fortuneshyspirit

[fortuneshyspirit]

I Was Almost There

Well, I started trying to continue Help Me... Please!

And then, I got distracted. By a new story...

Well, for an existing series. But still. Oops. Will I finish either of them? Who knows. But they've both been started. I had pretty big plans for the next chapter of Help Me... Please! too. Damn it. The idea just came to me and I haaaaaaad to, ok?

[fortuneshyspirit]

You're Gonna Laugh...

Guess what I finished literally three hours after I Live to Rule by the Sword was updated...

[fortuneshyspirit]

Ok, Yeah...

I hit a funk. Very quick. So, um...

I Live to Rule by the Sword is getting the update spot today. Oops. I will try and get That Winter done for the weekend instead. It still shouldn't take long. Just... not today. Sorry about that!

EDIT: I Live to Rule by the Sword has been updated!

[fortuneshyspirit]

Almost There

The majority of the next chapter of That Winter is done, just need to write in Eggman's notes. Hopefully that won't take too long. If I finish them in time, I'll try and get it updated sometime tomorrow.

If not... you guys know the drill by now.

[fortuneshyspirit]

Ten Most Recent Stories

Rules: post the beginning lines of your most recent 10 published fanfics (or chapters if you don’t have 10 fics!) then attempt to tag 10 people.

Thank you @mattreverse for tagging me! Sounds fun. (I swear I’ll get around to reading your stuff eventually, I’ve got a lot of them marked for later just trying to find the time, oop).

Feel free to join in @arya-12, @selendred and @belleyells but only if you want to (and if you’d like your tag removed, just ask)! And, uh… I’m gonna feel like a real dick if there’s someone else out there following me who writes, you three just came to mind first. (If someone gives me a friendly reminder in the comments, I’ll add you – or just feel free to play along if you like, regardless).

I’m not sure how much to include, so I’ll just figure out where I’d like the cutoff point to be for each:

1. By the Blade, We Are Bound

“If I ever get out of here, I’m never taking a solo mission again,” Shadow growled, dusting himself off.

He was staring up at a stoney ceiling with a jagged hole in it. He’d just fallen through that hole. The floor had crumbled under his weight and he’d been plunged into a darkened hallway in the bowels of the temple. Thankfully, his reflexes were exceptional, so he’d been able to twist elegantly like a cat to land on his feet. Unfortunately, he did not have an Emerald on him.

2. Running on Steam – EXPLICIT LANGUAGE WARNING (there’s like one instance in this extract but still)

The blood was roaring in his ears like a rushing tide. He pumped his arms, pushing his body to keep going, even as his chest was tightening. Was it safe for his heart to be thumping this hard? It felt like it was about to burst or fail or something. Was that possible? Fuck, he couldn’t really think coherently right now. Somewhere an alarm was blaring, a sort of droning, high pitch bleeping. It sounded quiet past that tsunami in his ears, but he knew it must have been loud. Really loud.

3. I Live to Rule by the Sword

Sonic took a deep, subtle breath. He was standing at a slight angle to the rest of the gathered group. He didn’t want them to know he was hurt; that blow from Merlina had done more damage than he’d originally expected. It had managed to slice through a weak spot in his temporary armour. And it might still be bleeding. Not a big deal. He just had to get through this conversation, then he could slip away, check how bad it really was and then decide what to do. Or, better yet, he could go home and use the med-kit Tails kept under the sink.

“To think… King Arthur was but an illusion!” Sir Gawain said in despair.

The echidna had his arms crossed over his chest. Beside him, Sir Lancelot rose a gauntlet to the edge of his visor but did not lift it. He never lifted it. They both looked troubled.

4. The Mystery of the Mobian Royals

Amy’s house was decorated in pretty lights. The soft pink and red lit up the windows and cast a warm hue on the garden below. Sonic smiled, seeing Tails’ yellow fur become a violent orange as they made their way down the flower-lined path. The camellias seemed to glow under the light too, heightening their already pink petals. He took the time to pause and run a finger over one of them, admiring the perfect bloom. Despite the sweltering summer days, the night was pleasant; a cool warmth compared to the morning. A light breeze wafted through, ruffling his fur. But otherwise the night was still.

5. These Inhibitors’ Flaws (Reworked)

Wide green eyes stared into the void. Sonic was confused but something about this felt… familiar. He turned his head, hoping to see something, anything, around him, but all he saw was darkness. If he could not see his own hands right in front of him, he would have thought his eyes were closed.

He took a shaky step forward. For some reason he felt off. It’s not that he was sick, he just felt disoriented. And tired. Ok, maybe just a little nauseous. It was hard to catch your bearings when you couldn’t really see anything. For all he knew, he could be upside down in this weird place. It did feel like he was spinning actually, now that he thought about it… He hoped that was just his imagination.

What had he been doing? Where had he been before this darkness? He could not remember.

6. First Date

“Sonic?”

Shadow couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. Rouge hadn’t left him alone since he’d gotten to the apartment. She kept asking the same questions over and over again. The bat couldn’t believe Sonic had baked the cake himself and picked the flowers. Shadow was glad he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t known about Sonic’s love for flowers at least. Omega had been silent. He didn’t seem to have much to add but he didn’t always.

“Yes,” Shadow said. “I already told you that.”

“But…” Rouge said, still unbelieving. “But Sonic? Are you sure?”

7. Just a Normal Day

Tails huffed as he glared at the pancake batter he’d spilled on the counter. Cream-coloured liquid spread out across the surface. Most of the contents of the bowl had stayed contained, thankfully, but it was still a nuisance. He rubbed his face irritably. Now he had to clean that up before he started cooking.

Everything today had to be perfect. Perfect.

8. That Winter

Eggman set the plate of hotdogs on the edge of his desk. The steam swirled off them in white wisps. He watched one of those wisps twist up into the air and fade away for a moment before sitting down on his swivel chair. With a sigh, he felt himself sink into the plush material.

Another loss. What a surprise. It seemed like he was doing that a lot recently. Losing. That bitter taste in the back of his throat was starting to become familiar. That’s what infuriated him the most. He was getting accustomed to losing. Eggman looked up, dragging a large gloved hand down his face. It lingered against his mouth for a moment, fingers pressed along the bridge of his nose before pulling away completely.

