#oh yeah woo yeah !!!!
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me when i am listening to RECONSTRUCTED BRONZE AGE LURS
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#roblox#roblox fanart#roblox guest#guest#roblox noob#noob#gif#audio#myart#they're listening to caramelldansen#oh yeah woo yeah
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ATTENTION BLAIRETTA FANS. ALL 5 OF YOU. I HAVE RE-UPLOADED MY EPIC MIDDLE SCHOOL WRITING ONTO THE ARCHIVE.
#barbie#barbie movies#barbie in the 12 dancing princesses#barbie and the magic of pegasus#barbie 12dp#blairetta#blair barbie 12dp#brietta#alphabet soup#fanfiction#writers on tumblr#ao3#oh yeah woo yeah#barbie cinematic universe
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This happened to me a moment ago, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
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The King's Shadow - Ch. 3
Rating: General
Words: 4900+ (9600+ Total)
Media: Sonic the Hedgehog, Sonic and the Black Knight
Pairing: Sonic/Lancelot (Sonic/Shadow)
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Developing Feelings, Pining, Alternate Universe - Medieval (Check AO3 for any tag changes!)
Warnings: Canon-typical violence
Chapter: 3/3
Link to the original work
AO3 Summary/Excerpt:
The other’s embarrassment slowly melted away into a resigned sigh, before turning into a smile; mischievous in appearance, but nothing short of putting the sun’s radiance to shame. And then Lancelot truly felt the carefree and trusting weight, the sheer warmth of the newly crowned king’s hand in his own.
And he knew more than ever that his life now belonged to him.
Author's Notes:
cheesus christ i think this is the first time i've ever finished a multichapter fic…….. a short one but multichapter nontheless….. dang
ANYWAY i hope you enjoy :] hope you heeded the warning at the end of ch1
THANK YOU FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOY (also thank you for 150+ kudos on ao3 that is WILD) ❤❤❤
Previous/Next
Sonic put his quill pen down with a sigh, before quickly catching his inky mistake of leaving the near-dripping calamus exposed on the expensive desk as he scrambled to place it back in the inkwell.
He leaned back into his extravagantly lush and velvety chair and stared up at the expanse of the accented wall, flourishing with delicate patterns and complemented by rich silk fabric in reds, blues, and golds. While he hadn’t tested it out for himself, the bedroom looked large enough for him to do laps in probably— no, definitely. Just by eyeballing the area, it was more than likely twice as large as Tails’ workshop.
At that name, the pang in his chest came back, harsher than ever before.
Sonic sighed again heavily, lacing his fingers behind his head and running his eyes up the wall until they hit the ceiling, right at the giant gunmetal-steel chandelier that seemed larger than his whole body. A sense of unease crawled through him every time he entered his bedroom; it was the only place where the other knights or Merlina weren’t allowed to visit, and thus, the loneliest place in the entire kingdom.
It was like the room was trying to swallow him whole; like it knew that he didn’t belong there, that he was an intruder bestowed with riches that didn’t belong to him – tearing out pages from the book of legends and rewriting himself into it.
He always believed in deciding his own fate, but… he couldn’t decide for the others unless they wanted it too. He couldn't change the course of their world like that just on a whim. Sonic smiles a little melancholy to himself, thinking about how that line of thinking was probably the most king-like thing he’s done thus far. After all, it wasn’t always about fighting bad guys around these parts, was it?
Even if the others did consent to his continued ruling, now he had a choice – to go back to his own time, to Shadow and the others, and let the people of this world decide their destiny, or he could stay with the kingdom, with Lancelot.
As he looked down at the two letters on his desk, one stamped with red and the other with gold wax, he knew his answer. A pressed violet rested soundly in one letter, while commands almost befitting of his soon-to-be-lost title as a king lay in the other.
Sonic took in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.
His gut feeling wouldn't let him down.
-x-
King Sonic had not made his nest in Avalon for very long, and yet Lancelot felt his presence permeate every inch of their lives with relative ease, making a friend out of everyone he possibly could, regardless of whether they were a peasant or noble.
Each and every townsman had felt it too, Lancelot could tell by their charmed expressions as he accompanied the king on his rounds. He’d insisted on travelling alone, putting his faith in Caliburn should anything take a turn for the worst, but his advisors were persistent. However, when Lancelot’s company was suggested to him, he was surprisingly quick to give in; one could even say that his eyes lit up, though the knight knew not to be so hopeful as to expect the king to enjoy his company above the rest. He could only hope that he didn’t greatly mind Lancelot cherishing their time together.
