catboyklug

[catboyklug]

hi guys. funny thought. what if the knight isn't dess - it's dess's dust?

i dont really have a way of coherently putting together all my thoughts so i'll just dump em out

essentially, i was thinking, we already know that dead people can sort of "come back to life" in darkworlds. we also know that darkners can only hold their form in dark worlds, but certain ones (like ralsei, specifically) can go through worlds at will.

we don't actually get to see what the knight looks like when they're outside of the dark world. they even seem to completely disappear when out of it. but what if, instead of simply moving through the worlds however ralsei does, someone picked up whatever item they were and brought them to the next dark world? (the implication here is that it's noelle's mom, carol, who's doing this)

okay, now that we have a basis for the knight being a darkner, and it's probably dess (she disappeared a while ago, the sword originally looks like a baseball bat, the horns, etc.), let's continue on why i think it's not exactly dess, but rather her dead body/remains.

first of all, while we already know lightners go through transformations upon entering the dark world, they tend to not be as extreme as changing their shape. in fact, we haven't seen anything to imply that being in a dark world for long, or for any time at all, would completely change the way someone looks to where dess would become the knight. therefore, in order for dess to go through a similar transformation as an object would when it becomes a darkner, dess would herself have to be an object - such as dust, or a lifeless body.

another thing that i personally would count towards this theory is the way the knight shifts. it seems somewhat like a liquid, or at least is extremely malleable. and there's another type of being we know that's extremely malleable/liquid, and has been getting a lot of references lately...

the amalgamates. those brought back to life with DT, who ended up fusing together after their bodies became liquid/flesh.

anyway thats just my theory

[catboyklug]

fic breakdown below

The sky just before-after night.

The rotting pear-shaped organism floating above a sea of blood.

^ describing the uterus, during the period (and implied after not having one for a Long time)

“You get what this means.”

“Explain it to me like I’m twelve,” she grins, face turned away from the knife in her hand.

“That wasn’t a question,” the shadow repeats, “You’re the one giving meaning to this. I’m just being dragged along for the ride.”

the shadow is nine, who isn't actually a character in the RP

“Right. Sure.”

Flesh sloughs from the pear-shaped thing onto her blade.

uterine lining shedding / implying what's going to happen next

Hesitation strikes, oddly enough.

tails does not want to hurt anyone

“You do realize you’re the only one who can save him, right? Nobody else even has a clue.”

“I know.”

“Then do it,” the shadow says, annoyance sharp as the blade. “Neither of us want to see him suffer needlessly over all of this. We can stop it.”

yea

Long-forgotten words fall, from the sky and into her lap. Soft, round, familiarly-accented and beautiful. Change, life, growth, love.

“It’s not our choice to make,” she recites from the pile, her eyes skipping over her favorites as she tries to ignore the past.

sonic is pro choice lol 👍

“Yes, it is,” the shadow growls, “And we’re the only ones who can make it. So do. it.”

Even underneath the flesh, the blade gleams beautifully in the sunset’s dying light.

It’s beautiful. All of it is so, so beautiful. The most beautiful thing she’s seen in years.

Her muzzle turns towards the sky. To the rotting organ above her, practically begging for respite against the torture its faced.

It’s not her decision to make.

But it has to be.

Against all odds,

Against everything she has ever been told,

She raises the knife.

It’s a young man’s deathbed - at the very least,

it could be.

The air is heavy, thick -

the grief is palpable.

He may never sing again.

The hospital light fades into dark, and the dark shies away from the artificial-artificial light that shines from the Never-Real gemstone.

WOAAHAHHHHH EPIC TWEIN PEKAS REIFBNEKFENFNCE

“This hasn’t happened before.”

A twisted type of speech echoes from her throat, in greeting to one she hates the most.

He doesn’t respond.

All song; life; any retorts; words; are all dead in his throat before he speaks. He is, in essence, a corpse.

still in shock after an extremely traumatic thing

This should bring her joy.

tails thinks being traumatized is bad. Secretl.y

“I’m dealing with it. The thing you made. That new-type of curse.”

He blinks, maybe in acknowledgement.

“If it were up to me, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

she is extremely against her brother dating this loser

The memory of a scoff is exhaled from his throat. For a moment, she understands him.

No longer than a moment, she understands.

theyre both bitchesssss

“I’ll deal with it.”

The spotlight fades.

She stares.

It’s a small island.

The light in an apartment beside her flickers. A shadow enters her sight, then leaves.

Blood drips from the ceiling of her all-too-comfortable home.

Blue, red. The mix comes naturally.

There is a red light on the horizon. One she can’t recognize.

The deep midnight sky could be considered blue.

Comfort, or fear, seeps through nothing into something.

^ literally 90% of this was written as i watched the windows of my neighbors

She does not live in an apartment.

this is a reference to the fact that she doesnt live in an apartment (but i do)

Her house is short, squat. Her bedroom is on the other side of the house, hidden by mounds of what people considered garbage.

She’s dealing with it.

She’s dealt with it.

^ smn that i've repeated a lot, especially recently. a promise to handle things bigger than ourselves, even at our own detriment. not asking for help, just dealing with things. this hurts me and it can annoy and upset others. in this context, it hurts her and other people.

One of the lights is off. The other blinks, slowly, in monotone rainbow.

Blood drips down the side of her face - red -

Onto her gloves, the substance inside - blue.

Now, she is a new type of death. She feels it in the smell that reaches her as she forces herself out of the cockpit, onto the grass, into the world like the thing she just stopped from coming into the world.

describing birth, and the potential birth she thinks she stopped

A stream of consciousness that will never make it past the first stage. Stopped before it could start. A project that will never see the light of day.

It did not take the mech to do this.

The mech of that cell was not so strong.

describing pregnancy

She has done this with her own two, four, eight, five-thousand hands.

epic the scary jokes reference

She has stopped it from ever beginning.

abortion yay

3 part stream of consciousness dream fic abt a barely anywhere near canon au i've been writing in a cave alone for 500000 years and also with roleplay partners

The sky just before-after night.

The rotting pear-shaped organism floating above a sea of blood.

“You get what this means.”

“Explain it to me like I’m twelve,” she grins, face turned away from the knife in her hand.

“That wasn’t a question,” the shadow repeats, “You’re the one giving meaning to this. I’m just being dragged along for the ride.”

“Right. Sure.”

Flesh sloughs from the pear-shaped thing onto her blade.

Hesitation strikes, oddly enough.

“You do realize you’re the only one who can save him, right? Nobody else even has a clue.”

“I know.”

“Then do it,” the shadow says, annoyance sharp as the blade. “Neither of us want to see him suffer needlessly over all of this. We can stop it.”

Long-forgotten words fall, from the sky and into her lap. Soft, round, familiarly-accented and beautiful. Change, life, growth, love.

“It’s not our choice to make,” she recites from the pile, her eyes skipping over her favorites as she tries to ignore the past.

“Yes, it is,” the shadow growls, “And we’re the only ones who can make it. So do. it.”

Even underneath the flesh, the blade gleams beautifully in the sunset’s dying light.

It’s beautiful. All of it is so, so beautiful. The most beautiful thing she’s seen in years.

Her muzzle turns towards the sky. To the rotting organ above her, practically begging for respite against the torture its faced.

It’s not her decision to make.

But it has to be.

Against all odds,

Against everything she has ever been told,

She raises the knife.

It’s a young man’s deathbed - at the very least,

it could be.

The air is heavy, thick -

the grief is palpable.

He may never sing again.

The hospital light fades into dark, and the dark shies away from the artificial-artificial light that shines from the Never-Real gemstone.

“This hasn’t happened before.”

A twisted type of speech echoes from her throat, in greeting to one she hates the most.

He doesn’t respond.

All song; life; any retorts; words; are all dead in his throat before he speaks. He is, in essence, a corpse.

This should bring her joy.

“I’m dealing with it. The thing you made. That new-type of curse.”

He blinks, maybe in acknowledgement.

“If it were up to me, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

The memory of a scoff is exhaled from his throat. For a moment, she understands him.

No longer than a moment, she understands.

“I’ll deal with it.”

The spotlight fades.

She stares.

It’s a small island.

