, tracing along the curves of your arch, showing exactly how familiar he is with them.

His thumbs were pressing gently into the soles, doing his best to knead away any and all tension, when you speak up again. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. As long as ya don't kill anyone, we'll always be alright, got it?" "So, killing is your limit? Ironic." "It's the laws limit."

You smile back at him, you do feel guilty about getting so worked up. Which makes it tempting to get angry again, just to ignore that feeling. But he's quicker, reads the emotions off you like it's written on a billboard.

Hands slide up your legs, before kyle is pulling you closer to him. You insult him under your breath for his strenght. He's too busy to notice. Busy pulling you into his lap, shifting you until your legs are straddling him. His hands are all over you in an instance. Feeling up every little curve, before one settles with slipping under your shirt, and drawing little patterns into your lower back.

The other coming up to cup your cheek. You lean into it like a dog starved for affection. "You're an emotional thing, I'm aware of that. Wouldn't have gotten involved if it bothered me," he assures you in a gentle whisper against your lips.

You barely manage to whisper the sacred words of 'I love you' before he has your lips against his own. Slow, and careful, but he tilts his head to fit you better, to kiss you deeper. He wants to steal your breath, watch you pull away and pant just to drag you back in until everything else's fades away. Until that flame of anger simmers down and allows your mind to be a little quieter. If just for a moment.

That's it, I'm too lazy for more.

[idliketobeatree]

having a lot of messy catwin thoughts, may i?

the tale of edwin and the cat king is cautionary, but it's a hopeful one and i'll die on this hill. i would narrow it down to a simple "play with your food for too long and it'll bite you",

and also, "there's a difference between freedom of body and emancipation of soul, but both come from a place of confinement."

it works in both ways. like all spells, flexibility comes with a price to pay. the cat king discovers first-hand that too much pleasure can kill you; by letting himself enjoy edwin's presence, he grows a sense of affection he was not prepared for when giving out the task.

what's more interesting, he never even planned to win by making edwin stay in port townsend. the cat king essentialy sets himself up for failure by giving a brilliant and meticulous boy– a goddamn detective– a riddle which he can easily solve. it takes edwin what, a few days to get close to the exact number?

of course, he expected that. eventually.

what he's really willing to bet on is the time spent with edwin, hoping he'll warm up to him by sheer proximity. the amount of stolen moments depended on his luck, if the boy turned out to be extra clever, maybe he'd have two or three days. maybe a week or more. from his experience, perhaps enough to break the uptight tease's composure.

but typically it ricochets, because he's the one getting hopelessly and romantically attached by the end.

with the events unfolding, the cat king gets progressively more trapped within the bounds he set himself. some of them he can't escape and it's fine, like his kingdom, an enclosure as much as a reluctant playground.

(credits to the king, making sure they are on equal grouds for this game at least— with the caging bracelet, edwin also cannot escape.)

the point is, it's been a power exchange since the beginning, and with the exception for the very first meeting, each little rendezvous ends with edwin reaffirming his agency.

edwin's body is physically unmovable from the town's area, but his mind's eye toys with the budding attraction for the cat king almost out of his control. so you have a ghost who can hop to anywhere in the world– who's brilliant brain expands to the edges of human reasoning, ever evolving, never stilling– who has a best friend at his side, and he's still so. terribly. lonely.

and you have a trickster who's rightful place comes with the job title– who can get anything he wants and be whoever he needs– who after three or four regenerations and probably hundreds of years still hasn't learned how to let people in without bleeding out in the process.

and look: that's the point. they have to hurt each other. it purifies them. the confusion, the baring of teeth and cheeks, the knowing naked looks. they need each other like dark soil needs essential nutrients.

edwin experiences an epiphany: apparently, being cornered can lead to a greater understanding of yourself. and also, desires have a mind of their own? who'd have guessed? they're capable of manifesting through his ghost body and only by facing them upfront— by having a facsimile of a honest conversation with the cat king— edwin can make peace with what he wants, and who he is. for edwin, the trickster represents forbidden and not easily accessible freedom of a physical body, with all its needs and peculiarities.

but for the cat king, oh my. edwin represents the true freedom of soul.

i mean, look at what hell dragged in. took a little over a week for this white lily to bloom, confident and devastating in its beauty, when it should be charred black or wilting.

but you like his secret parts, don't you? are you even aware of yours? if he asks, will you let him dig in?

[theallianceofcelestials]

How would the Nightmare family and SCP family react to each other?

I'm going to assume by Nightmare family, you mean the Watchful Nightmare gang. If not so, feel free to correct me!

Well in Interdimensional Mishap we see how WN!KC, WN!Bloodmoon and WN!Eclipse react to SEA!Eclipse and he to them, so I'm not gonna talk more about that, cuz I that's the one most fleshed out in my brain.

I'm gonna go down the SEA character list for this:

Eclipse

WN Sun and Moon would probably be unsure of this adult Eclipse, especially at the current stage of their relationship with their own where the little guy is suspicious and kinda hostile to them and they're incredibly unsure and irritated by some of his behaviour. They wouldn't trust SEA Eclipse, and he'd have a hard time looking at these versions of his uncles being hostile to him. The most amicable thing they'd probably end up doing for a while is mutually avoiding each other.

WN Lunar, who's basically a toddler, would absolutely love this big Eclipse, because he looks like a mix of his favourite rayed people! Even if his colouration is a bit darker, he still looks like Clipsey! So he would want to nap on him. Meanwhile SEA Eclipse is desperately trying to get the tiny version of what he thinks is his baby brother off, because he does not want to be drooled on!

WN Earth would take one look at the guy and decide he needs a friend. She'd probably be cautious, because this whole other dimension could be a ploy to get close to the children to kill them, but WN KC seems so sure he's a good 'kid', so she's willing to see where this may go. Eclipse on the other hand would be grateful for her calm and collected behaviour, sticking the closest to her.

Killcode

SEA Killcode would melt at the sight of his children as so small and young. Especially because he could never experience raising his own Eclipse, even if that'd have looked different. He'd probably happily let them hang off of him constantly, happy to be used as a playground. If any monsters came near him, he'd murder those brutally. He may have troubles leaving them for long, his instincts insisting he shouldn't leave children this small alone.

WN Killcode and him would beef, no doubt about that. They'd also be dad buds, gossiping about their kids. No inbetween. They'd each have trouble with leaving the other's children alone, though WN KC would be weirded out by the whole being the youngest of triplets thing. He doesn't really consider Sun and Moon his family yet at the point we're in the story.

WN Sun would be terrified of him, however even shaking, he'd try being friendly. Killcode would appreciate it, and he'd be nice to him seeing as that's basically a different version of his brother.

WN Moon would be hostile at first, especially when they learn these aren't really animatronics. That wouldn't sit right with him in a world full of monsters. They probably wouldn't become buddy-buddy with each other, despite Killcode's best attempts, but they'd be amiceable.

WN Earth would be a surprise for SEA Killcode, but not an unwelcome one in the end. They'd trade recipes and would end up becoming fast friends. Especially when Earth gives him advice on how to approach Eclipse's issues.

Solar Flare

Solar Flare would still show great respect towards WN Killcode, despite him being unsure about this stranger that's supposedly the child of a version of him. However because it's respectful toward him, he's nice to it too. However they wouldn't get over basic politeness. At least that's what Solar Flare thinks.

WN Bloodmoon would use it as a chew toy. Solar Flare is not amused

WN Eclipse would be something it can't really handle, despite the kid being attracted by its calm demeanor and cool looks. Clipsey would attempt to draw it into an activity, and it'd just freeze. It doesn't know how Eclipse can handle seeing a kid version of himself so well, when it freezes up.

WN Lunar is clearly too small, and needs more food in him immediately. Something shouldn't be that small. Lunar is just confused by the weird looking guy.

WN Sun and Moon would be the most hostile to it, because of how weird it looks. It in turn wouldn't trust them. To mend their relationship, they'd need a lot of time spent together to chill out.

WN Earth is nice company because she's quiet. She's a bit unsure about the weird looking not-animatronic, but she trusts what everyone else says about it, so she'll give it a chance. She's not disappointed.

Bloodmoon

WN Bloodmoon and SEA Bloodmoon would be partners in chaos. Their eldest siblings turned middle children and baby siblings energies would combine in the most chaotic manner. Though SEA Bloodmoon would probably be pretty indulgent with their younger alternative selves. They'd also try to impart some of their hard earned wisdom, with little succes most likely.

WN Killcode could just call for his own Bloodmoon and they'd be there in a heartbeat too. It's too ingrained in them to listen to their father to recognise the difference between tones and whatnot until they're already standing before a confused KC. They'd feel mostly embarrassed because of this around him. He'd be greatly amused after a while by them mistaking him for their dad.

WN Eclipse would be a really sore spot for them, because that1s a child version of their brother! One they never got to have! They'd be jelaous on their brother's part, however they would be the nicest with that kid. They'd look after the tiny, angry, rayed creature to the best of their abilities. They'd find him sweet and he'd find them weird, because what do you mean there's a Bloodmoon who's technically older than their Eclipse? He'd try to big brother them same as with his baby siblings, and they'd indulge him.

Bloodmoon would be nice with WN Sun, who'd thus like them, and a gremlin with WN Moon, who's mostly just annoyed by them. Same as with their uncles. Only they have to be more careful with them, cuz they're fragile.

They wouldn't know what to do with Earth, unfamiliar as they are with their dimension's verison of her, so they'd be mistrustful. They wouldn't feel comfortable with her, and she'd respect their wishes. They'd eventually warm up to her, but not without a hefty amount of cookie bribes.

WN Lunar would immediately steal their heart, and they'd let the tiny kid nap in their nightcap. Lunar would just be happy to have this cool pillow that moves. Whenever he clambers on top of them, they freeze like how some people do when cats climb onto them.

Lunar

Lunar would find the toddler version of himself boring. Because this tiny thing can't even do anything! WN Lunar however would want to always climb onto the fluffy cape he wears. He'd be glued to him whenever he enters the room.

WN Eclipse, just like with his brothers, would be a punch in a place he didn't even realise hurt. He'd be filled with all sorts of potential scenarios of what sorts of mischief and trouble they could have gotten into, if they had Eclipse as the eldest. But like actually as the eldest. Just them being children together, growing up in the safety of their father and uncles' shadow. Clipsey wouldn't understand what this guy's problem is, and would leave him alone.

WN Earth and Lunar would get along like a house on fire. He's just mischiveous enough to reming her of the nicer parts of life, while he also carries a wiseness with him that comes from being an ancient SCP who got trapped in a prison. She in turn would help him to truly process just what happened with them. She'd also like hugging him because of the fluffy cape.

