#knuckles angst

[guardian-of-da-gay]

"I'm the oldest here. I'm responsible for keeping us safe..."

inspired by this

[knuckie-head]

It’s easy to forget

[mama-qwerty]

The Last Time

Inspired by this drawing by @spoiledskullz

~~~~~

He didn’t know.

The whole village had been preparing to march and face the owl. That final owl warrior, the one who had to know where the Master Emerald was. The end of the generations’ long quest of the echidna tribe could finally be near.

The boy had been so excited. He’d grabbed his training spear, and the wooden mask he’d worked so hard on, and rushed out to join the warriors as they marched.

His father had stopped him. Refused to let him join in on the tribe’s greatest victory. To fight in what would likely be their most triumphant battle. One they’d sing songs of, tell grand tales of over the village fire.

He didn’t know.

At first he’d been disappointed his father had seen him as too young. Prevented him from being part of such a historic occasion. His father explained that this wasn’t his time to honor their tribe, and had tried to rest his forehead against the boy’s but the little one was upset. He rushed off before the tears could brim and run down his cheeks.

He was hurt. And sad. And frustrated.

He didn't know.

But then he’d gotten angry. Yes, he may have been the youngest in the tribe, but he was a warrior! Just like his father and his father before him! He had trained and practiced and become strong! He was no weak child, he was the son of one of the greatest warriors in the clan! He could have helped! Why did his father not believe in him??

So the boy stewed. He pouted and festered and raged in the home he shared with his father. It was just they two, his mother had passed a few seasons before.

He didn’t know.

It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.

He would show his father. When the tribe returned, he would prove to his father just how strong he was. How brave. How great of a warrior he will become. He would be the greatest warrior their tribe had ever seen. The greatest warrior in the whole world. They’ll see.

He didn’t know.

Time passed. Too much time.

They didn’t come back.

The sun dipped lower in the sky. His belly grumbled.

They didn’t come back.

Twilight descended, and the little boy who’d become the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy ventured to the edge of the trees surrounding his village.

Searching the trees for his tribe.

For his father.

“Papa?”

His voice was soft, and there was a shake there that no warrior should have.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know this would be the last time he ever saw his father.

He didn’t know.

He wished he did.

He placed his hand on his forehead, right where his father would rest his.

It brought him no comfort.

He didn’t know.

[arahdow]

SHY AROUND YOU

Pairing. Knuckles x reader

Content. fem!reader. lil angst, hurt-comfort, knuckles having trouble with his emotions. kissing but nothing too sensual or anything.

Word count. 1.3 k

A/N. Not beta read, we die like men. Also, again, sorry if it's too occ! I had the time of my life writing this sjdjs (it's 4:51 am atm send help)

At the distance, you could see the echidna and the bat talking to each other. Rogue was smiling and occasionally pushing his shoulder, a playful glint on her lips, as he seemed to not mind her closeness. You frowned at their interaction.

It wasn’t the first time it happened, it actually became a usual thing. Rogue speaking with Knuckles about her life, him telling her stories about his past, like old time friends. He always said she was his best friend, even before you two met. It was sweet at first, knowing he had such a reliable someone to hold on to. But not right now. Right now you were fuming.

You and Knuckles have been a couple since a couple of months, both of you getting used to each other’s mannerisms and habits, it was something you really treasured as you spent a good year or maybe more, trying to open your way into his heart. In the end, he let you build a little nest in his mind, as he kept thinking more and more of you every day, and not the typical worry, no, it was something beyond that. Something that wanted you close to him at all times. To protect you when he was around, and if he wasn't you were in his thoughts until he sees you again.

So, with a lot of effort and patience, he explained his feelings and you ended up catching on what he was talking about. Needless to say, you spent the whole evening together, speaking about deeper topics and stuff. It was such a sweet memory.

But it’s been days, even a few weeks since the last time he has kissed you. At first it was fine, you were busy with tasks around the island, and Knuckles was busy guarding the emerald, you barely saw each other and you were okay with that. You knew it was a temporary thing and there was nothing to worry about.