The light in an apartment beside her flickers. A shadow enters her sight, then leaves.

Blood drips from the ceiling of her all-too-comfortable home.

Blue, red. The mix comes naturally.

There is a red light on the horizon. One she can’t recognize.

The deep midnight sky could be considered blue.

Comfort, or fear, seeps through nothing into something.

She does not live in an apartment.

Her house is short, squat. Her bedroom is on the other side of the house, hidden by mounds of what people considered garbage.

She’s dealing with it.

She’s dealt with it.

One of the lights is off. The other blinks, slowly, in monotone rainbow.

Blood drips down the side of her face - red -

Onto her gloves, the substance inside - blue.

Now, she is a new type of death. She feels it in the smell that reaches her as she forces herself out of the cockpit, onto the grass, into the world like the thing she just stopped from coming into the world.

A stream of consciousness that will never make it past the first stage. Stopped before it could start. A project that will never see the light of day.

It did not take the mech to do this.

The mech of that cell was not so strong.

She has done this with her own two, four, eight, five-thousand hands.

She has stopped it from ever beginning.

[catboyklug]

3 part stream of consciousness dream fic abt a barely anywhere near canon au i've been writing in a cave alone for 500000 years and also with roleplay partners

The sky just before-after night.

The rotting pear-shaped organism floating above a sea of blood.

“You get what this means.”

“Explain it to me like I’m twelve,” she grins, face turned away from the knife in her hand.

“That wasn’t a question,” the shadow repeats, “You’re the one giving meaning to this. I’m just being dragged along for the ride.”

“Right. Sure.”

Flesh sloughs from the pear-shaped thing onto her blade.

Hesitation strikes, oddly enough.

“You do realize you’re the only one who can save him, right? Nobody else even has a clue.”

“I know.”

“Then do it,” the shadow says, annoyance sharp as the blade. “Neither of us want to see him suffer needlessly over all of this. We can stop it.”

Long-forgotten words fall, from the sky and into her lap. Soft, round, familiarly-accented and beautiful. Change, life, growth, love.

“It’s not our choice to make,” she recites from the pile, her eyes skipping over her favorites as she tries to ignore the past.

“Yes, it is,” the shadow growls, “And we’re the only ones who can make it. So do. it.”

Even underneath the flesh, the blade gleams beautifully in the sunset’s dying light.

It’s beautiful. All of it is so, so beautiful. The most beautiful thing she’s seen in years.

Her muzzle turns towards the sky. To the rotting organ above her, practically begging for respite against the torture its faced.

It’s not her decision to make.

But it has to be.

Against all odds,

Against everything she has ever been told,

She raises the knife.

It’s a young man’s deathbed - at the very least,

it could be.

The air is heavy, thick -

the grief is palpable.

He may never sing again.

The hospital light fades into dark, and the dark shies away from the artificial-artificial light that shines from the Never-Real gemstone.

“This hasn’t happened before.”

A twisted type of speech echoes from her throat, in greeting to one she hates the most.

He doesn’t respond.

All song; life; any retorts; words; are all dead in his throat before he speaks. He is, in essence, a corpse.

This should bring her joy.

“I’m dealing with it. The thing you made. That new-type of curse.”

He blinks, maybe in acknowledgement.

“If it were up to me, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

The memory of a scoff is exhaled from his throat. For a moment, she understands him.

No longer than a moment, she understands.

“I’ll deal with it.”

The spotlight fades.

She stares.

It’s a small island.

The light in an apartment beside her flickers. A shadow enters her sight, then leaves.

Blood drips from the ceiling of her all-too-comfortable home.

Blue, red. The mix comes naturally.

There is a red light on the horizon. One she can’t recognize.

The deep midnight sky could be considered blue.

Comfort, or fear, seeps through nothing into something.

She does not live in an apartment.

Her house is short, squat. Her bedroom is on the other side of the house, hidden by mounds of what people considered garbage.

She’s dealing with it.

She’s dealt with it.

One of the lights is off. The other blinks, slowly, in monotone rainbow.

Blood drips down the side of her face - red -

Onto her gloves, the substance inside - blue.

Now, she is a new type of death. She feels it in the smell that reaches her as she forces herself out of the cockpit, onto the grass, into the world like the thing she just stopped from coming into the world.

A stream of consciousness that will never make it past the first stage. Stopped before it could start. A project that will never see the light of day.

It did not take the mech to do this.

The mech of that cell was not so strong.

She has done this with her own two, four, eight, five-thousand hands.

She has stopped it from ever beginning.

[catboyklug]

smn im definitely keeping is kid sonic's sheer level of rudeitude but im like. kinda editing/expanding it a tiny bit i guess. its p obvious/can already be headcanoned from base stuff but all the rudeness is is in act and a way to get his anger at his parents & situation out without like. blowing himself up or smn.

when hes just alone w tails hes a really sweet and caring (if at times oblivious) big brother, hes more than willing to throw away adventuring for a while just to take care of the keed if they get hurt or sick and most of the time. feels so much love n care but just hides it behind being a jerk to 'save face'

speaking of him & tails. as closed off as he is i also think hes more honest in general around the keed. doesnt bother hiding stuff from them as much. obviously he doesnt tell em everything, esp. when it comes to stuff hes worried will make him seem weak, but hes fine w admitting stuff like he actually does care abt what knux yaps abt/cares abt him in general or does really want to be amys friend (hes just scared of her) or actually does like being around the freedom fighters even if he teases and messes w em a lot (hes not as mean to sally cause he liiiiiikes her tho [heteronormativity messing w his genuine platonic love for her. theyll figure it out someday])

i should also mention our sonic doesnt like. manhandle other kids. hes not THAT mean. hes just kind of snippy

[catboyklug]

[catboyklug]

gonna mention some of our sonics most important/active alters rq

sonic's polyfragmented & has well over a hundred alters so we're just mentioning the ones we have names / ideas for.

also scourge is in here. Is scourge also a guy seperate from sonic? we may never know... (the answer is literally just yes)

Pilot (he/him, neos?)

what they do: fuck all ; took away all of sonic's knowledge and muscle memory abt the tornado so he could fly it.

front tells: has a special salute he offers to everyone - two fingers on his temple, then finger-guns

relationship w/ others: when sonic realized hes the reason it suddenly started sucking at piloting the tornado, it fought him for DAYS. the two are on good terms now but sonic's still salty about the whole thing

description: dark brown fox. fur's only a little lighter than sonic's original quill/fur color

Survival (none)

what they do: keeps the body calm & focused when thrown into a survival/panic state ; fragment

front tells: acts prettymuch just like a hedgehog. snuffl snuffl

relationship w/ others: n/a

description: classic sonic but hes covered in mud

Protection (none)

what they do: split specifically to keep tails safe if sonic shut down during a battle, now helps everyone - including sonic ; fragment

front tells: completely nonverbal ; one-track mind worse than sonic's

relationship w/ others: n/a

description: classic sonic but hes covered in wounds :[

Scourge (it/he)

what they do: one-up sonic at every opportunity. obviously

front tells: usually him screaming "SCOURGE IS BACK, BABY!!!"

relationship w/ others: everyone either hates or loves him ; outside the body, amy thinks he sucks but is glad he's less sexist now, tails used to think he's scary but now just thinks he's kinda lame, and knux... has opinions.

description: YOU KNOW IT BABY!!!!

Cog (they/it)

what they do: exist. tries to keep the body away from drugs

front tells: higher-pitched voice, talks more like AoSTH / classic sonic; uses contact lenses that look like metal sonic's eyes

relationship w/ others: a lot of people jokingly hate em but most r kinda worried for em ; outside, theyre best friends with basically all badniks (though they have a somewhat rocky friendship with omega) and consider them to be its siblings

description: thinner sonic, wilting quills and its bones are painted chrome.

