#Naturally Sonic changed again

[beeh0rnz]

The brainrot is back…brace yourself

[napstabl00k]

Those sonic prime gjinkas from my day out today

[tornado1992]

No one knows where Sonic lives.

Even in his so called world renowed hero status, there’s way too little that the general public knows about Sonic The Hedgehog, sure, they know what his favorite food is, they know the names of his friends, and they know when his birthday is, but they don’t know where is he from, how is he so fast, or what is his reason to fight.

They know about most of the times he has saved the world, but they don’t know why his shoes don’t get burned by his speed, they know he can turn into a god-like glowy golden being, but they don’t know how exactly the magical jewels that do that work, they know he’s unstoppable, but they don’t know why.

Most people don’t care that much about that kind of information, even if he’s a hero, that’s his own business, even heroes need privacy; but then there’s the curiosity, the enigma, the mystery, most of those questions will be left without a solid answer, but there’s a few that should have definitive one.

Where does someone who can run around the whole globe in a matter of hours live? There’s a lot of theories.

Sonic has enough fame to have several fan clubs all around the world, and between all those fan clubs there’s been a lingering interest in the enigma of where does sonic live, between all the other questions this one is the one that gets the most possible answers, considering factors like his speed, his well known crave for adventure, his love for nature, all of it could make the difference between the right answer and the wrong answer.

At certain point, the curiosity reaches to more general public apart from the fanatism prone, and when in opportunity to talk to him, a lot of people start asking him the same question: “where do you live?” the answers all equal and all different at the same time “right here in the same world as you” “it varies from time to time” “I don’t think you could visit me”

The vagueness, the confusing contradictions, the evasion of the subject; he’s doing this on purpose. They might not know a lot about the blue speedster, but now this sole data needs to be known.

They start asking Sonic’s acquaintances instead of the hedgehog himself, they know they’re not getting an answer out of him at this point, and if anyone could have one, his friends should know it. Turns out that they don’t know.

Most of his friends being more annoyed with the fact that not even they know where he lives than about the people sticking their noses to his friend’s business was a surprise to the masses, and underwhelming, backtracking, frustrating surprise.

There’s an anonymous user online who affirms that not even the hedgehog’s arch nemesis knows where Sonic lives. Reliable sources support the statement.

The waters of nonsense gossip calm down after some time, but the question still remains, left to be more of general curiosity than lingering mystery.

A random day in a random town, a news program happens to be live outside when the speedster passes by and stops to smell the flowers around the area, the reporters ask him for a small interview, he says they have till he finishes picking up enough flowers for a crown.

They ask the same question everyone has asked for quite some time, just a different word, “Sonic, where is your home?”

Apparently the accidental rephrasing change is what finally gets it, as the speedster just says “right now? should be at mystic ruins”

He runs off immediately, the reporters left speechless, the program still on air on TV’s and the web, and the world going wild.

They finally got a straight, solid, specific answer. “That can’t be true” “but it can” “it’s logical” “it’s not” “he must’ve been joking” “he sounded serious” and more and more discussions take place around that single interview, the fan clubs are theorizing again, the general public is now more curious, and the official news from all over the globe need to confirm this by themselves.

So they ask again.

A full week later, a different city in a different country, different news reporters don’t even bother to ask him for an interview, they just run to him the moment they see the blue blur pass by and ask him again “Sonic, where is your home?!” He yells his answer without stopping:

“Last time I checked was in Central City”.

“It’s a contradiction” “then he was joking before” “he might change where he lives weekly” “we need more proof” “that was way too specific again”.

A different continent, two days later, a group of kids manage to record him when he greets them from the other side of a mountain, they ask “Where is your home?!” He yells back “I’m not sure at the moment!”

The confusion only grows, now no one knows if he’s genuinely giving true answers or full ass lying, it would be logical for him to do either. The curiosity becomes a mystery again, and people are legitimately trying to track all the locations he has mentioned to find out what is this all about. Some people even try to track him down. They try.

A whole month later, there’s a celebration near sunset city, a commemoration of some sorts, there’s been a lot of battles in way too little time so people just try to think about the party rather than the motive for it. Sonic attends the celebration along some of his friends.

A local news channel manages to reach him at the chili dog stand where he is waiting for his food while talking to the two tailed fox everyone knows is his best friend. They don’t mean to interrupt, but these opportunities are limited.

They ask the same question, the same word change that they know works: “Sonic, where is your home?”

The blue blur hangs an arm around the kit’s shoulder in a half hug as he grins widely, he says loudly: “right now, it’s right here!”

This time his home was with him.

[punkitt-is-here]

please explain how a guilty gear xrd song made you transgender

Well okay. You're a 19 year old dude in College who recently drew himself in a skirt for the first time and had a startling emotional reaction to it. you flirt with being a demiboy for a bit but you're afraid of committing to the idea of being a full-on girl. What if you don't like it? What if folks reject you? Suddenly, one night, you're doing homework in the lobby of your dorm and this song comes on.

oh shit oh fuck. of course, it's full of lyrics that make absolutely zero sense, narratively and grammatically, as this is a japanese man writing in a language that is not his first. this doesn't matter though, because the singer believes so strongly that you must follow your heart and stand with pride and fight against a world that beats you down. goddamn. this changes everything. you ponder on this.

weeks later, you embark on the traditional three and a half hour drive from your college to the middle of bumfuck nowhere. it's tumultuous weather, but it's also beautiful in its chaos. You are going 70 miles per hour and surrounded by gorgeous open fields and dense, snowy mountains. suddenly, Big Blast Sonic comes on again. Oh fuck yeah. You've been listening to this for weeks. You've memorized the lyrics. And the best thing you just recently discovered about metal? You don't even have to be a good singer to belt along to the lyrics. In an environment that's just you and the open road, no one to hear your cry, just the spectacular visage of chaotic nature around you, you belt out the broken English lyrics to a song from a game you've never played

Get down to rock! Get up to burn! Stand with your pride! Never fear your desire!

and you think to yourself, hey, man, i really CAN pull off this transgender thing. let's fuckin do it.

So that's a rough approximation about how Guilty Gear Xrd turned me trans. It wasn't like, the whole reason, but it did play a significant part in my acceptance of the idea and embracing The True Self TM. Guilty Gear fucking rocks and I got into Strive a couple years later because of the music alone. Get down to rock, folks!!!!!!!!!!

[metamyweek]

Metamy Week 2024 Announcement!!!!!!!!

Hello everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hope everyone had or will have a great day!

We've been awaiting this day all year! Metamy (Metal Sonic x Amy Rose pairing) will have a ship week this year!

The dates for the week are: 9.09 - 15.09!

Decided to move the date a bit earlier so the ship week will be it's own thing for this year.

The themes for the week are:

Day 1 - Dream Day 2 - Protection / Decay Day 3 - Change Day 4 - Olympics / Memory Day 5 - Movie Day 6 - Fashion / Nature Day 7 - Night

Again, the themes are vague on purpose but the days are still limited with their theme. This makes it so there could be many ideas all based on that theme.

You can combine themes for days with multiple themes, create separate drawings and such for both or only choose a single theme. It's a challenge combining them but it's possible and makes fun stuff!

The tag for the week is #metamyweek2024

The week will be happening on the metamy discord server and twitter as well! I will be reblogging and retweeting every single post made for the week!

On discord you will be able to post your works when the week starts on the #/metamy-week-2024 channel! You can join the server here!

On twitter I'll retweet with my account (@/Metalikk1)

And remember! Have fun! Let's have some fun for the week!

[rainychaoloveshack]

AAAAA—

I’ve been searching for Sonic x reader req’s…

can I ask for a Shadow x reader where both were experiments for Maria’s cure? Where Shadow had a slight hatred and annoyance towards them because at times Maria would give time for them to hang out. Then blah blah blah after her death and the fall of the ark. He sees them again where they have a flower shop now, then finally after years Shadow gives in to apologize as he realizes he’s not the only one who mourns for Maria.

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

it’s been years since you saw his face, and even longer since you’ve seen hers.

⋆°•☁︎ content . shadow x gn!reader, angst, so so so many mentiona of the word “flower” (it’ll drive you insane) warning. brief mentions of vomit.

☂︎ wc. 1.8k ☂︎ a/n. huehehe flowers go brrrrr. i got kinddd of experimental with this one and tried to branch out more emotionally. i hope you like it ^^ wouldve wrote in some more but i didnt want it to be too long… my fault :( i just love angst lol

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

“[Name], ah, this is really, really cool!” Her fingers weave the stems together like a beautiful melody, overlapping with one another to form a gorgeous pattern in her palms. “When you were learning this at first, you should’ve told me! I could’ve learned it with you!” She gives you a fake little pout, soon to be replaced by her ever-shining smile. “Now I can make you and Grandpa flower crowns all the time! Though, I don't think he’ll wear them…”

And you can’t wait for the moment that she hands you one of her own, one made on her own time, with no assistance from your end. A true testament of her love for you; one you would never doubt, gift or not.

