“Look. Yer new here, I get it.” Sails grumbled, his mechanical arm resting on the hedgehog’s chest to force him to keep his distance, “But you need to learn our rules and fast.” He growled, eyes narrowing into a glare.
Sonic tried to keep his body from visibly wilting at the rejection. He wasn't used to being pushed away by his little brother, and it seemed to hurt worse the second time around.
Except they aren't his little brother, are they? Nine and Sails don't know him. They shouldn't trust him. But he needs them to. Sonic needs his brother(s?) to trust him to keep them safe, why won't they let him protect them?
That's his job, isn't it? He has to keep them safe from those who are hunting them or whatever awful thoughts are plaguing them. What good is protecting the world when he can't protect his world?
“Whaddya mean?” He decided to ask, firmly ignoring the way his voice wavered even after the fox in front of him raised a brow at it.
“I mean quit stickin’ yer nose where it don't belong.” Sonic tried to ignore the fact that only one of the pirate's ears folded down as he crossed his arms, shrinking into himself. “My tale ain't your business, so quit poking.”
“I didn't mean to offend you or anything,” Sonic said, raising his paws in surrender. He'd never want to push his brother to talk about something he didn't want to. Why didn't he just drop it? “I was just worried, y’know?”
“Don't worry over strangers, landlubber.” Sails warned, his metal arm retreating from the teens chest as he averted his gaze, “it'll only make things harder for ya.” He mumbled, almost too quiet for the other to hear.
“But you're not a stranger, Sails.” The older argued, watching the fox’s movements, “I know everything about you!”
“No, you don't.” The kit frowned, his fur bristling, “If ye did, ye wouldn't be here askin’ questions about a life that doesn't concern you.” Was the last thing he said before turning away from the hedgehog, quickly making his way to somewhere on the boat that wasn't near him.
Sonic's ears flattened against his head as he watched Sails walk away, his left paw holding his right arm in an absolute death grip. He groaned and ran his paws down his face.
This was his own fault.
He's always been one to preach about boundaries. He remembers he used to have to remind a 4 year old Tails quite often that sometimes people just didn't want to talk about or do certain things and that was okay.
So why didn't he keep his big, stupid mouth shut when he saw Sails start to pull away?
Sure, Sails wasn't technically Tails, but they had the same mannerisms. His tails twirling around themselves to appear as a single appendage, his eyes looking down to stare at his crossed arms, his fur proofing up, and his foot tapping against the ground were all signs that someone was pushing him too far. Sonic knew that, yet he wouldn't stop pushing.
Maybe it was the desperation to understand this two tailed fox. Because he wasn't his fox, but he was so close he might as well be his doppelganger. Yet the teenager didn't actually know him.
But he wanted to. He wanted to show the kit that he was the one the kid should trust. He wanted to prove to Sails that he was a free shoulder to lean on if he needed it.
A big brother who would always have his arms open, waiting to comfort the fox should he need it.
It was a need for the hedgehog. He so desperately needed his little brother to understand he was always here that he forgot that Sails wasn't his brother. Not in those blue eyes, anyway.
To Sails, Sonic was a stranger. He was just some guy they found on an island who begged to be let aboard their ship. They had only met a few hours ago.
He was, understandably, overwhelmed by the hedgehog. It seemed like the stranger knew almost everything about his life, except for one key detail; Sonic didn't exist in it.
And that's exactly what made Sonic keep pushing. He wasn't a part of Sails’ life, but he wanted to be. Because he knows what Tails’ life was like before meeting the hedgehog, and he needed to make sure Sails was safe.
Nine wasn't.
Mangey wasn't.
There had to be at least one variant of his little brother that was okay. The kid's safety couldn't only rely on Sonic, surely there had to be one of them that got off easy.
But he guesses that was just another assumption he was wrong about.
“Landlubber!” Sonic's ears twitched at that, swiveling around until they located the direction the shout came from. He turned around to see Batten flying above him.
“What’d ye say to Sails?” She asked, one hand resting on her hip as the other held the hilt of her sword. The bat nodded her head up towards the crow’s nest.
Squinting, Sonic could see Sails was leaning against the banister, his head hung low.
The hedgehog winced and rubbed the back of his neck, “I kinda pushed him about something I shouldn't have.” He admitted, ears folding down against his head. “Do you know how I can make that up to him?”
Batten’s frown deepened as she glanced up to the fox for a brief moment, “Don't do anything. He'll sort it out on his own.” She advised, lowering herself down to land beside the hedgehog. “And don't bring the topic back up again. Ever.”