What to do? What to do?

9. Help Me… Please! (Reworked) – GORE WARNING FOR THIS ONE

He stood frozen, staring down at the broken body at his feet.

It was a hedgehog. They looked to be blue in colour, though it was hard to tell. There was so much blood. Everywhere. He almost gagged at the sight of their face. Deep, jagged scratches carved up their cheeks and forehead. A pair of crimson lines cut across their left eyelid but he couldn’t be sure what damaged had been done to the actual eye. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. There was a split in their ear. A chunk had been taken out of their side, akin to how one might bight into an apple and leave a crater in its delicate hide. One arm was lying at an impossible angle, making him cringe; the other was fairly unscathed aside from a few deep scratches.

His stomach churned when he took in the legs in particular. One was definitely broken. But the sight of the it hit him much deeper than the arm had. He wasn’t quite sure why at first. And the opposite leg sported a sizeable gash, revealing a sliver of milky white in the centre. Bone.

Chaos, he might just throw up.

10. Don’t Know How to Be So Close to Someone So Distant

Sonia heard the drums.

She’d been walking by at the time. Manic’s drumbeat had been… hard to describe. Somehow cheery and sombre all at once. A wild mix that worked well. And she’d heard the muffled sound of his voice. Noise didn’t travel well through the soundproofed walls; Sonia couldn’t make out all the words but what she did catch cut her deeply.

It was obvious who he was singing about before the words sunk in. Because it was the tone. The tone gave him away. Sonia knew Manic was holding out hope that their brother would come back. Honestly, she didn’t know what she believed their bother would do. He was an enigma. An oddity. She could never get a read on him when they were younger. He could come back tomorrow or they might never see him again. It was a roll of the dice with that hedgehog.

[fortuneshyspirit]

A Bit More of a Serious Post

(Wow, that makes it sound kinda scary, huh? It's not scary! Just... important).

Maybe I should have made this disclaimer a long time ago…

I’ve mentioned some of these things sporadically here and there, in passing or occasionally when answering comments. But I think it’s time I properly organise my thoughts. I was thinking about it recently and then it wouldn’t leave me alone and it started to seriously bother me. I couldn’t sleep last night to be honest. So I’m finally doing it, if only to ease my own mind.

I will probably be pinning this so that it doesn’t get lost, so sorry for this being front and centre. And it’s going to be long, so sorry for that too. I will also be adding this to my AO3 bio because I think it’s important (EDIT: turns out this is too long. Wow who knew? I say, sarcastically. So I've decided to direct people here for it instead). I don’t want to bog down my stories with this whole thing but I might make a note on future uploads (once per story at least) that it’s here just so people know. I will try to put individual disclaimers in my stories more often when I remember as well. I’m so bad at disclaimers you guys, so if any of you notice things I should be disclaiming or warning about in my stories, please let me know so I can add them.

Now on to what I want to talk about.

In a vast majority of my stories, I cover topics or experiences that I have no personal experience with myself. I do not claim to understand them as I never could, not properly. Many of my tags include things I only know about from cursory research, which likely means a lot of it could be wrong. I do not know anyone who is touch-averse or touch-starved, selectively mute, has panic attacks, PTSD or self harms. Nor do I have experience with them. I think I might be very, very slightly touch-averse but I do not claim to be. Probably the standard levels of “don’t touch me” anyway. I’ve only had feelings that might be comparable on certain occasions so it probably doesn’t even count. Same with anxiety. I’m sure I have some symptoms but have never been diagnosed, so I hesitate to say I have genuine anxiety myself as I don’t know.

This goes for things that I don’t tag too, which might be harder to pick out sometimes. There’s a few things that crop up in my stories that I don’t like bringing too much attention to for the very same reasons. In fact, these are not tagged because I have done even less research on them (but that doesn't mean none). I don’t want to pretend to know anything about anything. This also applies to wider situations too, like family issues and financial problems.

I worry about approaching these things every time they come up. And yes, I know they do so frequently and that sounds hypocritical or like a contradiction. But if I only wrote about things I knew personally, I wouldn’t have much to write about. None of it would be interesting in the slightest, trust me.

That being said, if anyone does experience any of these things and think I have genuinely characterised them wrong or am being offensive or insensitive, I sincerely apologise and please, please, please let me know. That is never my intention.

Like Sonic (at least in some of my stories, ha), I believe honestly and transparency are very important. Please feel free to reach out if you want to discuss this. Or anything else. This invitation is not excusive to this conversation! I want to create a safe space for everyone. If that means I need some education myself, by all means send it my way. I’m always open to learning and do try to do a lot of research myself. But I’m not perfect and the internet is riddled with misinformation. There are never any guarantees when dealing with things you don’t fully understand.

Sorry if this was long-winded and boring. Or even unnecessary or silly. I do feel silly after writing all this out, like maybe I shouldn’t be so worried about this as I am. It is important, extremely so, and I stand by that. Just going to these lengths might have been a bit much, especially when I have had no one reach out about this stuff to begin with. I just felt like it had to be said and it wouldn’t leave me alone until I did. Like maybe if this is out there, someone will be encouraged to come tell me I’m a dumbass or something. Or in future if I write something wrong.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. Everyone stay safe out there and look after yourselves! <3

(EDIT: Decided to unpin this because it was bothering me. And the more I look at it the sillier I feel. I stand by keeping this up though).

[fortuneshyspirit]

Feral Sonic's Back

I got a chunk of the chapter for By the Blade, We Are Bound done (about a third?) but I've moved on for now.

Today's story is That Winter. So get ready for more feral Sonic and Eggman shenanigans! If I actually finish the chapter before my brain moves on that is. Been doing a lot of research for this one. Which probably means that it won't make any sense, ha. That's the way it goes.

[fortuneshyspirit]

Screw It

I can't wait; I'm making the next chapter of By the Blade, We Are Bound advance the plot drastically. Be prepared. But also, um, maybe measure your expectations a little? I don't want to hype it up that much in case it's disappointing, ha. But things are happening.

