#Control the rage Sonic!

[kittydoremi]

Picking out more songs for my Cursed Sonic (Sonic and The Cursed Bracelet) au playlist, and realizing a lot of the night music from Unleashed fits Night Giant Sonic. Probably bc the au takes inspiration from the sonic the werehog lol.

Things may or may not get dangerous later in the fic... 😬

[glitchfang]

despite everything i still love sonic gens. they put in the mephiles chao doing mephiles gay little arm waves during the chicken and the egg scene in the hub world just for me

[shadow-von-vamp]

i think i really hurt my finger getting mad at this level 😭

[chisungie]

.

[candiezmanzion]

metal/neo metal sonic ramble

never not thinking about how robots in idw have text like this

but neo metal sonic has the same text as all the organic characters

he also expresses clear emotion just like an organic person would, if not with a bit more robotic logic behind it [save when hes in a blind rage]

HE EVEN EVILLY LAUGHS AT ONE POINT

neo metal is proof that metal is VERY MUCH CAPABLE OF EMOTIONS LIKE ANY ORGANIC [if it wasnt already obvious when he's just metal] i think its sooo crazy that IDW shows metal is the most 'human' out of all the eggman robots yet he's arguably treated the worst, not even being able to Speak in his standard form.

ik sonic is just being his usual dick self here but he kinda has a point in a way. metal almost definitely WANTS to be able to talk and express himself. but he's reduced to his lesser, albeit still very powerful, form.

oh and don't even get me started...

it's so sad to me how even though he's still very capable of emotion, eggman has literally programmed out any hint of rebelliousness. like sure, it's most likely that even if eggman HADN'T programmed out metal's rebellious streak, he'd still be evil, but this leaves not even a CHANCE for redemption on metal's part.

which makes it even more ironic that sonic says this...

sonic fails to comprehend that metal literally CANNOT become a better person. eggman literally repeats what neo already told sonic, metal is programmed to kill and to be loyal to eggman. he has NO choice. hes been under eggmans control forever and when he rebelled he was beaten and reprogrammed to never be able to rebel again. metal has basically zero autonomy outside of eggman's orders [which is in great contrast to neo, who seems to be working FOR eggman's wishes, but still very much absorbed in his own power and emotions].

i don't really know what this whole ramble is about. i think while the comics seem to push the message that metal is going to be evil Forever, i also think it would be devastatingly tragic if he didn't get a redemption in the comics. y'all cant set up a horrifying depiction of abuse like this and tell me 'oh yeah and he stayed in that state forever'. i think if another fight happened at one point or another maybe they could TRY to figure out how to program OUT his anti rebellion streak? lol? even WITH that he did hesitate when sonic offered for him to be a good person again.

he literally hesitated when SONIC. IS THE ONE WHO OFFERED HIM A TRUCE. like he's literally programmed to believe sonic is his copy and he needs to kill him I don't think i can understate how insane it is that metal, despite all his programming and lack of automomy preventing it, for a split second, considered sonics offer.

thats all for tonight. metal sonic deserves the whole world. please reblog or comment your thoughts id love to talk more abt how hes characterized in the idw comics, might talk abt reflections next. bye !

[vinnyvamppp]

we need more mark grayson co-parenting please PLEASE IM GOING TK CRY PLEAAAE

Our Son, Apparently

Note: DON'T CRY, LMFAO. I've made this installment longer, why? Because it hopefully wont bring the request of a third part, but honestly so much could be done with this, I wouldn't be surprised if someone did. This only scratches the surface.

Synopsis: Mark Grayson never meant to be a single dad. You never meant to become a co-parent by proximity. But when Oliver enters your life, everything changes. From grocery store breakdowns to baby-proofing the world from Viltrumite tantrums, you and Mark find yourselves building a family you didn’t plan for… and falling in love right in the middle of the mess.

Warnings: Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Canon-Level Superhero Violence, Themes of Single Parenthood, Accidental Family, Identity Pressure, Interrupted Intimancy, Baby... Fluids? EXHAUSTION, etc. (Two and a Half Graysons PART 2: Previous Part: Here.)

Mark Grayson x GN!Reader

WC: 1.9k

It starts with a crack. Not just a crack, an explosion of glass, a shriek of wind, and the sharp twang of something small and plastic ricocheting off the opposite wall. You freeze in the kitchen, work uniform half-smeared with banana mush, its watered down taste and betrayal.

Across the room, the window is obliterated. Shattered glass glitters on the floor like a warning. And at the epicenter—with his fists balled and cheeks flushed purple—is Oliver, practically vibrating with frustration. The pacifier lies in the corner like the murder weapon it is. A stubby, rubber-tipped missile of infant rage.

“Okay,” you say slowly, voice high-pitched and tight. “So we’re entering our supervillain phase early. That’s cool.” Before you can even take a step, there’s a sonic thud and Mark crashes through the hallway barefoot, hoodie half-zipped and clinging to one arm, hair soaking wet and sticking up in every direction like he lost a fight with a showerhead and a towel.

He’s holding one of Oliver’s tiny socks in one hand and nothing in the other. No shirt, no shoes, just sweatpants and alarm. “What happened? Are you okay? Did someone break in—?” He pauses and sees the window, then Oliver. Then you, standing frozen with a spoonful of rejected mashed banana still in your hand.

Mark’s chest rises and falls with the kind of slow, controlled inhale you recognize immediately: do not freak out in front of the baby, do not freak out in front of the baby, do not—

He exhales and rubs his face. “What did I miss?” You gesture broadly at the destruction. “He didn’t like the unmashed banana.” Mark squints. “So he shattered the window?” You hold up the spoon. “I didn’t chew it first. Apparently that’s a crime now.”

There’s a long pause as Oliver lets out a little grunt, his chubby fingers clawing at the legs of your trousers, his face formed into the most pitiful pout. Mark presses his knuckles to his temple. “Cecil’s going to want to classify him as a WMD.” You snort. “I mean. Technically… he already is.”

Mark walks over, still barefoot, and carefully lowers Oliver back into the bouncer with gentle, practiced hands. Oliver lets out one last indignant coo before settling, hands clasping around his finger. Mark looks back at you. “I’ll fix the glass,” you murmur. “You just… survive until nap time.” You glance at him—hoodie half-hanging off one shoulder, sleep lines on his face, eyes soft and tired and still glowing faintly from adrenaline. And yeah, you think, maybe this is a disaster. It’s almost midnight when it’s finally quiet again.

The pacifier incident has been cleaned. The window is now repaired thanks to Cecil’s intervention (and Mark, who partially caved and followed a tutorial and swore under his breath the entire time). Oliver is tucked in, finally knocked out cold after Mark flew circles around the home until the kid passed out mid-air.

You’re standing in the kitchen, stirring a lukewarm cup of tea and staring into the nothingness that lives inside every sleep-deprived parent’s soul.