Mary-Ann (they/them)

what they do: split to give tails familial affection when sonic got burnt out, & later got the Secondary Task of avoiding like. CPS and stuff. ; now that they dont have to do that they get to just chill

front tells: softer tone of voice, body language is completely different and a lot slower

relationship w/ others: sonic feels bad abt pushing so much onto her even though it wasnt his fault or choice. theyre chill tho ; outside, they have a kinda-friendship with shadow since theyre the one who introduced him to the fact sonic's a system. tails loves them, and even outside of their purpose they care abt him too

description: porcupine mobian. looks a little more like an irl animal

Fleet (he/it/xe)

what they do: anger/rage/fear holder, used to be a fragment ; fronts whenever sonic goes super out of stress, or if he gets too upset when using the chaos emeralds to go super

front tells: extremely obvious. totally different way of speaking, maine/british accent (maine accent it picked up somewhere, british accent is the body's default); when fronting while super bc of the chaos emeralds, they morph him into what he looks like in headspace, but if he's just fronting due to stress all that changes is his quills are Wayyyyy messier. hard to miss him!

relationship w/ others: sonic tried to force him into permanent dormancy for years, which didnt work and caused him to take over the body for a few weeks ; he probably did meet ebony and pyjamas, both of whom unfortunately misunderstood his entire Him and hurt him a lot, but they managed to make up after xe worked thinks out with sonic and theyre rlly close friends now :]

description: it is fleetway :]

Prime (he/it)

what they do: secondary host

front tells: way, WAY more physically and verbally affectionate towards his friends; more open (obvious) about his emotions, doesnt bother hiding them as much (especially when he thinks it might be funny); a little more over the top with everything, especially his mannerisms - many of which he picked up directly from eggman

Sonic (he/it)

what they do: primary host

front tells: it's sonic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ; rlly easy to tell when hes fronting again after a while bc he immediately picks up from the last convo you had w him (if he remembers) or challenges you to a race (if he doesnt)

relationships w/ others: VERY rocky. didnt accept he was a system for a while - he knew he was one since before the concept was given the name it has now but he was iffy on the whole "other people in his brain" thing and dealt with it HORRIBLY. this is a horrible combination of STC and IDW sonic so you know he was just being a huge inconsiderate jerk to everyone for YEARS. his reaction to the chaos emeralds giving a bunch of his alters their own bodies was fear and disgust instead of joy or even vague curiosity; even though he's repairing his relationships with everyone and going to therapy and getting support from his friends and allat, he still doesnt really like just... not having access to his body all the time. he doesnt like not being at front, it feels Bad, esp. when he misses big important dates. sorry man you got hit with the reverse curse idk what to tell you

description: ITS SONIC!!!

YUP THATS LITERALLY ALL I HAVE FOR NOW!!!

maybe ill make some more stuff with these guys and more specific alters but ive had this sitting in my drafts for like a month now so . it needs to be posted 👍

[catboyklug]

[catboyklug]

Characters: Miles "Tails" Prower [ they / them ] ; Sonic the Hedgehog [ he / it ]

Warnings: Emeto ; mention of disordered eating

Notes: i think this is probably the shortest fic i've ever written? ever???

Words: 326 (????)

Dawn breaks, filling Mystic Ruins with warmth.

Though very little light reaches the jungle floor, each and every thing that lives there - from the wild birds to the smallest plants - feels the sun's presence.

Every animal raises their head to the sky, either finding it the prompt they need to hide in their burrows, or what they need to know it's time to begin the day.

Except for two.

Thick black-out curtains drawn, not a mote of light enters the workshop of one Miles "Tails" Prower.

In temporal stasis, they've been floating through the days, perfectly unaware of what goes on outside. Never leaving their post.

Not for anyone.

Subsisting off the cans of food they've unintentionally saved up over the years, and the occassional gift from Sonic's friends, each day is lived on the bare minimum.

Not that they'd take anything more.

Sonic won't eat.

If Tails asks, he'll choke down mushed-up beans or plain vegetable broth. Choke. Shake. Sob.

But he doesn't eat.

He won't.

...

Tails looks down, and sees their own hands.

Heavily-lined hands covered in scars. Splashes from chemical spills, scrapes and bruises that never really healed. One of his fingers is still bent from when Metal broke his hand years ago.

They hold Sonic's hand in theirs. Tiny, soft, warm in their calloused-bruised-broken.

A long time ago, it was the opposite. Their brother's hand covered in callouses from playing the guitar without a pick, their hand was soft and fluffy; his hand was scraped from spindashing without gloves or getting caught on rocks when he tried to dig burrows, theirs pristine as the most intensive thing they did was occassionally repair the tornado.

But it hasn't played the guitar for months.

A sickness rises up from their stomach, and they instinctively swallow before anything even reaches their throat.

As they choke back tears and vomit, their brother lays there, not even an inch away.

Blissfully asleep.

Completely ignorant.

[catboyklug]

Characters: Sonic the Hedgehog [ he / it ] ; Miles "Tails" Prower [ they / them ] ; Dr. Ivo RoEggman [ he / him ] ; Mentioned: Orbot, Cubot [ he / him ]

Warnings: Eggman misgenders tails :/

Notes: sonic's Word of the Day is "hell"

Words: 1,301

Harsh light shines through the bars of the cage, mostly serving just to blind its occupant, obscuring the room he sits in as his eyes struggle to adjust.

The only potential comfort in the cell is the amount of space, which only truly serves to make it feel emptier than it already is.

Outside lay a long corridor, and below it what seems to be an arena. Neither of which are accessible from the cell, electronically and heavily locked, without a key.

Back inside, the sole occupant, Sonic the Hedgehog...

Is bored out of his damn mind.

It's been a month since he got captured, and nothing's happened.

Other than a brief moment of excitement - glee, honestly - that he got when he managed to convince Orbot and Cubot to give him some disinfectant and bandages for his wound, and the occassional Badnik giving him nutrient paste and tasteless "protein bars", nobody's come to visit.

On the one hand, he's not particularly bothered by this. To put it simply, the Resistance just doesn't have enough horsepower to break orbit, so it's not like anyone could come searching for him.

On the other, he doesn't like it at all.

Eggman's planning something.

Well, obviously, duh. Eggman's always cooking up some scheme or another.

But everything about this specific time feels different.

The egghead's never tried to kidnap him before. Never succeeded, either.

There's something else going on here. Something bigger than Eggman...

Or maybe someone?

Before he can ruminate for much longer, a screen comes out of the ceiling.

Weird...

It moves itself so he can see it, stays blank for a few seconds more, then lights up, prompting Sonic to blink at the sudden bright.

On it, it shows a live feed of...

"Tails?"

They're on the surface, gripping their Miles Electric like a lifeline. Too busy with whatever's on it to care if they might be in danger - which, if Eggman's able to watch him, they absolutely are.

They walk through the empty streets, sticking close to buildings but never slipping into them. Not even considering that they should be trying to hide, keep themself safe...

Sonic frowns. That's not like its little bro at all. Sure, they can be a little reckless if they get too confident, but they're usually at least careful enough to match that recklessness.

So what the hell're they thinking?

Suddenly, the camera zooms in, showing what Tails is looking for.

Access to the Eggnet.

The location of the Death Egg.

The presumed location of Sonic.

Well, that's sweet, but they still should be thinking of themself! He's more than fine here, even if he's stuck in a tiny, kinda gross cage. Tails is the one who's in danger.

Furrowing his brow, tapping his foot, Sonic stands up and walks closer to the screen.

Then, he notices...

Tails is shaking.

But it's not with fear, Sonic catches that instantly. If they were afraid, they'd be a hell of a lot more cautious than they're being now.

No, they're shaking with...

Grief?

...Oh, shit.

Tail falling, ears flat against his head, Sonic continues watching as realization washes over him.

Tails must think he's dead.

Beaten to crap, taken by Eggman, and then the Death Egg just disappears? No sight of hide nor hair for months, especially with his injuries?

But... they'd never give up on him. They haven't given up on him. They still got hope.

But it doesn't look like hope's what's propelling them forward as they feverishly input hundreds of passwords, desperately trying to get into Eggman's systems.

No, they're not running on hope.

They're running on desperation.

A gasp from the kit perks Sonic's ears back on, and his eyes widen as he watches the screen.

Several egg-droids advance on them, and they growl at the interruption.

Strapping the Miles Electric to their waistband, they turn to the opposition and revv up a spindash, more than ready to fight.

They destroy each of the droids with ease... except for one, which they simply disable, ripping its limbs apart and leaving it unable to move or attack.