WN Bloodmoon and him would be troublemakers together too. He'd join the Bloodmoon quartet and just indulge the child with tricks and pranks.

WN Killcode would think he's a child at first, and thus offend him. He'd spend the rest of their time together trying to make ammends while also trying not to laugh. Lunar's just sulking.

WN Sun and Moon would be weirded out by an adult version of their charge, when all they have is the toddler version. Especially because they look so starkly different. He's greatly amused in turn by their shock. He'd milk all the amusement he can get out of that.

Moon

WN Moon and Moon would be on sight violence. They both hate themselves, they're both somewhat murderous and they both have anger issues. They'd hate each other.

WN Sun and him on the other hand would sometimes awkwardly slip into the sibling dynamic. He'd be especially protective over this version of Sunny, because he's so fragile. Sun would just feel embarrassed around him for calling him his brother.

WN Eclipse would judge him quite harshly, especially based on his own knowledge of their Moon, which'd hit hard for him. Because there's the kid version of his nephew, and he apparently hates him already. It'd take a while for him to realise the kid is just suspicious of him.

WN Bloodmoon and Lunar would remind him of all the parts he hates about children. They're loud, they need loads of attention and they're so unpredictable. He doesn't know why he seems to be such a magnet for the brats, especially when he threatens to toss them in the air quite a lot whenever they're near him. Them laughing and shrieking in joy when he delivers on the threat is just giving him a headache.

WN Earth and him would be awkward around each other, and they truly wouldn't move past general politeness. They talk if they're in the same room, but they're not each other's first choice of company.

WN Killcode would be annoyed by his big brotherly behaviour, and Moon would find it amusing. They'd be little shits to each other, and KC would be shocked to notice he's been adopted as a younger brother. Moon would be greatly amused when he realises.

Sun

WN Sun and Earth and SEA Sun would be besties who talk about cats and other cute animals together while they're sewing. They'd each be gossiping about their own family, which'd result in the lot sometimes giggling while looking at someone. He'd also feel the need to guide these two young animatronics, becoming something like a mentor.

WN Moon would be shocked by a Sun who has his shit as together as SEA Sun, but ultimately happen there's at least one world where his twin seems to get the room to grow into a confident and amusing person without all the anxiety coming with almost dying everyday. He wouldn't know what to do when SEA Sun begins acting brotherly towards him. Sun on his part is just worried about this overtly tired and withdrawn Moon.

WN Killcode still wouldn't appreciate being treated like a brother. But he can't stop it. Sun and Moon have found a different dimensional version of their baby brother, and he's just so precious! They must tease him!

WN Bloodmoon would look up to him, because this Sunman is cool! Sun would just be greatly amused by the kid before him. It's like his nephew being a child all over again. Only this one's tinier and now he can take pictures.

Lunar would melt his heart and they could be often found napping together. He'd cuddle that toddler whenever. It's unstoppable. Good thing WN Lunar thinks he's a great bed

WN Eclipse would be a bittersweet sight for him. He's all too aware, just like everyone else, how his nephew never had this for himself. And the part where one could argue he was a child was spent in probably horrible circumstances. Clipsey wouldn't understand why all these people are sad because of him, and would just generally avoid Sun. He doesn't like how they're all sad when they look at him.

Welp this took a while! Hope this is actually what you wanted and I didn't misunderstand you. Feel free to correct me if I did! Sorry it took this long to answer!

[angeldoll2000]

Naughty Little Thief

Dark!Jackson Rippner x Theif!Reader

Word Count: +5,416

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Theft, Stalking, Manhandling, Forced Oral (m receiving), Forced Stripping, Forced grinding, Unwanted orgasm, Classism, Verbal abuse, Partial loss of virginity, Rimming (f receiving), Public sex, Humiliation.

Author's Note(s): I'm bored at work and wanted to kill some time before studying. Here's more Cillian content.

It's the holiday season, and you end up pickpocketing the wrong person. He makes sure you'll regret ever crossing paths with him.

You felt bad for what you were about to do. But he didn't seem like he was financially struggling. So of course, you decided to pickpocket the stranger. Deep down you hated it, but there was no other choice. It was either this or going hungry tonight. At the end of the day it didn't matter, money was money. That was the mindset that's kept you alive for so long. You spot the chosen victim, he's a businessman, seemingly in his thirties, wearing an expensive tailored suit. Jackpot.

You wind your way through the crowd of shoppers, scurrying towards the unsuspecting man. You're right beside him, giving a light pinch to his left side. As soon as he turns to find the source, you quickly reach into his right pocket and pull out his wallet, scurrying into the crowd to disappear. That was almost too easy. You could tell by the texture alone that it was expensive. You turn it around and read the embroidery on the flap, 'J. Rippner'. A man who has good taste.

But before you could open it, someone grips the back of your neck. A large leather hand digs into your skin. You cry out, dropping the wallet as both of your hands reach for the stranger's. He turns you to face him. It's Rippner, and he's pissed, "Where the hell do you think you're going? Hm?"

"I...I.." you were at a loss of words. He drags you by the arm into the nearest alleyway. You look around for someone, anyone who would see what was happening and stop him. No one, of course. Who would help a thief like you? He slams you hard against a brick wall, your head throbbing in pain from the impact. It takes you a while to catch your breath as all the air had escapes your lungs. He uses his body to trap yours between the cold stone, caging you with him.

He growls, "You wanna steal from me you thieving little bitch?!", he's fuming, "I should drag your ass straight to the police station," he hisses, his features twisting with anger. You could tell by those cold, piercing eyes that he was not an easily forgiving man. Yet still, you tried to persuade him, "W-wait! Please! I'll do anything! I-I swear!"

Jackson pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering up at down your quivering form. He's thinking of something that would satisfy his growing hunger, "Show me your tits," for a moment, you couldn't believe what he had just said, brows furrowing in confusion, "I-I'm sorry?" you look at him as if he'd grown two heads. He leans in, now grumbling, "Show me those tits, and I'll decide if you're worth letting go,"

His hands grip the front of your jacket as he unzips it. He rips open the buttons off your blouse, ignoring your protests. Finally reaching a lacy bralette hidden under all those layers. He whistles, "Well I'll be damned, you weren't expecting anyone, were you?" he mocks. Your fingers dig into his arms, but it was futile. You bare your teeth at the man holding you hostage, "Go to hell you perv!" that remark only worsens your situation. He drags the fabric down, revealing both your breasts to the winter air.

You gasp, trying your best to cover them. A leather gloves reaches to twist one of your buds. His voice is stern, "I'm sorry, what was that?" pulling harshly at the sensitive nub. You yelp from his touch, retreating in hopes that he would halt his actions. You were wrong, instead that bratty tone from earlier, landed you a harsh slap on the chest. His gloves didn't ease the impact. He delivers strike after strike against your bare flesh. Until both buds began to peak on their own.

He fondles them in his hands, eyeing his work, "Nice tits..." he gives both of them a squeeze, pulling them towards him, "Very responsive..." his deep voice now a purr. All you could do was glare back at him with tearful eyes, trying your best not to cry. You hadn't expected a complete stranger to be so cruel. You, a literal thief.

Jackson dips a finger into your mouth. When you try to bite down, he delivers a light tap on your jaw. Holding the back of your head with an iron grip as he points in your face, "Don't even think about it, I'm not joking I'll drag your sorry ass bare naked down the streets," he threatens. His hands reach around your waist. He yanks your pants down to your ankles. Exposing your bottom half to him.

He takes a look at the panties you were wearing. Staring back at the teddy bear print and smirks, "How adorable..." his fingers slide in between your legs, caressing the now slick folds though the fabric. You turned your head to the side to see if any onlookers would pass by. He notices and angles his body to cover your form. He whispers in your ear, "Shh...I just need you to help me, and I'll help you, then we're even," it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

He reaches around the waist of your panties, slowly sliding off your underwear. He groans at the sight of it, licking his gloved digits before sliding them up and down your slit. You whine from the light, sensual touches. He reaches for your opening, collecting any wetness. His breathing increases, as does yours. He captures your bud in his hand, teasing it until you almost lost footing. You grip his shoulder for balance. He chuckles, "Oh you like that, don't you?" he teases. That earns him a harsh slap.

You were done being his little plaything. No more, you weren't going to whore yourself out to anyone. Especially not to some trust-fund baby. His head whips the other way, strands of his hair now dangling against his forehead. His cheek twitches, as if there were a battle going on inside him, "Oh, you've fucked up now..." both his hands are around your neck, squeezing it as hard as he could. You try fighting back, fingers digging into his wrists.

But it was futile, there was no way of stopping him. When your vision begins to blur and grip starts to weaken, he lets go. You cough hysterically, trying your best to breathe again. He waits until you're done with the dramatics. He grips your chin, eyes boring into your own, "That, was a warning," he pushes both your shoulders down until you're on your knees, "This, is your punishment," slotting his foot in between both legs.

He forces you to sit on his leather shoe, tilting your head to look him in the eyes, "Get yourself off," he commands. By now, you know not to disobey his orders. You try testing the waters, the cold leather felt uncomfortable against your bare mound. It was almost unbearable. It takes a while before you collect any slickness. Your ears getting warmer despite the weather.

Rippner chuckles, he retrieves his foot before you've had a chance to finish. He examines his now wet shoe. He sneers, "Really? You're seriously getting off on me using you like this?" a cruel grin plays on his face. He presses his shoe against your bare pussy, he mushes it against the opening, "Of course you'd like that...you're nothing but filth..." his cruel words made you blink back tears. They feel hot gliding down your cheeks. It almost makes him feel bad for doing all of this to you. But then again, you did just try to rob him.

He sighs, "We've got to do something about that mouth of yours," he suddenly unzips his pants, pulling out his half-hard cock. Your eyes bulge at the sight of it, pressing your lips shut in protest. He held his girth in one hand and your hair in the other. Jackson glides his shaft across your face, his leaking tip smears precum on your cheek. He mockingly taps his cock against your lips. His voice is raspy, "Does this make you squirm?" he knew exactly what he was doing to you with those words.

He pinches the bridge of your nose to cut off any air supply, forcing your mouth to open. He doesn't waste any time shoving his member deep inside. His tip now touching the back of your throat. It makes your eyes water. The corners of your lips rip from the stretch of his girth alone. How it could fit, you hadn't a clue. Both his hands grip the sides of your head, as he begins to buck his hips. He groans, "Oh fuck...you feel fucking amazing..." moaning with each thrust.