Behind you, a familiar heat. That slight change in air pressure when Mark enters the room. When he leans against the fridge with that look that always gets you into trouble. A lopsided grin, a raised brow, and a T-shirt long abandoned in the laundry apocalypse. What’s left of his khaki’s slung low, one hand casually holding a bowl of food he’s absolutely not eating. 

"You good?" he asks, voice low. "You look like you're about to throw the tea at the wall."

You glance over your shoulder. “If I don’t have a breakdown soon, it’s gonna get stuck in my chest. Gotta let the crazy out somehow.” You pause, finally catching his innuendo. “Are you trying to seduce me with that logic or your cereal breath?”

Mark steps behind you, hands finding your hips. His warmth sinks into your back, and you lean into him instinctively. His nose brushes your neck. “Both. Let it out later. We’ve got ten whole minutes of peace. Maybe twenty.”

You feel his hand drift, slide under the hem of your hoodie, fingers skimming over the expanse of flesh. Your breath catches in your throat. Your whole body hums and you can feel the tension shift—sharp, sweet, starved. His lips graze just behind your ear. “You smell like puff dust,” he murmurs. “It’s weirdly hot.”

You laugh, breathless, turning to face him. He lifts you onto the counter without hesitation, standing between your knees. He’s kissing you—slow, deep, one hand curling around your waist like he’s remembering your shape. Your fingers tangle within his curls, his fingers traveling lower unsure of their destination. You let him press you back against the fridge, and god, it’s been weeks. You can feel the tension unraveling between you both, fingertips digging, breathing uneven—

WAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. You both freeze, eyes wide.

Mark groans, head dropping to your shoulder. “I jinxed it.”

“I knew he was waiting to ruin this. He has a sixth sense for foreplay.” It was the next morning, and you both were awoken by the print of small feet against your lower back and the soft padded knocks at the front door. Cecil had sent a nanny. You weren't consulted, nor was Mark.

She arrives at 7 a.m. sharp in a shimmering suit, floating half an inch off the floor. Thressa, from the Glorvax system. Glowing skin, elegant limbs, eyes like a lava lamp. She walks into the home like she's visited a dozen times in past lives and scoops Oliver up like she’s been waiting years.

He giggles and reaches for her face before nuzzling her like a puppy.

You and Mark stare in utter, sleep-deprived bewilderment. Both looking like abandoned houseplants as she explains his development and gently feeds Oliver a new formula. Mark leans in, whispering, “Do you think she’s actually a nanny or just here to steal him from us?” You narrow your eyes. “She called him ‘my sweet hatchling.’ That’s not childcare. That’s a claim.”

Thressa turns and smiles warmly. “You two look stressed. Would you like time to yourselves? Perhaps a long shower together?”

You silently stare at her. Mark begins coughing violently, clearly flustered. And Oliver’s gleeful giggles ring out. “She knows Viltrumite development inside and out,” Cecil says, appearing via teleportation, money soon to be wasted as you hastily usher him away. “We need to start assessments. He’s already got strength enhancements and advanced development. She’ll help you prepare.”

“Did you hire her?” you ask flatly.

“No,” Cecil says. “I deployed her.”

And that’s when you snap.

You’re pacing Mark’s bedroom, hair mussed and voice sharp. “She shows up, picks up our kid, and suddenly he’s just—hers? She calls him her hatchling, Mark. Who says that? Who just decides they’re a better parent without even talking to us?”

Mark sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, watching you. Quiet. “I’m trying,” you say, and your voice breaks just a little. “I’m not his real parent. I know that. I’m not even—whatever we are, I just—but I love him. I choose him every single day. And I—”

You cut yourself off, chest heaving. Mark’s looking at you like you’ve just lit up the whole room.

“What?” you ask, flustered beyond comparison. “You said ‘our kid,’” he says quietly. “Like it’s just true. No hesitation.” You blink. “I—yeah. Because it is.” There was no in your words hesitation this time. He crosses the room in three steps and pulls you into a hug that feels like a home. "You're walking this with me. Every step. You didn't have to. But you are." And for a moment, you just breathe together, hearts dancing amongst one another as the night crickets sing.

Later that night, you’re curled up on the couch. Oliver’s asleep on your chest, tiny fingers fisted in your shirt. Mark’s beside you, legs tangled with yours, quiet. Soft. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, voice rough with something raw. “About all of this. You. Him. Us.” You glance over. His hand is fidgeting in his hoodie pocket. You feel your heart catch.

Mark doesn’t look at you. “It’s not the life I pictured. But it’s the only one I want. I don’t need perfect. I just need you.” You lean in and start placing soft kisses—one to his forehead. One to his closed eyelid. One to his cheek. Your lips brush his jaw last, and you whisper, “I already said yes.”

He looks at you, blinking, smile blooming like sunlight. He starts to move—to speak, maybe reach for something, and then— BLLAAAHHRGGHHH. A full-force stream of baby puke explodes all over your chest.

Oliver sits up mid-sleep and lets out a happy screech. Mark stares, frozen and yu stare down at your shirt. Silence…

You sigh. “So. Romantic.” Mark laughs, helpless, but relieved. “I was so close.” You press your forehead to his. “You still are. Just—Just give me a moment.” The apartment is quiet for once—no screeching, no flying objects, no sudden diaper blowouts or random alien agency visits. The air hums with that tired kind of stillness you only get after surviving a war made entirely of juice spills and broken windows.

You’re both on the couch, half-curled into each other like always—your legs over his lap, his hand absently stroking up and down your shin. There’s a half-empty bottle of formula abandoned on the coffee table, and Mark’s hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows as he stares at your joined limbs like he’s seeing something new.

He’s not shirtless, shockingly, but the gray tee he is wearing is soft and thin and rides up when he shifts. You’re trying not to think about that. Or about how stupid in love you feel. And then he does it—says the thing that makes everything tilt slightly sideways.

“I really wanted to do this earlier.”

You glance over at him, brow raised. “Do what?” You knew, but you always loved watching him stammer. Mark’s eyes flick toward the hallway—where the baby’s sleeping like a tiny purple demon—and then back to you. “The real version. Not the puke-soaked one.”

Your chest tightens. That thing in your stomach flips over once. He shifts under your legs, suddenly looking very much like the guy who once flew through asteroids but is now panicking because emotions are harder than world threatening catastrophes.

“I didn’t get to say it the way I wanted to,” he says. “Didn’t even get the sentence out. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About you. About Oliver. About how you’ve been in it with me. Even when it’s been hell. And I just—” He stops and scratches the back of his neck, blotches of blush creeping up his skin.