Even the nobles that had once upturned their noses at the new king, relented to the fact that he was indeed unique – however, that came with a hesitancy, deciding whether or not this new king would be good for their kingdom would be judged in due time, but for now, Lancelot could breathe easy knowing they trusted him for the time being.
But still… what if the rumours were true?
Lancelot’s stomach churned at the mere thought.
The two of them passed a quaint little shop at the far end of the town’s main street, something of a food and trinket vendor that rotated their inventory every other week. They’d been struggling a lot with thieves in the past month or so, but when word got around to the king, he’d rounded up the knights to tighten up the security within the town. And then just like that, those petty thieves were a mere tale of the past.
Much like King Sonic may one day be, Lancelot thought to himself, heart sinking in his chest.
He caught a glimpse of the shop owner standing behind a stand full to the brim with apples; some spotted and bruised, but otherwise perfectly edible and polished with care. Lancelot watches with a newfound fascination as the owner exchanges a bag of seasonal berries for a small bag of what he assumed was coin.
Lancelot curiously fished around the small brown bag secured around his waist, hoping for at least a few shillings to leave behind as they walked past.
The king however, had no intention of simply passing by. He silently gave the knight the sign to wait for the exchange to finish entirely before beelining for the shop with an eager wave. Lancelot glanced to his side, quietly smiling at his king and his ever-so charitable heart of gold.
“Your highness!” The shop owner beams at the approaching hedgehog, “How do you do?”
“Not bad, not bad! I’m happy to see you doing well. Have those thieves come back?” Sonic grinned cheekily, happier and more relieved than ever to hear the shop owner be so easy going about his presence, “I wouldn’t mind giving ‘em a personal message, if ya know what I mean.”
The owner pauses for a moment at the king’s words, a perplexed expression just barely lining the features of their face as they helplessly glanced at the knight and then back at Sonic – it’s a look Lancelot knows far too well. After all, he too was guilty of bearing such an expression at Sonic’s unusual speech mannerisms at the beginning. But they seemed to adjust quickly enough, perking up again with a light laugh as they shook their head, “I think I understand, sire, but there’s no need; there hasn’t been a single robbery ever since you assigned guards to patrol the town.”
Sonic smiles, giving a thumbs up that Lancelot wasn’t sure the other understood, but took politely anyway, “Good to hear it, buddy! Keep up the good work! Oh, and here—”
He fishes through his own mostly-empty bag, frowning when he feels only one coin. He pulls out a single silver penny and lays it on the counter, “Really sorry this is all I had on me. I don’t want anything; it’s just my way of saying good luck. I think silver means good luck, anyway!”
They look back at the king, at a slight loss for words at the sudden donation before Lancelot strolls up to the king’s side and neatly places a stack of coins on the table as well. Sonic’s expression changes from surprised to pleased as he shoots him a wide smile from the side, and Lancelot makes the mistake of looking right at him. He curses himself for being drawn into his gaze, distracted, while they were in the presence of another. The knight swallows thickly and pulls away, face heating up despite not being under the harsh sunlight anymore.
It was… strange how it was sunny much more often. Or maybe it was Lancelot’s imagination.
“T-thank you… it’s truly a miracle that a king like you has come to rule our kingdom, but…” They look away, a forlorn expression on their face. Lancelot can’t fight off the icy dread nipping at his heart, his mind begging away the premonition to no avail, “Forgive me if this isn’t my place, but… I have heard rumours that you will be heading back to your world some time?”
The anxiety hits him full force once the question lands, gauntlet covered hands curling into fists at his side. He knows he can’t bear to look at the king now. Not now. But… like always, he still can’t find himself looking away from the other.
Except the flash of regret, – of sorrow and melancholy, – in Sonic’s eyes devastates him like nothing else.
And it’s only for a moment, and not a moment longer, but it’s enough for Lancelot to understand.
“Yes, I—” He clears his throat, smiles as he scratches his head nervously, “The royal wizard, Merlina, has found a way for me to get back home.”
“I see… how much time do you have left, sire?” Lancelot almost couldn’t hear the owner’s voice over the sound of his own heartbeat.
“…I will be leaving in three days.”