The hell?

Instead of doing the, you know, logical course of action, and going to tell the Resistance about the attack, or even trying to find somewhere a little safer so Eggman doesn't send literal swarms of droids their way, Tails sits down, rips the disabled droid open, and shoves some sort of plug into some part of its circuitry.

They sit next to the droid, leaning against it as if it'd somehow give them some cover, and resume their work.

Sonic takes one last, forlorn look at the kit...

Then turns his face away.

"Yeah, I, uh... really don't get what you're trying to go for, here, Egghead," Sonic says, pretending to pick his nose to really show how unamused he is, "I mean, I appreciate the chance to check up on my baby brother, but..."

Ear flicking, he continues, humming.

"Y'know, just, remind me, what's your angle here, again? 'Cause I can't really critique your ideas if I don't even know where you're coming from."

Eyes lidded but brows raised, it scoffs as it hears an all too familiar "OOOOH-HOH-HOH!" through a mic somewhere in their room.

"Tell me, Sonic, do you not feel terrible, knowing your little brother is so willing to sacrifice his own life just to have a chance at saving yours?" Eggman laughs, "Doesn't it just tear you up inside? Torture you?"

Well, yeah, duh. Seeing Tails like that left a pit in his stomach, deep and gnawing, and it took practically everything Sonic had to not scream, beg for them to hear him, to know that he's here, he's okay-

But it's sure as hell not gonna tell Eggman that.

"Not really," he lies, more than convincing enough regardless, "Tails can take care of themself - it is themself, by the by. You're nowhere near earning the right to just call them whatever you wanna."

Hilariously enough, this gives Eggman pause - seems he didn't realize being archenemies for years doesn't automatically make you friends.

"Nevermind the brat's pronouns!!!" Eggman yells, minding the brat's pronouns, "Showing you their state was only phase one of my plan! I'll get to you soon enough, Sonic! Just wait and see!"

"Yeah, the only thing getting to me is the quality of the grub here, it's awful," Sonic grins, not threatened in the slightest, "You're super-rich or whatever, right? Can't you hire a chef, or something?"

"I've heard the food in the Resistance is quite good," Eggman smirks, "Why don't you tell me where it is, and I'll kidnap one of its chefs for you?"

"Yeah, not a chance," Sonic yawns, "Convo's boring now, so I'm gonna take a nap. You don't mind, do ya, eggface?"

Eggman grumbles, but at least, to his credit, he does turn the mic off, letting silence fill the room.

Letting out a contented sigh, Sonic plops himself down on the prison bed he'd been resting these past few nights, rests his arms behind his head, and...

Doesn't sleep.

His mind's full of thoughts of Tails. His little bro.

Are they still with the Resistance, or did they run off? Were they alone, or did someone insist on accompanying them, to make sure they wouldn't get hurt?

Why they hell couldn't they think of themself for once?

Why'd it have to be about him and not them?

Sonic doesn't let an ounce of emotion grace his face.

He won't give Eggman any fuel.

But his spikes puff out, and he shakes a little, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball, clutch his chest fur and pretend it's the little brother he selfishly left behind.

He's gotta get out of her. And quick.

Good thing speed's just his style...

[catboyklug]

Characters: Gadget the Wolf [ they / them ] ; Oath the Ferret [ they / she ] ; Chord the Badger [ xe/xer ] ; Muscle the Pika [ zhe / it / they ]

Warnings: minor, not super described injury; very short moments of fear

Notes: anyone else remember that one really big crab you kick the ass of in forces? Well. What if it was awesome. ; dividers by @rookthornesartistry !!

Words: 3794

It's been half a week since the squad set out, and they're starting to get bored.

The five of them have been patrolling the same small zone around the Resistance HQ for months now, as Gadget and Oath are still early in training, but it's clear that every single one of them is more than tired of the area.

"Chord," Knuckles calls, "I'd like you to do some recon. See if you can find anything

Thankful for the excuse to finally stop sitting down, xe nods, patting xeir wispon to encourage her wisp to go inside.

"I won't go too far," xe teases, waving to xeir teammates as xe looks for some soft ground.

It doesn't take too long for them to find it - a neglected park, full of nice, soft dirt.

Xe takes a moment to appreciate the nature that surrounds xem.

Then, xe focuses.

Xe feels the ground, and finds loose dirt. A significantly wilder animal considered making a burrow here, but thought the better of it.

Better for xem, anyway.

Xe uses xeir wispon to dig deep, then far. Under the concrete, the steel, the foundations of the apartment and office and supermarket buildings.

Searching for vibrations in, under, on the earth.

Boots on the ground. A scraping under dirt. Any pressure on the soil.

Anything.

...And, to xeir horror, xe finds something.

As soon as xe feels it, xe digs back to the surface, rushing back to the group.

Noticing xeir horrified expression, Muscle frowns.

"Everything good, girl?" zhe asks in that too-soft voice of zhers, letting zher drawl escape the cage zhe put it in.

Even if xe can't calm down, Chord appreciates the attempt at comfort.

"A very large group of Badniks is rapidly approaching," xe explains, "And, something else... It-"

Suddenly, xe turns, looking at the horizon.

Shit.

"...It's already here."

It's impossible to miss. The behemoth on the skyline, blotting out the sun.

It crashes through several buildings, using its spikes to break the hardy but neglected concrete.

As it approaches, every member of the squad can see it in its full, ugly glory.

A massive crab-tank, spikes adorning its thick, heavily-armored legs.

Before it breaks the building the group had taken point at, they leap off it, grappling away.

Below them, the swarm of badniks that Chord felt flood the streets, giving no room for rest.

With a thumbs-up to the rest of the squad as he glides past them, Knuckles begins carving a path through the 'bots, giving rest to Oath and Muscle, neither quite used to using the grapple yet.

With the smaller threat being dealt with, xe turns to the greater adversary.

Despite how wild its movement seems, Chord quickly notices a pattern.

It's working on a grid, using its crab design to stick perfectly to it.

It keeps screeching to a halt at the ends of the paths it's taking, turning, then following the grid in the opposite direction, using its massive eyes to search for something.

And there's only one thing Eggman would send this earth-moving behemoth to find, and destroy.

"I believe it's looking for the entrance to the Resistance," Chord finally says over comms, "It's using a grid pattern - Eggman must have mapped out areas he believes the entrance could be."

Not too far from xem, Gadget and Oath look at the sea of badniks, taking temporary refuge near one of the entrances to the greater sewer area.

"It can't..." Gadget says, their voice dying in their throat.

They're the rookie, the baby of the team. Sure, everyone's been training together for months, including them, but...

They're still scared.

They shiver as a gentle hand meets their shoulder.

"It won't," Oath reassures, giving them a determined look, "We got this in the bag, team."

For a moment, it seems almost as if Gadget wants to argue with her. But, they nod, giving her a weak smile.

And so, the rookies set off.

Even as the buildings collapse around them, they simply turn it to their advantage, grappling or leaping off them to avoid the behemoth's attacks.

Though their movements aren't perfectly fluid, the team works well together. Oath uses her new Hover Wispon, with Gadget using their burst to create a slipstream, propelling them both far above the crab's attacks.

Meanwhile, Chord and Muscle practically dance together around the crab, looking for any potential weak points, taking occassional potshots at its metallic shell - and being very, very careful to avoid the massive spikes gracing its legs.

Knuckles sees them, looking up as he destroys the hordes of badniks below, and smiles.

Those months of training are definitely paying off...

Making good use of their positions close to the crab, Chord and Muscle look for any potential weak spots, and keep the crab in place so that the rest of their team don't have it figuratively breathing down their back.

The spikes that adorn the plates on its legs, its built-in defense gifted to it by its creator, are more than large enough to grapple onto without discomfort, but too sharp to land near without risking serious injury.

Getting onto it from the front would be reckless, to say the least, especially without enough height to try and land on one of the smooth patches of its carapace.

But, maybe...

Hatching a plan, Muscle slows down, keeping a tight grip on the grapple as zhe does.

Zhe swings to the other side of the leg, which thankfully isn't as fiercely defended, and lands on it safely.

Yes!

Grinning, zhe takes a look around - seems like Eggman didn't expect anyone to try and get back here.