Even then, the thing that made your heart grieve in the worst way was how shy and reserved he became since you don’t spend much time together anymore.

It’s like you returned to base one again.

You were sad, of course, worried. And even then you showed empathy, knowing he needed space and maybe time to grow closer to you again. But seeing him right now being his extroverted self with Rogue ticked you in a bad way. He seemed genuinely happy. He laughed at her comments and didn’t seem to mind her hand touching him. It made your blood boil.

Standing from the beach chair you were sitting on, you started walking towards your shared home. The whole crew went to the beach to rest for a bit after the week’s activities, and you thought it was a good idea to try and make an advance on your boyfriend. But right now, you were just pissed off and wanted to sleep the anger away.

As you entered your home, the first thing you saw was two rocks on the top counter. It was the two rocks you both chose as a token from the day you both became lovers. One was a reddish stone with white undertones and the other was a shimmering one. It made your eyes sting just remembering how nice those times were. It was hard noticing how sad times got.

Getting close to the rocks, you took the reddish one, that symbolized Knuckles, and felt your eyes water. Your emotions were caught red handed when you felt a presence behind you. Wiping the few tears away, you left the rock on it’s place and started to go to your room, when a big hand stopped you, holding you from your forearm.

You whined a bit, not because of pain, but because you missed his touch more than ever and this is the first time he has touched you in days. It was pathetic.

“What’s wrong?” You heard his low voice, and something inside you stirred. Oh you were so in love with the oblivious echidna and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Nothing…” The voice came out in a thread. You winced listening how broken you sounded.

“You left, why?”

And you wanted to punch him so bad right then and there, but you knew better. He was so muscular, your hand would hurt first than his body if you were to punch him. Shaking your head, you looked at him in the eye. “What’s the matter with you?”

He looked at you confused. “Me?”

You choked on a humorless laugh. “Yeah, you seemed pretty occupied with Rogue, I didn’t want to intrude…”

“What’s this about?”

A groan left your throat. Time to let it all out. “Knuckles you’re not the same. You haven’t been the same. You’re not the guy I wanted to be with a few days ago.” You started to breathe fast. “You’ve changed. You feel like you don’t love me anymore. You don’t say it, you don’t show it, and I can’t handle that kind of treatment..."

Taking a deep breath, you continued, speaking fast and breathy. "What do you think it feels when other girl can have all of your loving self and not me?" The air was soon leaving your lungs making you feel like burning. Choking on a sob you didn’t know was there, you continued. “I’m sorry, but there’s space for one girl inside of your heart and if it’s not me then, what are we doing?”

The echidna stood there, motionless, and you didn’t know if it was a good signal. You thought he wanted space.

Trying to leave, you yanked your arm. But it was no use, he had such a strong grip on you. Looking at the floor, he seemed deep in thought. He pressed his lips, motionless. His breathing was easy and calculated. Almost too calm.

“I don’t…” He started, then shaking his head. “I’d never…” His eyes met yours. “I… Don’t… Why…” His body seemed composed, but in his eyes, you saw fear. And the tremor in his voice confirmed that he was scared. Of losing you, perhaps. “I don’t know what to do…” He said rapidly.

You sighed, walking slowly to the couch on the living room making him follow with short steps. When both of you were close, you sat down and made him mirror your actions.

“Knux…”

“I don’t know how to make it better, help me, how can I…” He looked at the floor with furrowed eyebrows.

“First of all, don’t be so hard on yourself.” You said, breathing in slowly, trying to make him follow your inhaling and exhaling. “Second, tell me how are you feeling, what are you feeling?”

Silence reigned between the two of you. The only thing to be heard was both of your breathing.

“I feel bad. I feel angry, and sad, and like the worst boyfriend…” He said with an annoyed grunt.

“Now, what would be good thing to say?” You ask. It was like a mechanical thing, but it always helped him with his unknown emotions. And he loved you for understanding him and helping him even in these moments.

Knuckles turned a bit and took both your hands, he kissed them and sighed. “I’m sorry, darling.” He looked down. “Rogue is just a friend, I always see her as my big sister, helping me with things regarding of our relationship… But I didn’t think how that might’ve looked from your perspective.” He pouted a bit making you smile lightly, suddenly your mind imagining a lost Knuckles asking Rogue for dating advice.