He stops himself from going any further. He wants to cum inside, but not in your mouth. No, he'll save it for some other time. He pulls you away from his cock and you're an absolute mess. Spit and tears everywhere. He lifts you by the shoulders, pressing you against the brick wall, again. He aims his tip against your cunt. It takes you a moment to process what was happening. Then in a split moment both of your arms shoot out, "N-no! Not there!" You cried, "Anywhere but there!" your voice starts to break.

Even after losing everything, you still didn't want your first time to be with a complete stranger. He could do whatever he wants, just not that. His long fingers wrap around your neck, adding a bit of pressure as he whispers in your ear, "Oh? And why is that?" genuinely curious. Your answer is faint, almost silent. He didn't quite catch what was said, "I'm sorry, what was that?" he held your jaw in place so he could look at you in the face. There was no way, not at your age. Did he hear you correctly?

You were starting to get pissed off, "I said I never fucked before, asshole!" that had you receive a harsh slap on the ass, "Ow! Ow okay! I'm sorry, just stop already!" that explains a lot. How you managed to leave his gloves and shoe soaking wet. As much as Rippner wants to pump a load into that sweet pussy, he decides to save it for later. Instead, he flips you over, your bare chest now against concrete.

Jackson bites his lips. He can't believe he's getting on his knees for someone like you. He parts both your cheeks, spitting at your rim to get it nice and wet. He flattens his tongue, lapping it against the tight ring before thrusting it in. Your knees began to buckle, you use the wall for support. Pressing your face against the brick. He bobs his head to a rhythm, and you can't stop moaning. His tongue reaching deep inside the muscle. His free hand reaches to rub at your clit, while the other pumps his cock.

After a while he stands up, aiming his now leaking tip against the rim, "This is going to hurt, a lot," he starts to enter, pushing inch by inch. You squeal at the stretch. A gloved hand muffles your cries. He began to give short, small thrusts. He grunts from how tight you were. Almost climaxing from the squeeze you gave. He quickens his pace, wrapping his other arm around your waist for better leverage. From there he went on autopilot, ignoring your pleas to slow down. He simply couldn't, he doesn't want to.

Finally, he releases a load deep inside. You felt his hot spunk coating your insides. Your head felt heavy after already reaching your own orgasm. His head hung over your shoulder. His breathe felt warm, "I've been eyeing you for a while, little mouse," It's true, he's been watching you for some time. You had first caught his eye when his chauffer was stuck in traffic. He watched as you went into action. It was remarkable, that talent of yours.

He's been planning this for some time. Today he wanted to see you up close. He had to know more about you. Even asking his ride to drop him off a few blocks. Jackson purposely took this route knowing that he'd get robbed. He needed an excuse to talk to you, his little specimen of interest. He knew the exactly how you would steal from your victims. Although he couldn't feel the hand reaching into his pocket, it was pinch you gave to his side that indicated him the wallet had already been stolen. That was his sign to take over the situation.

His arms are still wrapped around your upper body, hands now playing with your tits, "I'm Jackson by the way, Jackson Rippner," he tells you while still buried deep inside, "You've been targeting this street for a while now, you live around here?" no answer. You downright refused to entertain him any longer. He gasps, "Oh...that's right I completely forgot..." he grips your hips, slowly pulling out his member. He hisses from the feeling. It's almost too good to stop.

He retrieves a napkin from his coat pocket and hands it to you. When you refuse to take it, he isn't mad. Although you were testing his patience. He helps you get changed, satisfied that you kept his load in. Your panties were probably soaked by now. Once the both of you were decent, he asks you again. Yet still, no answer. For that he lands another slap on the same spot. You yelp from the impact, "Here! I live here!" "I know that, but where? This is a shopping district, there aren't any homes in this area, so, answer my question: Where do you live?"

You look out the alleyway to a place across the street. He pulls you in, with an arm now wrapped around your waist. From a distance it seemed as if the two of you were lovers. You guide him to where you've been living in the past few months. Right across the street in a small, worn-out vehicle. Jackson raises a brow, "You live...in a car?" he sounds genuinely surprised.

It's the dead of winter. Not exactly the perfect time to be stuck out on the streets. But it was all you had. You turn around to face him, "Yeah well, some of us don't have daddy's money to get us by..." you scoff. He likes that answer. Good, you wouldn't have anyone to miss you. He grins from ear to ear, tilting his head, "If that's the case, you're coming with me," He drags you to a mysterious black car with tinted windows. Your feet drag against the pavement. You' we're too exhausted to fight back.

It felt uncomfortable trying to find a sitting position. Jackson hops in right after, sitting unbearably close to you. He held you close, like a lover would. He sighs with adoration, "You don't have to worry about your things because I'm keeping you," he taps the tip of your nose, "But no more stealing? Got it?" he'd rather not draw any negative attention your way. Jackson then hums a holiday tune, which one you didn't care. All you could think of was how much you regretted ever stealing from him. He held you close to him, stroking your hair before giving a chaste kiss, "Merry Christmas to me, eh?"

[darius-shack]

I haven't seen GF in years but was abruptly reminded a while ago and found your blog and your Pinecest+Stancest posts while looking at the Pinecest tag so I gotta share this plot that's now trapped in my brain. If I got the details about canon wrong, blame the passage of time, not me lol.

Ok I'm sure I'm not the only one who came up with that but: Mutually Unrequited/Pining Stans that both never acted on their feelings and spent the entire separation depressed about it and blaming the way they were hiding their feelings partially for how things went down. Enter Pinecest, only just clocking that this is Not Normal Sibling Feelings.

Stan encourages it when he first realizes it because he never got to even try, but maybe Mabel and Dipper can be happy. So he bullies any boys Mabel brings home, shuts down Dipper's flirt attempts with Wendy & Pacifica - Dipper catches on to his feelings first and wants to prove to himself that he's NORMAL OKAY??? he is, in fact, super not normal, but he'll scream that he is at the top of his lungs - and then Ford returns.

Ford also immediately catches on to Dipper's crush. Because he gets Dipper, and of course, he'd love his twin. He can't see Mabel's feelings as easily because he's insta-transferencing her and Stanley and the idea of her liking Dipper back is unfathomable (read: heartbreaking) because then it means perhaps Stanley could've loved him too.

But he cares about Dipper, so Ford thinks the best he can do is maybe help cut off those feelings at the knees before there's no going back for him, at least Dipper might not totally lose Mabel the way he and Stan thought they had lost each other, might eventually lead a normal non-recluse full of regrets life unlike them. So Ford offers to let Dipper stay without letting on his real reason to do so, and Mabel FLIPS OUT.

The thoughts have been building in the back of her head for a while, and she's suddenly confronted with what she never thought possible. Losing Dipper. And it hurts so so much and then Weirdmageddon comes and things go completely off the rails and now she knows she loves him but he's her brother, the world is ending and maybe he doesn't actually like her at all.

It ends with Dipper admitting to Mabel why he was even contemplating separation and Ford is trying to stop him while Stan has been working for this for months, damnit, and Ford's attempts at shutting the confession down just kill him. Dipper says it anyway, and Mabel thinks she's dreaming, but yeah, dummy, I love you too. How could you even think otherwise?

And seeing their dramatic first kiss totally guts Ford. He's happy for them, clearly, but he wants this oh so much and he can't have it. Stanley is shocked at how much Ford's affected by this development and things just blow up from there, and before either of them know it they're kissing.

Meanwhile Mabel and Dipper finally remember where they are and who they're with and fuck this is going to be difficult to explain - wait wtf GRUNKLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING. Well nothing they weren't right before that.

The rest of summer is an insanely awkward transition period where both couples are trying to work out how to deal with this new dynamic and what it means for their lives, especially for when Dipper and Mabel go back home. But everyone is insanely happy and when Dipper and Mabel come back to GF it's together, to a married couple of Grunkles (in everything except the eyes of the law).

And perhaps someday a - but lbr it'll be two - Pinecest Baby crawls around the Mystery Shack to everyone's delight...

ANON YOU'RE SO CRACKED AAAAAAAAH

such a cute premise of them finding out about each other's budding relationships despite the warnings from Ford and adamant attitude from Stan. SO good. flavor.

also implying that ford and stan were like watching/listening from around the corner or something is peak. honestly? this ask means so much to me.

[idaisyy]

Tag , you’re in - a cmpunk x oc enimies to lovers

Chapter 15-

As they slowly started to both get up and get ready to leave the locker room to head home something both weighed on them

What they just did wasn't very casual at all

He held her and she layed on him for a while after they were both finished in the locker room

They for the last few days kept telling themselves that all the tension from hating each other had spilled into sexual tension and that's why this kept happening

But that didn't explain the jealousy they had on both their parts

Daisy stood in the hallway, arms crossed, trying her best to keep her composure as Cody went on about something she wasn't even fully processing. She was exhausted—wrecked—from what had just gone down with Punk in the locker room. Her thighs were still tingling, her legs slightly unsteady, and worst of all, her gear was a mess, the aftermath of their little session still clinging to her. She shifted uncomfortably, hoping Cody wouldn't notice, but every movement reminded her of exactly what she and Punk had just done.

Cody, oblivious as ever, kept talking, his voice all soft and sweet, like he thought he was winning her over.

Then, from down the hall, a familiar chuckle echoed.

"Oh, this is fucking rich," Punk drawled, striding toward them with that stupid smug grin. Daisy immediately tensed, knowing he'd figured it out just by looking at her.

Cody turned, frowning slightly. "What's so funny?"

Punk ignored him completely, eyes locked on Daisy as he came to stand beside her. His smirk only deepened when she shifted again, clearly trying not to squirm. He leaned in just a little, voice low enough for only her to hear.

"You're standing here, having a heart-to-heart while sitting in your own mess?" he murmured, barely restraining his laughter. "That's wild, sweetheart."

Daisy's eyes went wide, and she immediately elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up," she hissed, her face burning.

Punk only snickered, then turned his attention to Cody, who still looked mildly confused. "Listen, bud, she's, uh—" he shot Daisy a look, barely containing his amusement—"exhausted. Totally spent. Can't do another second on her feet. So, we gotta get going. Real shame. I'm sure you had so much more to say."

Daisy wanted to kill him.

Cody furrowed his brow. "Daisy, are you okay?"

She felt Punk glance at her again, felt the way his amusement practically radiated off of him, and she knew he was waiting to see how she'd respond.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, avoiding eye contact. "Just really tired. Gotta get back to the hotel."

Punk clapped a hand on her shoulder, grinning. "Yep. Big day. Long day. She's got nothing left, man."