“I’m not great at this,” he mutters. “The talking thing. Or the… ring thing.” Your breath catches as he pulls something out of his pocket. It’s small a small, silver band at first glance. No grand box, no sparkle, but honest. The kind of ring someone keeps in their hoodie for weeks because they never know when life will let them have five minutes to use it.

He looks up at you. His eyes are soft and unsteady, but open. “I don’t need a ceremony or a perfect moment. I just want to make this official. Me and you. And him. Because you’re already it for me. You’ve been it since you didn’t flinch when I showed up with a purple alien baby and said, ‘Hey, I kind of need you.’”

You stare at him for a second, heart full to the point of bursting, brain trying to keep up with the wave of affection suddenly choking you. You lean in slowly. Your lips brush along his jaw as you whisper, “You never had to ask.” He exhales like you just took all the weight out of his chest.

You take the ring from his fingers and slide it onto your own without ceremony, just solid, quiet finality. The ring is smooth and silver-toned, with a thin, engraved pattern around the band—a repeating geometric design that, at first glance, looks abstract. But you recognize it immediately: a minimalist recreation of the pattern around Science Dog’s communicator. On the inside, there’s a small engraving: “For the one who made it all mean something. (Issue#47)”

“Wait, is this… Science Dog’s communicator symbol?”

“You noticed that?” Mark mumbles, stumbling slightly over his words. “Yeah. I mean, he always picks love over logic, even when it gets him hurt. Felt fitting.” It was fitting. He left you in a stunned silence, a grin etching across your lips as his panic set in.

“Look, I saw it on a fan site and the engraving said, ‘Intergalactic loyalty since Issue #1’ and I just—it felt right, okay? Don’t make fun of me.” He laughs—small and a little dazed—and pulls you into his lap, burying his face in your neck. “God, you’re stuck with me now.”

“Mark,” you murmur, smiling. “I’ve been stuck since the first time you showed up at my job holding a diaper bag and looking like a confused golden retriever.” He snorts. “Sexy golden retriever,” he corrects, smitten against your collarbone. “Yeah. Covered in formula and baby wipes. Total heartthrob.”

He pulls back to look at you, the grin soft but teasing. “I love you.” The words are quiet. Uncomplicated and true.

The only sound left in the room is your breathing—and his. Your fingers brush his jaw, just enough to tilt his face toward yours. His eyes are tired but warm—lit from within by something more than adrenaline or duty or even affection. It’s love, and it’s undeniable.

His hands curl around your waist, pulling you closer like he’s making sure this is real. Your thighs bracket his, your knees brushing, and your fingers slide into his hair with a practiced ease that makes him shudder. “We could…” he whispers, his breath catching as your lips brush the curve of his neck. “Maybe… actually finish something tonight?”

You grin against his skin. “Finish or start something. We don’t have to be ambitious.” He laughs, low and warm, and leans into the kiss again, deeper this time. It builds—slow but certain. A quiet dam that’s been waiting to break.

Your hips shift against his. His hand trails beneath the hem of your shirt, and you feel it in your stomach first—the pull of wanting, of comfort, of home. But you pause. Just long enough to breathe together, forehead pressed to his.

Mark’s ring glinting softly on his finger where it presses against your clothed skin. The family photo Eve took on your fridge: slightly blurry, your hair a mess, Mark looking exhausted, Oliver mid-sneeze—and all of you smiling like you didn’t know the moment was going to matter.

Because it does.

Mark didn’t plan for any of this. Not fatherhood. Not an engagement. Not this future. But right now, watching you lean into him like you were always meant to be there, he wouldn’t trade a second of it. Because this is his family. And you?

You’ve been his world since the day he showed up in your doorway with panic in his eyes and a baby in his arms.

You kiss him again, slow this time—no interruptions, no crying, no urgency. Just warmth. His hands around your waist. Your fingers gliding across his scalp. Mouths meeting gently, like you’ve got all the time in the world.

And for once… you do. A/N: I'm contractually obligated to end every fic with a sappy one liner. CONGRATS READER, YOU'RE OFFICIALLY A GRAYSON. (If anyone requests a part three, I promise you I will go full chaos with the nest one, had to keep this one adjacent to comic timing, though.)

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[demonic0angel]

Here's an idea: Fear toxin causes ghosts to go into a berserker rage. No one knows this until one of the Phantoms gets dosed with the stuff.

Inspired by this ask

“Phantom!” Wonder Woman shouted. “Snap out of it!”

Phantom snarled, his eyes glowing bright enough to look like two miniature green suns. The cold that radiated off of him was bone-chilling and sent fear striking through all of their chests, as if Death loomed over them with the blade of the scythe lifted over their heads.

He flew forward and blasted at her with his ghost ray, sending her flying backwards and straight at Green Arrow, who was unable to dodge in time.

Phantom’s clones broke apart their teamwork, even if one of him could barely be handled. Superman was already unconscious and so were a few other members of the Justice League. Ice and blood littered the leveled city and it was only growing as Phantom attacked indiscriminately.

Batman could only raise the ghost shield to protect the civilians around them, cursing as Phantom thoroughly shattered their defenses and numbers through sheer strength.

How were they supposed to know that Scarecrow had reached out to others beyond Gotham and one of the latest black market drugs had been made with it? Even worse, they had not anticipated Phantom being attacked by one, nor did they expect his sheer power.

Phantom was a new addition to the Justice League, but he was a welcome one. He was young and excitable, but his kindness and heroism had endeared him to them all. To see him like this, mindless and drugged by fear toxin, it both broke their hearts and almost made them want to fall to their knees in terror.

Like this, it was no wonder that Phantom had once offhandedly mentioned that he was worshipped by a cult.

His raw strength, unhindered by morals or emotions, rivaled demons and gods.

“Phantom! Break through it! You can’t be controlled by the fear toxin!” Batman screamed, hoping that he could somehow reach through Phantom’s drugged mind.

One of his clones blasted him with ice and then threw several cars at him, all of which Batman had to dodge, only for the clone to phase through the flying cars and strike him while he was distracted.

Black Canary gave a sonic scream at Phantom, who blinked once, before whirling around and then screaming right back. His sonic scream made all of their ear drums burst, almost rivaling Black Canary’s, except his had no control and no musical finesse. It was like the horrifying cry of a baby dying, of a mother screaming for her child, of a soldier dying in battle, of the last breath of a man on his death bed.

It was horrible and it was the first time Batman had ever seen Superman both convulse awake and then be knocked back into unconsciousness from the pain of his erupted eardrums multiple times in a row.

They were losing. Badly.

Batman hesitated on what to do, only able to call out orders as Justice League members struggled against Phantom, when suddenly, there was a voice nearby.

“Excuse me?” A sweet voice called and Batman whirled around, wide eyed to stare at a young woman, tall and red haired. She didn’t seem to notice the chaos and screaming around her, only blinking at him slowly.