EDIT: Chapter is finished! It still needs some thorough editing, but it should be ready to go for a Sunday upload. I started the next chapter but can't promise that's what I'll work on next. I'll edit this again, as usual, when the chapter is up. And I'll make a separate post if I move on to another story.

EDIT (2): By the Blade, We Are Bound has been updated!

[fortuneshyspirit]

Working on Something, For Now

Ok, so, this might change (you know me), but I'm currently working on By the Blade, We Are bound. I haven't yet made my mind up if there's going to be a massive plot point in this chapter or if it'll come in the next one. Depends on how I end up writing it. Either way... something big is coming!

[fortuneshyspirit]

Update Notice!

Ok, now I've finished chapter nine of I Live to Rule by the Sword. Again. Third time's the charm. The new chapter ten is almost done too. So hoping to get that finished soon (EDIT: it is actually done now). Then after that, the rest of the chapters up to thirteen (or fourteen? I don't know, I've confused myself with all these new chapters, ha! It's one of those numbers for sure) are ready now. This story is going to remain my go to if nothing else is ready. So... maybe expect a few back to back I Live to Rule by the Sword updates? Hopefully not, but just be aware that might happen.

In the meantime, I'm going to work on getting the next chapter of Running on Steam edited for tomorrow. At least, that's the aim. It might need some more stuff added to it but hopefully it won't take long. At worst, it might be a slightly shorter chapter than usual. We'll see.

But then I have to start working on something else...

I'll update this post when Running on Steam is up, and will probably put up a new post with what I'm working on next sometime soon. So, stay tuned for that.

EDIT: Running on Steam has been updated!

[fortuneshyspirit]

Long Update/Writing Rant

Just (mostly) finished chapter Nine of I Live to Rule by the Sword!

What do you mean, "Didn't you already write that chapter?"

Yes. I did. But then I changed my mind and squeezed a new chapter in its place. Chapter nine still exists, but now it's chapter ten. Catch my drift? Thought about adding another but I'm not sure what to write for it. Problem is, I feel like the next section rushes something I didn't want to be rushed. And now I'm stuck. I don't want to write a really short chapter that lacks substance just because I need to futz around for more time. But is the next section justified as it is? Have I shown enough to warrant it? Ugh. I think I need that extra chapter...

See, this is my issue. Can't get an update ready for Help Me... Please! but I can bang out a new chapter for I Live to Rule by the Sword in two days? How does that work?

I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep on top of stories that haven't had an update in a while. I tried for a little bit but then I keep get stuck. I think it's because I feel obligated to do it or something? So it feels like I'm trying to force an update instead of letting it come naturally. So maybe Help Me... Please! is going to have to go on the backburner for a bit.

Now, that doesn't mean it's not going to get updated. Just that... it won't be the next update. Or the one after that. I just need the inspiration to come to me, that's all. This is not an announcement that I'm discontinuing it or anything, so don't worry! Just going to have to look at my stories and see what hits me instead. Which means, back to my random phases of writing certain stories and sporadic updates of the same things for a while. I will still try to prioritise stories that need updates, but if it won't happen, it won't happen.

Now I need to figure out what to do with my SatBK story...

EDIT: Ha, turns out I haven't finished chapter nine... Chapter nine has now been halved and the other half has become the new chapter ten. So chapter ten is now chapter eleven. Oh, this is so confusing, ha ha. But if I do this right, I might be able to rectify this! Bare with me, I'm working through it.

[fortuneshyspirit]

how do u know so much about flowers and their symbolism??

I love how u find a way to incorporate flower symbolism into ur stories ^U^ it’s always extra fun learning new info about flowers whenever i’m reading ur fics. and honestly, it actually feels like something that sonic would know of or be interested in 😚

I just do a lot of research!

To be honest, there's no real answer for what a flower means. Flower symbolism can be very varied and different flowers and their colours mean different things to different cultures. Colour theory is really interesting too, which influences a lot of symbolism. For example, black flowers across the board are considered mysterious and elegant, but tack that colour onto a dahlia and then you have added meanings of death or change. Or there's roses. You can give roses to friends, lovers, family, and their colour effects what they can represent. You have the obvious red roses, for passion and romance. But yellow roses are good for giving to friends, as they literally represent friendship! Yellow is often associated with happy feelings in general, so that's a bonus - people often gift yellow roses for birthdays. And different arrangements of flowers can vary in meaning too.

I don't always use every single recognised symbolism that goes with every flower, but finding one that represents roughly what I'm going for is fun and adds a little something to my writing. It's more of a fun little pastime than anything else, really. Same with gemstones. And names.

And yeah, the idea that Sonic is very knowledgeable when it comes to flowers and their symbolism just tracks for his character. He spends a lot of time out in nature, so it only makes sense that he'd be so enamoured with them. I'd like to think the moment he found out that specific flowers can mean certain things he became downright obsessed.

Thank you for the question!

[fortuneshyspirit]

Stop Him the Only Way I Know How

Don’t want to steal ideas, so I'm not going to write this into the story (no matter how much I actually love this). But as a compromise to myself, I decided to write how this would play out in-universe instead. I just think the idea is so fun. Fucked up... but fun. And definitely up my alley. All credit for the idea goes to @kream2020 though! I had permission to write and post this.

Also, as a quick aside, didn't realise how long it had been since my last update. With a lack of anything prepared, I'm going to try and get The Mystery of the Mobian Royals updated either today or by the end of the week. Sorry for that!

EDIT: The Mystery of the Mobian Royals has been updated! And I'm considering getting a chapter of I Live to Rule by the Sword up to make up for the missed update this week.

EDIT (again): I Live to Rule by the Sword has (also) been updated!

And with that, please enjoy:

Sonic felt it. Felt the way Fleetway’s concentration was slipping. The insane hedgehog was so focused on Dark that the corrupted energy that had a hold on Sonic was lightening up. So much so that, if he was quick, he could snatch the control back. It was just a question of how long that would last with how fragile his state of being was. He might not have long. But he was obligated to try. Sonic took a deep breath, centring himself.

Then he slipped back into his body with all the grace of a dying fish.

The heavy throb of his arm hit him first. Then the burn along his clavicle. Sonic stumbled, coming back to his senses still upright. He leaned against a tree to catch his balance, gasping. His foggy mind barely registered the blood marring his torn gloves. He was too busy watching the fur on his trembling legs flicker between dirty gold and royal blue. Not good. Sonic hadn’t quite managed to achieve full control. It would have to do.