Daisy shot him a glare, but he only winked at her before tugging her forward, effectively pulling her away from Cody.

As soon as they rounded the corner, Punk let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, you were standing there talking to your ex while literally dripping down your own thighs."

Daisy smacked his arm. "You did this to me!"

Punk waggled his brows. "You asked for it."

She huffed, trying to fight back a smile, but she couldn't. Especially when Punk kept laughing to himself like this was the funniest shit in the world.

By the time they reached the exit, they were both giggling like idiots, Daisy shaking her head as Punk continued to mutter little teases under his breath. And despite how much of an asshole he was being, she didn't hate it.

Not even a little.

Once they get back to the hotel room they are both exhausted , both from each other and the match

While Daisy layed in bed she wondered

They had never kissed

Cody didn't ever go down on her but he at least kissed her , not that she was complaining she'd much rather be given head than kissed but still , it was weird

Usually during the sexual things they had been doing a make out is common , or at least a quick little kiss sesh

Punk shifts in his bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark. The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Daisy has been thinking about it for a while now, turning it over in her head. They've done so many intimate things, things she never thought she'd do with him of all people—but they've never kissed. Not once.

She doesn't even know why it matters to her. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe it's just curiosity. But before she can talk herself out of it, she speaks up.

"Is there a reason we don't kiss?"

The silence that follows is thick, and she wonders for a second if he's going to pretend he didn't hear her. Then, Punk shifts again, rolling onto his side, but he doesn't look at her.

"What kind of stupid question is that?" His voice is sharp, defensive, like she's caught him off guard.

Daisy frowns, turning onto her side to face him, even though she can barely see him in the dark. "It's not a stupid question. I was just wondering."

"Well, stop wondering," he snaps.

That stings more than it should. "Jesus, okay," she mutters, turning back onto her back.

The room falls back into silence, but it's different now—thicker, heavier. Daisy feels stupid for asking. It's not like she cares. It's not like she wants to kiss him. Right?

But then Punk sighs, and his voice comes quieter this time. "It's just not necessary."

She blinks up at the ceiling. "Not necessary?"

"We don't need to do that," he says, as if that explains everything.

Daisy scoffs. "And we need to do everything else?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"It just is."

She exhales sharply, annoyed now. "You're being so weird about this."

"I'm not being weird," he argues, but he is.

Daisy turns back on her side, staring at where she knows he is in the darkness. "Are you scared or something?"

Punk lets out a bitter laugh. "Scared? Of you?"

"I don't know. You're acting like if we kiss, the world will end."

"I just don't see the point." His voice is flat, cold, dismissive.

And that's what finally shuts her up. Because fine. If he doesn't want to kiss her, if he thinks it's pointless, then she won't ask again. She turns back onto her back and stares at the ceiling, refusing to say another word.

Punk doesn't say anything either, but she knows he's still awake. She can feel it. And in the silence of the room, she can't help but wonder—if it's so unnecessary, if it doesn't mean anything... then why is he so afraid of it?

Daisy stays quiet for a while, letting his dismissive response sit between them. But the longer she thinks about it, the more something starts to nag at her. If kissing her is so unnecessary, if he doesn't see the point, then... what? Does he just not want to?

The thought makes her stomach twist. She shifts in bed, staring at the ceiling, then finally blurts out, "Do you think I'm ugly or something?"

Punk lets out an exasperated groan. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Daisy."

"I'm serious," she says, voice a little smaller than before. "Is that why?"

"No, that's not why," he snaps, clearly frustrated.

"Then what is it?"

Punk sits up suddenly, rubbing his hands down his face. "Jesus, you don't let shit go, do you?"

"Not when you're being weird about it!" Daisy props herself up on her elbows, trying to see his face in the dark. "You've gone down on me multiple times. I've gone down on you. We dry-humped in a locker room of all places. But kissing me is too much? Make it make sense."

Punk exhales sharply, shaking his head. "It's just... different, okay?"

"How?"

"It just is."

"That's not an answer."

Punk groans again and flops back down onto his pillow. "Daisy, I swear to god, drop it."

She crosses her arms. "So, you do think I'm ugly."

Punk throws his hands up. "Oh my fucking god, I do not think you're ugly."

"Well, you clearly don't want to kiss me—"

"That's not—" He stops himself, then sighs heavily. "It's not that, alright?"

Daisy watches him, frustrated and confused. "Then what is it?"

Punk clenches his jaw, silent for a long moment. His fingers tap impatiently against his stomach. "I don't do that," he mutters finally.

She frowns. "You don't do what?"

"Kissing. It's... too personal."

Daisy blinks. "Too personal?"

Punk turns his head, looking at her through the darkness. "Yeah." His voice is quieter now.

Daisy stares at him, taking in the way his body is still tense, like he's waiting for her to push him further. And maybe she should. Maybe she wants to.

But instead, she just exhales and lays back down. "You're so fucking weird."

Punk lets out a breath that almost sounds like relief. "Yeah, well, you're fucking annoying."

She rolls her eyes, turning her back to him. "Goodnight, Punk."

He hesitates before responding. "Goodnight, Daisy."

Neither of them falls asleep for a long time.

This ends up becoming an issue for Daisy for the next couple of days

Why didn't he want to kiss me she thinks , during every spare second of the days as they go by

I mean he said it was because it was too personal but maybe he just thinks I'm a bad kisser , the thought rolls around her brain uncontrollably

But deep down it was the fact that she wanted him to be personal with her

She would never say this of course, hell she didn't even know it herself , it was so deep inside her that she refused to even acknowledge it

But a couple days after there talk it ends up boiling over

Punk is kneeling between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips like he's done a dozen times before, his mouth about to leave her breathless—

But this time, Daisy stops him.

His brow furrows as he looks up at her. "What?"

She shifts uncomfortably, her fingers gripping the sheets beneath her. "I just... not tonight."

Punk blinks, clearly thrown off. "Since when do you say no to this?"

Daisy looks away, feeling stupid for even making it a thing. But she can't help it. Ever since that night in the hotel room, when he flat-out refused to kiss her because it was too personal, she hasn't been able to get it out of her head. It sits in her chest, heavy and annoying, and it only gets worse every time they do this.

Every time he touches her. Every time he takes care of her. Every time he makes her feel good—but refuses to let it be anything more.

It shouldn't bother her. It really shouldn't.

But it does.

Punk sighs, clearly irritated, and sits back on his heels. "Alright. Whatever." He pushes himself off the bed, reaching for his shirt.

Daisy watches him, frustration bubbling up in her chest. "That's it?"

Punk glances over his shoulder. "What do you want me to do, beg?"

"No," she snaps. "I just—forget it." She turns away, pulling the sheets up over her.

Punk exhales sharply, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, you're impossible."

Daisy clenches her jaw, not trusting herself to speak. She hears him mutter something under his breath before he grabs his stuff and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

And now she feels even worse.

She groans and buries her face in the pillow. Why does this even matter to her? Why does he matter?

They hate each other.

...right?

[jo-harrington]

Luminous Beings - Episode 3: I've Got a Bad Feeling About This

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: Eddie gets a little grumpy as he loses control of his ship and his crew, and he's about to do something about it.

Word Count: 7.7k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Fluff, Budding Romance, Pigtail-Pulling Behavior, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Distrust, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague References to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge

Note: Thanks again to everyone reading. This chapter is going to be a little more light-hearted; to quote one Anakin Skywalker "this is where the fun begins."

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Nar Shaddaa - 10BBY

Eddie didn't consider himself a proud man.

Pride led to mistakes.

And in this life, mistakes got you killed.

Still, he was proud of a few things. Proud of the fact that he and his friends had gotten off that dump of a planet, that they'd been generally successful in their smuggling so far, and that they'd even managed to play music through all the chaos in the galaxy.

Most of all, though, he was proud of his ship.

The Dragonborn had come a long way from the scrap heap that once played home to their fantasies. She might've been an old model, but a ship was a ship; they all looked the same on the inside. Sure, there were still parts of it held together with bonding tape and a prayer, but she flew like a dream. The smoothest jump to hyperspace you could ever experience.

It was a symbol of their efforts to make their dreams a reality.

And it was their home.

"It's a mess," Thalia announced judgmentally as Eddie led her through the ship to the main deck.

"What?" Eddie's voice went shrill as he abruptly stopped and turned on his heel to face her. He grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her before she crashed into him.

He'd been graciously giving her a tour while the guys put together a makeshift bunk in their poor excuse for a med bay. Their ship wasn't a passenger ship; it wasn't even a freighter technically, but they made do. An old war ship from a time long-forgotten, it was fast, discreet, and meant to carry minimal crew. So there–understandably–wasn't much extra space, and all the beds in the bunkroom were occupied.

Unless she wanted to squeeze in with one of them, which he doubted.

It wasn't some fancy starliner–if you could even call the vessels Star Tours flew starliners–but he wasn’t a tyrant. He wanted her to be comfortable while she was aboard. So he wouldn't have to hear any kind of complaints, at the very least.

He should've known he wouldn't be so lucky.

"What do you mean 'it's a mess?'" he asked. He stopped himself from giving her a good shake. "These are the best accommodations you're gonna get, even on your budget, sweetheart."

"Seriously?" She huffed a little laugh and looked around.

Eddie followed her gaze to mud caked on the floors and walls from the last excursion to...well, maybe it had been there for a while. Then she gestured to a stack of crates that blocked the entrance to their singular escape pod.

Or, rather, it had been a stack. Everything toppled over at some point.

And had that musty smell always been there?

Thalia turned back to Eddie, eyebrows raised expectantly, as she waited for him to try and defend his ship again.

He tried to make an excuse instead.

"We're too busy to clean. You try being one of the best smuggling crews in the galaxy. Keeping tidy isn't one of the key strengths you need."

"Uh huh." She didn't look convinced.

"And haven't you ever had a roommate before?" Eddie smirked at her. "Or has all your freelancing gotten you a flat in the Senate District."

"I've had roommates." Thalia replied, and then shot her own smirk at him. Eddie made a mental note about how she avoided the question about her place of residence.

She continued.

"They were all neat and organized and considerate and respectful. A delight to be around."

"Then you chose the wrong ship, sweetheart." He leaned in close and his voice dropped low, as if he was about to tell a secret. "We're just a bunch of scoundrels."

Her eyes darted between his as she hummed judgmentally in response. Eddie's own eyes narrowed in return; he could practically feel the fiery challenge spark within her, and he felt drawn to its heat.

He was about to lean closer, say some other scathing words to antagonize her, but a series of aggressive beeps and boops and whistles interrupted him. He rolled his eyes, released his grip on Thalia, and backed away so he could confront the source of the intrusion head-on.