For a moment, Lancelot feels nothing. Almost as if he’d been expecting it since the very moment he laid eyes on the king; but that couldn’t be true – deep down he knew that he wanted to serve King Sonic until the end of his days, and no one else. Until his final breath. Until crimson spilled and met with the soil beneath his feet in the name of honour, or until his old age finally put his battle-worn bones to rest.
But no thoughts of a peaceful or honourable death could put his mind to ease when the anguish suddenly poured in, as if the floodgates had shattered all at once.
He didn’t know what to think. What could he think when he couldn’t even figure out the source of his pain, let alone put a name to it? All he knew was that his chest hurt unbearably, and that he couldn’t bear to let go of someone like Sonic the Hedgehog.
“—H-hey, are you okay?!”
When the world came back into focus, he found both the shop owner and the king looking back at him with worried looks on their faces. Those wondrous, lively eyes so full of worry for him. For him.
Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to laugh. Had he become so delusional to think that his feelings ever really mattered to begin with?
As a knight, he had a responsibility. And surely, as a mortal hedgehog, he had a heart. He knew well enough that he could not carry both in his hands, and so he chose to be a knight until the very end, just as he’d promised on that fateful day that he took the king’s hand and swore his life to him.
“I’m… quite alright, my liege.”
Lancelot looked back at Sonic with all of his courage, and smiled at him with every bit of strength he could muster.
The king then sighs, face pulling into something almost irritated. Amidst the new surge of fear, Lancelot suddenly finds his wrist captured by the other as he’s pulled into a dark and damp alleyway near the back of the town, ignoring the questioning looks from the other townspeople.
He could barely make out the king’s face in the dim light from the side, but really, it was probably better this way. Although, who was he kidding? He’d already memorised his face down to the small, healed nick by the bridge of his nose that Sonic himself probably hadn’t noticed.
The king relented his grip on Lancelot’s quivering wrist, as they both stood to face each other, their backs to the walls. He huffs, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently, “Okay, what’s up?”
“P-pardon?”
“I mean—” Sonic pinches the bridge of his nose, “What’s the matter? What happened? Are you not feeling well or somethin’?”
“I’m… fine, sire—”
He clicked his tongue and sighed, “Take off your helmet; it’s easier to talk to you face-to-face.”
Lancelot stiffened. He… didn’t usually take it off while outside – it made it easier to obscure his face and somehow, he just felt more comfortable having it down during patrols. But it was rare to hear the other truly ask something of him, and so he was in no position to decline as a knight serving under him. Still, before he could stop himself, he spoke, “Is that a command, sire?”
A look of hesitation flashes over Sonic’s features, opening and closing his mouth before finally sighing, letting his arms fall to the side, “I… no, it’s not. I just wanted to—” He shakes his head, looking away a little embarrassed, “Never mind, forget it.”
There’s a careful beat of silence between them.
“…Is this because I didn’t tell you first?”
The shock that ran through Lancelot’s body was vicious, heart stopping at his words. Yet he shakes his head, even though he was far from incorrect in his judgement of Lancelot. Pathetic, pathetic Lancelot.
“It isn’t like it was my right to know.” He tries to steady his voice, despite the pin-pricking sensation in his chest, “It… doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. You’re my right-hand man. You’re— you’re the person closest to me in this whole kingdom and I…” Sonic stops himself, unaware of the way Lancelot’s heart was caught in his throat, “I wanted to tell you first. That’s why I brought you out today. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this…”
Lancelot finally breathes, the tightness in his chest alleviating a little at the king’s reassuring words. Even if he weren’t his king, Lancelot would trust and respect him all the same; he’d earned that much all on his own. And with that, he loosens the sides of his visor, sliding it all off slowly as his red and black quills trickled out. Sonic looked on with surprise, shoving down yet another pang of nostalgia and longing as he saw the other as he was, stunning ruby eyes, quiet honesty, and awe-inspiring boldness in action. Lancelot set his visor on top of an old crate pushed against the grey stone wall, before setting his sights back on the king, similarly ignoring the way his heart rate spiked at the way Sonic had his eyes set on him.
Slowly his expression falls into something a little more downcast, ears drooping as he breathes out deeply.
“I’m sorry, Lancelot. You deserve better than this.”
This time, Sonic could see how Lancelot’s eyes widened at the words, and his heart ached in wonder of how much he’d wordlessly endured until now. It must not have been easy for him, serving under such a clueless and carefree king right after dealing with the abuses of a corrupt one.