Especially considering that every bit and bob that makes it tick is on full display, massive spotlights shining from its underbelly.

The only thing stopping zher from breaking it to pieces right now is - well, for one, it's starting to pick up speed again, and zhe'd rather not risk getting crushed. And two...

There's an odd dome surrounding the systems, and zhe has no idea if zher Wispon could break through or not.

Sighing with longing, zhe zips back to Chord, giving xem a thumbs-up and a smile.

Zhe taps a button on zher headset, and is instantly connected to the commline. Something zhe still can't help but be impressed by...

"I saw it!" zhe smiles, then blushes, mortified, as zhe realizes how enthusiastic zhe sounds.

"All its systems, hidden behind some kinda... bubble," zhe continues, "Plastic, I think. Shouldn't be too hard to break through."

"The stomach may be a weak point, then," Chord nods, "It definitely is a lead..."

"One lead.. More than enough," they straighten themself, attempting to project an air of confidence, but they're shaking...

While the others distracted the crab, Gadget had fallen back a bit, sitting on the roof of one of the only apartment buildings that hasn't yet been destroyed.

Mostly out of cowardace, they have to admit, but right now their position gave them a massive advantage. One they had to make use of now.

They step on the edge of the rooftop, looking below as the crab approaches them.

They only get one shot at this.

"Time to follow it."

Ignoring the shouts from their teammates, Gadget jumps off the building, grapples one of the crab-tank's head spikes, and uses the momentum to swing below it.

Underneath it looks far different, and the wolf can't help but laugh as they look above them - Muscle was right. The underbelly only has a single, thin layer of plastic protecting its most vulnerable systems.

With ease, they use the fire from their Wispon to melt it, even managing to catch some important-looking systems in the blast. Though, not without some retaliation...

Whatever they hit screeches as it melts, and they have to cover their ears to not be overpowered by the sound - unfortunate, considering they need to hang on to their grapple at the same time.

They fall away from the crab-tank, managing to slow their descent by grappling onto the windowsill of a crumbling building before they crash.

As they check themself for a concussion, the crab-tank itself begins to scream. It clearly isn't used to the pain...

"Good, great, spectacular!!!" Oath suddenly yells into the comms, blasting Gadget's already sensitive ears with more noise.

"Lucky hit," Gadget grumbles, holding the comm away from their ear, "Not safe to try again. Need a new plan."

"Incredible, show-stopping, MAGNIFICO!!!"

They can practically hear the flowers hitting the mic...

"I noticed something..." Chord pipes up, and Oath and Muscle calm down enough to let xem speak, "This crab-tank's eyes do not reach around it fully. Its blind spots are, to put it simply, enormous."

"So if someone distracts well enough..."

"It would not know what hit it," Chord smiles, "I believe just one of us would be enough to lead it away."

"Leave it to me! As in, I got it!" Oath shouts, excited again, "Don't worry, Muscle and Chord, you'll get a spot in the action soon enough!"

And with that, she swings away, the comm going silent except for the sound of wind and the crab-tank's creaking legs.

Sighing, Gadget dusts themself off and attempts to find higher ground again.

Their strategy worked once, they trust it could work again.

Using Gadget's earlier idea of grabbing onto the tank's head spikes, she grapples onto it, landing on its head before it can guess what's happening.

Looking around, she vaguely - worriedly - notices how little damage has been done to it. Hitting it directly on the head won't work at all, huh...

Absolutely sure the others know this, she resumes her plan, tying her grapple tightly around the plating that jutts off the front of its head.

Then, she takes a flying leap!

She swings around it, leading it like she's a carrot on a stick, making sure to get all of its eyes on her - and yelps a bit as it rushes sideways, trying to... attack her? Knock her off?

Whatever dumb plan it's trying to accomplish, it won't work - her tie's too tight, and she's way too good at dodging all the dust it's kicking up.

Using its one-track mind to her advantage, she starts leading it away from the few buildings it forgot to demolish, taunting it with rude gestures as she does.

On the ground, Chord and Muscle join the squad's leader in fighting the Badniks... At least until it's their time to return to the true fight taking place above them.

"I cannot help but notice how well this tank was built," Chord notes, zapping a badnik drone to bits, "It must have been meant for a stronger opposition..."

"I can't help but notice we haven't even tried a direct attack yet," Muscle yells, "Just smaking it a little isn't near enough to figuring out how durable it actually is. For all we know its hide's as flimsy and weak as the rest of the bots down here - we just need a good enough opening to whack it proper."

Chord shrugs, and Muscle sighs.

"We're not the A-Team yet, but we're tough," zhe points out, "Gimme one good shot at the thing and I'll have it down, I swear."

Chord raises an eyebrow.

"And you could put it down in half my time," zhe praises, grinning.

Unable to raise xeir brow any higher, Chord caves in and returns the grin, giggling a little.

"Good luck," xe calls, giving zher xeir blessing as zhe rushes to find higher ground.

Giving xem a thumbs-up, Muscle disappears into a cloud of dust, and Chord fights on alone.

Seems like broken buildings are better for more than cool backdrops...

Muscle crouches on a broken office chair sitting atop the pile of rubble that was once a thriving office building.

Good riddance, zhe thinks, looks prettier as a pile of dust than it ever was back then.

Even as zhe doesn't allow zherself to get distracted, zhe lets zherself bask in the pleasure that comes with knowing this building cannot be saved or salvaged...

But this war absolutely can.

The crab's finally gotten close enough.

With a whoop! zhe jumps off the building, grappling onto the side-spikes and pulling zherself onto its shell.

It feels even bigger to her, now that zhe's on top of it...

Not intimidated in the slightest, zhe raises zher Wispon, its edge sharper than ever-

And slams it down!

The sheer force that zhe hit it with shakes zher entire body, rattling zher up more than zhe's used to.

Once zhe stops shaking enough to see again, though, zhe notices...

There's no damage.

Zhe didn't even leave a dent.

Before zhe can recover any further, though, the crab notices the parasite that's landed on it...

And flicks it off its carapace.

Below - ahead - above zher, Chord shrieks--a gutteral, piercing thing.

Xe rushes to the impact site, using xeir wispon to zip over before the badniks or crab can.

Not having needed their comms to hear the sound, xeir teammates turn to her.

Oath and Gadget are too far away to help without compromising their position, now the only ones with any high ground to speak of.

This is it.

It has to be. There won't be another chance for a good while...

Through the chaos, the confusion, and the sudden split in teams, Gadget approaches the tank.

The flow of badniks is thin enough, the crab's focuse split enough, they can do this-

Before they can get too far, someone grabs their arm, nearly tearing it out of the socket.

Turning wildly, they calm when they see it's just Oath, having caught up with them at some point.

Barely any calmer, though, considering how pissed she looks.

"Gadget," Oath hisses, "Muscle's hurt. We need to go help."

She doesn't know their plan. That's fine, but they need to-

"Tell me why you're leaving them behind!"

Her voice hurts. Their ears lay flat on their head as they turn back to her.

"Can't fight you," they say, though their voice breaks, "It's time-"

"If you're not going to help them, I will," she growls, "Friends don't leave friends behind."

Wait, no.

No, no, no-

They need her help. They can't do this alone.

Before she can grapple away, they breathe in, and scream,

"OATH!"

Shocked, she turns around to face them.

"Please," they beg, lowing their voice nearly to a whisper, "Need to lead it away. Before it can..."

...Oh.

Of course.

With an apologetic smile, and a soft nod, she walks back to Gadget.

"Just tell me what to do."

They smile, eyes shining as their heart feels like it's about to explode with joy and relief.

They hold out their hand...

And Oath takes it, gripping tight.

Rushing toward the battlefield, they keep their hold on each other.

Propelling forward with their slipstream strategy, they match - no, exceed - the crab's speed, rushing to its side, in perfect view of its massive camera-eyes.

With a whistle and a wave, Oath grabs the crab's attention, and it uses its newfound voice to roar with anger at the specks of dust that just won't leave it alone.

Laughing a bit maniacally, Oath and Gadget fall from the buildings they were grappling from, using Oath's wispon to land, gracefully, onto the asphalt road.