“You can’t be here,” Batman interrupted harshly. “Please step away! We are currently combatting a volatile enemy and you will get hurt! Please step back!”

The woman blinked and then smiled.

“I’m here to help,” she said. “I heard there was trouble?”

Batman froze before hope bloomed in his chest. “You’re—!”

She nodded gently. “Yes. I’m Jazz. I’m here to help, so… what do you want me to do?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cut Deep

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Bad news brings the worst out in Logan. [reader is a mutant who can see emotions]

Characters: Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Note: since this is my first time writing this character, I'd especially appreciate some extra feedback

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“So, me and Scott just wanted to let everyone know we chose a date!” Jean is ecstatic. You can feel her happiness radiating from her. Despite how often you try to block those vibrations out, hers are so strong, you can’t. “And we’ll send out the invitations soon. Be sure to RSVP! And we know you all can make it because it will be right here at the mansion.” 

She beams as Scott drapes his arm around her shoulders. They are such a cute couple. Perfect. Everyone on the team loves them. Well, everyone except for the one person roiling with black clouds of spite. 

You glance over at Logan as he stews by the door. He stands with his burly arms crossed, his biceps straining in his leather jacket. He glares at the happy couple and curls his lip. Everyone also knows that he has a rotten infatuation with Jean, too. You feel bad for him really. 

He catches you staring before you can tear your eyes away. He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. You quickly look away and swallow. You get up and go to Jean and Scott. 

“Congrats, guys,” you smile, “let me know if you need any help with planning.” 

“Thank you. Of course,” Jean smiles as Scott echoes her. 

You make room for another well-wisher and back away, basking in the good energy all around. Well, mostly. You feel Logan steaming still but you refuse to look at him. You know how he gets when he’s upset. You don’t need to be able to see into his mind to know he’s pissed off. 

As the room converges on the happily engaged couple, you opt to leave before the noise can get too much. You’re always a bit more sensitive with the extra effort of trying to block out the sounds that you don’t want to hear. It’s like a buzz on the other side of a wall. If the door cracks open, it will all blast in like a sonic wave. 

You go into the library and reclaim the book you set left carelessly open on a leather armrest. It’s a history of mutants written in the 1700s. A secret tome Professor Xavier collected among his endless search for compatriots, both past and present. 

Some you know from the history taught in schools for non-mutants. Like the queen accused of witchcraft or the countless people executed for the very same. Emperors who’s legacies are chalked up to folktale and superstition over the reality of their beings.  

You sit up as you sense the shift in the air. That greyness seeps in before the door opens. You know who it is already yet you’re surprised to see him enter. Logan scowls as his eyes pinpoint at you. His rage continues to burn hotter and hotter. 

“Oh, hi,” you close the book, “sorry, did you need the library--” 

“I need you to stop tryna poke around in my head,” he growls. 

You flinch as you stand slowly, “I... I don’t do that. Those are the rules. I stay in my own.” 

“I saw you staring,” he accuses. 

“I just looked. I could... feel. That I can’t control,” you explain. “Sorry.” 

“Feel what? Huh? What do you think you know?” 

You clear your throat and shake your head. “Nothing, I don’t know anything.” 

“Damn right, you know shit all, little girl,” he stomps over to you. 

You gulp as you stare back at him. Logan, Wolverine, X-Man. He’s one of the most admired and well-known mutants alive but that’s all you know of him. You’ve seen him hundreds of times in the mansion, but only in passing. He never wanted to talk to you, only Jean. As far as you knew, he didn’t even know you existed. 

“That’s correct,” you agree. 

You peek down at the book in your hand. You should put it back. You sniff but as you go to turn, he rips you back by your upper arm. His grip is steel. You face him and wince as he squeezes enough to make your bones ache. 

“You think I’m what? Some pathetic creature that’s slathering over another guy’s girl?” He barks. 

You shake your head, “nope. No. I wouldn’t... know.” 

“You fucking wouldn’t,” he grits, his fingertips pushing into your tender arm. You let out a squeak. “Me? What about you? Always around. Riding her fucking coat tails. All for what? Cause you can tell when I’m having a bad fucking day. Every day is fucking bad.” 

You stare at him. A vein bulges in his forehead, another in his neck, and he’s slightly red with his fury. You don’t understand why he’s mad at you. Well, people often don’t aim their emotions in the right direction. Often, there’s too much for them to feel and it just spills over.  

Logan’s aura deepens to a thick black. Darker and bolder than anything you’ve ever witnessed. It tendrils around you as you squirm. You clasp onto the book and try to wiggle free as the blood throbs in your arm. 

“Ouch. Please, let me go. I wasn’t meaning to--” 

“You’re never going to be her. You know that? You won’t even be an X-Man. You’re just one of Charles’ pets.” He reaches for the book and rips it from your hand. “He keeps you in your birdcage and you flutter around and read these stupid things.” 

He tosses the book onto the floor and steps closer. You step back and whine. He keeps on until you’re against a shelf. 

“You’ll never be her and I’ll never have her,” he grits out. “So, we’ll compromise.” He grabs your neck and you writhe and whimper. “What do you feel now, huh?” 

A wisp of red tinges the black fog unfurling from his broad shoulders. More anger but something more. Lust. Love is a delicate pink or a pale purple, but lust is a deep and lurid crimson. Mixed with his rage, it is something more. It’s a tainted hue. 

“I can pretend. You should try to do the same.” 

“Please,” you press your hands against his stomach. 

“Don’t try that shit,” he drags his other hand down your arm and puts his knuckles to your side. He lets his claws out just enough to jab you. “You can’t get in my head. Professor made well sure of that.” 

You squeak and shake your head, “I wouldn’t-- Logan, please--” 

“Shut your damn mouth and pull your pants down. I ain’t got all day,” he snarls. 

“What?” You bat your eyes as they glisten. “No, no, what are you--” 

His claws poke you again, easily piercing your shirt and scratching your skin. You lean back into the shelf as you peel your hands away from him. He glowers at you as he releases your neck. He crowds you in as you wait just a moment longer, hoping, wishing he would go. 

You lower your hands cautiously. You drop your gaze, humiliated. You shake as you hook your thumbs under your waistband and push your leggings down. You gulp as your eyes tingle. 

He grabs your shoulder and spins you to face the shelf. You let out an oomph as you catch yourself against the books. He trails up to the back of your neck and pinches. You squeal into a sob. Your disbelief bubbles to horror. You brace the wood as he yanks on your panties. 

“Fucking girl,” he mutters. “Lookin’ at me... what d’ya fucking know?” 

“Logan--” 

“Stop saying my goddamn name.” He shoves your head so it hits a shelf and you groan. Ouch. 

You close your eyes and lean your forehead on the wood. Jean says you need to breathe. Centre yourself. It’s hard when you’re terrified. 

