#rotcalypse

[greenhillguy]

she crush on my 40 til i live and learn

"..."

"y'know, there are easier ways to tell me that you're into me, shadow."

[adventurousblur]

imagine if u had a different form and half the time u transform into it you aren't even in control, you're backseating and someone decides to confront you about one of the only things you can remember from this form yet its the most agonizing painful memory you have and then they leave for 3 weeks. also they're def mad at you because they don't know it's traumatic and it's near impossible for u to explain it.

[facesblind]

@rotcalypse

“i won’t allow this to happen again.”

          𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝗴𝗮𝘇𝗲  𝗼𝗳  𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁  𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀  𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀  𝗻𝗼𝘁  𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗼𝘁  𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿  𝘁𝗼  𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄,  remaining  on  the  contents  of  a  broken  fridge  instead.  half - empty,  there's  still  some  booze  ;  mira  fishes  out  a  bottle  of  the  cheapest  beer  possible  before  picking  up  on  the  conversation.

          despite  exhaustion,  she  keeps  her  place  clean  —  metal  cap  in  the  trash  &&.  uncomfortable  boots  put  on  a  shelf  ;  only  then  mira  plops  on  the  couch  and  takes  a  sip.

          ❝  fucking  hope  so,  ❞  the  stripper  murmurs,  massaging  her  temples.  ❝  what's  this  guy's  deal  anyway?  taking  over  the  world?  ❞

[celestikal-aa]

“nobody tells me what to do.”

❝ YOU WILL TAKE ME WITH YOU. ❞ she repeats; as if she hadn't heard him speak. celeste looks upon him with large, empty eyes, unmoved by the possibility of a THREAT behind his words.

❝ you do NOT possess my capabilities. you WILL need my assistance. ❞ keeping her behind was a foolish decision from the commander; she had decided that she won't be following that order. NOT TODAY. ❝ you are much more superior than the usual lifeform. SUCH BEHAVIOR IS UNBECOMING. ❞

[wisponed]

did you really think this is the right thing to do ?

SEND ME MEMES !

"are we having a discussion about morality or are you just trying to get in my way?" scratch doesn't look to shadow as she cleans her wispon with an oil rag, going over the same spot across the wisp port for the third time. it's not that shadow intimidates her, more that she thinks his look might force her to reconsider, reflect, recontextualize, think.

scratch is so tired of thinking.

she can't remember the last time her body hasn't felt like a taut wire, tension making her feel like something brittle. hit it once it won't break. twice? maybe it'll survive, fault lines holding together like a kind of belated prayer. three times...?

if she's going to break in front of someone, it certainly won't be shadow.

the ivory lightning wisp swoops over to her, hovering at her elbow, its glare expectant. she's gotten used to calling it blitz, a name it seems to accept if not outright enjoy. blitz isn't hers, not a pet to be toted around or a simple weapon to use, but it is the closest thing she has to a friend she has. scratch may not have a fancy miles electric to translate the language, but she and blitz have been working together long enough to understand one another. the robotnik base is clear. time to head inside.

scratch tucks the rag into the back pocket of her pants, double checking the grappling line on her wispon. when she finally does look up to shadow, yellow eyes meeting red, her gaze is hard. blitz bobs up to float near her shoulder, staring shadow down in tandem. even if blitz doesn't condone scratch's hunger for revenge, she knows she can count on it to back her up in any argument.

"you gonna force me into a socratic, or can i get my night started?"

[pikos]

"so that did happen. it wasn't a dream."