The clunky bin-shaped droid rolled down the ramp leading from the main deck, directing scathing binary beeps at him as it closed the distance. Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes.

He was about to tell the little droid off when Thalia's amusement-filled voice stopped him.

"And who is this?" she asked, clearly trying to hold back a smile.

The droid stopped beeping and its head swiveled towards her. It rolled backwards momentarily, maybe in fear, before it continued and stopped right before her. A panel on the front of its body popped open and a utility arm extended out.

The droid beeped as it greeted Thalia, head swiveling back and forth happily.

Eddie rolled his eyes again.

The Dragonborn hadn't been the only thing that the boys had fixed up during those final years back on Bracca. One might even say that it was secondary to another project.

They'd found the old T-7 series droid out in the junk-filled oblivion as kids; collectively, they had all been a little too poor to own an astro-droid, so it had been a joyous discovery. Over the years, they fixed him. Replaced parts of his body, as well as his innards, repainted him, and made him look as cool as their teenage minds could fathom; they salvaged as much of the old T-7 droid as they could, but in the end, he was made of more replacement components than his original parts.

When he was finally booted up, it didn't feel right to call him T-7. So Eddie and his friends gave him a new name.

"It's nice to meet you too, D5-TN," Thalia greeted the droid. She reached out to grab the utility arm in a pseudo-handshake. "I'm Thalia."

"You can call him Dustin," Eddie explained. "Or Dusty. Or Dust Bin. Technically that was his original name. Dusty Dust Bin."

D5-TN's head swiveled towards Eddie and let out a string of expletive beeps that had Thalia biting her lip to hold back a laugh.

"Come on now," Eddie groaned. "Don't embarrass me in front of a guest."

D5-TN let out a very argumentative sound, as if to tell Eddie not to embarrass him.

Eddie simply ignored it and continued to explain. "She's gonna be flying with us to Coruscant. So if you'd like to head back to the bridge and get the coordinates so we can get out of Hutt Space and be on our way?"

Dustin rocked back and forth in irritation, but turned and rolled back up the ramp regardless.

As he rolled away, another panel opened, this time on the side of his body, and another utility arm extended out. A small, blue flame ignited at the end of the arm in the droid's interpretation of a crude gesture.

Which earned an obnoxiously loud honk of laughter from Thalia.

"Did you teach him that?" She giggled once the droid was out of sight.

"Jeff did," Eddie deadpanned, but shook his head with the smallest of chuckles. "Sometimes I wish I had, though. Little shit."

"Jeff?" Thalia asked. "Or Dusty."

"Both of them."

They grinned at each other, and then Eddie gestured onwards to continue the tour.

Apart from the general state of disarray–which Thalia pointedly stared at and Eddie pointedly ignored–the rest of the tour went without a hitch. The other guys all made their appearances as they headed towards the bridge after setting up Thalia's bunk.

Eventually, Thalia and Eddie ended up back down on the lower deck. The guys had done a good job setting up for her.

"There's a 'fresher right across here," Eddie pointed out. "And another one with a turbo shower next to the bunkroom. Sorry in advance about Dayv's farts; they're toxic and they linger."

Thalia snorted and he grinned.

"The galley is always open if you get hungry," he continued. "I'm partial to snacking but G'areth is our resident cook and he's pretty good."

"I'm looking forward to his culinary talents."

"And if you need anything else, just let any of us know."

"I will."

Their goodbye was an awkward one, as Eddie said another brief welcome aboard, then turned to head back to the bridge to join the others.

He stopped halfway up the ramp, having thought of one last thing to say to Thalia. One last little hospitality that he'd never needed to give before, but deep down wanted to regardless.

But as he got to the door of the medbay, he saw her seated at the edge of her makeshift bed, head in her hands, body folded in on itself in exhaustion. He could practically feel it emanating from her in waves.

And instead of interrupting that moment of reprieve, he backed away and gave her some privacy.

Hyperspace - 10BBY

There used to be archaic old myths about "not letting a woman on your ship unless you wanted bad luck to follow." Back when inter-galactic travel was new and you were liable to blow your ship apart just by jumping to hyperspace.

Of course, it was all bantha poodoo. Stories made up by people looking to hate and discriminate. Still, those myths would float around, words whispered in cantinas or at spaceports or around a sabacc table, uttered by the absolute scum of the galaxy.

Eddie never believed in them. Ever. Never.

However, he had to admit that the thought did cross his mind after Thalia stepped aboard the Dragonborn.

Not because she was a woman.

Because she brought bad luck.

Bad luck for him.

Or perhaps he was a little bit bitter. But could you blame him? She was a pest. A menace.

Within the first day of her being aboard, it was clear that the rest of the crew, his friends, had taken a liking to her. Nay, a preference to her company over his.

Now, he knew his buddies were attention-seeking drydaks, but come on...he'd think that they at least would give some weight to their Captain's company over a pretty stranger.

They'd fallen over each other to offer their seats at the mess table at breakfast every morning and then listened raptly as she told stories or answered their questions about all the planets she'd been to.

As though they'd never left home before.

"Naboo is nice," she waved dismissively. "But it's Naboo. It's supposed to be nice. Mon Cala is alright, if you like water. Because it's basically all water. And Alderaan is...cold. Oh! But it has a lot of libraries, and they're all accessible to the public."

Eddie scoffed as he dragged his spoon through his breakfast, obnoxiously scraping the bottom of his bowl. Four heads and a metal dome all turned towards him curiously.

"You think these guys can read?" he asked, earning the ire of his friends.

Of course, breakfast wasn't the only time that he encountered her around the ship. It was a small ship. She was here and there, asking questions, basking in the attention his crew gave her.

She was everywhere, and he couldn't avoid her.

He figured that she'd stay out of his dreams, at least. Sleep might be his only reprieve.

But every night like clockwork, when everyone was asleep and D5-TN was monitoring controls, he was woken up by the sound of Thalia's footsteps.

Typically, he was soothed into a deep slumber by the roar of hyperspace soaring on the other side of the durasteel hull, but with Thalia on board, he'd become acutely aware of every little sound she made. Every cough, every murmur, every little movement.

She would tip-toe out of the medbay and down the corridor to the cargo hold. He listened curiously as the pneumatic doors hissed open and she walked around the container. Even though he wasn’t allowed to ask what was in the container, the boys had all taken turns questioning what was inside. To no avail, of course, but Thalia entertained their curiosity. It left Eddie to wonder if she thought one of them had tampered with it? Or did she have a deep-seated worry that whatever it was that was being smuggled wouldn't make it to Coruscant?

Regardless, it seemed that she needed the visual assurance that it was there.

A few times, he'd considered going down to confront her. Well, confront was a harsh word. But he could speak to her like the good captain he was. Assure her that nothing would happen, that the cargo was in good hands. That they'd get their payout and then they'd never have to see each other again.

Unless she had another job where he and his crew would get such a steep cut. Then he'd gladly see her as much as he could.

Before he could get a chance to kick the blankets off though, she would always make one more lap around the container and head back to the medbay. He figured that he should ask her about it come morning, but he never got a chance to approach her in private. Especially since he learned that Thalia liked to keep busy.

There was a frantic energy about her out in space, in great contrast to the calm that seemed to surround her when they'd been on Nar Shaddaa.  The only way she was able to expel it was to make herself useful.

Of course, she didn't ask anyone if she could help out around the ship. She gave herself permission, much to everyone's annoyance.

Or, once again, possibly just Eddie's.

She'd started by organizing the medbay and inventorying their supplies. Or, more accurately, criticizing their lack of supplies. She'd approached him on the bridge on her second day aboard with a list.

"What is this?" he asked as she shoved a datapad in front of his face.

"You're out of bacta," she explained, and tapped a finger against the screen. "How can you call it a medbay if you don't even have bacta?"

"We have kolto," he pointed.

"Kolto isn't as good."

"Kolto is cheap."

"You're smugglers," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Are we?" Eddie snorted and then passed the tablet back to her dismissively. "Hadn't noticed."

The guys all chuckled, but she simply ignored them and continued, "Cockiness isn't gonna heal you if you get shot by a bounty hunter."

"Bold of you to assume that I have a bounty on my head," he retorted. 

"Then when I shoot you," she snarled. Oh? Was he getting to her? Interesting.

“You don’t even have a blaster.”

“I’ll find one.”

Eddie simply dismissed her with a roll of his eyes and a "whatever you say" and she stormed off to go find her next project.

He should've just agreed to get the damn bacta.

It wasn't very noticeable at first. Some of the mud and dust that caked the surfaces down on the lower deck disappeared. At first, he thought G'areth had taken it upon himself to clean; he'd told his friend about Thalia's observation of how gunky the ship was and G'areth was the most vocal in his agreement.

"It's not that bad," Eddie said in disbelief.

"Eh, you're not the one who had to degrease Dusty's wheels," G'ar whined, with the aforementioned droid beep-booping to show his agreement and irritation.

However, neither G'areth nor D5-TN took responsibility for the newfound cleanliness.

Eddie found out soon enough that their guest was the one behind it, when he stepped out of the refresher–right after a shower, towel still around his waist–and found her inside one of the smuggling holds, hauling crates around.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "Where did those come from?"

"Organizing," she explained absentmindedly. She pried the top off one of the crates and then wrinkled her nose in distaste when she looked inside. "I think you need to toss this one. It stinks."

"It's supposed to stink," Eddie scoffed. "That's where I put our stash of markan herbs."

"Hmmm," she sealed the lid back on the crate and noticeably set it on the ground outside of the hold. "Rankweed."

"Oh come on! You don't smoke markan? Do you do any sort of spice? What are you, some kind of secret jedi? Not meant to partake in any sort of pleasurable substances."

"The jedi weren't–you know what?" She turned on her heel and looked up at him, then faltered over her words. "Where are your clothes, Eddie?"

"Back in my bunk." He thumbed over his shoulder. "I figured that you would appreciate it if I'd freshened up, given how much you like everything tidy. But there was a rat digging through my things and I got distracted before I could get dressed."

"Well..." Her eyes darted down and then back up at him, her mouth opened and shut, and he swore he saw the slightest flush on her cheeks. "M-maybe you should go get dressed now."

He shot her a mocking salute and headed to the bunkroom so he could do just that, glad that he got the upperhand on her for once.

He also realized that he liked seeing her flustered.

Expansion Region - 10BBY

"Standby, boys," Eddie said as he flipped switches and flipped levers. He checked the display monitors for any anomalies then announced, "Cut the sublight engines. Prepare to exit hyperspace.”

