"darling," he whispers, ever so softly, the rasp in his voice reverberating through you and making you shiver. he chuckles silently at the little squeaks that leave your lips whenever your hips slam down on his cock as you look down at him with those pretty eyes of yours. for some reason, whenever he looks into them, they remind him of the stars he was so close to once upon a time. something that should be a bad memory but really isn't because you make it more nostalgic, in some kind of mysterious way. you almost make him miss it.
your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin in a way that should be painful, but instead just makes everything feel ten times better. he has a hand on your hip, gripping it firmly, his fingers forming slight dents in your skin. his free hand is wandering over your body, moving up from your clit to your tits, pinching your sensitive buds. he swears he's falling even more in love with you when you toss your head back and let out a long whine of pleasure when he does so. you look so beautiful.
how are you even real? he wonders. he's never had eyes for anyone the way he has eyes for you. he's seen and experienced so many beautiful things, explored so many different worlds in his dreams, in his past lives, but none of them compare to you. anything in any universe that is considered beautiful is nothing when it comes to you.
the way you moan his name is like the strings that play in his mind when he's feeling the rush of his highs, but somehow you're always able to make them sound like a beautiful symphony instead of just a jumble of noise like it used to be, before you. he wonders what type of magic you hold inside of you that makes you capable of making even the ugliest and most broken of things look so beautiful. he notices your legs are giving up on you and smiles at how endearing it is, the fact that you're practically struggling, but you need him so badly you're doing everything you can to keep up your movements. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost enough to bruise your skin, and he moves his free hand to your lower back to help you keep your balance.
he wonders, for a moment, if he knew you in the past life, or all those years ago. he can't really remember since it's been so long, and the memories of when he was cast out of heaven clouded his brain. but it's almost as if he can see for a brief second, something otherworldly when he looks at you, the way your skin glows with splendor when your back arches as you cum on his cock. for a moment it's like you're a real life angel right in front of him, it's such a sight to behold. was god testing him? were you sent to him as a lesson in disguise? would you be gone as soon as this was all over? whatever it was, he didn't care, as long as he got to feel you as close as possible even if you turned out to not be real when he opened his eyes again.
it's almost a relief when he does and he sees you there, still on top of him, panting heavily, eyes hooded, hair sticking to your face. a beautiful mess. the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he's so in love with you. he reaches up to brush your hair off of your damp cheeks, smiling and delicately taking your chin to make you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, the way you lean down to kiss him and smile against his lips making everything feel a little more real.
more real and alive, he thinks. he's never felt more alive than when he sees you like this—beautiful and wild and messy in all the right ways, all for him, because of him. there was nothing better than being able to love you in such a pure way, without repercussion, no matter how terrifying it was, because you remind him of himself before everything. before the jealousy and fury, before he fell from heaven and got his wings stripped from his back, before he was disowned by god himself. the fallen angel was redeemed from the depths of hell and found his heaven in your embrace, in your eyes, in you. you're everything he's ever wanted.
Obsessed with the fact that Sir Ian McKellen showed both Sean Astin and Martin Freeman explicit fanfiction and fanart respectively of their characters while filming lord of the rings and the hobbit. Absolute king shit. Love that he just did that.
Reminder of a Starline themed BumbleKast Q&A where Ian Flynn as Starline talks about what he would have done with Sonic and Tails bodies after the events of Issue 50: [ Tw! Child Death + Taxidermy ]
Starline is such a genuinely terrifying character (who I miss everyday ahh) and his disregard for children and his willingness to mentally and physically manipulate them for his own evil purposes (especially in the context of this answer) is genuinely chilling. It’s something I think even Eggman would be semi disturbed by which is saying a lot.
The idea of him using Sonic and Tails preserved bodies as trophies and as an example to others is so insanely horrifying, and the “well then I’ll just have to start a gallery won’t I!” in response to the idea of other hero’s trying to rise up against him somehow finds a way to make it extra disturbing. The mental image of Amy, Knuckles and all their other friends seeing what Starline has done to the brothers… to their family 💔
The thought of Surge and Kit having a constant physical reminder of what they’ve done… that while Sonic and Tails may be out the way, the two unwilling doppelgangers will forever be in their shadow, unable to truly fill the roles they were forced into and the bond the brothers had. Them getting everything they thought they wanted, yet still feeling empty inside.
Long story short: Ian Flynn did not need to go this crazy with this answer but gosh am I glad he did.