But what to do? He had to stop Fleetway before he could hurt anyone. His time was severely limited.

Desperate times called for even more desperate measures.

Unsteady, Sonic curled his claws into the bark of the redwood. His breathing was laboured, movement groggy. But if he succeeded, he might be able to completely break Fleetway’s hold on him. It wouldn’t stop the battle raging on inside of him but it would at least buy everyone some time. His forms, his friends. If he couldn’t do much in his own mind, he’d just have to do his best out here.

Distantly, he registered movement to his side. Sliding his eyes over was a chore. He picked out blurry figures, eyes managing to half-focus at best. Black, red, yellow, white and another red blur sitting in something grey. Eggman…? And what the hell were his friends doing here? He told them to stay away. Sonic groaned. Why couldn’t any of them just listen to him for once? Now they were in serious danger. He had no choice. He had to put a stop to this before one of them ended up dead. Sonic would never forgive himself if it turned out any of them were hurt already. But he couldn’t do anything about that now. Sonic needed his body back first. Reliably.

Someone shouted something to him. He didn’t register it.

Making sure his grip against the tree was as steady as it was going to get, Sonic took a shaky breath. The trunk was thick. Here’s hoping this worked. Pulling his head back slightly, Sonic closed his eyes. He counted to three, still not quite ok with what he was about to do. In front of his friends no less. But it had to be done.

One.

Two.

Three.

No going back now.

The crack of his skull colliding with the tree sent a tremor through him. The pain was blinding. But not quite enough to get the desired effect. Another voice – or was it two? – sounded, louder this time. There was red on the bark. Sonic could feel a line of hot liquid sliding down his forehead. He had to go again. Lining himself up for another hit, Sonic slammed his head back against the trunk of the redwood, harder this time. He let out a whine when he could still see the splattered bark, inches from his nose. More shouting met his ears. Still, he could not pick out anything distinct.

Hands closed over his shoulders. They were tyring to pry him away from the tree. He dug his claws in deeper, ignoring the agony blooming up from his fingertips. Not now. He was so close. Sonic growled, once more throwing his head towards the tree. Whoever was trying to stop him thankfully wasn’t making much progress. But, as the pain bloomed behind his eye, Sonic was still aware of his surroundings, was still aware of the hands against him. His head throbbed in agony. He tried to shake the hands off and try again.

His head never made contact this time.

Someone had managed to rip him loose. Sonic could feel shards of bark under his claws. He spun around, throwing the other off him in a panicked frenzy.

“S-stop!” he snapped at them, breathless.

He caught the wide-eyed stare of Shadow only briefly as he turned. Then he charged back at the redwood. Maybe he wasn’t hitting the right spot? So he swung his head sideways this time, catching his temple instead. White sparks danced across his vision and he let out a yelp. Sonic was starting to feel dizzy. It felt like progress. Still not enough though. Sonic supposed years of being chucked around by robots and explosions had sort of strengthened his body, as weird as that sounded. Great for battle; terrible for situations like this.

His mind was pulsing, head floaty. He must be getting close now, surely? His forehead felt really hot and sticky. The burning sting, far more muted than it should be, reminded Sonic that control could be wrenched away from him at any moment. Fleetway was probably starting to notice by now. Damn it, he had to knock himself out before Fleetway severed his connection. Shadow was attempting to stop him once more. The black-furred hedgehog’s own grip was stronger now but Sonic would not be deterred this time. To protect his friends, he could not fail. Not this time. Sonic had lost control to Fleetway the first time but he wouldn’t allow this to continue. Couldn’t.

“Ha-ave to… stop him,” Sonic choked out.

With a scream building in his throat, Sonic knocked the side of his head against the redwood over and over and over again. The dazed moments between each blow were growing shorter as he picked up speed. Sonic willed himself to fight through his body’s protests. He wouldn’t be able to breathe until all he could see was Super’s domain inside his head. It wasn’t lost on him that he was probably sacrificing power for speed but he was getting desperate.

It hit him abruptly. Vision skewing, all feeling in his body fell away. His last coherent thought before he returned to Super’s rolling fields was that of relief.

Shadow stood there, watching Sonic in horror. Nothing he did was able to stop his insistence on bludgeoning his own skull.

Shadow had been the only one to jump into action, though he hardly blamed any of the others.

Rouge was leaning against Miles, a hand over her mouth. She was pale. Tears were streaking down the fox’s face but Miles seemed unable to look away. Kid looked mortified and Shadow was right there with him. Beside them, Knuckles was rooted to the spot. Other than being wide-eyed, he appeared too shocked to even react. Even Eggman looked alarmed.

Sonic’s eyes were mostly green again, speckled here and there with that violent red. They were unfocused though, dazed almost. His fur phased in and out between blue and yellow. Inconsistent. Like Sonic was struggling to keep a hold of himself as this Fleetway person fought him for control. It was… scary. The lengths Sonic felt he had to go to in order to stop the psychotic personality inside of him. What Sonic was capable of… all to help them. The way he was hurting himself with reckless abandon, with no concern for his own wellbeing. It was one thing for Shadow to injure the other in self defence. But for Sonic to genuinely seek out such a repetitive pain…

It was disturbing.

His forehead was all bloody, leaving a growing patch of red all over the tree. A smattering of blood was collecting in the grass at the base of the trunk. He was doing some serious damage. And Shadow was powerless to stop it. The blue hedgehog was going to have some serious problems after this.

As Sonic’s eyes rolled in his head, slumping against the tree, Shadow couldn’t help but notice how the blue of his fur solidified completely. Sonic lost consciousness, sliding to the side. A streak of crimson was smeared against the tree as Sonic fell. Shadow rushed forwards to catch him, as if he could prevent further damage. The hero felt heavy in his arms, limp. But he was breathing.

Shadow wasn’t sure what to do.

[fortuneshyspirit]

"Found you, fuckhead."

Have a Fleetway doodle. I'd say it was quick but I had to redraw it about three times! The pose still isn't quite right but it's the best I could get it. Don't think I quite captured how scary I imagine him to be in this scene but I tried.