“You ask her about us?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “I wanted to know how to make a special dinner for us, you know, it's gonna be our anniversary soon… It was a surprise but it wouldn’t be fun if you break up with me before I can even start to plan it.” He said sheepishly.

A smile broke into your lips. “You’re so silly, but also cute.” you said, holding a hand out to caress the fur on his cheeks. “We can plan it together!”

“But what about the surprise? Rogue said it was indispensable to have a surprise on a special dinner.” The echidna complained.

You thought. “Well, we can give each other a special gift, what about that?”

Knuckles thought for a bit before he nodded. “Agreed!”

Both of you smiled at each other. One of his hands traveled to your cheek, caressing the skin under his covered palm. Looking at him lovingly, you kissed the inside of his palm, trying to convey your feelings with your lips.

He seemed deep in thought, when suddenly his hand cupped your cheek firmly and started pulling you towards him. His face coming close to yours, watching intently at your sparkling eyes. With a swift movement, you got closer and cut the space in between the two of you, kissing his lips.

The echidna gasped lightly in between the kiss but soon reciprocated sweetly.

The kiss was brief. You pulled away and he looked at you enamoured. "I feel my stomach fuzzy."

Giggling at his words, you nuzzled on his chest fur and smiled. "I missed kissing you too, Knux."

[darknanigans]

dread doodles + my hc of pre-captain dread

[0vergrowngraveyard]

robot brothers + panel redraw (minus the background)

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

I have a slightly angsty headcannon about Sonic.

I know he's not normally big on touch or physical affection, but based on two scenes, there seems to be an implication that he gets more clingy/keen on touch when he's in pain. 🥲

The first example is in Sonic Frontiers. Tails knows Sonic better than anyone. When Sonic freed Tails from his cyber cage, and Tails saw him on his knees and coughing, what did he IMMEDIATELY try to do?

Run and hug him. 🥹💔

As if there were previous times when Sonic was suffering with one thing or another, and Tails's hugging him helped him feel a little better. 🥹 Of course, Sonic then tried to brush it off and hide it from Tails, but Tails's initial reaction still says something to me.

The second example is in the last episode of Sonic Prime. The set of scenes between the energy extraction and returning home is probably the most vulnerable I've ever seen Sonic act around his friends, and the most he's had to rely on them (which really says something about how bad he must've been feeling 💔). Besides a couple scenes when he was more or less standing on his own, he spent almost the whole time leaning on one of his friends. He was practically clinging to Knux at the start of it.

There were low-key moments like this later on with Thorn holding his hand and Shadow carrying him, but this moment stuck out the most to me in context of this headcannon.

It's ... both sad and sweet. I'm just glad Sonic's friends are there for him when he needs them. 💙

[twentytwoarts]

the sky with stars so bright

[rapidhighway]

everyone who knows me knows im so weak for my fave getting magically de-aged for fluff and plot reasons

[pedrito-friskito]

bloody knuckles - joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you come home injured, and Joel has something to say about it.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, swearing, mentions of injuries/canon-typical violence, spoilers for the show, heavily inspired by joel’s reaction to tess (iykyk), oral (f receiving), brief spanking, a bit of manhandling, unprotected p-in-v (WRAP UR SHIT IN THE APOCALYPSE FAM), I have joel miller brain rot and I regret nothing

(could be read as part of the fire + whiskey universe, but can still be enjoyed regardless)

✨I no longer have a taglist - please follow @friskito-library and turn on notifs to be notified of new fics!✨

He’s asleep, when your key hits the lock.

It depends on the day, lately, what you get when you manage to find your way back to the apartment. Every day is different, a roulette wheel that doesn’t seem to let up. Some days, he’s still awake, poring over his maps at the scratched kitchen table, the bottle of hooch not far from his grip. Other times he’s pacing by the window, the radio a quiet whine, his hair yanked in a million different directions. Sometimes he’s not even home, and you’re the one left to wait up, or pass out on the couch trying to.