Paired with your hydrangeas and carnations, roses and daffodils. Every little flower at your fingertips; ones you thought she would adore. Put and grown with love right on the Ark, with the help of Professor Gerald. The fact that you had decided to cultivate life on the Ark caught his attention, and it might’ve not been possible without his assistance with your little hobby. Your garden wasn’t just that, though. It wasn’t a simple piece of eye candy for passersbys; they weren’t allowed to take a single step in it.

It was for flower crowns; something you had learned just to impress her. A secret hobby, just for the two of you to play around with. No one else.

Not even Shadow.

“Oh, and I can make some for Shadow too!” Her fingers graze over the petals on her newly made crown, a mixture of light blue flowers and red ones, along with your favorite color. Three colors mingled into one beautiful piece.

Shadow… You haven’t seen him for a while.

Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you two had always been competing for her attention, her love, but she had managed to share it between the two of you. Was it greedy of both of you to ask that from her? Her saccharine self? It’s not like you’ll ever know the answer now.

You’ve never gotten along with Shadow, despite you two coming from the same origin. Natural competitors. But neither of you had ever engaged in any sort of conflict directly, maybe a snide remark or two from him but that would be all. Most of the hatred was from him. Deep down, you know you wouldn’t be opposed to being his friend.

So why does he look at you so harshly?

… It doesn’t matter. As long as you can act as her medicine, her cure, helping her heal from both her illness and what bothers her, that's good enough for you.

It’s been fifty years. Fifty years. You don’t want to remember the specifics, but it’s been more than that now. A couple of years of change, you’re sure.

Your left hand clasps over your right, your fingertips rubbing over your knuckles slowly. Everywhere you look, it’s her. Every flower in your shop; it’s almost like you can see a glimpse of her figure and face through the petals.

Hydrangeas. Carnations. Roses. Daffodils. Every little flower at your fingertips; ones you knew she adored. Grown with your everlasting love for that girl clad in blue; remembering the click of her heels as she would run over to you with a new crown in hand. You wish you could’ve kept each one she gave you, even if they would’ve all wilted by now. Wilted flowers have their own kind of beauty in a way, but maybe it’s only you who sees it.

Remembrance is an aching feeling. Swirling around in your stomach, at times even threatening to spill out of your mouth in the form of vomit and puke. Pouring itself out of your body through tears and bile. And no matter how hard you try, it seems to stay present. Even after all these years.

Before that emotion fills your mouth again, the sound of the bell rips you from your thoughts, the door swinging open. You swirl your body around, putting on a smile to greet your new customer. It’ll be another day, just like the last one.

… What?

“It’s you.” He says, clearly in disbelief at the person he’s seeing, just over the counter. “Hmph. So that idiot was right.”

Is… Is that him? Him?

Shadow?

“Are you in shock that I’m still alive?” Not at all, no. But the words don’t pour out of your mouth, instead letting out shaky breaths as he looks around your humble flower shop; similar to how one would gaze at a picture frame of an old family member. Solemn. Melancholic. 

“I’m not here for some stupid greeting. I came for… A bouquet.” He almost seems uncertain about his reasoning. Even after seeing you, he doesn’t look angry. Not even surprised. Curious? You had heard his name throughout the years, but to meet him not anywhere else, but here, now.

Remembrance is an aching feeling.

“Those.” He points to a bunch of delphinium together, a light, bright blue. “And these.” His fingers graze over a dark red bunch of roses, his ear twitching at the sound of your immediate shuffling, going for the delphinium first. Something’s telling you in your heart to not get so close to him. It’s the aching; you’re sure of it.

Naturally you would question why he would need such a bouquet, but it’s not your place to wonder in that manner, especially now. Just do your job and go.

Shadow stares at a certain flower you keep away from the door, away from prying eyes, but still on sale for people to take.

You keep it away on purpose.; those kinds of flowers are your favorite ones. Sometimes if work is slow for a peculiar day, you’ll get lost within the petals, tracing over every groove of the plant, and even the stem itself, taking note of the way they feel under your fingertips.

“These too.” His footsteps almost echo through the store; or is it your imagination weighing heavy on you? Your head turns to see he’s going up to your favorite flower, picking one up by its stem to twirl it over between his fingertips, before dropping it back down. As you make your way over, he seems to notice and backs away from you, retreating to the counter. So even he doesn’t want to chat.

Fine with you. If he hadn’t bothered to come by all of these years, why did you expect him to care? But there’s a back thought in your head, telling you you’re lying about those statements of yours.

No matter.

As you pick up your favorites from its spot, settling a couple into the growing bouquet, you finally notice the mixture of flowers. How important they all are.

Delphinium. Roses. Your favorite.

These are the ones Maria always made flower crowns with.

You hesitate on looking his way, already noticing his gaze stuck on your back, so you keep picking the flowers up, settling them snugly into the bouquet in a sort of pattern.

“I’d like some bits of chrysanthemums in there too.” He suddenly mutters, and you comply with his request, making your way back over to the counter afterward.

The chrysanthemums are a bright yellow, reminding you of the way her blonde hair flowed, mingled with the colors of whatever crown you had made her at the time. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had begged Professor Gerald for a way to preserve them. Thinking about such a thing is so melancholic.

 You take the time to wrap a red ribbon around the neck of the bouquet, securing it with a bow to make it more presentable, but knowing Shadow, if he’s any bit of the man he used to be all those years ago, you assume that these blossoms would be going into a vase anyway. He’s not the type of person to leave a bouquet out, is he?

While you mutter the price under your breath, Shadow slips out the exact amount onto the counter, his motions swift. He outstretches his hands, not a single change in expression as he accepts the flowers, then settles them into his arm, hugging it close to his torso. He wants to get this over with; you can tell.

The silence between you two is unbearable. Would it cause that much harm to ask about his flower choices? Why the ones she-

“Yes, Maria liked these ones.” Shadow utters, his fingers brushing across the delphinium. His brows furrow, remembering bits and pieces of both of your pasts together. “She always made those flower crowns with you.”

Of course, he will mention her; how could you be so stupid? 

“She made some with me a handful of times.” Shadow says plainly, clearly not enjoying looking back on those memories. Not that he would mind if it was just him and Maria, but that activity was plagued with you. His own thoughts of you. After all of these years. “I think she preferred to make them with you.” He scoffs. “Said it was your special hobby together. I never cared for your hobby.”

You bite your tongue but decide not to say anything as the seconds pass with silence. Suddenly, a deep sigh leaves his lips, your little flower shop falling still with his sudden change in demeanor. The way his shoulders fall, with his head hung low, not daring to look you in the eyes with a small flick of his ear in your direction.

“I’m sorry.” Shadow murmurs. “For all this time I thought of you as just a nuisance.” He shakes his head, pushing up against the counter with his free hand. “But she wouldn’t want me to think of you that way… I don’t want that for myself either.” 

Shadow tosses a crisp fifty on the counter along with his still-present payment; clearly overspending for his single bouquet. “Goodbye.”

Your fingers press nervously into the table, nails scratching at wood, eyes plastered onto his distancing figure as he walks away, bouquet in his arm.

Say something. Anything.

His footsteps slowly die out, turning around slightly to meet your eye. “What was that?” Shadow cocks his head to the side, eyes widened slightly, clearly in shock at your goodbye. 

It’s customary for business owners to want their customers to come back. Repeated business means more profit. More money to tend to your shop. More happy customers. More smiles. More flowers. Her flowers. A way to remember her by.

Maria.

So it’s as simple as that.

Please come again.

A small grumble rises from his throat as he turns away from you. “I’m gonna ask for the same thing next time, okay? Remember it.” Shadow doesn’t let you get another word out, as the bell chimes above him, pushing open the door to leave you standing there in awe.

That remembrance doesn’t ache as bad anymore.

[thankskenpenders]

Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #1: DYAD

(also on spotify!)

Hello everyone!! It's been a couple weeks and change since Constant Companions, my newest album, was released unto the world, and I've been genuinely blown away by the response. Genuinely, thank you to everyone who's been streaming, commenting, making mashups, changing their pfps and usernames - it means the world to me!

I wanted to give some of that love back with something people have been asking me a lot about - and, admittedly, something I love doing. Song explanations! Deep dives! Dropping the lore! Welcome... to the Constant Companions Closeups...

For the next eleven days, I'll be going into each track one by one and babbling about the process, inspiration, details, feelings, and thoughts behind each one! We're getting sappy. We're bearing our hearts. We're telling unfunny jokes. And we're starting with track one - DYAD (featuring unit.0)!

---

Naturally, since this is the first track, it also serves as a great point to talk about my intention with this album as a whole!