          SHE WOULD NOT BE MADE WEAK BY OTHERS’ FEROCITY; IN THE FACE OF FEAR, HERE, ROSE STANDS ( HEART SKIPS A BEAT; HIS TONE EDGED WITH SOMETHING SHE’S UNABLE TO PLACE AT THE MOMENT, BUT ISN’T EXACTLY EAGER TO FIND OUT ) —     Amy had let her guest take whatever rest necessary, not wanting to disturb him in the slightest     [ —if one were to simple listen, they’d hear the thunderous roar of a quaking heart against the cage of her ribs; disbelief? Relief? ]     OUR ROSE-TINTED GLASSES WEARING HEROINE SHIFTS HER WEIGHT JUST EVER SO, EMERALD ORBS LOCKING ONTO HIS, BEGGING- NO, PLEADING, TO MAKE SENSE OF THE MEMORIES,

SHE’S JUST AS LOST, NO DOUBT. The memories flash though her mind, painfully clear & undeniable, tinged with a surreal quality that gives her crumbs of hope that maybe it hadn’t been ( she’d always been a dreamer, ) —

          ❛❛     YES,     ❜❜     she almost chokes on her words, a sudden chill rippling across pink-fur,     ❛❛     It did, I’m afraid. It was no dream, Shadow…     ❜❜     HER VOICE IS STEADY, ATTEMPTING TO BE GENTLE BUT SHAKY ABOVE ALL ELSE, AS IF SHE’S AFRAID IF SPEAKING TOO LOUDLY MIGHT SHATTER THE DELICATE BALANCE OF THE COSMOS,

          HER CLAWS DIG INTO HER PALMS, LEAVING PAINFUL INDENTS; ANY MORE, & SHE’D BLEED…     SHE WATCHES HIM CAREFULLY, ATTEMPTING TO GAUGE HIS REACTION; she steps closer, daring & a naive little dreamer she tends to be,     ❛❛     I-I know it’s… hard to believe. I can hardly believe it myself, but we were there. Together. It was real,     ❜❜     Amy smiles him in a way she would at herself; AN ATTEMPT TO COMFORT, TO BE AN ANCHOR AS SHE GIVES HIM A PAUSE, STEPPING BACK just ever so to provide space to process, to respond if needed,

[greenhillguy]

claws dig into his shoulder, eyes impossibly wide. pulling himself closer with the plan to apologize in the morning, when he can talk. nightmare.

it takes so little to wake sonic up on nights like this -- a strangled gasp, the stiffening of limbs, shadow's legs twitching beneath the sheets as if to bicycle in a half-abandoned death throe. sonic untangles himself from the blankets, from sleep itself, moving in front of shadow to place one hand planted at shadow's rib cage, the other on his cheek, grounding the two of them as if this is the prelude to jump start shadow from sleep to nightmare to reality. don't forget to connect the red clamp to the positive terminal and here we go --

sonic's more used to this than he'd like to admit, and not just from shadow. there were so many sleepless nights as a kid, where he was the only shield blocking out the rest of the world for tails, a barrier against lightning and creatures in the night and memories of bullies yanking so hard on his tails they'd pull away fur by the fistfuls, laughing all the while.

it's different, of course, for shadow. the ghosts don't look the same, don't haunt him the same way. shadow is all blood and bullets and bared teeth, desperate and violent in his self-preservation, hands finding purchase on sonic's shoulders just for the claws to dig in. he knows shadow will regret it in the morning, will think himself a kind of monster for causing harm at all, will forgo recognizing his own torment just to focus on the wounds he never intended to leave.

but sonic won't let him face this alone. not right now, not in the morning.

his thumb brushes over the wet tracks left on shadow's cheek, sonic's green eyes fluorescent in the slice of light from the moon seeping into the room. the hand over shadow's rib cage tightens its grip a minuscule amount, another way to ground shadow, something else to focus on rather than the horrors playing over in his mind like a faulty VHS, the image skipping, repeating, fraying at the edges into something even more terrible than the memory it was based on.