"Cutting sublight engines," G'areth announced.

They all took a moment to look out of the transparisteel window as the wash of hyperspace morphed into the brilliant starscape of the Rajtiri system.

Exiting hyperspace was always a wonder to witness; you never knew what breathtaking sight that existed in the galaxy that you'd wind up seeing.

Eddie hoped he and his friends would be able to see it all one day, Bendu-willing.

Today, though, they found themselves before a burning blue sun, a wash of nebulous gas, an arid planet full of spires and palaces, and finally, their destination.

"That doesn't look like Coruscant," came Thalia's voice from the entrance of the bridge, earning a mechanical snicker from D5-TN.

Well, maybe it wasn't their true destination, but it was a destination nonetheless.

"Busted," Jeff and G'areth muttered to each other in tandem and then made themselves busy as she passed.

Thalia stopped beside Eddie, folded her arms across her chest, and stared at him expectantly.

"Alright!" Eddie clapped and rubbed his hands together, pointedly ignoring her. "Another successful journey in the books, boys. Dayv, how're we looking at getting a hangar?"

"Uh," Dayv's eyes darted between his captain and their passenger, then pulled his headset off and cleared his throat. "We have clearance for Hangar 21."

"Wonderful, I can already taste the shaak roast sandwiches now." Eddie finally turned to Thalia, feigning surprise at her appearance. He thoroughly enjoyed how absolutely steamed she looked. "Ah, Miss Trieste. Didn't see you there."

"Didn't you?" she asked stiffly. "Where are we?"

"Oh," he began and he pressed a hand to his chest. "Does Star Tours not run direct flights to Rajtiri? Forgive me, I thought it might be familiar."

"And why are we here?"

"Was it not on the itinerary that I asked Jeff to send you? Jeffy, can you check to make sure your comms are working properly?"

"Eddie," Thalia practically stomped her foot, and Eddie grinned widely.

"It's just a pitstop, a quick excursion," he explained. "The trip to the Core is a long one; you should know that. We would've made the stop to refuel whether you were onboard or not."

"I expected a refueling depot," she said and then gestured to the window. "Not a whole space station."

Yes, orbiting the sandy planet was a massive space station, dish-shaped with various spacecraft zooming about it. Once pristine and white and proudly bearing the symbol of the Galactic Republic, it now sported various flags and banners of all the guilds and cartels that called the system home.

And inside the station was the largest marketplace for contraband that you could find in the galaxy.

"Have you ever been to Outpost 86 before?" Eddie asked Thalia.

"No," she muttered.

He turned back to the steering yoke and started the landing sequence.

"Then we're gonna have a great time."

Having a great time meant that they needed to get her off the ship first.

Eddie might've planned this little detour to irritate her, both because he was having fun getting her flustered and as payback for all the irritation she seemed to cause him over the past few days, but that didn't mean he wanted her to stay locked in the ship while the rest of them had a good time.

"Well, shouldn't someone stay back with the ship?" she asked nervously as G'areth, Dayv, and Jeff all walked down the boarding ramp without any hesitation.

"Dusty'll keep her safe," Eddie insisted. "I'm secretly convinced that he likes to stay behind so he can send secret encrypted messages to his girlfriend."

From somewhere inside the ship D5-TN whistled and honked about a super processor designated SU-S7 that he got periodic slicing updates from, and that she was not his girlfriend.

"He's just embarrassed," Eddie whispered loud enough for Thalia to hear, then returned to his normal volume. "Come on, it'll be safe. Look at me. Would I let anything happen to you?"

"You don't know the stories I've heard about you, Moonsun," Thalia tutted and crossed her arms over her chest. "Safe isn't the word I would describe."

Eddie, of course, chose to focus on one specific part of her statement.

"You've heard stories about me?" he asked, a little bashfully, then grinned. "Good stories? Bad stories? Did you talk to one of my exes? Did they tell you I was mean and scary?"

Thalia snorted and shook her head.

"Come on, you were brave enough to show up on Nar Shaddaa wearing your nice little Star Tours jacket."

"You act like I'm some innocent little flower, working for Star Tours."

"Oh," Eddie put a hand on his chest. "I know well enough by now that you're not innocent, sweetheart."

"I've seen some things," she continued and took a few steps down the boarding ramp, towards him.

"What sorts of things?"

A few more steps.

"You'd be surprised by some of the stories I have to tell."

"Well then you'll have to tell me sometime," he insisted as she took the last step off the boarding ramp, which hissed and shut behind her. "But for now, we have a whole space station to explore."

For a place that Eddie verbally described as a "wretched hive of scum and villainy," he felt more at home on Outpost 86 than he ever had on Bracca.

Actually, Bracca was only a hop, skip, and a jump-to-lightspeed away from the Outpost. Just a star system or two.

He and his friends could visit home if they really wanted to. He could visit Wane.

That was partly the reason this had become a favored pitstop for him and his friends over the years–the proximity to home, even though they never went back. And it was obvious how often they were here from the way certain vendors greeted him.

He could tell Thalia was trying very intently not to be impressed.

Which only spurred him to try and impress her even more.

The Outpost was loud and full of all sorts of sights and smells and beings from all parts of the galaxy, especially being situated along one of the busiest trade routes. There were endless pathways and flashing lights and constant chatter and laughter and music. There was an imperial presence in the Outpost, of course, in the form of a recruitment stand on one of the lower levels and a handful of troopers that walked around intimidatingly, but other than that, it was a free for all.

The first time he and his friends had stopped there, they'd gotten lost looking for their hangar for nearly a day. They almost gave up and debated pooling their credits to get a transport back home. Luckily, they'd stumbled into a familiar turbolift and made it back.

Eddie knew how easy it was to get overwhelmed, so he gently directed Thalia's attention past the distractions, like the holoprojectors advertising Jorgus Qweeno's newest drama on the Holonet, to things he thought she might like.

Little stalls with knick knacks that you could give to friends and family. Repulsorlift carts where vendors sold buttered grains and strangely-flavored slushes. And a smoke-filled cantina full of dejarik tables, where you might bet a few measly credits or your entire life-savings.

"I won my guitar here," he shared as they stood at the bar, waiting for drinks. He thought fondly of the day he won the mottled-red instrument. "This big twi'lek had it strapped to his back like a blaster rifle and I had to have it."

"You don't seem like the kind of guy who plays dejarik," Thalia stated matter-of-factly.

"Can I let you in on a little secret?" He leaned closer. So close, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. "I'm not. I almost lost my ship."

He pulled back and grimaced in embarrassment.

"The guys were, uh, not too happy about that."

"I'm sure they weren't," she laughed. "Recklessness must be in your blood."

"Reckless is my middle name, actually."

"Eddric Reckless Moonsun. That does have a bit of a ring to it."

"Eddie Reckless." He thought about it for a second as the bartender slid glasses full of bubbling liquid across to them. "Maybe if we ever get famous for our music I'll go by Eddie Reckless."

She hummed thoughtfully and glanced at him over the rim of her glass.

"And is that something you actually want?" She questioned. "To stop smuggling one day? Focus on music?"

"I..." It threw Eddie off for a moment, and he looked into his own glass as if he might find the answer there. "I mean...that was just a joke."

"All jokes are rooted in some truth."

"It would be nice. Steadier work, less of a chance for the Empire to throw us all in prison. Or get one of our heads blown off in a standoff with one of the cartels. I don't think any of us saw this as our future when we were younger."

"Tell me about it," Thalia muttered under her breath.

"You too, huh?" He took a sip of his drink. "You never did tell us how you got into this game. Or how you got into Star Tours in the first place."

"Star Tours? Easy. There are a million flyers pasted around, luring people in with the promise of seeing the galaxy." She waved a hand towards the entrance of the cantina. "I even saw a few out there."

He bit his tongue at her obvious deflection of his real question, but decided to simply play along. They were getting along so well, finally seeing eye-to-eye. Who was he to ruin it?

"Who is better at recruiting? Star Tours or the Empire?"

"Star Tours. Hands down."

"Do you get a dishonorable discharge if you want to quit too?"

"Worse, they just eject you out of the airlock."

As they continued on, she went on to tell him some of the more cautionary tales of her time traveling aboard the transport vessels, mainly the horror stories about the passengers that made her consider quitting.

“But I guess, if I wasn’t flying with Star Tours, I wouldn’t have ended up here,” she ended on a jar-half-full note.

On they went to the next level of the Outpost, and Eddie showed off one of his favorite places: the little sandwich stand that he had been dreaming about that truly led to this excursion in the first place.

If you could really call their featured dish a sandwich.

Thinly-sliced, spiced shaak roast with sweet onions and spicy peppers on a hearty, yeasty roll that was so saturated with rich gravy, it was easier to serve in a bowl than wrapped in waxed paper.

If Eddie could, he'd eat this for every meal for the rest of his life.

"They have these crispy herbed topatoes sometimes too," he told Thalia as he handed a bowl off to her from the little hatch where the food was served. "Not today it seems, but I highly recommend them."

"Guess we'll just have to come back," she suggested.

"We'll have to come back, huh?" he asked. “You planning on joining my crew?”

"Shush."

He watched with bated breath as she took her first bite, ignoring his own food in favor of sharing this experience with someone new.

It was interesting, watching the little movements and changes of her expression as she chewed. He could practically hear her thoughts, feel her emotions change, as she considered the sandwich. The wayward curl that fell into her eyes as she ducked her head to take a second bite, the little scrunch of her nose, the sparkle in her eyes as the flavors bloomed on her tongue, the way said tongue peeked out to lick away some gravy that lingered on her lips.

Her lips. Yeah, he remembered looking at those back at the Surly Sarlacc...turns out she still had them...he wondered what they might taste like.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to get the intrusive, inappropriate thought out of his head as it suddenly appeared, and he asked, "Verdict?"

She tilted her head back and forth in contemplation before she nodded and speared another bite on her fork.

"It's delightful," she announced. Eddie whooped in approval and then took his own first bite, letting the food warm his soul the way it always did. "You know, I used to work at this diner on Coruscant...before Star Tours...and the chef had a dish sort of like this. But with nerfsteak and cheese."

The way she voluntarily shared that with him warmed his soul too.

"Which one was better?"

"Definitely this one," she said sheepishly. "Don't tell Dex."

"My lips are sealed."

Things had been going great; the whole day had been damn near perfect.

So of course, everything had to take a turn.