I'll elaborate more on this with future tracks, but to me, there are really two main things that define the sonic progression of this album versus my previous work - guitars and vocal synths. Obviously, these things have been present in my work since I first started calling myself Jamie Paige, but Constant Companions is intended to be my overwrought, sappy confession of love to these two things that time and time again have made me simply want to make music. I love rock and I love Hatsune Miku dammit!!!

I had originally written this song in February of 2023 for a game-jam-esque online festival hosted by my friend Loni called HAPPY PARTY TRI, and at that time, I had found myself at a major crossroads. I had put out People Posture Play Pretend and :women_wrestling: the previous year, and while the response was nice, I was feeling listless and lost.

I love singing. I like my voice well enough. I certainly love writing music with lyrics!! But... there was something uniquely electrifying about using vocal synths. Amidst a lot of insecurity and emotional turmoil surrounding the process of making art and putting myself out into the world, it was one of the few things that just made everything feel right. Suddenly, I was making the same kind of music that had touched my heart so many times over.

Would it alienate people, though? Would I lose longtime listeners? Yes, that weighed on my mind more than I'd like to admit, but even more than that... I was worried I'd lose some part of myself, as silly as it sounds. Maybe what I thought was a bridge would become a barrier, and the messages I wanted to send across the gap would never find their way.

Ultimately, I felt that Dyad was the only kind of opener I could've possibly given this album, and a perfect fit for the album's motif. A dialogue between myself, stricken with loneliness and a lack of inertia running in circles, and that synthesized voice (ANRI Arcane my darling), grabbing the outstretched hand and asking a question I already know the answer to -

"Baby, do you know what you wanna hear?"

Yes, it's a love song, but it's not just for a person - it's a love song for the creative impulse, and for the places I wanted it to take me.

im resisting the urge to be jokingly dismissive of myself to diffuse tension but i still need to signal that the emotionally bare part of this is over so pretend im doing a funny little dance Anyways let's talk more technical stuff

---

Like many of my songs, Dyad came together from a patchwork of different snippets and ideas I had laying around. The back half of the chorus - "dream together, we can dream together" - originally came from this idea I had jotted down something like 9 months prior, but ended up being a perfect fit for Dyad in basically every way. The verse snippet that I'd written to go with it got reused for a later song on Constant Companions as well! (I say without naming it, as if it isn't literally lifted wholesale from this demo and thus incredibly obvious)

I wasn't originally planning on brazenly quoting the bridge of a Tally Hall song when I set out to write this song, but while toying around with a bridge idea involving a shortened version of the pre-chorus melody, I realized I had inadvertently copied it anyways. I was going to scrap it... but at the request of my dear friend and certified Tally Hall lover Marcy Nabors, I made it an explicit reference. Which I'm fine with, personally! The first CD I ever owned was a copy of Marvin's Marvelous Mechanical Museum my sister bought me all the way back in 2006 - You can pry that sentimental attachment from my cold, dead hands, TikTok kiddies.

Lastly - not really behind the scenes so much as just a shoutout - thank you to unit.0 for the lovely lead guitar work on this song!! He's been a beloved collaborator of mine for many, many years now, and one of the people who ultimately convinced me this direction was the right one to go in, so it means a lot to share this song with him. Go listen to his music!!! Now!!!!!!

That's about it for this song! Not to sound like a fucking YouTuber, but genuinely, if there are any details you'd like to hear more about, let me know and I might made a bonus post at the end of all this. Otherwise, thank you for listening! Tomorrow: Not Quite There, featuring telebasher!

❤️💚

[howtofightwrite]

I've got a world-building/combat question. I have these two warring nations in my setting, both medieval-ish tech levels. One of them figures out how to make magical flying craft that are basically WWI airplanes. The other country invents dragon riders in response. Since then, they've been at war for ~60 years. I'm trying to figure out how the heck an air force would alter medieval combat strategies. If you've any suggestions, I'd appreciate it

The first, and biggest world building problem is that magic is part of your overall tech level. Ironically, Diskworld is an excellent example of how magical technology can basically function as an alternate path for social and technical development, though, honestly, a lot of high-magic settings tend to have tech leakage from magic.

One of the more common examples that comes to mind are “magical radios.” Either it's an enchanted device that allows person to person communication, or it's direct telepathic communication, but whatever it is, it serves a fundamentally similar role to a handheld radio, or (depending on how it works) a phone. The thing is, it's functionally a magical replacement, and it would affect society in much the same way those technologies have.

This is a long way to say, if your magical combat technology has WWI-grade planes, there is a very real possibility that a lot of your warfare is also going to be at a similar magi-tech level, if not more advanced. Having written that, I'm reminded of The Red Star comic series; though, that has a heavy Soviet aesthetic, and is not-at-all medieval.

Again, it doesn't really matter if you have fully-automatic firearms, or if you have a bolt thrower that conjures and propels crystals at hyper-sonic speeds into your foes. If they have a similar rate of fire, and similar accuracy, the meaningful change is texture. Your characters might see tiny crystal fragments shattered on the floor, or embedded into walls, instead of bullet holes. There may be no smell, or conjuring the crystals might leave a different odor. A handheld lightning projector might leave scorch marks, and a scent of ozone, for instance.

Magic might also factor into armor and defenses. If you can use a magical ward to dispel conjured objects, that might be extremely useful for fortifying specific targets against incoming conjured attacks, but it would likely be wholly ineffective against the lightning projector, or some other kind of directed energy beam weapon.

“Inventing,” dragon riding as a response to someone else making a magical airship, does strike me as an odd cause-and-effect. If dragon riding was that easy, it would seem likely that someone would have militarized them long before that point. Inventing flying objects that could function as a hard counter to dragons feels a little more natural. Or, magical, AA installations. Though, this is something that could probably be finessed, if you're really committed to the setup. It's also worth remembering that air superiority is an extremely potent advantage, even if you're not sure what to do with it, meaning that if one side suddenly had fliers, and the other side couldn't come up with a counter in short order, they'd be picked apart, and the war wouldn't have this 60 year timescale.

If it seems like I went to ranged weapons very quickly, there's a simple reason. You can't joust from a plane. Your options are to either propel objects at people, or drop things on them from above. Dragons also (usually) have the option to breathe fire on them. Now, firearms did exist in the late medieval era. So, that's not that far out of range. I'm less sure of the invention of bombs. At least, of the variety you could deliver to your enemy on the battlefield. Though, it occurs to me, you could probably use a catapult or trebuchet to deliver an explosive payload, if the explosives were stable enough to survive launch, but sensitive enough to detonate on impact. (Of course, if you have some kind of magically primed explosive, that stays stable until it is ejected from the catapult, and then explodes on impact, that would work.)

Looping back to the timescale again, this would require some pretty potent defensive capabilities. A dragon, with the ability to breathe fire, and the capacity for strategic thinking, could easily starve out an entire kingdom, simply by making a habit of torching all the cropland it could find. It doesn't, particularly matter if it gets all the food, so long as it torches a meaningful percentage of the available crops. When you have farmers going hungry, you're going to see food production dipping, exacerbating the problem. When you have soldiers going hungry, they're not going to be able to fight as effectively. When you have the peasantry going hungry, you're going to see civil unrest, and probably rebellions coming for their lord's head. You can't wage a war against a hostile nation under those circumstances. (In fact, there were multiple peasant revolts during the Hundred Years War, which basically stalled out France's ability to fight. England also suffered multiple peasant uprisings at roughly the same time. Though, those were motivated by taxation, which ends in a similar place.)

A related concept that's somewhat hinted above, is that wars are expensive, and both France and England found themselves facing uprisings because of taxation needed to support the ongoing war. (The irony being that both nations encountered this at roughly the same point in history. Roughly 40 years into the war.) A war that's been going for 60 years will likely have ravaged the economies of the involved nations. This isn't necessarily something that your characters would be aware of, unless you expand the context to show non-wartime economies.

The simplest explanation for why this happens is that any money you spend prosecuting the war are products that you never see returning value from. The money itself doesn't leave the economy, but the natural resources, and labor required, are expended non-productively (from the perspective of economic growth.) So, if you have a peacetime merchant, they're moving money around, but they're paying for their goods, and then those goods are going to consumers, who may also be contributing to economic activity with those goods (this even applies for food, you can think of that as a necessary component to any productive activity.) If you're a wartime merchant, selling weapons to the military, you are contributing to economic activity when you buy the weapons, but when they're sold to the crown, that's no longer productive. Those weapons leave the economy and never return. Worse, any soldiers who are permanently wounded, or killed, are also removed from the economy. Over time, this can destroy the most prosperous of nations. (To be clear, this is more advanced economic analysis than anyone in the middle ages would have had. So, the idea that wars are expensive was understood, but the exact reasons it slowed the economy were not.) And, this kind of thinking is another form of technological advancement. Ideas for understanding complex systems have become more intricate and detailed over time. While it's not the concept of, “invention,” that you might be used to, it is a similar form of progress.

So, how would this look in your world? There's a lot of potential consequences, most of which are not contradictory.

