48 Recent Deviations
Featured: My dear Knight of the Wind color
Their Song"Shadow?"Their Song by Little-Tin-Wings
"I love you."
The harsh wind was one thing he hated about Winter, but more than anything he hated the songs that whispered through the trees. They were songs of joy, comfort and cheer. They gave happiness to those who had nothing else. But that wasn't why he hated them. He hated them because none of them were their's. The rocks and the birds should know that song by heart, know the wordless lyrics that had raged so fiercely through open planes. And yet, they only sang songs that had no meaning.
The forest blurred around him as he ran passed, the barren branches of trees covered in snow that stung his face. His throat tightened as he remembered her warm hands pressing against his cheeks, the twinkle in her eyes as she dried his soaking fur.
"One of these day's you'll catch cold and I won't be able to heat that out of you."
"Something tells me you'd still try."
It was hard to believe she was gone. Five yea
Loving You is Loving WarTo some, the sound of war was death’s lullaby; a song in a minor key, telling of despair, desolation, and blood. Lots of blood. Rivers of it. But to warriors and soldiers, the blood was their holy water, something so pure it would cleans them of death. And the sound of war itself was like a morning bell; a bird singing on a bright spring day, or the sound of a mother’s gentle voice calling you from sleep. It was war and it was death, but it was all they had.Loving You is Loving War by Little-Tin-Wings
“Lift your sword higher when you block your opponents attack. You can’t win if you don’t have a head.” The commander’s clear voice rang out across the training grounds, her lavender tail swishing behind her as she moved gracefully around the fencing square. She observed the trainees intently, her golden eyes taking in every detail as she watched them fence. None of them were quite prepared for battle, but they were making progress, and she could see their potential.
Maybe a rich man, Or beggarMaybe a Rich man, or BeggarMaybe a rich man, Or beggar by agentdoubleoneseven
As Shadow walked along the sidewalks lining his filthy little town, the small town of Mobius, he stumbled upon a hill lined with houses much nicer than the ones in his town.
A sign with extremely detailed designs carved on the edges gave a name to this hill.
'Talk about other side of the train tracks.' he commented in his mind as he kept walking.
He continued walking as he moved his hand through his hair using car windows as a mirror.
Sure he was an outcast but that didn't mean he didn't care about his appearance, he just didn't care what people thought of it.
In his neighborhood he wasn't very popular even if he was constantly hit on by a certain popular white haired girl.
He hated being forced to "hang out" with a certain blue idiot and his friends for many reasons.
One reason was that he HATED how immature they were.
Always running around, randomly breaking into dance, listening to shitty music, and overall their lack of class.
Maybe it was
Why Fight This Feeling?Why Fight This Feeling?Why Fight This Feeling? by ThePenVsTheSword
Tails was confused.
That in itself was a rarity to say the least. The young genius had an IQ matching several of the smartest people in the world and could figure out the odds and ends of nearly any machine, explaining in full detail how it worked. Not to mention that he was the proud inventor of several contraptions that not only consisted of helping him around the workshop, such as a vending machine that spat out whatever tool he requested or a stove that would cook food and flip or stir it when it sensed it was well done, but also aided the Sonic team as well. The blue hedgehog himself had acknowledged that without Tails, "Eggman would've gotten us by now".
Yet this girl puzzled him to no end. Perhaps it was due to him never feeling connected to any girl like her before. Sure he would admit that he was a bit shy in social situations, but the sandy fox believed that he was able to freely socialize with most people.
Or maybe it was because this was the first ki
Anniversary Waltz: Chapter 2Chapter 2: Dreaming of YouAnniversary Waltz: Chapter 2 by ThePenVsTheSword
Music. That was what Tails heard. Regal, formal music. His eyes fluttered open. He was not in his bed, but outside, in thick grass teeming with the insects of the nights. He picked himself up. There was a large palace nearby that he had seen before. The music was drifting through its open windows and doors.
Tails smiled. She would be there. She always was when he visited this place. He ran to the palace, slipping by all the guests pouring in. He sought her out in the central ballroom. But the room could house at least three amphitheaters, or in this case, hundreds, if not thousands, of dancing visitors.
If he knew her, and he did, she would find him soon. Tails tried to search anyway, working his way out from the center. Soon he was trailing by the gigantic windows that opened to the night sky. Despite the many bright lights in the room, the stars above were shining through.
A hand rested on his shoulder. Delicate, soft velvety fingers that he had memo
Anniversary Waltz: Chapter 3Chapter 3- Finding LoveAnniversary Waltz: Chapter 3 by ThePenVsTheSword
Ding! Cosmo. Ding! Tails sat up in bed. He was home. It had all been a dream. A dream. That's right, he thought.
"It is currently seven thirty A.M.," his alarm clock droned. He pushed the screen aside and hopped out of bed. "Today's weather is sunny. Chance of rain: ten percent. High of seventy-seven degrees."
Tails climbed downstairs in time to witness his machine making breakfast. Today it was set to cook pancakes and eggs. The baking mix slid along a zipline from the pantry. When it was positioned over a bowl, it was tilted over by a metal beam. The refrigerator opened, popping out a dozen eggs. A few were caught by a catcher's mitt above the bowl. Robotic claws retrieved the eggs, cracked them on the counter, poured the yolk in the bowl, and deposited the shells neatly in the trash. A tube connected to the milk carton in the fridge drained the last of the milk as more claws added a few other ingredients.
"Please replace: milk," a
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