And so, they race, past each crumbling building, every broken market, every entrance to the Resistance buried under rubble.

They run, following the path the crab-tank had torn through city and countryside in its attempt at destruction.

A path they can use as an arena...

Behind them, the crab-tank screams, utterly enraged. It pounds at the ground with its pincers, sending rocks and dust flying - and kicking up boulders as it does.

A new trick, for sure, but not one to get anxious about.

Even without the slipstream, the two could easily dodge the rocks being thrown at them, and they can't help but feel like their sheer speed is a bit overkill compared to the crab's fumbling.

Despite clearly not having a brain (or at least, not any smarts), the crab-tank recognizes it's being played with.

If it wasn't angry then, it's definitely angry now...

Exceeding what was thought to be its maximum speed in an attempt to reach them, it begins to steam, plumes of smoke following it like a cape.

It's catching up to them...

They've got a plan, but even so, a pang of uncertainty shoots through their shared heartbeat.

But even with the uncertainty, Gadget's heart is full of hope.

They turn to their friend, offering the hook of their grapple. Looking so serious, so determined, that she can't help but giggle.

Nodding, she ties her grapple to theirs, and they seperate.

Grinning, they turn, running backwards and sticking their tongues out at the adversary above them.

Once its acceleration begins to peak, the two shoot themselves upward and forward, sending themselves flying -

And behind them, the grotesque behemoth of a crab trips.

The sheer force it's sent flying at causes it to roll into a ball, unable to stop itself as it kicks up massive plumes of dust and sand.

With the smoke, rock-dust and debries in the air, it's impossible for either of them to see much of anything at all.

But, they both wonder, hesitantly, excitedly...

Is that it...?

The two find each other quickly, using their wispons as beacons. But the light emitted from them is too weak to pierce that far into the thick mist...

Once together again, they acknowledge each other with just a look, then break into a brisk run, searching for the crab.

After so much silence, the tension becomes uncomfortable heavy,

They turn toward each other, their faces mirroring each other's anxieties... and hopes.

Once they approach the crab, though, Gadget laughs in relief, and Oath sighs incredulously.

The tank fell on its back, spikes jutting into the hard ground.

Its legs flail, useless, above it.

It's completely stuck.

"So much for that..." Oath grimaces, resting her chin on her fist, "Seems like that Dr. Eggman guy really isn't even half of what he's cracked up to be."

Gadget can't response directly, shaking with laughter so hard they can't do anything but grip their stomach, but they make an effort - by shrieking with laughter, instead.

She gives an affectionate smile to the wolf, leaning against them as they continue laughing.

As she rests against them, though, her ear flicks - she hears someone coming.

She turns around, suspicious, but her shoulders fall with relief as she sees the rest of the squad approaching - including Muscle.

Zhe looks...

Well, more than a little beat up.

But alive.

Zher eyes twinkle as Oath rushes up to them, yelling with excitement - and Gadget scrambles to catch up, not wanting to miss out on the reunion.

"MUSCLE!!!" Oath cries, overjoyed, as she finally manages to reach the squad, gently wrapping her arms around her friend - a gesture immediately reciprocated, much to her joy.

"Crab-tank disabled. Not destroyed," Gadget explains, looking warily over their shoulder at its twitching limbs.

"You're going to be the one to break it, right?" Oath grins at Muscle, bouncing on her toes and wagging her tail, "Dish up some good old-fashioned revenge?"

"Nah."

Shocked, Oath stills.

"The spotlight's on you, kid. And you too, Gadget. I wouldn't take it away from you, now," zhe sighs, eyes soft, "But..."

Zhe twirls zher wispon, then hands it to Oath.

"My friend here would love to help you two out, if you'd have her."

Starstruck, Oath stares at the wispon in front of her, her tail wagging so hard it might sprain.

Muscle seems pleased with zherself - this is clearly the effect zhe was hoping for.

"I'd love to," she smiles, gently picking the wispon up out of Muscle's hands, then turns around towards the crab, "I'll make both of you proud, I swear!"

With that, she runs off, yelling for Gadget - who hadn't managed a word in edgewise - to race her there.

The crab's innards are big enough to run through, and both of them take full advantage of this fact, racing through the 'corridors' of its circuitry on a path of destruction.

Oath opens access to one of the more sensitive systems, Gadget weakens them with their burst, and then both crash into the weakened component.

With the adrenaline from earlier, and the rush of their destructive rampage, the two barely notice when the crab begins to overheat.

"IT'S GONNA BLOW-!"

Too panicked to remember to run, it's Gadget who steps up, grabbing her by the waist and running from the wreck.

Scrambling out of the crevice they were evicerating, they making a mad dash for anywhere that isn't where they are in the moment.

They run to the edge of its damaged underbelly, taking a flying leap off it, just as-

The tank explodes.

Tripping over a rock, they act as a meat-shield for Oath, keeping her safe from the debris and shrapnel and using their arm to cushion her against the hard ground.

Slowly, the adrenaline leaves, reminding Gadget that they are alive. Oath is in their arms, uninjured, safe. She is alive.

Once the smoke clears, and as Gadget worries about Oath and them getting lung problems with all the crap they've been breathing in recently, the wolf pokes their head up, looking at the scene.

The rest of their squad is, thankfully, unharmed. They were standing a good distance away from the crab when it self-destructed - and, as such, have no idea about Gadget's panic.

Good.

Knuckles cheers, Chord gives a thumbs-up. Muscle, even with zher injuries, hoots and hollers in joy.

Good.

Just as Gadget raises their arm to wave to them, however, they see...

Something.

A glint of light, amplified by the edge of their glasses.

They stand up, help Oath get up, and then head over to this mysterious object.

It lays, light refracting from it, in a pile of dust in the crater left by the crab-tank.

Gadget sees it.

They know it.

Green and glittering, even as covered in dust as it is.

It's unmistakable.

As they slide down the crater, they notice an odd color mixed in with the red.

Curious, Gadget hops over to it, reaching down, picking it up and gently wiping the dust off with the soft insides of their sleeves.

Then, they frown.

A long, dark crack goes down the length of the Chaos Emerald.

And, from it, the cracks grow new crystals.

Pink-red-black.

Humming with energy.

They turn to Oath, brow furrowed, and she returns the sentiment.

"That's no good..."

[catboyklug]

Please have heart and do not skip!

Donations needed urgently

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We don't ask for much, just 10€ should be enough!

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Note:the above art is the work of artist @catnapdreams thank you for this beautiful drawing ♥️🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

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[catboyklug]

Characters: Amy Rose [ she / her ]

Warnings: Talks extensively about being touch-starved; Amy is like 12 years old still

Notes: this was supposed to be a lot longer ; dividers once again by @rookthornesartistry !!

Words: 577

Papers have been sorted.

All security cameras are clear.

Everyone's doing their work.

And Amy's done here.

She sighs, slumping down in her chair in a decidedly unladylike way.

The war's only been going on for a couple of months, at most, but already she feels an exhaustion so deep it seeps into her bones.

She's been working for almost seven hours straight, and has been averaging probably 18-hour workdays every day since the week after the war began.

Maybe, now that she's on break, she could go visit Cream...

...Or try to bake something for everyone else...

...Or maybe grow half a brain again, and just rest.

Rest sounds good.

Even after grabbing the sides of her chair to push herself up, it takes a few seconds before she's standing again.

She hasn't been skimping out on wearing her knee braces, but that doesn't exactly help if the pain and weakness comes from sitting down instead of standing up...

Sighing, she powers through it, lifting up her cargo bag - huge, pink and covered in adorable patches and stickers - and limps out of her office and over to her room.

And now, hours later, she finds herself staring at the mottled-grey ceiling and wonders if she'll ever go back home.

Her room is the same as everyone else's. Grey bedding, grey walls, grey ceiling, dark floorboards.

Not wanting any special priveledges, she specifically asked for the room. It was cramped, and uncomfortable, but it did the trick. Plus, the other soldiers seemed to be relieved by her decision.

And, honestly? She was relieved, too.

Never ever, not once in her life, has she wanted to be anything but Amy Rose.

Amy Rose the independent, strong, fashionable, cute young woman. Amy Rose the comic artist. Amy Rose the seamstress.