An impoverished lower-class is very likely. Whether that includes wounded veterans or not is a little more up in the air, though after 60 years, military pensioners, and those who suffered life-altering injuries on the battlefield are likely to be a common sight, either on the street or in the poverty line. (Especially if the crown is willing to enforce drafts and conscription.) At this point, that might be a very real possibility.

A struggling aristocracy is also likely, with former major power players who've declined into poverty. This might take the form of borderline abandoned estates that have been taken over by the crown or squatters. (Probably not both at the same time.)

Serious inflation is likely (and could be why formerly stable guild members, merchants, and even some of the aristocracy might now find themselves struggling.) I realize this point isn't something most really think of when you're trying to write a fantasy world, but it's worth considering. More likely this will be seen in food prices having increased over time. So the major symptoms you'd likely see would be decaying structures that no one has the resources to maintain, rising food prices, and generalized poverty. Even in a fairly magically advanced setting, a lot of these things would, likely, still happen. Of course, if the dragons have been used to destroy the agricultural base, things would be even worse in that nation. To be clear, food and taxation riots are not off the table there.

This is sort of a non-sequitur, but if you have a setting with classic transmutation (lead, or other base metals, into gold), you would actually see inflation with every batch of transmuted gold hitting the market. It's sort of an amusing note on the fantasy of being able to produce as much money as you want, but ultimately, it's actually harmful from a macroeconomic perspective. (Basically, the same reason counterfeiting is a problem.) Though, it is a possible hook for criminal groups in one of those nations, producing counterfeit gold via transmutation.

There's also a real world example from 2020, where a jewelry company had fabricated “fake,” gold bars as collateral to secure loans. In total, they claimed to have 83 tons of gold used to obtain loans worth over 2.8 billion dollars, from 14 different creditors. Except, when they defaulted on those loans, and were forced to hand over the gold, it was discovered that these were in fact gold plated copper bars.

I realize the question was about the flying forces specifically, but so long as that advantage is dealt with quickly, and neither side is able to monopolize air superiority, that's not going to change nearly as much as having that level of magical advancement would on its own, and of course, the general consequences of having a war that's been going on for long enough that multiple generations have died on the battlefield. That's going to a bigger effect on your world as a whole.

-Starke

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[pianokantzart]

My Theory on Pachacamac and The Iblis Trigger

There is talk about how much they changed Pachacamac from a warmongering, power hungry tribal leader, to a goofy grandpa figure, but I think the truth of Pachacamac's nature might be somewhere between the two interpretations. Despite his friendliness, you can't forget he did lead a clan that wiped out the owls with a singleminded focus on capturing Sonic and reclaiming The Master Emerald. Pachacamac, now a ghost, has visited Knuckles to tell him he needs to expand his tribe. There are no other echidnas left, so he asks the sole survivor to take on an apprentice. "Show him our customs, teach him our traditions, and soon our tribe will grow once again."

There is no acceptance or acknowledgement of the fact that the clan's current situation is the result of a bloody feud and the destruction of an entire race besides their own. There is also, unsettlingly, no acknowledgement of Tails, Sonic, or The Wachowskis as members of Knuckles' clan.

While there are questionable elements to Pachacamac's approach, his motivations are at least understandable. Knuckles is a minority– the last of his tribe and the only surviving member of his species, so of course his old chief wants to see their traditions and culture preserved.

Things only get really weird when Pachacamac takes hold of Wade– Knuckles' apprentice and the soon-to-be new addition to their clan–and rewrites history. Rather than the tale of a lone owl that the echidnas hunted down in a quest for power, the story is instead of an entire flock of owls that were the aggressors, killing off Knuckles' tribe and burning down his village for no reason other than for the sake of the slaughter.

Similarly, Knuckles isn't described as a lost child left behind, but a fellow warrior who battled alongside his father until the bitter end.

So, knowing that Pachacamac's version of events is wrought with lies leads to one very serious question: What is the true story of Knuckles' battle with Iblis? If there's one thing we know about The Echidna Clan, it's that they are fixated on raw power. They're a warrior-focused society where the best fighter gets the highest honor and the most privileges. They were the ones who crafted The Master Emerald from the seven chaos emeralds. They were the ones who tracked down Sonic when he was a child with the intention of obtaining his power, before Long Claw wiped them out in her final struggle.

And who else do we know that was accidentally unleashed in a reckless pursuit of power?

Iblis, the raw power of the sun god Solaris. Iblis, who was sealed away within a child using the power of the chaos emeralds.

Now, there's no doubt that "The Flames of Disaster" in the SCU are very different from "The Flames of Disaster" in Sonic 06. In the movie universe the flames are merely a type of wieldable power rather than the name of an apocalyptic event. However... what better way to rewrite the fact that the echidna tribe nearly caused the end of the world and locked an immortal fire demon within an echidna child, than by pretending that The Flames of Disaster is just an inherent ability Knuckles unlocked through an epic battle?

What if "The Flames of Disaster" wasn't a power he obtained through a magnificent fight, but a power he survived after it was thrusted upon him by his elders? ... What if one of the many, many reasons reasons his father didn't let him join the fight was out of fear of what would happen if he cried?

[vampyrixdarling]

— 「𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓」

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ [Yandere] Sonic the Hedgehog x reader

: ̗̀➛ synopsis; You reunited with your best friend, Sonic, only he’s one of the infected. But he isn't attacking you. Instead, he only seems to be after your affection.

: ̗̀➛ Type; Romantic headcanons [Zombie AU]

: ̗̀➛ warning(s); yandere behavior, gore, manipulation.

Likes/Reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

→ Taking a step back, you couldn't break the eye contact shared between you two. Eyes wide and breathing heavy, you wanted to scream- to run away from the horror in front of you, but you couldn't bring yourself to. You were frozen in place, and there was a lump in your throat. Your throat was starting to hurt.

→ All he could do was stare back blankly at you, and if you looked deep enough in those dead, grey eyes of his, you could see a spark of who he was before. A spark of your friend. Or at least that's what you wanted to see. All attempts of getting away were met with him limping closer. But he wasn't running. He wasn't trying to kill you, and you weren't sure how to feel about that.

→ You didn't know what hurt more. Seeing your best friend right in front of you as one of the infected, or the pain of knowing that if Sonic was gone, you might as well give up all hope of a better future—as well as a cure.

→ The smell of rotting flesh greeted your nose as you couldn't help but make a face of disgust. Tears pricked your eyes as you took in his appearance. His flesh was slowly rotting away, parts of his rib cage visible. He let out a whine, his voice dried and hoarse as he took another step towards you. He reached a hand out towards you, as if to tell you to take it, but you refused, shaking your head and finally managing to say something.

"Sonic?"

→ He groaned again, a faint change of voice, which only made you more confused. You thought for a moment, that if Sonic could've smiled, he would've. And taking a risk, you stepped towards him. He didn't say anything, the silence quickly becoming deafening. Although, you weren't sure if you could say anything if you tried. You weren't sure what was happening. Normally, the infected wouldn't waste a second in tackling you, digging what was left of their teeth into your throat as they feasted, trying to please a hunger that could never be satisfied. So why wasn't Sonic doing the same?

→ After that whole situation was finished and dealt with, and you deemed that maybe Sonic wasn't as much as a threat as you thought, he wasted no time in following you. It's almost as if nothing has changed, like you two were hanging out and laughing like before. Except nobody was laughing, and he wasn't alive. Not anymore, at least. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't unnerving having the mutilated corpse of your former best friend following you around, but something in you thanked whatever god there was left that you weren't alone anymore. That if you were to die, at least you'd die with your friend.

→ Eventually, you decided to try to communicate with him. You'd ask him a question, and he'd look at you and tilt his head. Almost as if as soon as you opened your mouth to speak he just zoned out. Just like he did before. Sure he's groan and whine, those were the only noises you've heard come from him lately, but you never really had a solid way to communicate with him.

→ It wasn't long until the peace and quiet you two shared was interrupted. You didn't know how, or why, but Sonic began to act differently around you. He became more needy, more desperate for any attention he could drain out of you. He started to try to get more physical, such as hugging you and trying to hold your hand. This contradicted the hedgehogs usual nature. He's always been known to tolerate physical affection only briefly, before politely asking you to stop. But not this time.

→ When his attempts of getting closer to you are either ignored or shut down, he began to grow impatient as he kept trying. But the more you turned him down, the more desperate he became. If you tried to separate from him or in the case that someone tried separating you from him, the hedgehog would grow angry and irritated, growling and opting to throw a fit. He never resorted to violence, thankfully, but somehow his growls were more terrifying. You've never heard them before.

→ But you wouldn't be lying if you said, as terrifying as this all was, that you weren't at least a little bit interested in where this could go. He was intensely dependant on you, never leaving your side and never wanting you in harms way.