But in Lancelot’s eyes, all he could think about was the fact that someone cared enough to that extent; to reach out a hand to him in battle even when he was covered in mud and grime, to laugh with him at small things, share a meal with him, to race with him against the sweeping winds that spoke to him tales of freedom and adventure, to walk him to his quarters at the end of each wonderful and star-speckled eve. He couldn’t possibly, reasonably, ask for more.
Yet, Lancelot couldn’t help but still be mysteriously drawn into him, almost like it was magnetic.
Could he really be blamed?
“Is, uh… is there something on my face?”
Lancelot doesn’t catch the words at first, far too lost in thought. Too lost in Sonic. Anxiety doesn’t line his breaths anymore, just for a moment, because all he can think about is deep blue and emerald. All he can think about is how he wants to reach out and touch him, make him real – as if he, too, would disintegrate before his eyes like an illusion, like the fallen King Arthur.
But Sonic wasn’t like that.
Even if he would no longer be a part of this world in a few short days, he’d never give in or fade out, stubborn as he is. He’d never disappear like that, would he?
He was all courage and stupidly charming wit and a true follower of his own heart. And perhaps that was why he had such a hold over Lancelot’s own. He was forever burned into their lives, into their memories, regardless of whether he was there to lead them as king or not.
And so he reached out, heart pounding in his chest.
“W-woah,” Sonic laughed nervously as he watched Lancelot’s hand grow closer, “Lance, what are you…?”
“What am I…?”
He paused, mind fully going blank for the first time in his life.
“Oh. There’s… ah, dirt, on your left cheek.” Lancelot fibbed as he scrabbled to pull out a handkerchief, ice running through his veins despite the way his face burned all the way up to his ears. He willed his hands to stop shaking with all his might, and brought his hand up to the other’s cheek, ignoring the wide-eyed and flustered expression the other wore, “M-may I?”
Sonic slowly nodded, unblinking as the soft cotton of Maria’s handmade handkerchief brushed his cheek. Lancelot had hoped that he bought the lie, because he didn’t know what to do if he didn’t.
He doesn’t even know what to make of his own actions, after all.
His strokes are a feather light touch on short-hair peach fur that bloomed a delightful rosy tint that Lancelot would have savoured any other time. But right now, all he could do was hold his breath and hope that the other wouldn’t catch the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of him.
With his heart in his throat, Lancelot shakily breathed out a little carelessly, making the king’s shoulders flinch at the warmth as his eyelids fluttered shut. Despite that, he hadn’t said a word about all this. The knight finally pulled away and tucked his handkerchief back in his bag, leaning until his spines met the wall. It’s only then that he realises that they met in the middle, far closer than they needed to be, and yet King Sonic still hadn’t pulled back.
He looked at the ground, eyes stinging from embarrassment. The king truly is… a wonderful person.
And Lancelot couldn’t begin to think of how despicable he himself truly was.
On the way back, they walked in silence, tension too thick to cut through with their usual easy conversation, which only pained Lancelot more knowing how little time he had left to cherish their moments together. But right now, he couldn’t fathom thinking about anything but their time in the alleyway.
Shame burned like acid inside of him.
Why… had Lancelot done that? Why couldn’t he pull away like always? He knew better than to suspect the king of using witchcraft like he did before – he just wasn’t that kind of dishonest person, and he simply wanted something then he knew that Lancelot would lay down his life for him at his word. If anything, Lancelot was at fault for doing something as disgraceful as touching the king like that, but…
More importantly…
…Why was Sonic looking at him like that?
-x-
Lancelot slides a sealed letter under Gawain’s door, stepping away just in case the door swings open. Despite him feeling apologetic, he wasn’t keen on having a face-to-face conversation, especially not after what happened the last time he tried having one.
He made his way through the winding hallways, footsteps muffled by the crimson carpet laid out before him that seemed to run endlessly. The walls were a decadent light cream, framed portraits of gold lining the walls every fifty or so metres. Lancelot had spent enough time in the castle to count just how many there were; he knew this castle like the back of his hand.
At the end of the hallway, he finds one of the guards with a letter in his hand, carefully wrapped and tied with a dark blue string that would’ve looked black to anyone else. He nods to the guard as he hands over the letter to Lancelot, although the knight has a feeling he knows where it’s from and what it’s about.
Lancelot unties the letter, the string undoing itself rather gracefully with one swift but careful tug. He reads its contents once, and then again, just to really burn it into his memory. It was King Sonic’s handwriting after all, and at this point, what did he have to lose?