Thought I'd match my last doodle from the prologue of These Inhibitors' Flaws with a doodle from the most recent chapter (twenty-five). Just for fun.

And yes, this is what I'm doing instead of writing... Struggling a little on that front today. Almost started a whole new song fic but couldn't even do that. I've got a few of those on the back burner right now that I just can't bring myself to write. I'm supposed to be working on Help Me... Please! (and I do have a few paragraphs done) but haven't really been writing that either. Blegh.

Oh, and here's the scene as a refresher just in case:

He wasted no time opening the compartment in front of the pilot’s seat. Inside sat the yellow and red Emeralds. Together they cast an orange glow inside the small space. He reached for them, taking them in each hand.

His ear twitched, picking up a subtle sound to his right. Before he could turn, Shadow felt an acidic burning along his arm. Hissing through his teeth, he fell from the cockpit of the biplane, dropping the red Emerald. It slid under the belly of the plane. Shadow couldn’t lose it though, he couldn’t let Fleetway take it. So he rolled under the plane himself, sideways, swiping up the Emerald as he went. He came to a stop on his stomach, grasping both gemstones once more. He turned his head to the side and froze.

Two swirling crimson eyes were staring directly at him. They were wide and almost vacant. Fleetway had one hand resting against the plane, body tilted to the side so that he was bent over like a broken doll. His other arm lay almost limp, swaying slightly. It didn’t look right. Fleetway’s head was just shy of being completely upside-down at the angle. His scruffy muzzle slowly cracked into a grin, teeth sharp and bloodied behind his lips.

“Found you, fuckhead.”

[fortuneshyspirit]

"Hello, Maurice."

You found me drifted out to sea.

It’s automatic,

it’s telepathic;

you always knew me.

And your laugh as I search for a harbour

as you point where your halo had been.

But the light in your eyes has been squandered.

There’s no angel in you in the end.

Here’s a really rushed doodle because I couldn’t get Starset’s Unbecoming out of my brain and it just reminded me of Sonic and Dark’s relationship. Love that song. I cannot do poses at all, so ignore that, ha. Also, forgive the lighting, it’s late and I have old bulbs in my house. Just thought a still from the prologue of These Inhibitors’ Flaws deserved a little doodle, even if it looks nothing on paper like it does in my head. Also, made some edits to the formatting of the dialogue (and a couple things here and there) because I’ve learnt way more since I started this story – though a good edit is in store soon, just not sure when I’ll get around to it. Scenes like this may end up getting re-written entirely to be honest. I don't think the characterisation of Dark fits anymore. Though the more Fleet-like influence shinning through could make sense...

Anyway, I’ll leave a refresher of the scene I’m talking about here:

Every muscle in his body tensed. His eyes darted around. The silence was somehow quieter than it had been before. How was that even possible? He took a few steps back.

Then something wrapped around his ankle and yanked it out from under him. He yelped, landing on his back. His hands came up to shield himself, but from what he didn’t know. He snapped open his eyes and saw two glowing white eyes staring at him. He froze, breath caught in his throat.

“Dark,” Sonic whispered.

Those white eyes narrowed.

“Hello, Maurice.”

He swallowed thickly, hands still raised in front of him. Dark’s voice was low and sounded calm but Sonic knew better than to trust that. It had been years since he’d last seen Dark. His black-furred refection floated above him on his stomach, hands propping up his head as if he was leaning on something. What should have been peach fur on his chest, arms and muzzle were paler, more of a light beige. Dark’s quills curved upwards, like his Super form. Because Dark was a super form but he wasn’t Super.

Now he knew why this place was familiar. It was the Voidspace. And if he was here, that meant…

“Wh-what did you do?”

A small smirk broke out on Dark’s face. It looked wrong.

“You summoned me,” Dark said with a chuckle. “Do you not recall?”

He gasped.

“What? N-no, I wouldn’t have done that!”

“Oh, but you did,” Dark sang. “You let me in, Maurice. You slipped.”

Sonic rolled to the side and got to his knees. Dark turned to look at him but made no move to get closer. There was still a smirk on his face. He seemed to be enjoying his discomfort. Dark was very good at confusing him. It was often his tactic to cloud Sonic’s memory, so he couldn’t remember what was happening when Dark took control. But something about this all felt so... wrong.

“Don’t call me that,” Sonic snapped but the bite was drowned out by the tremble in his voice.

Dark’s smirk only grew. He said nothing.

[fortuneshyspirit]

Do We Fear the Spider or the Web?

(Song: Begging to Bleed by 8 Graves)

This is an unpolished almost writing practice thing I wrote recently. It doesn't add much to These Inhibitors' Flaws plot-wise but there are some interesting details that I decided I wanted to share. There's not really any massively new information but some allusions to some upcoming stuff. But, uh, serious spoilers for These Inhibitors' Flaws ahead, so... if you haven't read that, don't read this.

And don't expect this to be good. That's kinda why it's here and not on AO3 to begin with. I just didn't think there was any point posting it there. At least, not for now. Might make a story filled with Tumblr writing sometime, if I get enough of it. We'll see. And sorry for the long post. I write, might just have to deal with stuff like this occasionally, oop:

Let me see the teeth you’ve been lying through, I’m dying to.

Fleetway spewed nothing but lies all the time. Sonic couldn’t bring himself to believe a single word that slid past his cracked and bloodied lips. He didn’t want to believe them. Because if he did, that just proved the psychotic bastard right. And if there was a grain of truth in there every once and a while, then it was obscured by all the poisonous tripe around it. Not worth paying attention to. It was just too dangerous.

Tell me all your dreams, they’ll be dying soon, in spite of you.

Letting him go free wasn’t an option.

He’d tried speaking to Fleetway once. Tried to understand him. But there was no understanding a person like that. No reasoning with a monster like Fleetway. He’d had no real answers to give for all Sonic’s questions. Not that their conversation had been anywhere close to civil, of course. Like most things other than destruction, civil conversations were not possible with the corrupted form. Weakened as he was at the time, nothing of value could be gained from speaking with him. Sonic knew Super had tried himself. Many times. Sonic hated to tell him there was no point though. Fleetway would not change.