"breathe for me." sonic's voice is rough with sleep, the sound of wind fighting through dense foliage. he presses his forehead against shadow's, his face blurring into something only recognizable through the dominant emotion -- panic. "in," sonic says, demonstrating a slow, deep breath in. "hold." his thumb taps against shadow's ribs, a steady beat... eight, nine, ten... "out." sonic waits to feel the ghost of shadow's breath across his lips before starting the exercise over, once, twice, three times, however many it takes to bring shadow back, to bleed cogency back into him.

he's not sure how long it takes, sonic's own limbs cramping as he squats on the bed before shadow, but the breathing evens out, the claws unstick from his shoulders. sonic doesn't wait, doesn't ask if shadow's okay, just gathers him in his arms already knowing the answer, already knowing what he needs to hear. he nuzzles his mouth against the side of shadow's head as if he can direct the words to shadow's brain, bypassing everything else.

you are not your ghosts. not to me.

his hand cards through shadow's quills, burying deep to scratch at his scalp, a low, slow purr starting in his chest, more for shadow's sake than his own, another signal of comfort.

you are more than just the sum of all the terrible things that have happened to you, all the terrible things you've done before. you always have been. you always will be to me.

[greenhillguy]

space? did you say... space?

"uh... yeah?" of the things sonic has said he didn't think that was the one that needed repeating. "we're heading up to the ark... in space." the look he gives to shadow is equal parts questioning and concerned, brow ridge quirked up. it's all been so unclear -- how much shadow remembers after surviving the fall from orbit, or the events during metal sonic's ( admittedly short and strange ) reign, or what shadow knows about the appearance of these aliens and what exactly they're up to. he holds out a hand, not quite touching shadow but ghosting over his arm, millimeters away from providing comfort, hopingdreamingwishing shadow will accept it. he still remembers the way shadow fled from him in frog forest, still remembers the uncertainty of where they stand. "are you ready for this?"

[adventurousblur]

post SA2 sonadow song save me,,,,,,,,, save me post SA2 sonadow song.......

[greenhillguy]

his choice of gift is a bit unorthodox: a simple vase constructed from paper, which holds several origami pieces delicately folded to resemble birds of paradise. for the one as quick & free as the wind. there is a single note attached to it—- “for the vase i broke.”

HAPPY VALENTINE'S TO YOU TOO, SHADOW...

it's been a surprisingly busy day -- sonic's not usually one to celebrate something like this, but he'd been putting off enough of amy's friend luncheons. of course the only free time in his schedule just managed to line up with the valentine's day get-together.

at least he was able to drag knuckles and tails into it, too. it shouldn't have been so entertaining to try and watch knuckles hold the tiniest teacup on the planet or see tangle stealthily pelting jewel with conversation hearts, hearing them ping off her tough carapace.

and yet, even as he stirred his tea and nodded and grinned, all he could think about was shadow's notable absence; what he'd say about the little petit fours in shades of red and pink that sonic would have made him try, how he'd react if sonic twined their fingers beneath the table, pressing their thighs together, the way his mouth would taste afterwards, bitter and sweet from tea and confections.

so to see the paper vase as he gets home feels like an echo of some kind, a response to a question he hadn't thought he'd verbalized, a message from the universe received loud and clear -- yes, he's thinking about you, too.

"heh--" the chuckle is soft but the smile quirking up half of his mouth is even more so. he presses his fingertips to the petals of one of the birds of paradise and swears he catches a scent for just a moment -- that of leather, mellow and well-loved, with creases worn in like smile lines.

[greenhillguy]

fingers curled around his chin, his other arm drapes over his back, finding the perfect space between sonic’s spines. the cuts, the blood are just afterthoughts in the wake of his pursuit, pulling sonic in for a kiss, slow & searing.

despite what people think, there are still wild places in nature. places where vines and kudzu and clover grow rampant, eager to choke out whatever is in its wake, so like the bloodthirsty mint in vanilla's orderly garden. places where it's easy to believe no one has ever tread, places that feel unapologetically authentic, intense, sincere, especially when traversed at night, in the dark.

it's one of these wild places that he takes shadow, a hard trek for those not used to walking, running, fighting for their lives ( for them, it's a walk in the proverbial park ). it takes a few uphill hikes and loop-de-loops and sprinting through hidden waterfall passages that turn into cave systems, but finally they arrive.