But Amy Rose has never once, not ever, been the General of a war.

And Amy Rose is still a kid.

She's still just a kid...

And she still wants her room to be painted nice, warm, welcoming colors.

She wants big, sparkly stickers on the walls, and posters of all her favorite bands.

She wants a comfy bed, one that doesn't hurt her back so much to sleep on, with nice, fluffy pillows covered in hearts and stars and flowers and cute bugs.

And she wants a huge plushie to hug.

She wants anything or anyone to hug.

She wants...

...

She needs to calm down and stop crying.

It's her break! She's gotta rest up! Or, if she isn't going to rest, she should do something productive!

...But she doesn't want to.

She just wants to cry.

Cry, and wail, and scream, until someone comes to her, scoops her up in their arms and rocks her to sleep, telling her everything's gonna be okay; she's safe; she's loved;

But it isn't. She isn't. And she can change that, but she's tired, and grumpy, and feels so lost, and scared, and alone, and lonely,

And all the negative feelings well up, and she's trying so hard to be a good girl, a good general, a good everything. To be presentable, lovable, someone to look up to.

But it hurts. Every day it hurts. Every day...

She sobs, whispering these secrets to her thin, grey pillow, sniffling into the emptiness of her room.

She's alone. She's lonely. And that isn't going to change.

She's so tired.

Too tired to rest.

And she's convinced that won't ever change.

[catboyklug]

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐍𝐨. 𝟏

𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘨 @𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸.

ROSE RED

CERISE

FRENCH ROSE

ROSE POMPADOUR

TICKLE ME PINK

SALMON PINK

CHERRY BLOSSOM PINK

PINK

GRADIENT

[catboyklug]

Characters: Miles "Tails" Prower [ they / them ] ; Knuckles the Echidna [ he / they ] ; Gadget the Wolf [ they / them ]

Warnings: vague mentions of disordered eating; mentions of overworking

Notes:

Word count: 1.1k

The Resistance Tunnels have fallen near-silent, the only sound coming from the trains far above.

Howling whistles.

As if the tunnels themselves mourn the loss.

Though some have not yet given up hope, the calibre of Sonic's injuries have left most to believe he is gone.

In defiance of this theory, one of the few hopeful works in his room, alone, attempting to find any proof their brother may be safe...

"Tails."

The voice breaks the near-silence, but recieves nothing but the gentle clack of an old keyboard in response.

"You can't work on an empty stomach."

The final third of Team Sonic, the echidna known as Knuckles, stands in the doorway of Tails's 'lab' (which, in truth, is just his room, so full of junk it's impossible to sleep or rest comfortably).

"You gotta eat, bud. Just-"

Before Knuckles can think of another excuse, however, Tails yips excitedly.

"Wait, I think I got it-!"

The sudden excitement nearly breaks the tension, but just as soon as the feeling arrives, they lose grip of it.

Connection lost.

"...Never mind..."

In those few moments, Tail's eyes had regained some of their lost spark, shining in the din.

Knuckles can't help but feel that, with it gone, the entire room feels far darker.

"C'mon, Tails," Knuckles says, his voice soft, "Sonic's only been gone for a day. He's probably getting his energy back up so he can do some crazy stunt and escape the Death Egg."

"...I hope you're right," they sigh, "But I'm worried. The Death Egg just... disappeared after entering orbit. And Eggman's been so quiet about the whole thing..."

"It's probably hiding behind the moon, or something," he reasons, "...I'm serious about the food, Tails."

Their ears flatten on their head, and their stomach growls, betraying their hunger.

"Fine," they huff, "But I'm eating in here."

"Fine by me," Knuckles huffs in response, leaning against the doorway so that Tails can get out.

The walk to the cafeteria is short, but Tails practically shuffles the entire way there, extending the time it takes to get there massively.

They don't want to leave their post. In all honesty, they shouldn't if they want to find their brother any time soon.

Considering Knuckles's... close relationship with their brother, they can't believe he's not more concerned.

But here he is, insisting Tails take a break after only two days of searching...

Knuckles wants them to take it easy? To go slow?

Them, the second-fastest Mobian probably ever?

Oh, sure, they'll be slow.

It's this tiny protest, this rebellion in the Resistance, that keeps them from turning tail and locking themself in their room, refusing to come out for anyone.

Even their percieved punishment is exclusively on their own terms.

In their bottle of rage, they hardly notice that the two of them have arrived at the food court, only being made aware due to Knuckles giving them a little push with his elbow.

They grumble for a sec, but he gestures ahead, and they reluctantly follow his gaze...

And feel their mouth drop open a little as they do.

Potato pancakes, hashbrowns, french fries,

Scrambled eggs, hard-boiled, devilled, fried...

Several different kinds of milkshakes and smoothies,

And huge pots of soups and stew in a dozen varieties.

Thanks to the close ties with the many heavily-protected farms on the surface, food was never a problem for the Resistance. Which was great, given that it was growing massively every day.

But even so, this is ridiculous...

Yet with that ridiculousness comes a sense of deep comfort. They can still afford to be a little frivolous sometimes, spending too much energy on things that matter or putting tons of ingredients into meals that take hours to cook... and taste absolutely delicious.

Before either of the two can begin filling their plates and making use of the food they have while it's available to them, however, Knuckles spots someone.

A somewhat scrawny red wolf with almost cartoonishly thick glasses, busy attempting to put at least five servings of every food on their plate.

With an encouraging smile, Knuckles waves at them, gesturing for Tails to follow.

"Hey, rookie!" he booms, and it's only to their credit that they don't drop the plate they're carrying with how loud Knuckles is, "Got someone I want you to meet!"

Surprised that, out of everyone, it's Knuckles who's forcing them into an awkward social interaction, Tails can barely even get out a "nice to meet you-!" in the (relatively mild) confusion.

"I'm Tails, what's your name?" he offers, giving a slightly crooked smile.

"...Gadget." The wolf says, voice not betraying even the slightest hint of emotion, "Charmed."

"Likewise!" Tails widens his smile, continuing their attempt at being polite...unaware of the fact they're starting to look a little creepy.

"So, you're a Wispon user, like the rest of Knuckles's squad, right?"

"Yes. Currently maintaining bonds with three Wisps. Red, blue, and purple," Gadget explains, "No names given. Close companions nonetheless."

"Amazing...!" They whisper, quickly putting themself back in Small-Talk Mode, "So, uh... What're you getting to eat? There's a lot of choices, I don't think I can decide..."

Though he says this, it's obvious what they're eating - practically everything. Noticing this fact is obvious, the rookie tries to hide some of their stacked plate with their huge bowl, but fails miserably.

"Not very much. Eating light. Heading out soon," They nod gravely, looking to Knuckles - and raising their brow when he laughs.

"I told you, rookie, we're not moving out until later this afternoon," he clarifies, looking a bit awkward as Tails gives him a Look, "We switched out with Silver's gang. You can eat as much as you need."

"Oh," Gadget hums, "...Good."

With the indirect encouragement, they shove even more food onto their plate, and pocket a plastic-wrapped protein bar for later.

"Glad to see you're eating well, soldier!" Tails smiles, "Uh... Keep up the good work!"

Gadget gives them an amused smile - the most emotion they've shown to anyone since they've arrived, considering Knuckles's awe-struck face - and leaves to go eat with the rest of their squad.

Thankfully, despite how awkward the whole thing was, Tails's spirits seem to have been lifted by the interaction, too. As they pile food onto their own plate, Knuckles spots their somewhat crooked smile's morphed into a genuinely cheerful one,

Thank goodness...

Truth be told, Knuckles hasn't actually grown a newfound appreciation for social interactions lately.

But he knows both the kit and the wolf need more social interaction than they've been getting, and he was hoping they'd hit it off.

And they did. In their own way.

So... score.

[catboyklug]

Characters: Sonic [ he / it ] ; Tails [ they / them ] ; Dr. Eggman [ he / him ] ; Infinite the Jackal [ ??? ]

Warnings: Vaguely described blood/injury ; Sonic Loses Lol

Notes: dividers by @rookthornesartistry !! ; this is the first in a series i'm making where i just. rewrite forces from the ground up. very excited about it

Word Count: 1.9k

As always, Sonic did what he did best - race through the track he was given.