“Noted.” Sonic tried to smile, but it was very obviously strained. He sighed and looked away from the fox, not wanting to be caught staring.
He wasn't used to leaving Tails alone. When the fox was upset he would always bring him a gift to make up for whatever it was he did.
But maybe it's time to stop treating these two tailed foxes like they're his little brother. It never seemed to work out in his favor.
155 notes
·
View notes
Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization
The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.
If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:
Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.
Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like:
"She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay????
"Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.
It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.
Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue.
But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.
112 notes
·
View notes
wanna bug Toji soooo bad while he’s on the phone. his ass doesn’t have a job so it’s not like he’s discussing important business, but he likes to make it look that way. phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he uses one hand to rub circles on your exposed thigh, the other flipping through the tv channels. he’s speaking in a low tone, his eyebrows mused together in agitation as he calls the guy on the other line a barrage of insulting names.
and you’re just a simple person—the man looks hot as fuck like that and you just have to bother him. so you do, despite the side eye he gives you when you swing your leg over, foot in the air, right in his face. he swats you away gently before going back to his phone call, bites at your toes when you still try to wiggle them in his face.
"If you think you can lowball me like that, then you're stupider than I thought." Toji grunts to the other man on the phone, distracted once more. a little peeved that his attention isn't on you much anymore, you do what any little conniving imp would do.
you sit on his lap. backwards, facing the TV, looking over your shoulder at him with such an evil little grin that it makes his eyes squint to you in warning. but you've never listened much, especially when you know you'll be rewarded so plentifully in the end.
so you rock your hips, just slightly the first few times. your legs sat on either side of him, hands resting in the space between his legs on the bed, leaning your weight back on his hips that you sit against. instantly, you can feel the swell of him beneath his sweats, feel the thickness that you love to fill you up start to twitch when you circle your hips, grinding them oh so slowly against his covered cock.
when you look over your shoulder again, Toji only stares, the slightest lilt of his lip turning up at the corners. he tries to act unbothered, one arm bent back to rest his head against, the other holding the phone to his ear. but you can see through him, and feel just how bothered he really is.
so you up the ante; start to lift and drop your hips slow, slow, slow at first before the pace begins to build. you lean forward on your elbows, pull your underwear up until the curve of your ass is exposed, gasping from the friction, from the feeling of his cock rubbing so sweetly at your slit through the thin cotton.
you look over your shoulder once more, grinning, biting at your lip as you grind against him, close to completion. he can see it all in your eyes.
"Gonna call you back later. Got some important shit to take care of right now." Toji hangs up without preamble, gaze distant as he focuses on the ever growing spot of your arousal that starts to leak onto his own sweats.
but you're a little minx, with the way you scramble from his grasp before he can catch you, laughing when he snags your ankle to drag you back down. he's suddenly kneeling over you, grin sharp and ferocious, the straining of his cock through his sweats hanging so intimidatingly low, that if you lift your hips just a little, his tip would kiss your clit in the sweetest kiss.
"And where do you think you're going, you little brat?" Toji growls, dropping down to nip at the base of your neck, licking over your pulse point.
"Not letting me off the hook that easy, huh?" you tease, hands splayed beside your head in surrender, just wanting a little bit of the chase before the devouring. and by the look in his eyes, you know you'll only be bones by morning.
"Not in a million years." he promises right before the inevitable pounce.
62 notes
·
View notes
Dark Urge x Gortash HCs That No One Asked For:
Murder is the ultimate symbol of love for Durge, so yes, Gortash gradually becomes Murder Target Number One
(And honestly, he’s touched)
He’d rather not be murdered just yet though, so it does become something of an inconvenience
Has to double his personal guard once Durge moves in with him
May even start microdosing common toxins (just in case)
As their relationship progresses, Gortash orders more and more frequent strip searches to ensure Durge isn’t concealing any weapons meant for him
Durge doesn’t mind it because it leads to sex more often than not
But they do get into arguments over whether or not Gortash gets to keep any weapons he confiscates
Once, Durge almost gets away with sneaking poison into his wine, and Gortash is deeply offended
Not because of the attempted murder– he’d expected that– but because it lacks Durge’s usual violent flair
How absolutely pedestrian, to be poisoned via wine
After all, doesn’t he deserve more, given their history? Doesn’t he deserve to be flayed alive and spread across Bhaal’s altar?
This is their biggest fight ever
He’s only (somewhat) placated once Durge swears that the poison is rare and expensive and made just for him
But still
Next time he orders a strip search there had better be an arsenal of knives on Durge’s person
78 notes
·
View notes