But today, he’s asleep.

Silently, you’re grateful. If he saw the state of you, he’d barrel right through the fucking door the moment you let slip who had hurt you. That’s how it is, these days, and that’s how you have to be, you know. But you can’t risk it. You can’t risk him.

The pipes rattle when you flick on the faucet, try and rinse some of the blood from your hands, wincing at your sore knuckles. It’s just past curfew, and light from the too-bright street lamps filters through the living room window, and you scour for a painkiller, tossing half of something back with a sip from the hooch bottle still on the table.

He doesn’t move until you’re perched on the edge of the bed, wrapping your hand with some gauze you pilfered from the pharmacy on your way back. There’s no words, at first, just the rough drag of his hand across the small of your back, a low grunt as he rolls toward you. You pull the shirt off, feeling his fingers rove up your spine, tapping over your bones.

You’re reaching for a new shirt — one of his stashed in the pile of semi-clean clothes — when he curls his finger under your bra, pulls you back a little. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and you let yourself fall back. He lets out a low oomph when you hit his chest. He’s fully clothed, even his boots still on. “Where y’been?”

“Nowhere important,” you reply, keeping your face pointedly away from him. You pull your legs up onto the mattress, sinking down beside him, your back brushing against his chest as you sprawl on the mattress. Instantly, he slips a knee between yours, slings his arm around your waist, hauls you closer. “You been sleeping all day?”

“Don’t change the subject, girlie,” he murmurs, low in your ear, and you just shake your head, silencing your wince, burrowing deeper into his embrace. “Couple hours. Long day.”

“Talk in the morning,” you reply, covering his hand with your undamaged one. “I’m tired too.”

He grunts in response, and that’s that.

Joel doesn’t wait until morning.

The sky is still dark when he’s shaking your shoulder, rousing you just on the edge of roughly, heavy eyelids blinking open to see him gripping your bandaged hand, the camping lantern on the makeshift beside table the only bit of light.

“Who.” Not a question.

“It’s nothing,” you start to say, rolling towards him out of instinct, reaching up to rub the sleep from your eye but then biting back a quiet cry when your face flares with pain. “I fell and it just—”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he snaps, and drops your hand, fingers either side of your jaw a moment later, turning your face towards him, towards the light, gently. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Joel, don’t—”

“No,” he spits, springing up off the mattress, crossing to the kitchen, finding a rag, putting a bit of the hooch on it. The closest you’ll get to antiseptic. “You’ve got a black fuckin’ eye. Tell me who. Now.”

“Why?” you ask, sitting up as he returns to the bed, kneeling on the edge, taking your jaw in his hand again. “So you can break curfew and get charged for disturbing the peace? They’re hanging people for less these days, Joel. I won’t…” You wince as he touches the rag to your split skin, swiping at the dried blood you’d half-heartedly wiped at. “I won’t let you.”

He goes quiet, jaw working, his brow furrowed so hard you can’t resist reaching out and smoothing your thumb along the line it makes in his forehead. “I want to know.”

“If I tell you, you need to stay,” you say, moving your thumb back and forth along his skin. “I need you to remember that you taught me how to protect myself, too.” The corner of your mouth quirks. “And the assholes that did this to me look much worse.”

His face softens slightly, and his brow slowly raises. You let your hand move lower, dragging your knuckles down to his scruffy jaw. “How much worse?”

“Pretty sure I broke the one guy’s nose,” you say, unable to stifle your smug grin when his eyes widen slightly. “And the other, well, he definitely won’t be using his hand anytime soon.”

He lowers the rag, tossing it to the side as you move a little closer, pushing back the blanket he’d draped over you. He just watches, lips softly parted, nostrils flaring as you get closer still, lifting your leg and sliding into his lap.

“You’re not the only attack dog in Boston,” you say quietly, and Joel huffs, hands finding homes on your hips as you run yours along his shoulders, up the back of his head, tangling in his hair. “I’m well-trained.”

“Girlie,” he grumbles out, almost a warning in his tone.