→ In the case you submitted and let him hug you, despite the sour smell that made you want to vomit, he'd be happy and cheerful, as if his previous meltdown didn't happen, nor did it matter. But something about your friend getting satisfaction from you coming back to him and giving him what he wanted made your stomach turn, but you tried convincing yourself that you were just overreacting.

→ As you two sat down on the grass of a forest, your back against a tree as you dug through your backpack, you pulled out a photo. It was you, Sonic, and Tails. You sighed, running a thumb over Tails' face. You never found out about what happened to the little fox. But looking at Sonic, and the rest of the world, you could make a pretty good guess. Did Sonic know? Was he there? Knowing him, he probably sacrificed his life for his little brother.

→ This gave you an idea. Another test of yours. Hesitating for a moment, you snapped your fingers. Sonic's head snapped to look at you, with that same blank stare. You swallowed, putting the photo in front of him, on the grass.

"Look," you said, sliding the photo towards him on the ground. "Do you remember?"

→ He stared at the photo for a few minutes, before letting out a whine, slowly lifting his finger and putting it on the photo, on top of Tails. A part of you felt terrible, showing him a photo of a distant memory, of someone long gone. But another part needed to know. If he can feel joy, and anger, can he feel grief?

→ He took his hand off, staring blankly again. You couldn't tell if he didn't care, or if he lost all interest in something that wasn't related to you. Which, after his eyes drifted to the photo of you, his eyes were fixed on it. Maybe you could try again another time, but for now, your experiment was unsuccessful. But you still didn't have a solid answer as to why he acted this way towards you. And maybe you never would. But, possessive undead best friend or not, he was still here with you. And that's all you could ask for.

[piko-power]

My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)

When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.

She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.

She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.

She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.

...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.

Remember this line?

You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:

Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?

...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)

As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.

She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.

I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.

...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.

I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.

And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.

She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.

During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.

She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.

But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.

Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.

...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?

But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.

If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.

I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.

She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.

Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.

So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.

She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.

For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.

She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.

But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.

If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.

But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.

He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)

She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.

He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.

Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.

They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.

None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.

It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.

Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.

She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.

She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...

She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.

I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.

How much he loves her.

And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.

Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.

It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.

She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.

I feel like this moment here...

-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.

Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.

And it's all thanks to Sonic.

If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.

Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.

He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.

Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.

Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.

They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.

"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[danshive]

Towels Are Illogical

A Star Trek: Lower Decks fan fiction inspired by speculation about the lack of shame and modesty in the lower deck bunk corridors.

This story is tame, does not include detailed physical descriptions, and, with creative directing, could even be in an episode of Lower Decks.

Nonetheless, it has characters in casual states of total undress, and some suggestive moments.

Therefore, reader discretion is advised. Story after the “Keep Reading”.

Towels Are Illogical

By Dan Shive

Boimler’s troubles (or, at least, these specific troubles), began with the arrival of provisional officer T’Lyn.

As Boimler understood it, T’Lyn had transferred from a Vulcan vessel, and was Tendi’s “bestest science buddy”. T’Lyn didn’t look to Boimler as though she returned Tendi’s enthusiasm, but it was hard to tell with Vulcans. Boimler took Tendi’s word for it.

All of which was fine. Boimler was always happy to meet a new crewmate. He welcomed T’Lyn with open arms kept at a respectable distance.

No, the problem for Boimler was that T’Lyn turned out to be a trendsetter.

Naturally, not long after T’Lyn’s arrival, she made use of the sonic showers. As she set out to do so, however, she didn’t wrap herself in a towel. She simply undressed, stored her uniform, and started walking.

Changing clothes out in the open wasn’t unusual in the bunk corridors of the lower decks, nor was it that strange to not be in a hurry to get dressed again. 

It was not uncommon, for example, for Tendi and Rutherford to get distracted in the middle of changing, and to have lengthy conversations while remaining in various states of undress.

It was, however, unusual to leave one’s bunk while still undressed as T’Lyn had done.

Mariner, with her usual lack of a filter, caught up to T’Lyn, and walked along next to her while wearing a towel. “Whoa, whoa, T’Lyn! You’re really going decloaked?”

T’Lyn raised an eyebrow. “Why would I have a cloak?”

“Sorry, sorry, turn of phrase,” While still outgoing and assertive, Mariner was a little awkward around T’Lyn. “A towel. I meant a towel.”

“Are these not sonic showers?”

“Well, yeah, they are, but…”

“To dry oneself off is unnecessary after a sonic shower, and it is illogical for me to cover myself. I feel no physical shame. Even if I did, we are about to shower together.” With what might have been a smile, T’Lyn said “decloaking is an inevitability.”

“Yeah… Yeah! You’re right!” Mariner declared. “I don’t need this!” She boldly whipped off her towel, and flung it over her shoulder. “I mean, I’ll hang on to it for now, don’t want to leave towels lying around the corridor, but yeah!”

Aside from a distracted ensign walking into a wall, this moment had little-to-no impact on others in the lower decks. It was later, after Tendi loudly expressed agreement with T’Lyn, and declared them to be “no-towel buddies,” that the idea started to spread.

As though it were the latest fashion, lower decker after lower decker stopped bothering with towels when walking to and from the sonic showers.

Even “towel guy” was now just “guy,” though he was still referred to as “towel guy.”

Tradition is a powerful thing.

Only one ensign, Ensign Boimler, was sticking to last season’s fashion. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he meant to go to the sonic showers, but was hesitant.

Everyone else not wearing towels bothered Boimler, but not for the reasons one might expect. Boimler was not, for example, overwhelmed by the sight of his exposed crewmates.

Back at his family’s raisin vineyard, Boimler was the most eligible bachelor around. Absurdly attractive women, often in states of partial, if not total, undress, threw themselves at him.

Boimler, hyper-focused on his future in Starfleet, and lacking patience in any failure to properly raise the raisins to be, remained completely oblivious. Without even meaning to, he had formed a callous around being affected by the nudity of others.

Tendi, Mariner, Rutherford, T’Lyn, or anyone else walking around in their birthday suits wasn’t going to power Boimler’s lust above impulse.

No, what bothered Boimler was he was the only one keeping himself covered at all times.

He’d mastered changing clothes without dropping his cloak.

His towel shields were up well before the eyes of others could impact his hull.

Not even Section 31 could know the secrets of Boimler’s hips.

But now, Boimler was the only one staying covered. He felt like a coward, and cowards had no place in the captain’s chair.

“A captain wouldn’t be afraid to drop the towel,” Boimler thought to himself. “A captain wouldn’t even bring a towel! They’d sit in the captain’s chair, naked as the day they were born, and do! Their! Duty!”

Unbidden, an imagined scene of Captain Freeman bravely commanding the Cerritos in such a manner played out in Boimler’s mind.

Boimler, his face red, quickly sat down. He hurriedly thought of other things, like the Niners playing baseball in a holosuite.

As it turned out, nudity combined with competent Starfleet officers on missions actually could awaken something in Boimler.

“Bases loaded, Rom bunts…” Boimler whispered, casting away the sexy demons.

Boimler, deliberately lost in thoughts of the Niners losing at baseball, and trying to remember how baseball was played, failed to notice T’Lyn.

T’Lyn was fresh from the sonic showers, and, as per usual, not wearing a thing.

She observed Boimler. His discomfort about the towel situation had not escaped her notice. While she felt her actions logical, she knew it was her influence that had resulted in his current dilemma.

T’Lyn felt… Found it logical to help Boimler.

“May I join you, Mister Boimler?”

“EZRI ON FIRST!” Boimler blurted, bumping his head on the ceiling of his bunk as he sat up straight.

T’Lyn raised her eyebrows, her expression otherwise unchanged. “My apologies. Are you injured?”

“No, no, I’m fine! Sit, sit! What’s up?”

T’Lyn sat on the end of Boimler’s bunk closest to the viewport.

“You are uncomfortable with the idea of not covering yourself.”

“Whaaat? Why would you… Why would you think? That?” Boimler’s smile would have earned him an invite to many a Ferengi’s poker table.

T’Lyn said nothing.

“Okay, fine, yes,” Boimler admitted. “I know it’s the 24th century, and it’s illogical, but—“ T’Lyn calmly interrupted with a raised hand.

“It is logical for me to not cover myself because I do not feel discomfort in this situation. Context, however, is relevant.” In a shocking display of expressiveness, T’Lyn gestured with one arm, indicating the bunks of the lower decks.

T’Lyn then used both hands to draw attention to her own torso. “Were I in this state of undress at a meeting with the senior staff, and they were fully dressed, I would find it…”

Almost imperceptibly, T’Lyn’s head tilted, and her face scrunched the tiniest of bits. To Boimler, this somehow conveyed a shudder.

“Illogical,” T’Lyn finished. She rested her hands in her lap, their shameless, illogical gesturing for emphasis complete.

Boimler imagined himself in T’Lyn’s place in that hypothetical situation, followed by Worf catching a flying ball.