Super wanted to foster a connection with his other half. But that would never happen. Fleetway did not care about him. The bright, positive form had once claimed all of them, including Sonic, his brothers. Fleetway was practically his twin in his eyes. But that bastard would sooner rip out Super’s quills than spend time with him.

Hooks from which we hang.

Do we blame the venom or the fang?

Whose fault was Fleetway? Whose fault was it really that he was the way he was? Hyper tried to tell him that Fleetway was his own messed up being. That his existence was uniquely him, despite being fundamentally a part of Sonic. That they were all separate entities, existing within him.

But didn’t Sonic create Fleet?

Intentional or not, Fleetway came from him. He would not exist if it was not for Sonic’s actions. Actions he would regret for the rest of his life. So where exactly did his mindset stem from? Somewhere inside of Sonic, surely; like they all did. But that could not be right. Sonic would not accept it. Because he didn’t have thoughts like Fleetway. He did not think about blood and death or how easy it would be to squeeze the life out from someone’s body with his own hands. He didn’t. Because Sonic was not like Fleetway.

Maybe Hyper was right. Fleetway was Fleetway and nothing more. He was messed up because of his energy. That’s all there was to it.

Still, Sonic couldn’t help but feel responsible for Fleetway’s actions. He’d be haunted by them forever.

Tell me that you’re sick like me.

Fleetway knew what Sonic didn’t want to acknowledge. He knew he was borne from thoughts the blue hedgehog didn’t even know he had. But he did have them. However small, those doubts, that anger, was there. Frustration mounted into a desperate rage over time. Festering away in the recesses of his mind.

And those violent ideas became Fleetway.

Build me a prison, swallow the key.

It didn’t matter that he’d been sealed away. Fleetway just knew that was Sonic’s way of dealing with what he knew to be true. It was pathetic really. But also incredibly funny.

Prowling away in the macabre shack he called his home, Fleetway took solace in the idea that Sonic was scared. He was here because his host was scared. Scared of what he had created, what he himself was capable of. And that fear was divine. Fleetway was practically subsisting off the lingering taste of that wonderful terror. He clung to it, knowing if he could break free, he could force more of it from the stupid hero.

I can be your new disease.

Soon enough, he’d have his time to strike anyway. It wouldn’t be long with the strongest form on his side.

It had been a surprise to learn the prick was sealed away too. But Fleetway decided not to hold a grudge against him. For now, at least. Dark would get his comeuppance one day down the line. Fleetway would work on that once the negative form had unwittingly helped free him. And he’d do as he said, like an obedient little mutt, because Dark was hopelessly depressed. Hilarious really. It brought Fleetway much joy to hear the deep agony the jackass had sunk into. He leant him a shoulder, let him vent. Because the black-furred hedgehog needed someone to listen to him, to talk to. And that made it easier to coax him into Fleetway’s plans.

Bring on the plague,

make me believe

When it became obvious that Dark was no longer the one fucking with him, Sonic felt ill. And it wasn’t just his upset stomach that gave him that feeling. It was the sickness in his chest, that persistent, stutter-y panic that had gripped his heart. It exasperated the achy heaviness that had been hanging about since he’d been made to wear the inhibitors, even if it took him a while to figure out that’s what it was. Like, somehow, Fleetway being free had made the effect of the red rings worse.

It was probably in his head. The anxiety.

I’m begging to bleed.

I’m begging to bleed.

Holding Tails in his arms as he grew cold was surreal. But it was real enough, detailed enough, to seriously break him. The char on his fur was in Sonic lungs; even after he woke, the smoke seemed to linger. But it was the feeling of his limp, deadweight body that he couldn’t seem to shake. When he’d realised it was a dream, he had still refused to breathe until he saw his brother with his own eyes. And then, with the fox in his arms, living, breathing, hugging him back, Sonic could not override that awful limpness. He’d thought if he held the fox close enough that he could rid himself of the memory.

But it kept coming back.

And though he was sure Dark had been the one to orchestrate that nightmare, he was sure it had been another ploy from Fleet’s twisted mind. Though the black-furred hedgehog had not shown himself that time, as he usually did. Nor had he spoken to him after the fact. It had been Fleetway then too. Because that had been the spark for Fleetway’s growing freedom.

Want you to hurt me,

I’m down on my knees.

Sonic still wasn’t sure why he’d begged Fleetway for mercy.

Fleetway did not know the meaning of the word. So what was the point? No words would ever deter him. Sonic had learnt that words could only infuriate him more. He was thoroughly convinced that unless it was screaming, Fleetway did not like his victims or enemies to speak. Like he was averse to sound – but only of a certain kind.

And Sonic had to wonder if that partially came from him.

It wasn’t that Sonic did not like talking or noise in general, but he did not like loud sounds. Never had. He’d learnt to deal with explosions, gunshots, crumpling metal. But these sounds still sometimes got to him. Not that he’d show it much; grit teeth behind a smirk or a subtle wince here and there, things that were easy to cover up. Maybe it stemmed from when he was a kid or something. What ever the reason, Sonic thought Fleetway might have a warped version of that disquieting feeling.

So the silence that he was met with, while hunched over the toilet in Rouge’s apartment, might have been Fleetway’s own way of blocking him out. He hadn’t considered it at first. His begging had probably just been grating.

He should never have done it to begin with. His fur still spiked with shame when he thought too hard on it.

I’m begging to bleed.

I’m begging to bleed.

The dream on the mountainside, the one where Fleetway had set everything up perfectly to snap the bone in his leg. That one had tormented him in a different way. Realised a fear that Sonic had had for years. Ever since he could walk, ever since he’d first found out that bones could be broken, Sonic had been mortified of losing the function of his beloved legs. It wasn’t the pain that had bothered him. That was only there to tell him there was a problem. It was the knowledge that his leg had been useless that had awoken the deep-seated fear.

So much so that Sonic hadn’t wanted Shadow too close when he first woke from that dream. Like he still felt vulnerable, even when it was clear there was nothing wrong with his leg. And that vulnerability had somehow been humiliating to have around his rival.

I’m begging to bleed.