You inhale, taking in his emotion, his anger, even a tinge of that other desire that drives him so slap your ass. He digs in his nails as you babble. You gather the black cloud and blow it out. 

He hisses and recoils as it ripples off of you like fire. He growls and as you go to turn, he sweeps your feet out from under you. You flail as you fall, landing on your elbow so it throbs. You whine and roll onto your stomach. You drag yourself over the floor as he clutches his head and snarls. 

“I told ya not to try anything,” he barks. 

“Please, please, I didn’t do anything.” 

He steps over you and falls to his knees. He straddles you as you claw at the floor, pushing your toes down as you try to escape him. He swats the back of your head so hard your vision blurs. His anger darkness the room and disorients you. 

You’ve never felt anything so intense and you feel everything. Love, joy, pain, grief, confusion... fear. His anger strangles you as he forces your head down to the floor, leaning his weight on his head as he pins you. 

He raises himself on his knees and shifts. You kick out, thrashing your arms. You open and close your hands and clamp shut your eyes. You can do it. Take his anger in-- 

You scream as you’re scalded by the corrupt energy pouring from him. No, it’s too much. You’re not ready. All that training and you’re still weak. 

You murmur at the floor, “no, no, please, no...” 

He traces his hand down your ass and forces his fingers between your thighs. He feels around roughly, scratching your as he flicks along your dry folds. You gulp and heave. Your tears swell in an unstoppable flow. 

You slap your hands on the floor and tense as he prods around, dipping a thick digit into your cunt with a grunt. Your legs distend and you push your toes down. He delves, in, out, deeper, harder, smashing into you. 

He rips his hand away and you whine again. He leans over you, his hand stretching across your skull entirely. You can feel his strength in your neck. He bends, hot breath scalding your scalp with the flames of his wrath. 

You weep as he brings his tip along your flesh and guides it around blindly. He puts more weight onto your head as he stretches you around his tip. You shriek and jut your arm out straight, the edge of the rug curling in your grasp. 

“Help, someone! Help--” 

He grabs your head with both hands and slams it into the floor. The reverberating impact fractures your voice and thoughts. He rams his hips down and impales you around his thick cock. You murmur as spittle leaks from your mouth and tears continue to smear your face. 

He thrusts, holding himself at his limit and well past yours. He grips your skull tighter and tighter with each tilt. He huffs and puffs, growling and groaning as he tears you up from the inside. 

Finally, he releases your head. The metallic shink of his claws cuts through the delirium of physical and mental anguish. The pain in your bones can’t compare to the dagger of his anger piercing through your soul. 

He stabs his claws into the floor on either side of your neck. The adamantium grazes your skin, keeping you still for fear of cutting deeper. You wheeze and go rigid as he rears back and slams down harder and harder. His flesh clasp louder with each cruel descent. 

The black cloud creeps over the floor like heavy fog. It crawls up the walls as a glimmer of red weaves through it. He ruts deeper and deeper, the motion jarring you so that his claws scrape away the skin at your neck. 

He bends over you, curling his shoulders as you feel him tense. He exhales as the blackness covers the ceiling and casts you into shadow. You reach to grasp at his claws, slicing your palms helplessly as you cling on. 

He thrusts until you feel him in your guts. Once, twice, several time with all the hatred he can summon. He growls and trembles as he spills into you, a heat hotter than even his boiling rage.  

Your hands slip from his claws and you spread your bloodied palms on the carpet. You quake in horrified sobs. He buries himself as he lays his entire weight over you limply. He puffs as he dislodged the metal from the floor.  

He hangs his head next to yours and sneers, “it shouldn’t be him, Jean.” 

You hold your breath. You can’t speak or move for fear of reminding him what he’s just done. Or worse, reigniting his assault. 

He groans and slides out, flipping off of you to sit on his ass. He rests his arms on his bent knees and sighs. You watch the black haze dim to a dull grey. He’s still angry but he can contain it. The storm has calmed but it's far from over.

[issybee06]

Can you do jealous Thragg x reader? Like if Reader gets flirted with or she has a friend who likes her?

Pride

Yes I can!

Thragg x reader

He’s my guilty pleasure

He’s genuinely so funny but like not in a silly way it’s just when he crashes out I giggle like a maniac

I like to this this guy doesn’t even understand what it is to get jealous because bro has everything, why should he ever feel jealous??

…………………….…………………….…………………….………….

Thragg understands you’re a very attractive person. It’s not the main reason he picked you out of all the human females he could have chosen, but it is the first thing he noticed about you.

Over time he began to understand you aren’t just a pretty face. You’re smart and kind and have questionable humor that he doesn’t quite understand yet but he enjoys you.

What he doesn’t enjoy is this runt of the litter boy talking your ear off at the very same moment Thragg has just decided to come visit you.

Subconsciously, he feels his jaw tense. His brow furrow. His fist clench.

The boy is not even a threat to him, noodle armed and not a mustache in sight. He’s unfit to be holding your attention for this long, bragging and flaunting like a peacock headed fool.

And you? You’re kind. Sometime Thragg hates how kind you are, especially to people who don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. You’re a far more superior lifeform than this thing placing his ha-

…did he just touch you?

Thragg wants to snap someone’s neck.

Specificity this boys neck first.

He walks into your office, letting his presence be known. Your smile brightens at him and he feels himself grow with pride and smirks, dark eyes looking over at the other person in the room.

He’s quaking, as he should be, eyes stupidly wide and mouth opened comically. Thragg snorts under his breath, this boy really thought he could steal you? His perfect little mate? No, unlikely.

“Hey stranger, what brings you here?” You asked as you stood from your desk, walking over to him. Unusually, Thragg didn’t do PDA. It was unnecessary, a sign of weakness to himself for wanting you so badly that he couldn’t control his own urges. He was not a fresh young man just grasping the understanding of his hormones, he was Grand regent Thragg, and he doesn’t do PDA.

Usually.

His powerful arm shoots out and drags your body close to his chest, nose in your hair as he tries to replace his scent to get rid of any trace of this lesser man. Why did you let him touch you, let alone let him into your office?

You yelp slightly in surprise, not expecting this from him. The usually so sonic Viltrumite warrior was buzzing with anger, and if you listened carefully enough…was he growling?!

“Thragg, baby, can’t breathe!” Your muffled voice sounds, face in his chest.

He doesn’t ease up his grip, if anything he holds you closer; tighter. If he was a weaker man, wasn’t so in control of his emotions and rage, he would have bent you over your desk and fucked you within an inch of your life in front of the boy.

He respects you too much for that, but he could. And you’d enjoy it, he’s almost positive.

You wiggle out of his chest, looking over at your coworker and smiling sheepishly, “sorry…can we pick this up tomorrow maybe…?”

Your coworker, the fool with his jaw still on the ground, swallows his shame and nods, “y-yeah. Yeah…I’ll uh, catch you later?”

