His weight over Steve’s hips shifts, and then he’s pressing his forehead against Steve’s.
Something about it, how Eddie just holds himself there, nose brushing against Steve’s and breathing against his lips, makes Steve go absolutely still. The well of tenderness in his chest is downright embarrassing, and he worries that if he moves at all, it’ll spill everywhere and ruin this surprisingly tender moment.
guys. @sparklyslug gave me the best birthday gift ever (and I have a million doodles I want to do for it :))). My love of Star Wars (the dinluke of it all) and steddie have been combined into a single fic and I am absolutely floored. it made my day, year, entire life. I will cherish this FOREVER AND EVER 🧡
It’s called make those hidden worlds mine .✨ give it a read (whether you like star wars or not) you wont be disappointed 🥰
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LU Star Wars AU: Part 2
feeling very validated by the fact that people like this SO LETS CONTINUE
Next up, Four and Wind!
PART 1
Four
A droidsmith and technician by trade, he and his grandfather run a shop dedicated to repairing ships. However, Four is also skilled enough to make his own technology out of parts when he sets his mind to it, and as a result he has expanded his skill set to making and repairing droids, and he's even learned how to forge and repair most kinds of weapons.
When Four was young, he met an older man named Ezlo and learned how to make droids in the brief time Four knew him. Four has made hundreds of tiny miniature droids in the years since, and is very fond of all of them. (Four named his first one EZ-10.) Ezlo also taught Four how to meditate and attune himself to his surroundings, but it wasn't until much later that Four learned that these were actually basic Jedi training techniques— and with that, the fact that Ezlo may have been a Jedi, and that Four himself had the ability to use the Force.
Four has no interest in having a lightsaber, and claims he has better weapons of his own suited to him. Vaati showed up shortly after Ezlo, and he causes problems for him and his grandfather. Four was also friends with Shadow until his death at Vaati’s hands.
Wind
Wind is young, but like Legend he has spent much of his life traveling across the galaxy, and he feels most at home in his small spaceship, the King of Red Lions.
Wind originally got his start as a crewmember of the famous intergalactic pirate Tetra of the Outer Rim territories as a way to rescue his sister Aryll after she was wrongly arrested by the Empire. He then later traveled on Linebeck's ship not long after parting ways with Tetra. Wind found** the Red Lion during his adventures, and has been traveling the galaxy with it since. He's still close friends with Tetra.
Wind is very in tune with the Force, especially spirits, and better learned how to use his abilities when he was traveling with Linebeck. He doesn’t have a saber, but he still has a weapon or two of his own and plenty of tricks up his sleeves.
**(stole it from spice traders)
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What if Eclipse from AP was a naga? And this took place in the deep jungle of the amazon, where photographer y/n is trying to take pictures of the wildlife?
I'm vibrating at the speed of sound over this ask while also nudging my naga au
Naga Eclipse from AP would have the tail of a Green Anaconda, with an olive green scaly color dotted with black, framed by burning-like flares of orange along the length of his slithery body. He's also decorated with orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, slipper form. His upper half is scaley with a lithe deadliness to his musculature and decorated by frills surrounding his head with brighter orange-yellow colors, almost hypnotic in their gradient hues. One eye is deep emerald green, and one is midnight blue.
Lucky you—you're out on a once-in-a-lifetime expedition to explore a jungle closed off to the public, funded by Fazco, and occupied by two researchers who will be your bunkmates for the next few weeks. You're itching to take photos of the large river, including swamps, marshes and streams, and whatever wildlife is out there.
The few locals you did meet before you left to hike the rest of the way to what would be your new, isolated home warned you of a dangerous snake—a large, mythical beast. You take note of the local folklore. You understand the truth is hidden in there somewhere, and you are well aware of the dangers and diseases you could be met with in such a harsh environment, but you're determined.
It doesn't take long for you to feel eyes watching you when you first venture out by yourself. You take beautiful pictures of freshwater fish, big and beautiful, unlike any you have ever seen. Of course, you have hundreds of snapshots of the local flora, the trees, the floating meadows, the thick vines that drape each branch and hang thickly about the ground. You almost forget that you eerily don't feel alone.
But you swear something moves in the water—the ripples stop as soon as you look. The stillness is suddenly stiff, lifeless. Even the birds have stopped chirping.
You lower your camera and carefully put it away. A trickle of fear slips into your heart. You turn away from the river's edge only to be met by a low hiss and a creature, unlike anything you witnessed in your travels, spooling itself neatly out of the water, blocking your path to the base. An incredible creature with long arms and a great, serpentine tail that seems to stretch for yards and yards. You can hardly breathe in his presence—he's otherworldly with his frills and scales and fangs.
His eyes contain a mesmerizing shine as if staring into a fire as it burns or watching the ocean as it laps up against the beach, drawing your attention, demanding you don't look away. You couldn't anyway. Half-frozen, you struggle to keep from collapsing. He beckons with a sharp talon. He hisses softly for you to come closer, mouse. He wants to see you. You try to beg no without revealing how terribly you tremble. He doesn't let you go. He insists. His eyes flash with an allure. You almost step close when he murmurs that you need to be good.
But then your sense of survival kicks adrenaline into your heart, and you turn to run—
He strikes faster than your eyes can follow. Two loops of his green and orange tail surrounded you in an instant. You're dragged to the ground, your arms pinned under his mass, and the back of your head cradled by his large palm as powerful muscles squeeze you in the slightest—a gentle rebuke for thinking you could get away. You're hyper-aware of the terrifying bulk of muscles as you lie trapped in his coils. One strong twist and your eyes could pop out of your skull, and every bone protecting your heart and lungs would crumble to shards. You gasp. An urge to kick your legs and struggle erupts in your panic; a sinking feeling tells you it would only make things worse.
He coos over you, hissing and humming in an ancient song of the jungle you have no name for. When you whimper, he shushes you and strokes your cheek. He tells you how lovely you'll be. When you talk back to him, somehow finding your tongue amid your horror, you find out his name. Eclipse. He moves you more upright, resting you on his tail so you're not petrified by how vulnerable you feel lying down, but he never loosens his scaly bindings. He hovers over you. You gaze into his stunning frills of yellow-orange and wonder how a being like him came to exist. He studies you as you study him. He grins at how you shiver when he traces your collarbone with a sharp fingertip.
You remind yourself that you can still breathe. He hasn't crushed you—yet—but you don't like how wide his smile is. Sometimes, his jaw stretches a little too long as if dislocating from his skull, ready to devour you. His eyes gleam with a ravenousness as scales twist around you, holding you close enough to smell the slick green water he had been in and deep musk.
He tells you that he'll see you again very soon—away from other humans, lest you bring him a fine gift for a meal. You can only flex your fingers, silently pleading in your heart that he won't unhook his jaw and eat you alive.
Then, he unravels himself from your limbs. But before he lets you go entirely, he leans in close, his serpentine tongue flickering close to your neck and by your hair, tasting the air around you as you muster all your strength to not scream. He inhales deeply, pleased, before he murmurs, "Sweet mouse. You are mine. Say it."
You don't understand, but you echo his command, and when he taps your chin once in what might have been a loving gesture, you force your jelly legs to solidify before you run and run, all the way back to base. You slam the door to your room behind you. You touch your ribs, your arms, still caught in the heavy sensation of his loops as if he were upon you right now.
The stories are true—there is a giant snake in this jungle, and he wants you. You're afraid to discover if Eclipse's intrigue with you is only an exotic way to satisfy his hunger.
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