the cave tunnels open up to a cliff's edge, one that, at the right angle, blocks out the land beneath them. what's left is a spread of night sky so wide it looks painted there, stars exploding over the velvet black horizon, the moon of crescent gash of light in the middle of it all. sonic watches shadow take it in for a moment, studying the silver light splashed across his face. up this high, the wind whips at their quills, the rustling sound of them like whispers in the dark, just out of earshot.

something about this place makes sonic feel real. so many people make nature out to be an overwhelming force, one that defines their insignificance. but how can you feel small and unworthy when you're allowed to see the stars scattered across the sky as if you were in orbit? how can you feel anything but grateful when you live in a world that provides wonders like this for those who will seek them?

sonic's just turned his face back to the moon when he hears shadow move, feels fingers on his chin angling his face back. in a heartbeat he knows shadow understands. this place is as wild as they are. there is something untameable in the cliff's jagged edges, the daggered rocks, the points of their own quills. shadow's arm curls around sonic's back, but one of sonic's hands finds purchase on shadow's shoulder, the other curling around shadow's throat, the mint choking out the rest of the garden.

they kiss like an earthquake, an avalanche, a tsunami, a starfall, like nothing could get in their way, get between them, if it tried.

when they break away, sonic's eyes are electric on shadow's, green like copper flames. in a millisecond he's out of shadow's grip, disappearing and reappearing at the edge of the cliff, his back facing the night sky, on his tip-toes as he looks to shadow. the grin on his face is almost feral, fangs flashing.

"if you liked that," sonic teases, wind pushing his quills to one side, "you're gonna love the next bit." and without waiting for a response, he falls backward off the cliff face, vanishing below the edge with the tell-tale sound of a spindash marking his descent. i dare you to follow me -- i know you will.

[celestikal-aa]

❛ the more you know, the shorter your life will be. ❜ 

❝ you must know how ABSURD that statement is. ❞

the more you know, the shorter your life is. ❝ KNOWLEDGE does not alter a LIFEFORM'S LIFESPAN, as far as i am aware. ❞ celeste blinks once. of all the things he could have said, this was the most disappointing. ❝ i know much. SO DO YOU. my knowledge embodies the legacy of long gone stars. ❞

❝ and yet. HERE I STAND. ❞

[greenhillguy]

taps him on the shoulder. he slowly unveils what's in his palm: a freshly blossomed stem of blue-purple bells, the shade of his quills in the sun. "delphinium."

THEY'RE SO SOFT I'M GOING TO EXPLODE

what's really impressive about shadow is how he's able to find flowers sonic's never even seen on the island. maybe they weren't here before -- maybe they dropped to earth the same way shadow did, a fiery trail tailing them in the sky before crashing down, planting themselves, seeds and sprouts of shooting stars. he hopes they've all bloomed as good as the delphinium has, as good as shadow has.

he takes the stem, gloved fingers delicate as he holds it up to his face, wide eyes committing the shape and hue to memory. sonic wants to recognize this if he sees it again, wants to catalog all the places he finds it so he can show shadow later. see, i was paying attention? see, i like it when you share things with me? see, i care what you have to show me?

as sonic's holding the stem, a loosened bud breaks off, dropping into his hand. it may look like a bell but it falls onto his palm without a sound. perturbed, sonic frowns for a moment, pinching the petals between his fingers.

the mood only lasts for a moment as sonic's face alights. leaning forward, the tips of their noses almost touching, sonic nestles the flower amongst the finer quills at the top of shadow's head. there the bud is secure and unblemished, a spot of blue on his forehead like a kiss.

there, he signs, looking altogether too pleased with himself. we match.

[greenhillguy]

“   don’t  be  a  hero .   ”

SEND ME MEMES !