Thragg glares as he scampers out, tail tucked between his legs with a kicked dog look that made Thragg crack a pleased smile.

You hit his chest and he raises a brow at you, head craned down to look at your glare. Though you tried to look menacing, you were too cute to him. He smiled down at you, large hands cupping your chin, “hello little mate.”

“Thragg, what the hell?”

He huffs, smiling down at you as he reaches into your hair and begins plays with a strand, “what? That inferior life form thinks he has a chance with you, that he can just come in here and touch you, speak to you… it really quite maddening the boldness some of the males have on your planet…”

He reached down, lips brushing against yours to steal the air from your lungs. He smirks, hearing your light shuttered in take of air. He whispers, lips barely leaving yours, “I’m simply reminding him you’re mine, it’s my right.”

[mustardsticks]

Migyua's Stobotnik Gift Exchange

Totally forgot to post this on tumblr. This Gift was for @scaredofstyrofoam

Will also be adding details about my sonic prime stone because i got wayyy to into it. These details are not exactly fleshed out since I never really had the time beyond discord messages and me answering questions about their dynamic. Also please note that i did not watch all of sonic prime, i only got up to season 2.

Its angsty please remember that. Also please ask me any questions if you want, I will gladly share!

CW : Mentions of - violence/abuse, thoughts of suicide, loss of autonomy, and possibly more. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Please also ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes lol I typed it up and never edited it.

In the shatterverse there is only one Agent Stone that exists. He's first the Agent/Assistant to Mr. Dr. Eggman and later on extends his role to the other members of the Chaos Councils when they meet and team up. There was an incident where Stone was injured beyond repair and was just waiting to die. The Chaos Council wouldn't let that happen so they turned him into a cyborg. They had built his body as human as possible, even giving him artificial nerves.

Now that Stone was a cyborg, he's also to do more things his human body wasn't able to do. He was also more efficient and needed less time to rest. The Chaos Council began to demand more from him and started to think of him as a robot, their property, and not human anymore.

One day Stone goes to Mr. Dr. Eggman asking him to let him go and deactivate him. While Stone was devoted and loyal to the Chaos Council, he was also suppose to die and didn't want to live. The problem is that he was still human. While his body might not reflect the damage, his brain still remembers the incident and Stone has phantom pains everywhere on his body and it really messes him up. He knows the Chaos Council only saved him because he believes they cared about him as much as he does. Stone tells him that it was unhealthy for them to cling to him, to preserve a life by building it a body. Mr. Dr. Eggman didn't like that, the idea of Stone not being by his side was impossible and so he took away Stone's autonomy, basically having full control of him so he couldn't leave because Stone is theirs. While Stone no longer had control of his body and his brain was numbed. He was still able to hear, see, and feel what does council does to him but he no longer able to feel the phantom pains.

Stone doesn't get the right side of his face robotized until after his autonomy was taken. I had the idea that either Dr. Babble or Dr. Done-it did it in a fit of rage. They took their anger out on Stone and injured him, they had smashed his head in and some more around his body. They never knew that they inflected that much damage on Stone as they also took their anger out on their surroundings. Rusty Rose pulled him out of there while they focused their rage on something else. She brings him to Mr. Dr. Eggman who helps him the damage severe and almost reversable, to save time he robotizes the right side of his face. Later he punishes the two council members by revoking their access to Stone.

[slutoru1207]

Mistaken Devotion – Part 4

Your heartbeat slammed in your ears.

He wasn’t letting you go.

The grip on your wrist was firm, unshakable—not enough to hurt, not yet, but final.

His golden lenses burned into you, unreadable, but his chest heaved like he was trying to control something dangerousclawing inside him.

Your breath hitched.

Then—

A boom split through the air.

The windows rattled. The entire house shook.

And then—

A blur of blue and yellow crashed through the ceiling.

The impact sent shards of drywall flying. You yelped, shielding your face as your Mark landed between you and the imposter.

A gust of wind hit you from the sheer force of it.

Your Mark’s back was to you, but you could feel the rage rolling off him—his shoulders tense, fists clenched, stance low and ready.

And then—

"Get your hands off my girl."

Your stomach dropped.

Full-Mask Mark didn’t even flinch.

Instead—he laughed.

Soft. Amused. Almost...sad.

And then—

He tilted his head.

"Your girl?"

Your Mark’s fists tightened. “You heard me.”

The masked Mark let out a slow exhale, like he was disappointed.

"You don’t deserve her."

Then—

THEY MOVED.

A sonic boom cracked through the house as both Marks lunged at each other at full force.

You barely had time to scream before they clashed—the sheer impact sending shockwaves through the entire room.

Fists flew. Bones crunched. The house shook like it was about to collapse.

You scrambled backward, heart slamming in your chest as they tore into each other.

One of them—you couldn’t even tell who—got slammed into the kitchen counter. The marble shattered on impact.

Another punch—one of them was bleeding now—

They weren’t holding back.

They weren’t human enough to hold back.

Your Mark was fighting like a man defending everything he loved.

Full-Mask Mark was fighting like a man who had already lost everything.

And both of them wanted you.

Your breath came out shaky as you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to think.

Who was going to win?

And more importantly—

What happens to you when they decide?

[ask-the-eggmans]

Hello yall! So, I know we’ve seen before that metal sonic and Stone would absolutely destroy the team if they hurt Eggman too bad, but is that because Stone is deadly determined, or because metal sonic is that powerful? Does Eggman have equal control or is Stone holding some back from metal? Or would Stone and Metal Sonic not have destroyed the team? You make wonderful art! 😁

The answer to this is uh- yes? Stone is batshit crazy when he's mad- there's no better way to put it. Metal was a tool he made for defense but also a weapon for revenge. Metal is specifically equipped to destroy. While Stone isn't usually the rage full and violent type, and actually is neutral/or maybe just slightly annoyed about Sonic and Co, he does have a breaking point.

By himself, Stone already poses a huge threat. He's smart, agile, good with weapons, and stealthy. He could take them out alone, but with Metal, it's like he amped that threat up to a 100. Sonic specifically has never been in so much danger, until now everyone had their weaknesses that he could beat. But Metal? How do you fight someone who's so much like you? Metal, in fact, has more strengths than Sonic does. He poses a horrible threat, and that's by design.

Stone loves Metal, but Metal is also a weapon. Get him angry enough, he will encourage the most rageful parts of Metal's programming to come forward.

Metal is usually used in battle by Eggman at this point. But Ivo doesn't have access to some of the more violent settings in his coding. Only Stone can switch those on. Metal is being held back.

[azazel-the-eldritch]

I had a thought recently: Silver the Hedgehog has to be one of the strongest characters in Sonic canon in terms of raw power.