When Fleetway had hurt Super in front of him, Sonic had that same helpless feeling he’d had with the Tails nightmare. The idea of losing Super, of knowing this was more real, had paralysed him. Despite Sonic not being sure if it was even possible for one of his forms to die, he’d been terrified.

Because Super really was like a brother to him. And so was Hyper. So was Dark. To a certain extent, so was Fleetway. The dirty yellow form was like that brother you wished you didn’t have. That family member you wished you could distance yourself from but couldn’t. And Sonic could never be rid of Fleetway because he was a part of him. No matter how much he didn’t want to believe it, Fleetway was within his mind like the others. There was nothing that would ever change that fact.

Let me wear the mask that you hide behind – nevermind.

Sitting with Dark, even when the other was ignoring him, just made Sonic want to know what was going on in his head. Was he ok? What was he feeling? That blankness was maddening. What had once been a familiar face felt foreign to him now. Had it simply been that long? Or had Dark really changed? It was like Sonic could read him less than he used to be able to. And he hated that. Because they used to be immensely close. And then they’d drifted apart. Drifted so far that Sonic wasn’t sure they’d ever reconnect. But he sort of… wanted that. He wanted to reconnect with Dark. The only question was…

Did Dark even want to rekindle their old bond?

I won’t even ask if you’re bleeding; I’ll be colourblind.

I’ll ignore the red.

Sonic’s eyes had drifted down to the mark the black-furred form had been trying – and failing – to hide. Dark was like him, which meant he would not take kindly to Sonic pointing it out. To them, acknowledging the injury was like admitting defeat. And Sonic would not do that to Dark.

But a squeezing concern crushed his chest all the same. Sonic was not aware that Dark could be hurt that bad. He’d seen his forms bleed before, had seen them injured, but never like that. And it wasn’t just the worry that bubbled up from seeing the damage in full later on. It was anger. A hateful, seething anger. An anger that was risky. It coiled around him like briars in his skin, prickly and sharp and bordering on acidic. Oddly cold yet burning hot, a mix of feelings that Sonic didn’t know how to deal with. The distinct pull of two opposing forces coming from the same emotion.

All he knew was that he didn’t like seeing that blood caked in Dark’s fur.

Do we fear the spider or the web?

Fleetway had been the mastermind, as bizarre as that had been to realise. Dark had merely been the trap for Sonic to fall into. The quiet form had been played for a fool. And Sonic knew now that he had not been happy about everything he’d done. Because Dark had been dissociating in order to get through it. It was obvious now. Obvious how different Dark had been acting at the start of all of this. All that he’d done had been heavily influenced by Fleetway, and Dark had admitted that himself.

So who should he really be mad at?

Tell me that you’re sick like me.

Having Sonic near was difficult. Out of all the forms, Dark was the most like Sonic. Maybe not outwardly anymore, but certainly on the inside. And yet, they were so different too. Different in a way that made them clash a lot. Or perhaps it was the stubbornness in them both that caused that, the similarities. Dark didn’t think it mattered all that much. All he knew was that he couldn’t stand Sonic trying to pretend like they could ever move past what he’d done. Not just with Fleetway but everything. Dark had to own up to his own shitty mistakes. Even though it was so painful to do so. And Sonic had to accept that that meant things would never be normal again.

Build me a prison, swallow the key.

It was incredibly hard to just forget that he’d been abandoned. Left alone with only the company of his own domain, his own thoughts. And eventually Fleetway. It was hard to put behind him all that time spent in isolation. With the conniving form that only craved anarchy. It was hard to ignore his impending re-sealing that would follow Fleetway’s too.  It was going to be difficult to go back to that when the time came. But he’d made a promise to Super and he intended to keep his word.

He would not fight it.

What was the point trying to talk to Sonic when his host would just shove him back into a corner at the end of it all anyway? Sonic was hard to understand sometimes. Dark had known him since… well forever. But the hedgehog didn’t always make sense to him. He was contradictory and spontaneous and his actions just confused Dark. He had hurt Sonic, betrayed his trust, essentially tortured him. How could the blue hedgehog possibly want to speak to him after that? But Sonic kept trying. He kept trying to make that effort, even when it was clear it was hard for him too. Why? Why did he bother? Trying to analyse Sonic was like trying to predict the way the wax will drip on a burning candle. You’d drive yourself mad sooner than you’d guess correctly.

I can be your new disease.

All he’d wanted, from the moment he knew of his own existence, was to help Sonic. Protect him. Keep him safe. Be there when Sonic needed someone to talk to. No matter how big or small the moment, every second was crucial. Those moments had shaped Sonic and Dark had been a part of it, a part of them all.

But Sonic had others for that now. Hyper was his intellectual support. Super was his emotional support. And Dark was obsolete now. He was no longer needed. And so he’d be buried like a time capsule that no one would care to dig back up. Had Sonic even thought about him when he’d been sealed away? Or had Dark faded into the corners of his mind, lost, as though he’d never even existed? Had all their time meant nothing? Should Dark even be surprised that it hadn’t? Why pick him over the inherently more pleasant Super or level-headed Hyper? Really, he should have expected this from the beginning. And maybe he had. Maybe that was why he had acted that way all those years ago.

Some things just weren’t fair. But, Dark supposed, that was just life.

Bring on the plague,

make me believe

Should Sonic give Dark that chance to show him he could change? Should he allow him the opportunity to prove that he hadn’t?

I’m begging to bleed.

I’m begging to bleed.

Like the inciting incident at Eggman’s base. The catalyst for the inhibitors, for Fleetway. Just Dark’s most recent foray into taking control without Sonic’s consent. And certainly not the first. He’d made a nasty habit of that over the years. A habit that was apparently here to stay, after all this time. And that troubled Sonic just as much as it had when it first started happening.

Want you to hurt me,

I’m down on my knees.

Dark wasn’t always physical but his recent attacks had been direct.

That night when he plunged his hand into his heart really messed Sonic up. At the time, Sonic hadn’t realised just how not Dark that action had been. But now, he looked back on that awful nightmare and saw it for what it was; Dark exaggerating a menacing air that had never been him. That was why it had been so… so… wrong. But with everything happening with the inhibitors at the time, the new feelings coursing though him, Sonic had not been able to recognise Fleetway bleeding though every step Dark took.