"damn, shadow. you got me there. i'm changing my ways. no more heroics." there perhaps isn't any circumstance where the statement would've be remotely believable from sonic's mouth, but it sure wasn't this one.

blood dribbles from a cut across sonic's forehead as he picks his way through the rubble of sunset heights toward shadow. his expression is grim as he takes in the state of shadow's leg. or, more specifically, the foot long piece of shrapnel lodged in his thigh.

it isn't the worst injury he's ever seen, and not even the worst one he's seen shadow with. but it was sonic's fault. he was supposed to be looking out for shadow, for everyone. if he'd been better, faster, this wouldn't have happened.

a memory surfaces, unbidden -- two hands wreathed in golden light, reaching out to each other in the velvet blackness of space, the distance between them growing and growing and --

there isn't ever a time for pity parties in sonic's world. you do your best, what you think is right, and then you deal with the consequences. that's all anyone can do.

sonic blips out for a second, returning with the scrap of a nearby awning from a store that used to be a bakery before badniks tore through it.

kneeling next to shadow, sonic gets a better look at the injury. he knows shadow has accelerated healing -- comes with the deluxe ultimate lifeform package -- but he can't imagine having a shard of metal sticking out of his leg makes it easier, or less painful.

"cross my heart," sonic mutters, tone flat and humorless. sometimes he gets so tired of all the hurt in the world, of all the hurt his friends have to face. he loops the scrap around shadow's thigh in a motion more practiced than it should be, tightening the makeshift tourniquet. "-- after this my hero days are over."

he grabs the piece of metal in both hands, green eyes sharp as they lock with shadow's. this won't be pleasant for either of them. "tell me when."

[adventurousblur]

I think it's very ironic this topic is on dash right now because super plays a giant role in harboring sonic's memories of every battle, traumatic or not. super was the one who had to watch shadow fall and he was the one who had to kill cosmo. two painful memories that he harbors for sonic most of the time because he does not feel. yet, when he thinks of these moments, super can feel a physical ache in his chest.

though, holding onto these memories for sonic isn't temporary as sonic can be reminded . . . with a recent anniversary between sonic and shadow, shadow finally remembered an extremely important moment between them where they shared their second kiss ever / first kiss after shadow returned from death — marking the last memory shadow needed for his mind to be restored fully after the fall.

shadow ended up sitting with sonic in a cold ass shower while they were both still clothed [ now soggy as hell ] . . . and had a heart to heart because their bond is so deep it transcends every aspect of their lives. his lover mentioning their second kiss brought back that memory, and allowed sonic to practically yank it from super's hold — which is what caused the argument in the first place; the memory was so painful for sonic he hid it for such a long time . . . despite that being selfish. sonic doesn't even remember most of the things he DOES as super — for many good reasons.

[adventurousblur]

oh don't mind me just thinking of how sonic and shadow's first kiss was before shadow fell to his death and is the reason why super is like that-

Today at [6:02 PM] FOR WHEN U GET BACK- their kiss was electric. right after the defeat of the biolizard, they both sat floating for a few minutes almost in disbelief. super shadow was practically new to this world and super sonic was like a fresh wound. neither knew what to do after such a huge victory. and sonic looks at shadow. shadow's shaking- just like himself. the adrenaline fuels the need in his body, the desire to kiss this man he had grown to know over this week [ i hc sa2 took place in a weeks time like sa 1 ]. both hedgehogs end up looking at each other,,, but it's shadow who moves first; rough flesh digging into sonic's lips as they finally embrace. just like puzzle pieces they fit, and sonic feels harsh digits sinking into sensitive skin. despite the pain, sonic shifts even closer to shadow- and at this point they're practically inseparable. chaos energy floats around the two; engulfs sonic and shadow as they reunite, like tikal to chaos. like mind to body. like soul to soul fulfilling fate. Today at [6:09 PM] and then shadow slips. slips slips slips and sonic has no idea why he's so frozen as shadow pulls away, as pale fur morphs into pitch black night against twinkling stars. and soon enough his hand reaches out in some desperate pathetic attempt to save his newfound lover- but he cannot, as this is not what shadow wants. shadow was the one to initiate the kiss, and shadow was the one to let himself fade. the link between sonic and super cracks. it shatters. and super is not sonic, yet he is.