A heavy feeling settles into his gut, contrasting the steady beat of his heart pounding. He couldn’t let up now – he couldn’t be afraid.
He swallows dryly, although it does nothing to clear the lump in his throat. Both reading the letter and saying it in his mind made it real, as much as he didn’t want it to be real; today really was the final day.
Lancelot had humbly requested the king’s presence; a request that defied everything he had been taught up until his knighting. But… King Sonic was a strange one; full of life and humour and charisma, full enough that he had no such room for attachment to formalities. Each time he’d been addressed as king, there was a hint of shyness that was easily overtaken by his usual demeanour not a moment later, followed by words along the lines of, “Just call me Sonic!”.
If this had to be his last day, then Lancelot would adhere to a balance for his sake, even if it wasn’t commanded of him. He was such an unusual king, uprooting all that they’d known and creating a pact uniquely his own; to follow your heart, so that you may do good for yourself and those around you.
Any other king, Lancelot might’ve questioned those words. But King Sonic had just as much strength as he did grace and imperfections, and that made him all the more beloved to his kingdom.
He held a fondness for his king that he’d never felt for the fallen King Arthur. A fondness that feels familiar but different in many ways from his sister. A fondness that he still didn’t understand to this day.
Try as he might do his best to defend Arthur’s honour as a king, he could die for his sake, but he could never say that he would weep for him, even if he was ever good.
But… King Sonic…
He was different. He was always different.
Lancelot steps out the castle gates, Arondight tucked into its sheath by his hip and a showy confidence in each step that he wished he truly possessed. It was all just a performance; no one could begin to gauge the ache from the gaping hole in his chest as he pushed through the crowds of townsmen, gaze focused on the violet fields at far reaches of the grassy plains, right where the horizon kissed the outskirts of Camelot.
As soon as Lancelot’s shoes touched the grass at the end of the stone path, he took off at full speed. He couldn’t bear it anymore – he couldn’t bear to waste a second longer away from the king. Their king, his king, even if he could no longer remain as such. But only Lancelot would know how much he meant to him, and maybe it should simply stay that way.
The deep woods aren’t as thick or treacherous as they usually are, and it’s only after a moment that Lancelot notices the dirt path leading out. He smiled to himself as he followed it, knowing full well that the only person who could do something like running back and forth enough times to make a permanent path in the forest would be the fastest thing alive, Sonic the Hedgehog.
At the end of the clearing, he sees him, armour-free and vivid blue against the violet-spotted grass, and it takes every ounce of self control in Lancelot to not trip up over himself at the sight of the king. Even besides being undignified, he couldn’t bear to think of how he’d feel if Sonic saw and tried to help him up. He still couldn’t forget the lingering feeling of Sonic’s hand brushing against his arm from days past.
And oh, how he would miss it dearly.
When the king turns around, his expression brightens tenfold. Lancelot can’t even fight off his own smile as he approaches the other, heart thrumming against his ribcage like butterfly wings batting wildly.
“You came.” Sonic breathes out, closing the formal distance between them.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. After all, it is I who requested your presence.”
“Took you long enough to finally start making demands of me.” He laughed lightly, toothy smile as charming and heart warming as always, “Too bad that… it's the last day.”
A silence treads between them; questions, hundreds of them probably, lingered in the space between whiffs of fragrant flowers and sun-kissed fur. Yet only one honest query made it past Lancelot’s lips.
“Sire…” He starts hesitantly, clearing his throat before Sonic catches onto the tremble of it, “Forgive me but, is this really what you wish?”
“I…” Sonic stops himself, shakes his head as if he can’t make himself say what he truly wants to. Lancelot wishes he would. “It's like I said, everything has its end. Every adventure has its end. I’ll… be leaving to see Merlina after this – I just wanted to see you first.”
Lancelot stops breathing for a moment as Sonic pulls out two letters from his quills, a flash of vulnerability across his expression that he just barely caught.
“This is for the next person who pulls out Caliburn,” He smiles at Lancelot though it doesn’t reach his eyes, handing him one of the letters before pulling out the letter with the gold stamp and placing it firmly in his hand, overlapping his own, “And this is for you. Please… don’t read it until later, okay?”