I’m begging to bleed.

I’m begging to bleed.

And then there was the sea of blood. The first nightmare with the most obvious Fleetway influence. Blood was Fleetway’s signature. And that was when Dark had practically admitted to working with the murderous form. That had confused Sonic to the point of a nasty headache. Though, it was probably not helped by the itchy terror that evoked either. Dark and Fleet did not get along – though that was hardly surprising, considering Dark got along with no one and Fleetway’s whole being was not conducive to alliances. But the idea of them working together or anything was downright petrifying. And Sonic had to wonder if that was his fault.

He could still vividly remember the feeling of his gore-slicked fur against his skin. He could remember the slight warmth of it, Dark’s horrible accuracy to freshly spilled blood. He was very good at that, moulding the Voidspace into truthful depictions of reality, even if the main focus was wildly implausible. There was an art to it, one that Dark had perfected. For him. Whether it was good or bad, it was always for him. That used to make Sonic feel special. Now it made him feel foul.

And the taste of it. The way it invaded his lungs like a miasma. And Dark’s hands against his shoulders, keeping him in place below the torrent. That would probably stick with him forever.

I’m begging to bleed.

The way Dark had kept calling him by his old name really got under his skin too. At some point, he’d cut it out. But his fur itched every time he heard it. Which was funny because he remembered Dark calling him that more than anyone else; people did not really speak to him when he was younger. None of his other forms had ever used the name either. It physically hurt Sonic to hear it, even think it. It had never truly felt like his name.

So when Dark insisted on bringing it up, it made something inside him wither.

And he knew it. Dark knew how much that name made him squirm. It was why no one else knew it, why no one would ever know it. Not his friends. Not his brother. Not even Eggman. Sonic would go to his grave with his old name. And, honestly, he never thought he’d hear it again. That had been purely Dark, no influence from Fleetway with that one. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why it had hurt the most.

Tell me that you’re sick like me.

Make me believe,

make me believe…

Sonic had a hard time understanding what had happened between him and Dark. They’d been close when he was a kid. Was it time that had made everything worse or had Dark held on to that frustration for longer than he let on? Was it possible that Sonic had always irritated him?

Tell me that you’re sick like me,

Make me believe,

make me believe…

And Fleetway. Why was he so… different? Unlike the others, Sonic couldn’t find any of his own traits within him. Every form was unique, had their own varying personalities. But at their core, they were essentially like caricatures of him, exaggerated parts of Sonic that still managed to be so very distinct. But Fleetway was something else. Fleetway was unhinged. Fleetway was psychotic. And Sonic had no idea where that had come from. Certainly not from him.

Sonic just wanted to know why. But he knew he’d probably never get the answer for as long as he lived.

I’m begging to bleed.

I’m begging to bleed.

I’m begging to bleed.

Super was bright, enthusiastic and bubbly. A little naïve, even frightful on occasion. He reminded Sonic of himself when he was younger mixed with the – sometimes forced – optimism of his older self. Innocent was a good way to describe him. Super was optimistic to a fault. He hated when the others argued so much, overly sensitive and sweet. Only he seemed to share Sonic’s selective mutism. He was the easiest to talk to for sure.

Dark had his quiet moments, not being overly talkative in the first place, but he consciously chose when not to speak, so it was different. Still probably stemmed from the same sort of feeling though.

Tell me that you’re sick like me.

Make me believe,

make me believe.

Hyper was primarily logical but he was more emotional than he tried to pretend. He was usually calm and reserved with fleeting fits of passion. Sonic had a feeling the white-furred form purposefully supressed him own emotions in order to come across more put together though. And the only reason he suspected that was because that’s exactly what Sonic did. It took him a long time to notice it. Seeing it in Hyper made him realise just how much he did it himself. An issue he was unable to address. Hyper always tried to be the composed one and, in most cases, he was. There was a reason Hyper used to be his go to when he was dealing with something difficult.

Tell me that you’re sick like me.

Make me believe,

make me believe.

Sometimes, Sonic wondered why they existed at all. He was grateful for them, loved them all dearly – aside from Fleetway’s homicidal tendencies. He couldn’t imagine life without them. But…

Why were they there?

Tell me that you’re sick like me.

Make me believe,

make me believe…

Was Sonic alone in his experience? Did Shadow’s Super exist within him or was there something… wrong with Sonic? He knew them to be real and not just figments of his imagination. They had to be. But Shadow had never pulled him aside to talk about it and… and Sonic was terrified that Shadow would think he was crazy if he brought it up himself.

Was Sonic just crazy? What was it that made him so special? The negative energy. The positive energy. Hell, even Fleetway’s broken energy. Why was all that so exclusive to him? Sonic would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him sometimes. Maybe he didn’t want to be unique.

[fortuneshyspirit]

What I've Been Up To

Sooo... I've been writing a song fic that became longer than I thought it would. Not that it's overly detailed or anything; it was more like a little writing practice that got out of hand and I'm not sure whether there's any point releasing it. It's not like it adds much to These Inhibitors' Flaws' story or anything either, since I don't want to spoil any of the (eventual) upcoming song fics. I'm wondering if anyone is interested in reading it though. It fits with The Song Compelled Me series, since that's exactly why it was written - as well as to, weirdly enough, take a break from the story itself for a little while, give my brain a reset or something - but, again, it's not good enough to put on A03 in my opinion. Unpolished, short and kinda pointless.

But it's also about the length of a standard chapter, so... is that too long to put on here? That was my original plan. Ugh, I don't know. There's some tiny details that I think are interesting. Most of it will probably be explored in the actual song fics that I have planned out already though...

But I also just wasted, like, two days fucking around with it.

Does it sound like I'm begging? Hope not. I'm just curious if anyone would like to read a little unpolished These Inhibitors' Flaws "writing exercise" I suppose. Feel free to ignore this. If anything, this post is more like an update of what I've been procrastinating on instead of anything productive, ha. Just to let you know.

No idea what I'm actually moving on to yet, by the way. It should be Help Me... Please! or That Winter really, but it depends on what I'm in the mood for. So, at the moment, don't have anything geared up for later this week. Anyone have any preferences? Can't promise that'll be what I work on but I'll certainly have a look and see.