also since im here anyway, would you be okay with a request? feel free not to, of course. could we get a sonic x reader, preferably gn, who's been dead for decades and is a ghost/spirit who's been stuck in the world of the living and is just kind of chilling and entertaining themselves however they can?
finally getting to this!! so very sorry for radio silence, im in the middle of midterms rn so I haven't had much writing time. this is such a fun creative prompt, reminds me of ghosts of the future by evan stanley! i listened to lover, you should have come over by jeff buckley while listening to this which i lowkey think is crucial for extra vibes. thank you lots and lots, this is long, hope you enjoy ‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
─── ★ ˙ gender neutral reader, supernatural, light angst, reader-centric, semi-unrequited love
✶ Haunting a hero is, frankly, the best entertainment you've had in a long time.
✶ Sonic doesn't know you exist, of course. Being incorporeal isn't the most conducive state to be in for introducing yourself to someone. But still, trailing after him has been... nice.
✶ As a spirit, you're able to form weak little attachments with objects/people, allowing you to haunt them. It's not necessarily negative, considering you're (probably) not a malicious spirit, so it's more so like you're just along for the ride. Maybe they feel a little chill every now and then, maybe they notice a sense of wistfulness in their chest that isn't their own. Otherwise, as long as you don't try anything, it's harmless.
✶ Key words, as long as you don't try anything. You have the capacity to be a bit of a mental poltergeist, straining yourself to trip people up or confuse them. It's nothing huge, but maybe that's because you don't practice.
✶ It feels good to haunt something. Really, the living treat it like some terrifying thing, but they just don't get it. When you haunt someone, it's like... having terrible vision and then putting on a perfect pair of glasses. It's the pleasant tingles of warmth from a blanket after playing in the snow. It's eating a favorite food you thought you'd never eat again, the flavor washing over your tastebuds in a brilliant, bright wave. It lets your dead little heart remember what it was like to beat, even slightly.
✶ So, haunting Sonic is... oh, wow.
✶ He goes everywhere. You'd thought you'd visited a good deal of places since you died decades ago, the lack of exhaustion making traveling a matter of patience rather than effort, but sticking yourself to him makes it feel like you're flying a private jet to the most interesting places and scenarios you could possibly think of.
✶ To Apotos, to Green Hill, to each of his friends houses, to Spagonia and back again. A thrilling zip into one of Eggman's bases, seemingly just for the hell of it. A run up a mountain to catch the best possible view of the sunset.
✶ All in only a few hours, not including the time spent hanging out with his little group. You'd be dizzy if you were alive.
✶ Depending on the strength of the soul of whatever you're attaching yourself to, you feel more through the connection with them- and Sonic's is, without doubt, the brightest burning soul you've ever come near.
✶ Normally you don't really physically feel what your hauntee feels- just preciously vauge impressions- but with Sonic, it's as though the sensation of his shoes striking the ground reverberates through him and into you. He feels things so sincerely and so intensely it's overwhelming. Every punch, every kick has such a vast amount of earnesty and intent behind it that your own phantasmical knuckles wince in sympathy. You didn't even know you could feel a wince, not anymore.
✶ And he's good. However you died, be it natural or miserably unnatural causes, you've found in death that pain and cruelty is everywhere, and you have decades of increasingly cynical experience to back it up.
✶ You've tried to keep some whimsy over the years. You've tried to make the best of your situation, trapped in limbo be damned. But sensation, emotions, memories... they dull over time, weakening like a muscle that's gone unstretched.
✶ Sonic makes that muscle burn like a runner's high.
✶ Whether you want to or not, it's unavoidable becoming a little more than just spectrally attracted. He's a beautiful beacon, and you're a grey moth fluttering to him with all the strength left in your tattered wings.
✶ He can't see you, but you're there. You arrange yourself in the empty chair opposite him at an outdoor cafe he stops by. You hover near the tree he's napping against, telling yourself you're keeping watch for him. You shed plasmic tears for his causes and what's left of your soul screams with the effort of guiding his hand against his enemies.
✶ He can't see you, but you talk to him anyway, recalling pieces of your life that have stayed intact in your memories over the years and asking about his past, even though you know he won't respond. You're a steady presence on his long runs to nowhere, trying to send encouragement his way whenever you can. He talks to himself, sometimes, and you listen with rapt attention.
✶ You're really certain he can't see you, but yesterday he bought two chili dogs.
✶ Which, is normal. You know this about him now. What was less normal was when he turned from the stand and held one out to thin air before blinking in sudden confusion.
✶ Like he had bought lunch for two instead of one. Like he was expecting someone to be there.
✶ He seems to just shrug the feeling away, polishing off both 'dogs without too much thought, but the needling feeling in your gut (or his? when did you entwine your spirit with his so closely for this to be confusing?) stops you in the air.
✶ You start noticing more things. He talks to himself more now, and it’s more conversational than the curious little musings he allowed himself before. Sometimes, when he fights, and you expend a not-insignificant amount of energy trying to trip up his enemy somehow or make sure his hits land, he gets this baffled look on his face, staring at his hands once the enemy is defeated and looking around for... seemingly nothing.
✶ It's quite painful to be incorporeal and effectively mute. You haven't felt that quite so strongly since the first year you were dead.
✶ Sonic. Oh, Sonic. Every time he laughs or shrugs off what is undoubtedly, undoubtedly his gleaming soul recognizing yours it's like a bit of you dies all over again.
✶ But still. You suppose it means you really are being some kind of companion for him, whether he understands or not. It will have to be enough.
✶ You don't know how long this goes on.
✶ Months, at the very least. This upcoming battle is the biggest one you've personally seen, though you've heard your dear mortal has been through much worse. The fight is hard still, too hard, and the Chaos Emeralds (you've glimpsed them before, in your time. the raw energy is almost painful for you to be around now.) are discussed and brought out.
✶ Sonic uses them. He becomes a supernova. Or maybe a black hole. The enemy is soundly defeated.
✶ Still that breathtaking star, he turns, now red eyes searching the decimated battlefield. For what, you can't imagine, wispy form shivering from the power radiating from him.
✶ But he turns to you. And his gaze, for the first time, meets yours. And he smiles at you.
✶ He tells you he's sorry it took forever just to say hello to you properly. He tells you he's always liked your company. He tells you you're beautiful.
✶ You hope he'll still see you when the emeralds wear off. You don't know if you could take him not seeing you after this.
✶ But for now, you feel alive. You'll cherish it.