“You, Mister Boimler, are not me. You should do what is right for you,” she said, imperceptibly gentle. “Discarding your towel as an act of conformity is illogical. It is only logical if you truly wish to do so, and only if you are comfortable being uncovered.”

Boimler smiled genuinely this time. “Thank you, T’Lyn. You’re right. I think I really needed to hear that.”

T’Lyn smiled. It was barely perceptible, but it happened. “You are welcome, Mister Boimler.”

“And you know what?” Boimler said, quickly standing, “I shouldn’t be ashamed! I’m not doing this for peer pressure! I’m doing this for me! Bold Boimler!”

Boimler triumphantly cast aside his towel, standing fully exposed in the lower decks corridor, hands on his hips.

Right as Beckett Mariner, fully dressed, had turned the corner.

“NOPE,” Mariner loudly declared. Turning around, her hands raised, she quickly departed the way she came. “Nope. Nuh-uh. No way.”

Boimler felt a bit less triumphant. “Well, that was…” his hands fell from his hips as his posture slumped. “Discouraging.”

T’Lyn looked towards the parting Mariner.

“I believe she does not wish to think of you in certain ways, but does so under certain circumstances,” T’Lyn dryly hypothesized, a hint of jealously in her voice that only a Vulcan could detect.

“And what does that mean?” Boimler asked, not getting any of it.

T’Lyn stood. “Take it as a compliment, Mister Boimler.” With images dancing in her mind of a cute, flustered Mariner reacting to T’Lyn’s state of undress instead of Boimler’s, T’Lyn left to get dressed.

[tornado1992]

Post Metal Virus Sonic being so afraid to touch anyone. Not uneasy, not uncomfortable, just afraid.

Sonic hasn't ever been exactly a touchy person, but he isn't exactly a non touchy person either, he does what he wants when he wants, and touch? He didn't mind it, even if he didn't exactly seek it.

To seek touch wasn't in his priority list as much as one would think, to him it was as simple as to know that anything that reached him always had him reaching back; friends, foes, life and nature itself.

That was the naturality of it all, for there is nothing more natural than to seek the world that surrounds you. He doesn't mind touch, he thrives on it, for the world was always reaching for him as much as he was reaching for it.

That's what he used to think, then the Metal Virus happened.

A simple change in the way of the world that he always lived by, an artificial change at that, a sabotage, one that managed to turn around everything he knew about it.

He was still able to reach the world, but the world couldn't reach back if he did. And it would be his fault.

It was his fault every time he tried to run and reach for anything, anyone that could've reached back, but didn't.

So he fought it, fought agaisnt the one thing that was holding the world and everyone in it hostage. The thing that he helped spread. He fought, he ran, and he fixed it, because he had to fix it.

He fixed it so everyone could reach for each other again. So he could run and reach again, so he could feel again.

And It worked. He could run, and he could reach again, he just wasn't trying to reach at all anymore.

He's no longer giving high fives to children who manage to see him while on his runs. He refuses to stop while in the open for long enough to let any critters or flickies perch on his quills. He runs from the restoration headquarters not even a minute after getting there just to avoid talking to anyone who knows him enough to properly greet him.

He doesn't pick up wildflowers anymore. He avoids the bubbly Chaos who always cheer on him. He runs fast enough for anything that could ever get close enough to touch him to just get thrown away because of the wind itself. He subconsciously, purposely even, keeps going forward without a second of appreciation to the beautiful, alive world that he leaves behind. The world that still reaches out for him.

But how can he get away from the world itself?

The answer is always running.

His heart may just want to feel life again. But he doesn't want to take any life away, so he won't seek any, he won't reach out for any.

He can no longer afford to get on Knuckles' nerves to have a fun spar with him. He has forgotten how it felt to get the air knocked out of him by an Amy hug. And he just won't let Tails get anywhere close to reach for him.

Constantly on edge, never still, always running, that's his thing, that's his normal. Nothing else matters; Not his mind dreading the sole thought of even getting close enough to brush shoulders with anyone. Not his heart craving the feeling of warmth and life that a hug, a fist bump, or a hair ruffle could give him.

His legs itch to run, not towards something, but away from anyone.

So he keeps running.

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

New story drop!

This one is for all you Ark Sibling fans out there, especially now that Sonic X Shadow Generations is out to the public.

This one is based off one of many artworks my friend @cosmoshard did months ago and let create a story based on it.

Summary: There’s so many things that the Ultimate lifeform can handle whenever it was thrown at him at full power to take him down. He just never took note a mere child would end up being the one to break his stoic exterior.

Just another fluff filled Ark Sibling story.

======

“Ugh….” Shadow leaned his body against the wall with his eyes closed, the cool temperature of the metal seeping through his thick quills on his shoulders and back, bringing some relief to his aching limbs. He rubbed his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger, an attempt to try to keep them from shutting close.

The professor had him do some drills to test out his ever growing chaos powers, causing quite a long session to where he pushed himself a little too much for his body to handle to which he ended up passing out due to it. All he remembered was waking up and feeling his body throbbing to where he wasn't able to move for a while.

Luckily, Gerald showed some mercy and decided that it was all they needed to do for the day.

Even then, he felt like he still couldn't fully relax due to his mind still buzzing around.

Mostly due to the other testing they did prior, trying to see if his blood can be made into a cure for Maria. They still haven't found a change in the results as far as he knew, they were just the same as always with very little to say that they made a breakthrough.

But It's been almost 2 years, longer than any of them had originally predicted to find a solution.

It was frustrating to say the least, knowing he was improving on everything except for the exact reason why he was created…

What was even his purpose-?

“Shaddy!”

His ears perked up at the sudden sound of a familiar, young voice coming from his right. He turned to see the source of the voice running at him at full speed, the girl’s pigtailed hair flew out wildly behind her while her sock covered feet nearly caused her to slip on the newly polished floor. That didn't seem to faze her as she kept coming right towards him.

“Shaddy, Shaddy!”

Shadow smiled widely at her and held out his arms expectantly, to which she launched herself into his arms. He caught her with ease as she wrapped her arms and legs around him like a koala, hearing her signature twinkle-like giggles as he tightly returned the hug. Despite the girl barely coming up to his chest in height, she was barely a struggle to hold due to his natural strength.

“Oh man, you're getting heavy.” Shadow groaned feignedly, shifting both of his arms to support her small body better. “You gotta tell your grandpa to stop feeding you so much.”

The girl merely giggled, pulling her head back and giving him a wide smile. “You keep saying that, I’ve seen you lift heavy stuff before.”

“Yeah, but you're a different kind of heavy. The type where your arms can hold something one minute then the next they just give out- WHOA!” He suddenly released his arms, making Maria drop before quickly catching her before she hit the ground, causing her to scream out.

“Hehey!”

“See? I don't know why that happens.”

“You did that on purpose!” She laughed out, trying to keep a mad look on her face, breaking immediately when Shadow narrowed his eyes and smirked at her.

“That's not true,” he bounced her in his arms slightly. “I told you that sometimes my arms just give out-HA!” He fake drops her again, making the girl squeal out. “Tried to warn you.”

Maria laughs breathlessly, trying to lightly pat her hands on Shadow's face in a form of retaliation, with him moving his head back to block from the “attacks”.

“Maria!” The two were then interrupted by a shrill, panicked voice and saw that it was Allison, Maria's tutor during the day, looking stressed beyond belief. Shadow also saw that she was holding a small pair of shoes in her hand as she came near them panting with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “Ah, there you are.”

“Allison.” Shadow, slightly amused at her flustered state but fought against teasing her since she did look a bit distressed. “What happened to you?”

The woman took a sharp inhale, her gaze fixed upon the pre-schooler, who was currently distracted by playing with some of the quills on the side of Shadow’s head and paying her no mind. Immediately he knew that Maria had been the main reason, the discarded shoes being one thing, but the fact the kid was probably running around before she even saw him was too much of a coincidence.

“I was trying to keep up with her. As soon as we left the nursery, she took off like a bat outta hell-, uh heck.” She quickly corrects herself seeing Shadow raise a brow at her and Maria looking towards her with curious eyes. “I think she just wanted to see you, but I almost had to leave the other kids alone if Paula didn’t offer to watch them.”

“Ah, I see now.” He places the squirming girl down on the floor, loosely crossing his arms. Maria merely smiled up at him until she noticed his change in demeanor and pauses, slightly curling in on herself under his look of disappointment.

“Maria, you know you’re always supposed to stay with Ms. Allison whenever you’re leaving the nursery, right?” He scolded lightly, watching the girl’s shoulders hunch up at the tone of his voice.

She nodded her head slowly, finding the buttons on her shirt more interesting than looking at him. “So, why did you run off like that?”

She shrugged her shoulders and mumbled under her breath that even his ears couldn’t pick up. Sighing, Shadow got on a knee and gently raised her head up with his finger so she was looking at him. “Say that again?”