“What?” you murmur, feigning innocence. “You taught me. Saved my life. Kept me going. Keep me going.” You lean in, press your lips softly to one of the bare patches in his beard, the perfect shape for your mouth. “You remember the day we found each other again?”

He tilts his head back slightly, peering at you down his nose, his eyes darkening as he slips his hands up the hem of your shirt, seeking out bare skin. “O’course I do.”

“And that night, when you fucked me so good in that—”

The rest of the sentence dies on your tongue. He surges upward, claims your mouth for his own. You let him, tugging at his hair as he devours you. He tastes like hooch — he must have stolen a sip — and you drink it down like it’s the finest whiskey you’ve ever had, your tongue tangling with his, hips rolling down, the friction between you two making you both gasp.

In one fluid movement, he’s lifting the shirt over your head, letting his mouth map a trail down your chest, while you’re pawing at his shirt, nails dragging against buttons, scratching lightly at the exposed patch of skin at his collar. You moan when he pulls your bra out of the way, mouths at your nipple, scruffy jaw scraping sensitive skin.

Your back hits the mattress a minute later, and you automatically reach for his belt, letting your fingers glance across the bulge in his jeans, but he pushes your hands away. “Nuh-uh,” he grunts, and pulls both your legs over one shoulder, reaching for the waist of your leggings. “Lift.”

You do as you’re told, and the bundle of fabric goes flying a moment later. He doesn’t waste any time, grabbing your ankles in his hands, peeling your legs apart. You gasp, the air cold as it hits your skin, but before you have a chance to shiver, your knees are hooked over both his shoulders, thighs around his ears. He’s got one strong arm banded around your waist, keeping you off the mattress, and his other hand roves beneath, grabbing handfuls of your ass, squeezing, smoothing along your spine.

His tongue feels like fire, flicking at every single one of your nerves. It turns your blood to flame, white-hot pleasure that sinks through your limbs as he buries his mouth between your legs. His hand moves back to cup your ass again, giving you a quick spank before he’s grabbing your cheek, flesh pinched between his knuckles.

You bury one hand at the crown of his head, those grey-streaked curls wrapping around your fingers. When you tug, he hums against you, the vibrations making sparks shoot across your vision, and you lock your ankles together between his shoulder blades, keeping him hostage to your pleasure. He’s more than willing, dropping his jaw slightly, dipping his tongue straight into your very core.

“Joel,” you groan out, back arching when he spanks you again, fingers soothing the hot spot instantly. “Fucking christ. Fuck me, please?”

“Cum,” he commands, his voice gruff as he speaks the word into your cunt, lips shiny with your slick. Your spine prickles with anticipation, the coil in your gut growing tight as he moves his mouth up, draws your throbbing clit between his lips and sucks hard. “Cum, and I’ll give you my cock.”

You nearly whine, but then his hand dips, following the curve of your ass, thumb pressing between your folds, stroking at your entrance. Everything goes tight, the edges of your vision tinged black with the intensity, and you do as you’re told, cumming with a shout muffled on the back of your hand. He licks you through it, dropping your hips back to the mattress when you push at him, legs going wide as they slide off his shoulders.

Joel shuffles back slightly, giving you room to stretch out. His belt is undone in one swift move, jeans pushed around his hips and his cock springing free, hard and heavy. You watch, chest heaving as he takes himself in hand, leans over you just enough to drag his tip through your wetness. Your hands curl into fists in the blankets, thighs twitching around his hips, and he plants one hand beside your head, leaning over you completely.

You lift your hips off the bed, catching his cock at your entrance, and he groans, his forehead pressed against your temple, carefully avoiding your black eye. You both exhale deeply as he pushes all the way in, filling you to the hilt, lips pressing a sloppy kiss to you cheek as his hips roll down. Your knees bend up around his ribs, both hands back in his hair.

He goes slow, slow enough that you can feel every inch, every twitch in his muscles, hear every word that falls from his lips, every soft grunt and quiet groan. “Always feels so fuckin’ good,” he rasps, and you cheat your hand down his back, pushing his jeans lower so you can grab a handful of his ass. “Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

You’re chasing his every move, hips lifting in tandem with his. You squeeze your thighs, palms flattening against his ribs, bearing down on him best you can. His pace falters, a grunted girlie meeting your ears, and you take it as an opening, pushing at his shoulder until he topples onto the mattress, using the momentum to land you in his lap.