It's often shown that he can use his psychokinesis to do some crazy things like fly, levitate, throw energy blasts, sometimes teleport, and any time he manipulate or moves things with his mind, it takes so little effort or energy to do so. Even things as big as buildings don't take much for him. Granted he does need to keep his focus on those things, but never seems to strain himself that much, if at all.

Upon first crossing paths with Sonic, Silver is dog-walking him. As much as we all shit on that boss fight, I'm convinced that's how it actually went in canon. Like yeah, Sonic is fast and knows how to scrap, but getting close to Silver just means getting caught in a psychic field and being yeeted across the arena.

It's implied that he's at least as powerful as Shadow, and seems to be just as naturally attuned to the Chaos Emeralds as Shadow is, evoking Chaos Control in a fit of rage after seeing Shadow do it once . And a lot of the things he can already do naturally are things Sonic and Shadow would need to go Super or use Doom Powers for.

That last bit makes me think about how the Chaos Emeralds, and by extension Master Emerald, are often lauded as "turning thoughts into power". And then you have Silver, who's whole power set revolves around thoughts being his power.

The biggest hints we have to his upper limits are the whole two times he has gone Super in the main series. The first time, he was aiding in fighting a rogue time god across multiple futures, handily throwing all of its attacks back at it. The other time was during the climax of the Metal Virus arc of the IDW comics where Super Silver just... psychically pulls the entirety of the virus out of the planet and its inhabitants, thus curing them, with what seems like minimal effort. He just... did that.

And all this power, all this world bending mental prowess in the form of a teenage rodent who was born in an apocalyptic future who is equal parts kind optimistic bean and seething hair-trigger crashout. And he has anxiety and struggles with self-worth, so there's that.

I love him. He is my son.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Omg I luv your writing 🩷🩷🩷🖤🖤🖤🩷🖤🖤🩷🖤🩷 Could you please write a Yandere team up of Sonic and Amy where they’re both yan for reader. Maybe they didn’t realize at first but then after they found out they were both yan for reader they decided to team up together, tho probably after a lot of back and forth bc I can see them both being reluctant to share but since they both love reader they decided it’s best to share in order to protect them better. Srry for yappin lol 🩷🖤

A/n: idk what to put here

Yandere Sonic/Amy x Reader

The moment they realized they were both obsessed with you, the tension was palpable

Sonic had been watching you for months, racing to your side whenever you were around, even when you weren't. He always thought it was normal, just him being protective, just him making sure you were safe. But the way his heart pounded whenever you smiled? The way his brain short-circuited when you laughed at one of his jokes? The way he felt actual rage when someone got too close to you? Yeah... He should've realized it sooner.

Amy, on the other hand, had always been passionate about her feelings. She didn't just love you, she adored you, worshiped the very ground you walked on. Every interaction you had was a treasure, a moment she replayed over and over in her mind. Every glance, every word, it all meant something. And if someone even thought about getting between you and her? Well, they wouldn't be around for long.

Neither of them had expected to find out about each other's.... Affections for you.

At first, it was a disaster.

"You like them too?!"

Amy's voice had been shrill, disbelief laced in every word as she clutched her hammer tight.

Sonic had his arms crossed, brows furrowed. "Yeah? And? You're not exactly subtle, Ames. You think I haven't noticed the way you stalk them?"

Amy scoffed, flipping her hair. "Please! Like you're any better. You hover around them like some sort of- of blue mosquito!"

Sonic smirked, acting as if he wasn't the tiniest bit irritated. "Better than being a pink menace with a giant mallet."

The argument lasted hours. Insults, glares, threats, neither wanted to back down. They didn't want to share you. You were theirs.

But in the end, as much as they hated to admit it, they had one thing in common: they needed you.

And if they had to wirk together... So be it...

At first, it was awkward.

They kept stepping on each other's toes, trying to one-up each other for your attention. Sonic would whisk you away for a day of adventure, making sure you only had eyes for him. Then Amy would swoop in, showering you with gifts and affection, reminding you how sweet and thoughtful she was.

They'd sabotage each other constantly. Sonic would "accidentally" ruin Amy's plans with you, while Amy would guilt-trip you into spending more time with her instead of Sonic.

It was exhausting.

For both them and you.

One night, they finally admitted it wasn't working.

"Look, Ames, this back and forth? It's just stressing them out." Sonic groaned, rubbing his temples.

Amy, surprisingly, sighed in agreement. "I know. I just... I don’t want to lose them, Sonic."

There was a pause.

For once, they were honest with each other.

Frankly, bithe of them were tired of this, and they both knew that if they kept fighting, they'd lose you, maybe not to someone else, but you'd grow tired of their constant tug-of-war. They couldn't risk that.

So, reluctantly, they agreed.

They'd share.

Not because they wanted to. But because it was the only way to keep you theirs.

After that, things got better, or at least the best it could get.

Instead of competing, they worked as a team.

Amy would distract you while Sonic took care of any problems (rivals). Sonic would keep you entertained while Amy ensured you stayed dependent on them.

Their dynamic became something terrifyingly perfect.

You didn't realize how much control they had over your life.

Your plans would mysteriously fall through if they didn't include them. Your friends would distance themselves, either by choice (or force). You'd start relying on Sonic and Amy more and more, until one day, they were all you had.

And by then, it was too late.

You slipped up.

And now.

They weren't letting you go.

[vonbabbitt]

throws tetro rpg au at you

Isono

Role: On-Field DPS

Weapon: Electric-charged gauntlets

Skill: Big burst o’ s p e e d

Addtional notes: Controls a robot to fight like a first person computer game bc agoraphobia go brrr, hits inflict short-lasting debuff that slows movement speed of opponents

Harada

Role: Off-Field DPS

Weapon: Spear

Skill: Sawa summon

Additional notes: For elaboration, he always has Sawa with him, but when he summons her she becomes b i g and can fight independently for a given time (also if they want harada can ride sawa like a mount >:3), Sawa hits like a truck and can add a bleeding affect for a short time

Chiba

Role: Support

Weapon: Magic wand

Skill: Flight and bomb dropping

Additional notes: Can fly because demon spawn hell yeah, drops bombs that do a bit of AOE damage before releasing a cloud of attack-lowering debuff dust

Kamimura

Role: Healer

Weapon: Chemical bomb shit?