“I just wanted to see you…” She muttered, tucking her chin into the collar of her shirt.

Shadow’s sharp gaze then softened. He was still getting used to the way a child’s mind worked in comparison to an adult’s since he was around the latter majority of the time, but he was aware of how Maria’s personality functioned unlike the other kids and that was she can be stubborn as hell, which could also be mixed with determination whenever she had a goal in mind and did whatever it took to get it.

She was only four, but a quick-witted four year old at that.

And for her, it was to see him again since it had been a day or two since they last saw each other; which can feel like a lifetime for a kid her age.

“I understand that you wanted to see me, but you have to understand that you can’t run off like that without telling anyone, especially if you didn’t know where I was and was searching for me randomly.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, reassuring that he wasn’t mad at her when her face started to scrunch up and lip was quivering. “Hey, hey I’m not mad. You just got to think about that next time, okay?”

Maria nodded, wiping at her nose with her sleeve. Shadow fought back a grimace of disgust as she did and decided to help by wiping at the tears in her eyes. Seeing that she was about seconds away from actually crying her eyes out, he gently pulled her into a side hug, to which she immediately melted into, allowing her to release her emotions if she needed to.

Shadow then shifts his eye up towards Allison, who is watching the two of them with a look of adoration, as well as any of the other adults passing by and seeing the whole event, making his face flush red from the attention.

“Could you do me one more little favor?” He patted her arm, pulling back from the hug and waited for Maria to focus on him. “Can you apologize to Ms. Allison for worrying her?”

She glances over at Allison and bows her head towards her. “Sorry, Ms. Ally.” She quickly looks away bashfully, hiding her face in the crook of Shadow’s neck again.

He gave Allison an apologetic smile. “Sorry again about that.”

Allison shook her head. “No worries, I'm just glad nothing worse had happened.” She handed him Maria's previously discarded shoes. “Since you're with her, I’ll release her to you for the rest of the day, if that's alright.”

“Of course.” Even though he was allowing it due to him being trusted well enough to watch over her, he could honestly tell that she was done with watching Maria for the day.

“Thanks.” Allison said in what sounded like pure relief. Giving them both a wave, she started in a small jog down the hallway back towards the direction of the nursery.

Once she was out of sight, Shadow felt a light jostling on his hand, seeing Maria look at him, worryingly. “What's wrong?”

“Am I going to get into trouble with grandpa?” Her voice was small and in a whisper. “He told me to behave when he's not here.”

“He's not going to be mad at you.” He said reassuringly. “He may be surprised that it happened, but it'll take more than that to get him mad.”

Her eyes lit up, relief masking her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He motioned to give him her foot, putting on the shoes. “Although, I think he will be very amused hearing that you were running like a wild rabbit with no shoes on.”

Maria let out a giggle as she balanced herself against his shoulder as he helped her put on the other shoe. “I'm not a rabbit!”

“I know that, I said that you ran around like one.” He joked, quickly running his fingers under the arch of her foot, causing the girl to let out a squeal and fall back against him as she lost her balance. “You can be hyper as one too.”

“Well, you look like a hegie-hog.” She said in an attempt of sass, making Shadow huff out a laugh in response.

“It’s pronounced hedge-hog, and I know that already. Even though I’m something else entirely.” He murmured the last part to himself as he managed to get the last shoe on.

Maria happily tapped the heels of her shoes against the floor, starting to move her arms around and hum to herself, getting lost in her thoughts as she did a small uncoordinated dance.

Shadow motioned his hand out to her, to which she grabbed onto while the two walked together. She began to run in small circles while simultaneously grabbing each of Shadow’s hands as she did, who stopped her abruptly by grabbing onto her shoulders.

“And you need to be careful about running around like that, I noticed you were panting pretty hard when you saw me.” He definitely noticed her panting deeply once he held her in his arms, as if she couldn't catch her breath.

Due to her condition making her body have to work twice as hard, it made her become exhausted quicker than most kids around her age group, even if the low gravity helped with her condition to a minimum.

She gave him a sheepish smile and nodded. They continued to walk in a comfortable silence for a while, with Maria breaking it by singing a random song she made up on the spot or asking Shadow random questions, it was mostly stuff he could recall telling her in previous conversations but still answered them to satisfy her curiosity.

=======

Continuation on Ao3

[blackenedsnow]

IT'S ME AGAIN. DON'T ASK. Please don't question why I'm here, I only have drama in mind, but I have a desire for action.

Singer!reader with Bodyguard!sss(silver, sonic, shadow) team, Reader, a popular singer, was constantly giving concerts and releasing a new album every year and continuing to be popular, but she had a problem singing and performing constantly and after the concert, her voice was constantly muffled/hoarse this always got worried the bodyguards. Reader also delayed them just saying "don't be that worried about it omg..!" like shes mean girl type, Of course, the triple guards know that and they know her well, so they can't/didn't say much. In fact singing was a strength of hers, the songs she sang hooked/obsessed the people and helped them to love her even more. That's the good thing of her power. The bad thing is, if she sings a violent and scary melody or song, it becomes reality, but she didn't know it..yet.

Suddenly she got shot a few bullets in her chest while singing one of those kind of songs, but she kept singing to hide her pain, then a few minutes later of disaster and massive pain she fell to the ground and fans started or tried to help her but the other mean guards didn't let them as the fans began to curse the mean guards as a massive fight begin around them as the main triple guards came to the concert and tried to help her but she was already dying...the triple guards tried to save her as they failed and she died at the concert.

A star who is popular again after 10 years attracts the attention of 3 guards or not anymore guards they were normal hero hedgehogs again. Silver was the first to notice it, then shadow and sonic noticed too but had she changed much? İ MEAN MUCH. She has red hair, red sun-like pupils and a black tight jumpsuit. She also has a beauty mark below her right eye. After 3 hedgehogs tried and managed to get her attention at the concert, she suddenly stopped the concert and wanted to meet privately with 3 hedgehogs.

After entering her own private room she sneeringly smiled and looked at them as they really thought she was a dead popstar but she was faking her dead the whole time trying to recreate her singing power as she began to explain more and answered their question.

I leave you the back questions and the made-up story, You can say anything you want about why she's been acting dead so far..

take care of yourself! ⭐

voice of power

WARNING: Mentions of violence and injury, faked death

PAIRING: Sonic the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader, Shadow the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader, Silver the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader,

NOTE: Hey there! I’m always excited to hear your ideas and write what inspires you! I’m here for it all. :)

SUMMARY: You’re a powerful, world-famous singer with a voice that captivates and obsesses the masses, backed by an elite team of bodyguards: Sonic, Shadow, and Silver. But behind the glamour and success, there’s a price to pay.

The lights dimmed as you took center stage, basking in the deafening roar of the crowd. Their cheers, a familiar symphony of adoration, pumped through your veins like electricity. You flashed a confident smile as you gripped the microphone, your voice effortlessly weaving through the melody. Song after song, you captivated them, holding their hearts in the palm of your hand.

You were a sensation—a force of nature in the music world. No matter how many concerts you performed or albums you released, your popularity never waned. But tonight, like every other performance, the price for your talent was clear by the end.

As the final note echoed through the stadium, your voice, once powerful and sharp, had turned raspy and hoarse. You barely managed a breathy "thank you" before retreating backstage, leaving the crowd chanting your name in blissful ignorance of the strain you were under.

But your bodyguards? They knew.

Sonic was the first to greet you behind the curtain, his usual energetic smile slightly faltering when he saw the exhaustion on your face. “Another great show, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, your tone sharp but dismissive. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Silver and Shadow joined moments later, their expressions a little less carefree. Silver, always the worrier, frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your voice—”

“It’s fine!” you snapped, rolling your eyes. “God, you guys worry too much. It’s just hoarse. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Shadow, standing a bit farther back, crossed his arms, his red eyes studying you in silence. He, more than the others, had learned not to push you when you were like this. It was your way of coping after all.

Sonic glanced at Shadow, but he didn’t argue. He knew better, too. You were their responsibility, yes, but they’d learned over time how to navigate your prickly exterior. Still, the hoarseness in your voice was becoming too common to ignore, and they all knew it.

“You’ve been doing this a lot lately,” Silver muttered, glancing at the others for support. “We’re just… worried.”

You sighed dramatically, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a long sip. “Well, stop worrying. I’m fine. You guys need to chill.”

There it was—that edge in your voice, the cool dismissal. You weren’t cruel, not really, but you had a way of pushing them back whenever they got too close. You’d built walls to keep them from prying into things you didn’t want to talk about—like how drained you felt after every concert, or how your throat burned after singing. They weren’t allowed to worry about you, not if you had any say in it.

But deep down, they couldn’t help it. Because they knew you—better than anyone else.

Still, they held back, even as concern tugged at them. This was your routine. After every show, your voice would be rough, and after every show, you’d tell them not to worry. But as your bodyguards, they couldn’t just ignore it.