After a quick commlink from Jeff, they headed back towards the turbolift down to the hangars. He'd been in the middle of telling a story about a recent job with the Guavians, and was so focused on trying to explain how they'd almost double crossed him, that he didn't notice that Thalia wasn't beside him. When he cracked a joke and got no reaction, he stopped in his tracks and found her standing in front of one of the massive screens cycling through Holonet News feeds.

For the Holonet to have been something that the crew of the Dragonborn had watched obsessively as boys, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a full broadcast. Last he knew, though, the whole program had been tainted by propaganda for the Empire. Even his favorite news anchors, who'd once relayed stories of the Republic's victories during the Clone Wars, happily peddled imperial garbage.

He didn't think that Thalia would be interested in that kind of news, having been vocally critical of their government.

But as he got closer, he too was frozen in shock by the headline.

"...the capture and interrogation of the fugitive Jedi Master Cere Junda on Eriadu after an unexpected attack on an Imperial Weapons depot," the anchor announced stoically. "Junda was last sighted..."

"It's crazy," Eddie said over the broadcast. Thalia turned her head slightly in his direction, but her eyes remained locked on the screen as the aforementioned fugitive's picture was displayed. "The Jedi...being..."

He didn't know where he was going with that statement. The Jedi being what, exactly? Being captured and killed. Being hunted down. He might've joked with Thalia about the Jedi...but his own opinions on them had shifted at some point since the rise of the Empire. From hero worship to...indifference, to put it lightly.

"The Jedi betraying the Republic," he finally decided. "The Chancellor...Emperor...whoever the hell he is."

The broadcast changed to an array of wanted posters featuring the entirety of the Jedi Council and high-ranking Masters, some faces obscured with the notation of CAPTURED and KILLED. Cere Junda's face was the latest to be covered by bold, red aurebesh.

"What do you think?" he asked Thalia.

"What do I think of what?" she questioned in return.

"Of the Jedi," he shrugged. "They were heroes...and now they're...villains."

She turned to him abruptly, a fire burning in her eyes. He was shocked, even felt his throat tighten at the unexpected sight.

He felt the urge to backtrack, to apologize. She had lived on Coruscant, presumably when the Jedi Order had fallen; that must've affected her more than it had affected him, just a dumb kid living half a galaxy away.

But then the fire in her eyes disappeared. Everything about her seemed to be extinguished as she sighed and her shoulders drooped. She ducked her head and gripped the straps of her pack tightly.

"I think villains is a harsh word," she said in almost an exhausted tone. "Let's head back to the ship, alright?"

She tried pushing past him to continue on to the turbolift, but he grabbed her arm, intending to apologize. To explain himself.

Things, unfortunately, had to get worse.

"Hey, what's going on over here?" came a loud, filtered voice a few yards away.

Eddie groaned and Thalia cursed under her breath as two troopers on their show-of-force bantha dung patrol around the Outpost approached them.

"You two, what's the trouble?" One of the troopers demanded.

"No trouble, officer," Eddie tried to put on the most innocent grin. "Just a little disagreement."

"Civilian misconduct isn't tolerated on Outpost 86," the other interjected.

"Have you looked around lately? The whole purpose of this station is civilian misconduct."

"We're gonna need to see some identification," the first trooper demanded.

"Come on, it's just a little lovers quarrel." Eddie glanced over at Thalia to gauge her reaction, and sent her an apologetic look when the skepticism planted itself firmly on her face. "My, uh, wife here wants to head back to our ship but I was going to surprise her with dinner at Nem'ro's Palace. She loves Hutt cuisine."

The two troopers simply stood there, unconvinced.

"The White Worm Stew," he continued through gritted teeth and his eyes went wide as he silently begged her to play along. "Your favorite."

It took a beat, and she bared her teeth and scrunched her nose at him, but finally responded, "I'm glad you remembered my favorite dinner. Especially when you forgot our anniversary."

Eddie was quick to reply, "Well, honey, I do apologize for that. But time has gone by so quickly; to me, it feels like we only met a week ago."

Thank Bendu, the troopers seemed to have some kind of romantic bone somewhere beneath their pristine white armor, because their stiff postures relaxed at that.

"That's so sweet." One of them placed a hand on his chest. "I have a sweetheart like that back home, too. Feels like we just met yesterday. I miss them so much."

"Yeah," the other agreed. "What I wouldn't do to give my wife another kiss..."

Eddie, then, had the best idea.

One that Thalia seemed to sense immediately, because she shot him with a murderous gaze. He could practically hear her voice echoing don't you dare in his mind.

But there was one thing you had to know about Eddie Moonsun: when he got an idea in his head, it would take an entire herd of Banthas to get him to change his mind.

In the blink of an eye, his hands were on Thalia's face, gently cupping her jaw, as he pressed his lips to hers.

And the world stopped.

Truly, it felt like everything went silent. All of the commotion and noise of the Outpost, the continued broadcast of the Holonet, the chatter of the stormtroopers...they were all gone. It was just the two of them.

Actually, to Eddie, there was just Thalia. He felt the softness of her skin, the tickle of her blue curls against his fingertips, and the way she melted into his touch. She smelled of the generic soap they had back in the turboshower on the Dragonborn, but there was a sweet, resinous undertone as well. And as his tongue ventured out to trace along the seam of her lips, he tasted the lingering flavor of their shaak roast sandwiches and something distinctly human.

If he really focused, really let his consciousness fall into hers, he could see...starlight. Both delicate and immensely powerful.

Of course, shortly after that, he felt her fist jab him in the gut. He backed away with a grunt, shocked, and stared at her. Both of them panted to catch their breaths.

"They're gone," she bit out after a moment, blush growing on her cheeks. "You...you didn't need to do that."

"Come on," Eddie whined and held his arms out innocently. "It was a great idea. Got them to leave us alone."

"Sure," she nodded. "Great. Thanks for that, then. Good job thinking on your feet, captain."

She turned on her heel and continued to head back to the ship, with Eddie following close behind.

He wasn't entirely sure how to make it all better as they filtered through the throngs of travelers and outlaws visiting Outpost 86 and into the crowded turbolift to head down to the hangar level.

So he did what he did best or, at least, what he thought he did best. He talked.

"You know what?" He leaned in close to her again, lips close to her ear. "When I was younger, I always wished that the Jedi might come and rescue me from my boring life. Take me to join the Order."

"Are you kidding me?" she screeched, head whipping to the side to stare at him in disbelief. As a few others in the lift turned to see what the commotion was, she realized how loud she was and lowered her voice. "What are you talking about? Where did this come from?"

"Well, you got angry when I called them villains before." He shrugged. "I thought I would let you know...that I don't think they were. Are. I just...have some complex feelings, alright?"

"So do I. But I thought we were done talking about this."

"Yeah, well..." Eddie shook his head. "You're upset with me again, so I thought I could try and make it better."

"You..." She fumbled over her words helplessly, and she opened and shut her mouth multiple times as she tried to find the right thing to say. "I...I'm not upset. I'm flustered. I like being in control of the situations I'm in and I'm entirely out of my depth. I was not expecting to come here, I was not expecting to have a good time, I was not expecting...you to kiss me."

There was a tense silence.

"I mean, I'm a pretty good kisser." Thalia stomped on Eddie's foot. "Ow! And you are too."

"It's not because you kissed me," she hissed. "It's because you kissed me. It caught me off guard. I’d like to know first, next time."

Next time?

He waited a beat before saying, “So I am a good kisser then.”

She cursed him under her breath and rolled her eyes.

The lift door hissed open and everyone filed out and towards their respective hangars to return to their ships as the two of them continued their back and forth.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you. And no, I probably shouldn't have done it, but I wanted those troopers out of our hair and that was the easiest way."

"I get it Eddie. I really do."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing."

"I'm sorry."

"Now you're just being a sarcastic sleemo."

"Yeah." Eddie shot her a shit-eating grin. "Yeah, I am."

Thalia grabbed his shoulder and shoved him as hard as she could.

Eddie jogged away from her, ready to avoid her playful wrath, but skidded to a halt once the Dragonborn was in sight.

Because Dayv, Jeff, and G'areth stood in front...along with a group of figures all dressed in red, carrying blaster rifles.

"I’ve got a bad feeling about this," he muttered, then grabbed Thalia by the arm just as she was about to pass him.

"Hey, so," he began, "remember when I was telling you about that job we did with the Guavians?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "You never got to finish."

"That's because we might be living the end of that job right now. Stay behind me. Don't draw attention to yourself. If you can get into the ship...you might want to jump into the gunner's seat."

"Why?"

"Because if we need backup, you don't have a blaster." He patted the holster on his own thigh to emphasize her lack of a weapon. "And the laser cannons will do in a pinch."

He steeled himself, fluffing his hair a bit and pulled his shoulders back before confidently striding forward with his arms held out to his sides.

"Nosaj! Buddy! How are you?" He greeted jovially. "Long time, no see."

The Guavian's leader--a Zabrak male--was a cocky little shit who believed he was some great outlaw but was really just an intergalactic bully. He brought around a whole crew of foot-soldiers and a rotating girlfriend that hung off his arm.

And he was a real hot head.

"It has been a long time," Nosaj chuckled dryly. "See, you blasted off into hyperspace before you could pay us our cut after we helped you haul those artifacts from Moraband."

Thalia grabbed the back of Eddie's jacket and hissed into his ear.

"Moraband? What were you doing on Moraband?"

He ignored her and kept talking.

"It was just a little miscommunication," he explained. "In fact, we've been holding onto your credits for you for a while."

"Then we'll be taking our pay, Moonsun," Nosaj snapped at him and then glanced over at Thalia. "Or maybe another kind of payment? New girlfriend?"

"Associate," Thalia snapped right back before Eddie could.

"Ah, prepare to be backstabbed then."

"I'll take my chance," she said through gritted teeth and then looked at Eddie. "I'm gonna head inside."

"Ah, ah, ah," Nosaj drew his blaster to point at them. "Not so fast, honey. You might as well get a taste of the type of man you're dealing with."

"Handsome," Eddie puffed. "Charismatic."

"Moofmilker," G'areth said under his breath, earning a withering stare from his friend. "What? It's true."

"Let's go, Moonsun!" Nosaj snapped. "I don't have all day."

Eddie cursed under his breath. He unclipped his comlink from his belt and pressed a few buttons, then spoke. "Hey Dusty, do you copy?"

Muffled binary transmitted through in response.

"Our friends, the Guavians, are here to get their payment from the job we did for Senator Linek. Can you bring it out for them?"

Another few beeps rang out, and then the commlink went silent.

They all stood around as clunks and thunks could be heard from inside of the ship, as well as aggressive whistling and honking.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, D5-TN rolled down the boarding ramp with a small crate dragged behind him by a tow cable.