Skill: Healing Elixir

Additional notes: Throws chemical compounds at opponents to fight like a badass, heals by drinking an elixir that heals party a certain amount for a given time

Hayashi

Role: On-Field DPS…duh

Weapon: Dual-Wields Butterfly knives

Skill: Rage

Additional notes: When in rage, damage signifigantly increases for a time, but takes small ticks of damage for the duration of the rage or until she leaves the field (Xiao’s burst from genshin comes to mind)

Wada

Role: Support

Weapon: Iron Man-esque palm blasters (i can’t really think of anything else and i think this would be really funny)

Skill: A big fucking noise idk

Additional notes: Can create a sonic shockwave that disorients opponents and lowers defence

Sasaki

Role: Off-Field DPS

Weapon: Scepter

Skill: Turret

Additional notes: Rpg sasaki would absolutely go to a magic school, turret is a small wisteria that deals magic damage within a certain AOE, characters standing in this field gain a small attack buff

Ojima

Role: Support

Weapon: Paintbrush

Skill: Armor

Additional notes: Summons armor for teammates, increasing defense but lowering movement speed

Okazaki

Role: On-Field DPS

Weapon: Ping-ponging between dual-wielding guns or a rapier because c l a s s y

Skill: Shadow Dash

Additional notes: Can dash forward in a flurry of shadows (dealing damage to any opponents in line of dash) and imbue bullets with shadow magic shit, this is doubled at night

Hama

Role: On-Field DPS

Weapon: Demon Arm

Skill: Hellraising

Additional notes: Can summon a demon to fight alongside party for a time, it has heightened defense and movement speed, gets incrementally stronger as Hama is on the field

Tsuno

Role: Healer

Weapon: Shield but like it can split in two and be worn on each wrist

Skill: Healing turret

Summons a ✩Statue of Justice✩ that can heal nearby party members, doubled during the day

Hiroaki

Role: Support

Weapon: Bow

Skill: Crowd Control

Additional notes: Can fire a special arrow that sucks in enemies and deals small damage over time

Tamba

Role: On-Field DPS

Weapon: Whip?

Skill: Tamba Time stance

Additional notes: When stance is activated, attack and movement speed is increased greatly, but defence is lowered, when stance ends attack and speed drop and defence rises

Hasegawa

Role: Off-Field DPS

Weapon: Longsword

Skill: Jellyfsh

Additional notes: Summons a big-ass jellyfish that does big chuncks of damage in slow increments

Watari

Role: Off-Field DPS

Weapon: Fire Dancing Sticks

Skill: …fire dancing

Additional notes: Summons a ring of fire that follows party around and deals burning damage, pairs well with Yanagi

Yanagi

Role: Healer

Weapon- Ice Skates

Skill: Snowstorm

Additional notes: Creates a snowstorm that heals party and inflicts “cold” affect on enemies, pairs well with Watari

crap now im thinking about a tetro tcg

i have nothing to add i just want the people to see this

[atwas-gaming]

I've had a scenario in mind for a while now about what it would take for Sonic to finally own up to his feelings about Amy. And I think what it would take is...

Shadow.

Well, just plain jealousy and a fear of losing Amy before he even has her. But Shadow would be the best one to instigate it.

First, some headcanons about how they behave romantically:

Amy's maturing and spreading her wings. She's not moving on from Sonic, not really, but it's possible that she's starting to notice other guys. There's some hints in the Twitter takeovers that she may be developing some small interest in Shadow.

Sonic is clearly interested in Amy, and if you pay attention, he has been for a long time. What he's not interested in is marriage- at least, not yet. And Amy is clearly wifey material- she cooks, she takes care of people, she has a caring nature, she's protective, and she's extremely loyal. She's not someone you can use for a one-night stand, you take all of her or you risk shattering her into pieces. She's Sonic's friend, no matter what else he may feel about her, so he avoids any romantic interaction because he doesn't want to hurt his friend.

Meanwhile, Shadow is... not aro-ace, per se, I don't know what you'd call him. He can see that Amy is attractive, but so is Rouge, and Shadow has no interest in Rouge. He just isn't interested in the physical side of romance.

What I think it would take to get Shadow's attention is something deeper, an emotional or spiritual connection.

So here's the Sonamy/Shadamy love triangle scenario that I came up with:

As Amy ages, she feels her desire for male companionship growing stronger. Sonic takes little notice of it, but it doesn't escape Shadow's attention.

Somehow or other, Shadow and Amy end up alone together, probably on a mission or something. I haven't figured out the exact circumstances, but they're together for quite a while. Amy loves to talk to people and get to know them, and Shadow has a soft spot for her, so she's able to get him to talk to her about things that he's probably never told anyone before. And he knows she won't tell anyone about them, either, so he feels safe telling her.

At some point, Shadow realizes, she's done it. She's broken through his barriers, and at the same time, she's calmed the storm of emotions that he's had swirling inside him for 50-odd years. He hasn't felt such peace since... no, not even then. This is something else. He's never felt this way before, and he doesn't have the words to describe it, but he's fallen head over heels for her.

This is why he never lets his guard down, even around the people he trusts most. Because if he lets them in, even a little bit, he might let them in too far. ("Can you see all of me, walk into my mystery, step inside and hold on for dear life.")

He loses control of himself and kisses Amy.

And when he lets go, he instantly hates himself, he starts throwing his barriers back up, because... she's crying. She's crying because she liked it, and she wants more of it, but she's still so desperately in love with Sonic, and she's starting to think she'll never get it from him, so she'll accept affection from just about any man, and it's not like Shadow's unattractive, and, and, and...

So Shadow's raw and open and hurting, he knew before he said or did anything that he was going down a dangerous path, but talking to Amy felt so good he didn't want to stop. And he wants to erase what just happened like it never did. But now he has to be the one to comfort Amy, because this was his fault, Amy was just being the kind and compassionate person she always was and Shadow was an idiot for letting it get to him and making more of it than what it was and losing control. So he has to keep his barriers down for just a moment longer, just long enough to hold Amy and tell her it's not her fault, until her tears finally stop.

It leaves Shadow burning with rage, and as soon as he can, he forcefully confronts Sonic (I imagine Shadow slamming Sonic against a wall or a tree and shouting in his face 😝) and basically tells him, "Amy needs attention from a man, she wants that man to be you, but if you can't grow up and do what it takes, then I'll be more than glad to take your place."

Which scares Sonic good and proper. It's bad enough to think that he could lose Amy, anyway, but to lose her to that faker??? And it finally makes him go to Amy and (very, very awkwardly) ask her to be his girlfriend. And... I'll let y'all imagine the rest.

As for Shadow... he, quite understandably, becomes somewhat aloof towards both Sonic and Amy for a long time after that.

But Shadow's immortal, right? And there's other Amy's in the world. He doesn't have to be alone forever.

Oh, and as for why Shadow would confront Sonic instead of just taking Amy for himself: because he respects both Amy and, especially, himself far too much to do that. He knows good and well she will never be able to fully commit to anyone else as long as Sonic is still an option. If Shadow was to start dating her, she'd go along with it, but it would become a power play between him and Sonic to try to "win" Amy's affections. Shadow has no issues with fighting Sonic over just about anything, but when it comes to his own feelings, he won't stoop that low, and he's not about to hurt himself by playing such a game. I also don't think he would view Amy as "a prize to be won."