And before another word could be uttered from the knight, he was held in a sudden embrace, Lancelot’s body stiffening from the contact but melting into the touch within moments all the same. There was just something different about him, something he couldn’t place his finger on quite yet – something he should have been able to figure out as he felt the king’s heart race against his own bare chest.
Sonic pulled back hastily, “I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t do that to my… Shadow.”
“Your… shadow?” Lancelot wondered why he was referring to him with that old name again. He hadn’t heard it since they first met, so why now?
There was a fond, but melancholy look on his face, as though his eyes were searching for something beyond Lancelot.
Something, or someone, just was great as the king was.
“Yeah.” And there was that smile. “My shadow.”
This time, he looked straight at Lancelot; emerald eyes boring into his, with a voice that was drenched in a longing sadness he’d never imagined the king would bear within him. A burden Lancelot so desperately wanted to bear, so that he may alleviate his troubles. Anything to cease his suffering.
But something within him cried out, as if warning him that learning the truth behind those words would undoubtedly crush him.
“It is alright, your majesty…” Lancelot pulled farther away from his touch, already feeling the cool air creep in absence of the other’s warmth. But that was quite alright, because the cold was still familiar enough. “I think I understand.”
And then he heard the king’s breath hitch.
Till the end, he was certain; his life belonged to him.
Even as he kneeled, as he’d done so many a time before, no one’s presence filled his soul so overwhelmingly. Nor his heart so deeply.
Lancelot reached out his hand to hold the king’s in his own, just as he’d done during his inauguration. Feeling the wind begin to settle, he felt King Sonic’s hand gently slip into his with care.
He hung his head, hearing his very own heart pounding in a way he didn’t know what to make of. And over the sound of the howling wind, he heard the words…
“Thank you…” A beat of silence between them as the world stood still for just a heartbeat, “Remember that your destiny is in your hands, but… someone will come for you. I promise, Lance.”
A sharp chill ran down Lancelot’s spine as Sonic squeezed and then carefully pulled his hand away; something about his tone, the uncharacteristic vulnerability behind it, made him look up to face the king against his better judgement.
Just like before, he was gone without a trace. Without another word.
And so Lancelot thought hard to himself, emotions running high while he remained rooted on the spot, as to what everything could mean.
Whether these feelings were ones meant between the strongest of kings and the most loyal of his knights.
Whether such ideals even applied to a king such as Sonic, who had no desire to adhere to a set-in-stone knight’s code, and would rather follow his heart.
Or whether this is what it meant to truly follow his heart. To know affection so deep, a pull stronger than what Gawain knew as honour, and what Percival knew as duty. Far stronger than what Lancelot knew as loyalty.
The blow of reality coursed through him with such a crushing force that it would only be described as heartache. Because even if that rang true, it would not be until he was gone like the wind, that Lancelot realised he had been in love with the wind itself.
It was always destined to be a fruitless endeavour, he thought as he felt his heart fall to endless depths in his despair, and as his vision began to blur.
After all, he was a shadow of the flame that burned the brightest.
And one that went out just as quickly.
#sth#sonic the hedgehog#satbk#lansoni#satbk lancelot#sonadow#shadow the hedgehog#sonic and the black knight#satbk king arthur#satbk sir lancelot#my work#my fics#fanfiction#oh yeah woo yeah
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my ass could NOT be a follower of the apocalypse i’d be trolling people and i’d get kicked out :(
#fallout new vegas#oh yeah woo yeah#i’d be a bad doctor methinks#followers of the apocalypse#but like#arcadeeee my boyyyyy#:( sigh
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people don’t know that the original name of this meme is called “oh yeah woo yeah” ….uncultured….:..
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Btw surprise! Early Halloween overlay bc my birthday is the 15th
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Art of Lefty! The protagonist of my comic RAPTURE, coming out in two weeks on 6.9.2023!!
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Road-trip update
The fog :]
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my tumblr is officially 1 year old as of today yayay
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MY BABY DONT MESS AROUND BECAUSE SHE LOVE ME SO AND THIS I KNOW FO SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mother and Daughter dance
#THEYRE GROOVIN#OH YEAH WOO YEAH#undertale yellow#ceroba ketsukane#kanako ketsukane#atlas reblogs :3#others art
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Rompe cosas!! / Break stuff!!
#furry#furryart#furrycommission#furrycommunity#furryoc#mexicanartist#anthro#furrydrawing#lineart#digitalart#opposum#tlacuache#oh yeah woo yeah
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birthday today :D
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these guys love to party
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