It changes the angle, forcing his cock against something devastating inside you, your head tipping back on your shoulders. He puts both hands on your hips, guiding you as you drag yourself along him, knees planted either side of him. You wanted to take control, but it’s faltering in an instant, the feeling of him just too fucking good.

Joel bands his arm around your shoulders when you chest meets his, burying his face in your neck. You feel him shift, knees coming until his thighs are pressed to the backs of yours, and your attempt at control is completely out the window. He hammers into you, knotting his fingers in your hair, and you howl as your second orgasm hits, flooding his cock, all but clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure rocks you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grits, legs shaking as he drives up into you. There’s a quick pause, your body jolted slightly upwards as he pulls out, curling his fingers around the base of his cock, fucking his hand until he cums hot against your ass. You force your lips against his, kissing him through his own orgasm, taking his bottom lip between your teeth when he groans, returning your kiss as soon as the sound finishes.

The entire apartment seems quiet, in the after. There’s silent groans from each of you, Joel shuffling to find a rag, wiping at your skin, you going to steal a sip of the hooch while he buckles his belt. You both redress, sliding your boots back on before sprawling on the mattress beside him. It’s habit, now, sleeping in your clothes, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

He opens his arms to you when you slide close, and you fit yourself against him, your head fitting under his chin, hooking a knee over his hip. He drops his jaw, presses a kiss to your forehead, grumbling quietly as you settle into his grip.

“Girlie,” he mumbles, dragging his scruffy chin over your head.

“Yeah?”

“I still wanna beat the shit out of those guys.”

You let out a little chuckle, burrowing deeper into his embrace, rubbing your hand up his side. “I know you do, baby.”

[guardian-of-da-gay]

inspired by this post cuz the only thing I love more than my OP blorbo losing it and going apeshit is my OP blorbo losing control completely

also this is my first Sonic fanart yay

[knuckie-head]

Arguments

Headcanon that Sonic over time learned to HATE Angel Island. He used to love it— it’s a paradise, but his best friend is stuck there doing a thankless job all day.

Sonic is all about freedom. Angel Island is keeping Knuckles shackled in one place. He hates that.

Insert miscommunication, insert arguments, insert parting ways.

[mama-qwerty]

Overload

Knuckles lay on his back, eyes closed as the sun warmed his body. He absently chewed on a piece of grass as the others chatted nearby.

Amy had cajoled him into coming down to the surface for a picnic, a kind of "let's have a nice afternoon where we're NOT trying to stop the planet from blowing up" kind of get-together.

This was nice. The weather was nice, the company was nice—even if Sonic kept telling bad jokes with the intent of annoying everyone within earshot—and it was nice to just slow down and not have anything going on. He felt the Master Emerald (she was fine) and chaos levels were pretty normal.

He should have known something was coming. Murphy's Law and all that.

As he lay there, a feeling crept up on him. He wasn't sure what it was at first, and mostly ignored it as a sense of guilt for delayed duty, or nerves, or simply a feeling of 'being vulnerable' or any number of other vague anxieties. There were a lot of those in the back of his mind. When you're the last of your kind, and the guardian to what amounts to a literal god, you tend to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.

But he tried to ignore it.

Even when it made his stomach churn.

Even when it made his fur stand on end.

Even when it caused his quills to bristle.

He opened his eyes, squinting against the blinding light of the sun.

And then all hell broke loose.

That feeling was no longer a vague feeling, but a physical slam of an unimaginable amount of chaos energy. Somewhere, somewhen, chaos was thrown completely out of balance, in a way he had never experienced before. It was as if chaos itself was usually calm pool of water, and someone had thrown a boulder the size of a house in the center. Ripples of energy flowed over him, through him, and he uttered a pained grunt as he rolled onto his hands and knees.

He couldn't breathe. He tried to pull air into his lungs, but the colors of chaos swirled and writhed around him, and it felt like he was inhaling paint. It slipped down his throat, sliding with a sickening thickness, and he coughed, choking on that which had been a comforting essence since he hatched.