Sonic, Silver, and Shadow exchanged glances, silently agreeing to let it go for now. You were strong, and they respected that, but they’d seen enough to know when something wasn’t right.

“You’ve got more performances coming up,” Sonic said after a moment, rubbing the back of his head. “Just… don’t overdo it, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not some fragile little flower, you know,” you replied, shrugging him off as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I’ve got this under control.”

But they couldn’t shake the feeling that something was building, something you didn’t even realize. After all, they knew you weren’t just any singer. There was something different about you—something powerful about your voice that went beyond just captivating an audience.

And they feared that you might be playing with something you didn’t fully understand.

A few nights later, this specific night seemed perfect—just like every other concert. You were on stage, the crowd hanging on your every word, every note, just like always. The lights were bright, the music loud, and your voice—though a little strained—still commanded the room. But something felt different tonight.

The song you were performing wasn’t like your usual set. This one had a darker edge, a haunting melody that throbbed through the venue like a heartbeat. Your fans didn’t seem to mind, though. They were just as entranced as always, singing along, their faces lit with adoration.

But then, something snapped.

The first shot hit your chest before you even realized what was happening.

Pain. Sharp and all-consuming. It ripped through you, but you didn’t stop singing. You couldn’t. Your voice was your armor, your strength, and no matter what was happening, you couldn’t let the audience see you in pain. So you kept singing, your voice now layered with a hidden agony that none of them could sense—yet.

Another bullet. And another.

Your breath hitched, but the notes kept coming, your body trembling with the effort. The stage lights blurred in your vision, the sound of your voice fading under the roaring in your ears. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when all eyes were on you.

But the pain was unbearable.

It felt like your chest was on fire, the bullets lodged deep, your body betraying you. You clutched the microphone tighter, leaning into it for support as your legs began to give out. You didn’t care if it hurt. You didn’t care if—

Your knees buckled. The microphone slipped from your hand, and in a heartbeat, you hit the ground.

The crowd screamed.

Chaos erupted as the fans surged forward, trying to help you, but the security guards—a rougher, meaner bunch hired for the event—blocked their way, shoving people back. “Stay back!” they barked, their voices cold and unfeeling, as if they didn’t care that you were lying there, bleeding out in front of thousands of people.

The fans shouted, some of them screaming your name, others cursing the guards. Fists flew, and soon a full-blown riot broke out. The guards pushed back harder, forming a barrier around you as the concert dissolved into madness.

But you could barely see it anymore.

The pain was overwhelming, blurring the edges of your vision as blood pooled beneath you. The world spun, and your breath came in shallow gasps. The sounds around you—shouts, screams, the clashing of bodies—faded into the background.

Suddenly, through the haze, you saw them. Sonic, Shadow, and Silver were pushing through the chaos, their eyes locked on you. They moved fast, faster than you’d ever seen them, but it didn’t matter. You knew it was too late.

By the time they reached you, your chest was heaving, every breath a struggle. Sonic dropped to his knees beside you, his usual smile nowhere to be found. “Hey… hey, we’re here. You’re gonna be okay,” he said, though his voice wavered.

Shadow was already checking your wounds, his expression grim, while Silver hovered nearby, panic clear in his wide eyes.

But you knew. You could feel the life draining out of you, the strength that had always been there slipping through your fingers. You tried to speak, tried to tell them something—anything—but your voice was gone, replaced by a weak gurgle.

It was too late.

The world was already fading, the pain dulling as your body went cold. You could feel yourself slipping away, the noise of the concert—of the chaos—growing distant.

And then… just like that, you were gone.

Ten years had passed since the tragic night when your life was cut short on stage. The music world had mourned, and your three former bodyguards—Sonic, Shadow, and Silver—had each gone back to their roles as heroes. They tried to move on, but losing you had left a mark on each of them, a wound that never fully healed.

That was why, when Silver saw you again, standing under the bright lights of a new concert stage, his heart nearly stopped.

It wasn’t just the resemblance—it was you. He knew it, deep in his gut, despite the changes. You were different, transformed, but still undeniably you.

“Is that—” Silver muttered, wide-eyed, as he stared at the screen showing the concert.

Shadow, sitting nearby, followed Silver’s gaze. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the screen, a flicker of recognition flashing in his sharp red eyes. “It can’t be…”

But it was. Sonic, who had just walked into the room, caught sight of the broadcast and froze. “No way…” His usual carefree tone was gone, replaced by shock.

The three of them stared at the screen, watching in stunned silence as you moved across the stage, your presence commanding as always, but now with an even more magnetic pull. You hadn’t just changed physically—you were more powerful, more captivating than ever.

“I thought she was dead,” Sonic whispered, his voice barely audible.

Silver was the first to move, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. “We need to get to that concert.”

Shadow and Sonic exchanged a glance before following. They didn’t know how it was possible, but if you were back, they needed answers. And more than anything, they needed to see you again.

At the concert venue, the crowd was mesmerized by your performance. Every note you sang seemed to wrap around their minds, drawing them in deeper with every passing second. But your attention wasn’t on the audience—it was on the three familiar faces you’d spotted in the crowd.

Silver. Shadow. Sonic.

It had been years since you’d seen them, but the moment their eyes met yours, you knew it was time. You couldn’t continue the charade any longer.

Without warning, you stopped mid-song. The band fell silent, and the audience, confused and murmuring, watched as you raised a hand to signal the end of the concert.

“I want to meet three people,” you announced, your voice echoing through the venue. “Backstage. Now.”

The crowd erupted in whispers, confused but curious. The three hedgehogs were just as surprised, but they didn’t hesitate. Guided by a mix of disbelief and anticipation, they made their way backstage.

Once inside the privacy of your room, the atmosphere grew heavier. You leaned against the back of a lavish chair, your sun-like eyes gleaming with amusement as you looked over the three hedgehogs before you. For years, they had believed you were dead. The memory of that night, the blood, the chaos—it had been seared into their minds. And now here you stood, alive, and more powerful than ever.

A sneering smile curled at your lips as you crossed your arms, eyes flicking between them. “You really thought I was dead, huh?” You chuckled darkly. “You have no idea.”

Sonic’s fists clenched at his sides, confusion and shock flashing in his emerald eyes. “You died. We saw it happen. How… how are you standing here like nothing happened?”

Silver was quieter, still processing, while Shadow’s sharp gaze hadn’t left your face, his body rigid with tension as he waited for an explanation.

You straightened up, pushing off the chair and taking a slow step forward, your voice turning cold and calculated. “It was all a lie. Every single bit of it. I faked my death that night on stage.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. None of them spoke for a long moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

“Why?” Shadow asked, his voice low, almost growling. His red eyes were locked onto yours, demanding an answer.

You smiled again, this time more bitter than amused. “Because I had to. That night, when those bullets hit me, I realized something. My voice… it wasn’t just a talent. It was a weapon. A power. And I didn’t understand how to control it.” You took a deep breath, letting the gravity of your words sink in. “Every song I sang, every note I hit, could change the world around me. If I sang a sad song, the people listening would become depressed. If I sang something violent…”

Sonic flinched at the memory, recalling how the audience had descended into chaos after you were shot.

“I could have caused a disaster,” you continued, pacing slowly as you spoke. “That’s what was happening the night I ��died.’ The bullets, the riot—it wasn’t just bad luck. It was me. My voice made it happen. I sang a violent song, and it became reality.”

Silver’s eyes widened, piecing things together. “So… you faked your death to stop it? To stop hurting people?”

You nodded. “Yes. After that night, I knew I wasn’t safe to be around anyone. My powers were too unstable, too dangerous. I couldn’t risk more people getting hurt. So I disappeared. For ten years, I’ve been hiding, working on controlling my abilities, on recreating them in a way that I can harness them—without all the chaos.”

Sonic’s face was twisted with a mix of emotions, hurt and anger mixing together. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve helped you. We thought you were gone forever!”

You looked away for a moment, guilt flickering across your features before hardening again. “Because I didn’t need your help. I needed time. Alone. You wouldn’t have understood what I was trying to do. I had to figure it out on my own.”

Shadow, silent until now, stepped forward, his voice steely. “And now? What’s changed? You’ve revealed yourself again. Why?”

Your lips curled into a dark smile once more, your red eyes glowing as you met his gaze. “Because I’ve perfected it. I’ve mastered my voice. I’ve become more powerful than ever before. And now… it’s time for me to reclaim the world I left behind. I’m not the same popstar you used to protect. I’m something more.”

Silver frowned, his voice quiet but filled with concern. “But what about the danger? What if it happens again?”

You tilted your head slightly, your smile fading as you looked at him. “That’s the thing, Silver. It won’t happen again. Because now, I’m in control. I can decide who lives, who loves, who fights… and who dies.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words sinking in. You were no longer the person they once knew. You were something far more dangerous—and far more powerful.