Eddie tapped his foot impatiently as the droid took his sweet time; he wondered if Dusty had been chatting with his girlfriend when Eddie had chimed in. They'd have to have a talk about those long-distance calls.

D5-TN dragged the crate right before the Nosaj, then retracted his tow cable and retreated with an obnoxious, derogatory honk about mouthbreathers that got a good chuckle out of Jeff and Dayv.

Now, Eddie wasn't in the business of swindling people, not Death Gangs at least. But in the business of smugglers and outlaws, you had to send a message.

So, although all the credits he owed the Guavians were in that little crate, there was also...another surprise.

He just wasn't expecting Nosaj to open the crate before they were able to get away.

Today really wasn't Eddie's lucky day.

The blast wasn't large, not really. The explosives that had been rigged were only meant to shock and maybe injure. Maim, not kill. They were only fireworks, to be honest. Killing really wasn't in the nature of the crew of the Dragonborn.

But the shock of the blast caused a chain reaction.

It was chaos.

A flurry of blaster fire, ricocheting off the hull of the Dragonborn, as well as nearby ships. Shouts and screams echoed throughout the hangar. Jeff was hit in the leg by a stray blaster bolt as he tried to head up the boarding ramp. Dayv, a gunslinger and the best shot of all of them, was quick to take out the few Guavians closest to him as he retreated. G'areth simply hauled D5-TN bodily and dragged him into the ship, using the small droid as a shield even if he was trying to get them both to safety.

Eddie took a few shots himself as he pulled Thalia towards the ship; he ducked and tried to cover both of them once they got to the ramp.

"Go!" he shouted, but she tugged his arm as the blaster fire got heavier. He lowered his blaster just so he could turn and scold her. "Go!"

And that was Nosaj's chance to fire a blaster bolt right at Eddie.

One that would have hit him in the chest.

One that would have killed him.

That's when time slowed. 

Eddie watched as the bolt of crackling energy got closer and closer. A few yards away, then a few feet, then within arm's length. Then it finally froze.

It was one of those life-flashes-before-your-eyes moments.

Until he realized that it wasn't his inevitable death that was keeping the blaster bolt from hitting him. It was the hand outstretched beside his face.

Eddie, stunned, stared at the hand, then dragged his gaze up the arm, until he could look right into Thalia’s eyes. Thalia, who shook as she concentrated on the effort to hold the bolt back.

As she shook with the effort it took to use the Force.

Next Chapter: Episode 4 - Order 66

The Tag List for Luminous Beings is currently open; please comment/ask/DM to be added.

[pannman]

Other Motives

Part 3

Yandere Vox x ftm delivery driver reader

Tw: toxic relationships, toxic behavior, forced relationship, power dynamic, invasion of privacy, controlling behavior, depictions of a car accident, needles, description of injuries

Things took a 180 ever since you sold your soul to Vox. He insisted on spending every spare second with you. But you no longer felt the sway of his hypnosis and no longer wanted to be around him. You did move into one of the employee apartments. And he was free to pop in as often as he felt.

There was even a camera in your living room. You expressed to Vox that made you uncomfortable but he told you it was "for your protection". You didn't believe a word of it. It was obviously so he could watch you. Over time more cameras were installed in your apartment making the only truly private place your bathroom. You were grateful for that. You even changed into your pajamas in there. You used to change in your bedroom. Whenever you went out on deliveries Vox would call you and his face would pop up on the screen in the car. One specific day he called to remind you of your dinner plans...

"Remember baby, 7 sharp at the harvest garden." He said. You tried not to cringe at the pet name and the way he said it. He noticed the lack of immediate response. "Are you sure we shouldn't just ride together? You'd think with all the driving you do, you'd kill for a break" he spoke as if you were a long time couple. You were absolutely sure you wanted some time to yourself. Driving was really the only independence you had left. You relied on Vox for practically everything. You wanted to hold on to the only sense self you had and you feared he'd take that away too. But you were relieved he seemed to respect at least SOME of your boundaries. For now anyway.

You finished your deliveries and returned to your apartment to find a polished black suit waiting for you to wear to your "date" with Vox. And after you went to the bathroom to try it on you tried not to think about how it fit so well it seemed... tailored. You got ready and tried to get yourself in the mindset. He owned your soul. There was nothing you could do to change that. It's best to comply so he doesn't make you miserable. Although you kind of already were miserable.

More miserable. You thought. You could very well be more miserable than you are now. Don't upset him. It won't do any good.

You hopped in your car. You put the coordinates into the VPS. And you drove out. You knew if you were a minute late it would not go over well but you couldn't help but drive slower trying to procrastinate being forced to have dinner with him. You noticed the clock and decided to speed up.

What you didn't notice was a drunk driver running a stop light. In seconds which felt like hours, like slow motion, you turned your head to see it barreling towards you, you attempted speed up to avoid being side smacked, you felt the impact and a wave of whiplash before blacking out

You awoke to a slightly familiar voice. You couldn't pin point where you heard it from. "You're Voxs little boy toy right?" The tall stranger in pink and drag was assessing your injuries. "Angel Dust?" You said head kind of fuzzy. "What are you doing here?" You mumbled. "Working" was all he said. Before he helped you out of your now totalled car.

You limped on out, using the spider as a crutch before he sat you down on the curb. You looked on to see the vehicle in shambles. You doubted Vox would replace it. In fact, you doubted Vox would ever let you get behind the wheel again after this. This. This was just the excuse he needed. You started to cry.

"Does it hurt? Hang in there ok." He had no idea what to do. Angel seemed almost uncomfortable at how to console you. You could understand that.

"He's never gonna let me do anything on my own ever again!" You sobbed. Angel gave a look of surprise. "You mean Vox?" You didn't get a chance to answer before the man himself showed up and budded in immediately.

"I'll take it from here Angel. Really appreciate you looking after him" Vox straightened his tie and gave Angel a serious look which was his hint to leave. Angel gave you an apologetic look but clearly wasn't ready to challenge Vox. So he simply wished you well and went away

Next thing you knew you were in the back of a car being checked for your injuries on your way to the studio to be treated. There were no hospitals in the sinner part of hell but there were medical professionals (for the right price). While in the car Vox discussed what was next.

"You really scared me." He said almost scolding you. "I don't know what I would've done if anything happened to you." Something did sort of happen to you but you were to tired too object at the moment. "I think I figured out a solution. You won't have to make deliveries anymore. You won't struggle with anything ever again. I'll pay for your testosterone, your surgeries, all of it."

You dreaded to hear what he had in mind. What could he possibly want from you that he did not already have? You got your answer and you did not like it.

"You'll come live with me. It will be just the two of us. You will never have to worry about anything." You jumped in panic and the nurse looking you over tried to calm you. You felt a rush of adrenaline suddenly kick in and your heart began to race. You couldn't communicate or form coherent thoughts as you tried to speak but it came out sounding delirious. You felt a sharp pain in your leg and looked down drowsily to see the needle before everything went dark again

You woke up in a bed... in someone else's room. Someone else's apartment. You were sure you knew whose it was. Vox sat at the edge of the bed perking up when he noticed you were awake

"How are you feeling?" He asked caressing your face. You tried to pull away but didn't have the energy to move an inch. You were too sore. "Vox?" you spoke up. "Yes" he leaned in at the sound of your voice. "Can I please just live on my own? I... I want to be independent" you thought maybe that since you were in such a state he would take pity on you. But you were wrong

"No. You're going to stay with me. I'm done with your rebellious behavior" he said coldly. This was a side of him you hadn't seen before. But then again you'd always done exactly what he wanted. Rebellious? You thought. I've been doing everything he asks.

"What are you talking about?" You questioned him confusion clear in your voice. "I didn't expect that once I owned your soul that I would no longer be able to hypnotize you. I wouldn't have taken it had I known. You were so good for me then. I would never have set you up. I would have found another way."

Set me up? You thought. Wait a minute! Your landlord.... "You did that?!?! I lost my apartment! You did that so I would... I hate you!" It was finally out. You finally lost your temper with him. He thought your behavior before was "rebellious" well you were gonna show him rebellious.

"Hate me?" He chuckled darkly "You have no idea how much you could hate me. But if I can't hypnotize you any more there's another way I could make you behave the way I want. You may hate me first but you will love me. I have an eternity to wait. Now I'll see you again soon my love... until then I would stay in bed. You wouldn't want to further injure that leg of yours" and that was the moment you noticed you couldn't feel your right leg. And you felt horribly alone as he left you to your own devices. This. This was the beginning of something truly awful

Keep an eye out for part 4

[thequeenoffishburrito]

Sonic 3 is coming out in 3 days, I'd like to share a lil theory of mine:

Eggman is going to die by at the end of sonic 3

HEAR ME OUT

1: Jim Carrey cannot be replaced as Eggman, it's literally impossible. And while Jim Carrey might be coming back for Sonic 3 this isn't a forever guarantee. Hes going to have to retire at some point for good, so might as well nip it in the bud now and kill him off.

2: Eggman had an off screen disappearance at the end of Sonic 2 anyways, likely because of Jim Carrey's retirement annoucment, likely because it wasn't guaranteed that he'd come back for the 3rd film. HOWEVER they CANNOT pull that shit at the end of Sonic 3. Sonic 3 is gearing up to be the best film yet and pulling that bit again is just so cliche. And if Jim Carrey doesn't want to (or litterally can't) come back for sonic 4 they're better off getting rid of him now in "le most epic film out of the 3" instead of pulling another "where did eggman go???" only to show his funeral at the start of Sonic 4.

3: Look at Agent Stone!!! He's a completely movie original character in the sonic cinematic universe, and he was clearly created with 1 purpose: to take the role of Eggman once Jim Carrey retires - or in this case, once Eggman dies. - Agent Stone is completely loyal, obsessed (and very clearly in love) with Eggman, and would do anything for him and will very likely be willing to hunt down the animals that were the reason his unrequited crush died. So why not do with sonic 3? Kill eggman off in the best movie yet and kick off Agent Stone as the main villian starting from sonic 4???

I know I'm rambling but like do you guys see where I'm coming from??? I know Sega wants to keep making sonic movies but when you cast a man who's ready to retire and cant be replaced you gotta make some strategic decisions. The only way I can see "Eggman" coming back to the sonic movie franchise is once they introduce Silver, and pull an alternative reality eggman played by a different actor (but the dude has to die first ofc)

Edit:I meant to say 9 days, the sonic movie is coming out in 9 days, to clarify I am not from the future but I am keeping that cuz its funny