His friends called out to him, reached for him, but if their hands came into contact with him, it felt like he was absorbing them. They withdrew with cries of their own, and he tried to move away, to tell them to get away from him. But the words wouldn't come. They were stuck in his throat, held back by the chaos energy filling his chest.

He coughed again and again, trying to dislodge the thickness in his lungs, but more flowed in to take its place. Somehow he was screaming, but there were words mixed in with the screams, foreign words in a tongue he didn't know.

Opening his eyes, he saw the colors of chaos, but also . . . other things. The world around him, the ground beneath him, the trees, the sky . . . they were changing. Twisting and melting and morphing into something . . . somewhen else. He saw tiny saplings and mighty oaks in the blink of an eye, and then a stump and torn up ground in the next blink. The sky turned dark as pitch, then blood red, then blue. The air filled with smoke, and fire, and cleared.

He was seeing all. Everything, every time, at once.

Still the words he spoke, the words he screamed and vomited with the chaos inside him, came. In a fit of panic he reached out to the Master Emerald, and saw her whole, saw her shattered, saw her turn black as the darkest night he'd ever seen, and crumble to dust. His heart hammered in his chest, and he cried out, his scream high-pitched and painful, tearing at his throat.

And as he stared down at his hands, holding himself up off the ground, they changed.

The leather of his mitts split, the spurs on the backs of his hands growing longer and sharper. His claws elongated as well, becoming barbed and jagged. The hands of a monster, ready to rend its prey limb from limb with ease. His back bowed, and pain radiated down his spine. The red fur of his kind turned black, and white markings swirled up and down his arms and legs in strange patterns.

Changing, he was changing, chaos was changing him into something new, something different, something terrible—

oh Gaia oh great Gaia please help I don't want to be a monster I don't want to hurt anyone please please please Master Emerald please Mother please help me

—and he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t control it.

His claws dug unto the ground beneath him, gouging long, thick wounds that bled dark soil. He hoped this overload of chaos would kill him, because he didn't want to be someone else, didn't want to become a monster his friends would have to take down, he didn't want to do that to them.

Just as he was ready to turn his own claws on himself, a whisper in the back of his mind. A soothing tone, a calming feeling.

The Master Emerald. She reached for him, wrapping him in light and comfort as only she could.

And slowly, the excess chaos drained away. He felt it drawn away from him, leaving him feeling sore and sick and weak.

His fur returned to red. His claws and knuckle spurs shrank back to normal. He could breathe again, and he coughed as though coming up for air from a lifetime submerged.

And then Knuckles keeled to the side, his eyes closing as he passed out.

[tornado1992]

Are you a “Tails is very sensitive about his tails, he stresses and panics if someone grabs them, holds them or even touches them without asking because it gives him flashbacks about all the abuse he got when he was younger” girly?

Or a “Tails can’t feel his tails, sure they get tired when flying for too long and he can move them almost perfectly but things like a gentle touch, rubbing, or even a scratch or pull on their fur wont be noticed because of the years of ripping fur, burning flesh and breaking bones that the people from West Side did on them” girly?

[darknanigans]

sonknux angst prompted by sad song that may or may not become a small AU

in the mood for lowercase angst (mayhaps with an ellipsis)

Song: 少女レイ / Ghost Girl by mikitoP. CW: su1cide & implied su1cide, bullying and mourning

the main interpretation of the song perfectly quoted by shoujoreienjoyer on YT:

"The song is about two people, and for simplicity's sake, let's call them person a and person b. Person B falls in love with Person A, but can't seem to get their attention.

So, they ask everyone at school to bully and harass them so that the only person they trust is person B.

Though, it doesn't go as planned, and person A can no longer stand the bullying and jumps out into train tracks and gets hit by an oncoming train. (Hence the train sounds throughout the song.)

Person B feels terrible and cannot stand life without person A, so in order to reunite with them once more, they too jump out into the train tracks where person A

idk but for what ever reason my brain told me "this is peak sonknux song you should totaly cry over that fact for the next 5 hours"

[aphantimes]