Eggman had been leading frequent attacks against the more urban areas dotting the planet Earth, and now he had finally decided to reveal his master plan - a plan for war.

Apparently, he had built a new Death Egg, and was launching it near one of the most densely-populated cities on the planet. Though nobody was sure about the finer details of this new model, one thing was for certain...

Things were about to get messy.

So Sonic ran, past every second-rate badnik and "deadly" lazer, closer to the Death Egg Mark...

"Hey, Tails," Sonic called through his communicator - a handy-dandy wristwatch that Tails was still thinking of a more sci-fi name for, "Which version of the Death Egg are we on, now?"

"I think we should be on--well, technically we're on Mark III..." Tails's voice crackled due to nearby interference - weird, but not unheard of.

"Technically?" Sonic hummed.

"There was that first one you destroyed with Knuckles, then the second that we raced on," he started explaining, "Then the one we all fought to blow up, the... one with Emerl... and then the one he sent at us on the anniversary of you and Amy meeting!"

"But, two of those were considered the Death Egg Mk.II, and the other three just the Death Egg, so I have no idea what Eggman thinks of this one."

"Looks like Eggman's as good at naming things as he is planning ahead," Sonic remarked, audibly grinning.

Even though it was absolutely nothing as quick quips go, Tails bursted out laughing, which prompted a smile from their brother.

"I'll talk to you later, little bro, think I'm almost there," Sonic says, "You keep up the good work over there!"

"Oh, thanks, Sonic-" Tails flushes, "I mean! Good luck to you, too, big bro!"

With an encouraging smile, Sonic ends the call, picking up the pace as he nears the Death Egg launch site.

Now at the city's edge, Sonic noticed the sheer amount of Badniks in the area, and how weirdly placid they were.

Sure, they took a swipe at him if he got too close, but otherwise none of them even bothered turning his way.

Not to mention, they're at the edge of the city. Eggman's only been attacking the most populated areas for a while...

Just as he tries to figure out a reason for these oddities, though, he notices a massive blockade in front of him.

With his depth perception, he can't tell how big they are, but he figures he can just jump over them if there's a ramp nearby.

He notices, almost too late, that there isn't.

Skidding to a halt right before he crashes into them, he prepares to run the opposite direction to look for a building to run up instead, but...

He's surrounded.

It was a trap.

He tries to spindash underneath them, but their legs are too tight together. He can't burrow, since the ground under him is concrete...

Even bashing them seems to be out of the question - they're harder than bricks, and he can't even make the slightest of dents or scratches on them.

At least they aren't trying to attack him back...?

If he had more room, he could build up some speed and make shrapnel of this new plating. But this weird arena's barely big enough for him to jog in, and every time he starts gaining speed he ends up just smacking against one of the drones.

Just as he tries formulating a plan, he hears a familiar, annoying laugh behind him.

He turns, crossing his arms and tapping his foot at the new arrival.

"Sonic, you're just in time to meet my newest pet project," Eggman grins, "Meet Infinite Mechanism - the greatest weapon I've had the pleasure of working with."

This "Infinite" is tall, towering above Eggman. Long and lanky, and Sonic thinks he can see bones through the thin fur and skin.

Or... maybe not bones. They look sharp. He notices a metallic sheen coming from a particularly papery part of skin.

Creepy...

Oh well.

"Infinite Mechanism, huh?" Sonic grins, keeping his confidence close and arrogance closer, "Guess it's better than Monkey Dude..."

Despite how weak the 'insult' was, his enemy seems to immediately deflate upon hearing it. For a moment, his stance changes, and his height makes him look less terrifying and more like a stretched-out piece of plastic about to collapse in on itself.

"Come on, Infinite! You're one of my greatest creations yet!" the doctor roars, apparently offended, "Defeat this blue brat! Put him in his place as punishment for insulting you!"

And there he goes, right back up to pompousness.

No big deal! Sonic's faced off with tons of uppity jerks before, and each time it's been their self-assured swinehood that was their biggest weakness.

There's no doubt that this Infinite guy was briefed for hours about each of Sonic's offensive moves, so he decides to make fun of 'em by keeping it simple.

A light kick there, a weak punch here... He doesn't even spindash, keeping his moves entirely to running around and occassionally taking potshots at his new rival.

When Infinite gets more aggressive, Sonic responds by zipping around the arena as well as he can - not a tactic that could help him get out, sadly, but more than good enough to tease.

He dodges a punch by speed-walking to the other side of the arena and avoids a spinning kick by just... leaning out of the way.

Absolutely enraged at this point, Infinite picks up the speed, trying to reach Sonic, and Sonic takes the opportunity to bait him, tripping him up in mid-air and sending him crashing into one of the badniks making up the arena.

"You're supposed to be Eggman's greatest weapon? Seriously?" he huffs, "This fight's so boring it's making me miss Metal."

"INFINITE!"

Both the combatants turn to Eggman, one absolutely less amused than the other.

"IGNORE THE RAT, FOCUS ON ME!"

"You're more powerful than he could ever dream of being!" the doctor barks, "You have him in the palm of your hand, now - CRUSH HIM!!"

"Talk about ignoring the truth, huh!" Sonic chuckles, crossing his arms.

Before he can finish the quip, though, Infinite barrels him over, grabbing his arms and forcing him to the ground.

He draws a massive, red sword from his belt, raising it above Sonic's neck -

"WHOA!"

Panicking, Sonic kicks him in the stomach and runs to the other side of the arena - wait, is it getting smaller?

No time for that - to take this bigshot down, Sonic needs an opening...

"So you've got a fancy weapon, big deal!" Sonic yells, "I don't need weapons to take anyone down, especially not a loser like you!"

It seems Eggman's 'speech' really got through to him, and Infinite is now completely ignoring Sonic. Drat.

"Keep going, Infinite!" Eggman cheers, "Put that rat in his place!"

With each word Eggman says, Infinite seems to only grow stronger. He fights quicker, harder, and smarter - still no match for Sonic, but... he's getting there.

To prove this point, he makes a sniper rifle appear out of thin air, and aims it at Sonic, pulling the trigger the second its sight meets his head.

Only having dodged because he was dashing when Infinite fired, Sonic's definitely getting a little shaken up now.

For his own sake, and to not power Infinite up even further, he keeps a cool head - and sticks his tongue out when Infinite turns to see if their shot hit.

Outraged, they throw away the now useless rifle and supplant a sword for it.

Infinite can't hear him, but he sure can see him...

Sonic looks, extremely disappointedly, at the sword. Shaking his head to truly convey how upset he feels at Infinite trying to use the same trick twice in one battle. He knows Infinite can do better!

This tomfoolery, albeit nonverbal, seems to get Infinite back to that deflated state. In fact, he seems positively depressed as he halfheartedly swings at Sonic, rendering the sword practically useless.

Well, it would be useless, if it wasn't still incredibly sharp!

Too worried about what'd happen if he tried jumping over a sword in such a tiny arena, Sonic gets backed into a corner, and the realization of this seems to reinvigorate his enemy.

He raises the sword, not too dissimilar from earlier,

Swings it down,

And Sonic kicks it away.

High on adrenaline, he rushes behind Infinite, kicking him down.

"One..." he breathes, "Two... three..."

"Four, five...!"

But before he can call it a knock-out, Infinite shakily pushes himself off the ground.

For a moment, he simply stands facing away from Sonic, and the air stills.

He starts shaking, but with his mouth hidden in a mask, Sonic can't tell if he's laughing or crying.

Thankfully, the awkwardness of the moment is shattered when Infinite swings a new weapon his way - a ridiculously oversized flail, with huge spikes to match.

Starting to get bored of how often he has to quickly dodge out of the way instead of just pummeling the dude, Sonic sighs as he runs away again, keeping his distance.

Deciding not to try his luck against something twice as big and three times as pointy as he is, Sonic uses his new 'running away' position to see if there are any other weaknesses he could make use of. Then notices-

Every time Infinite attempts to draw a new weapon, he has to take several seconds to fish something out of a satchel on his belt.

Great! Now if Sonic could just catch him unawares when he-

Throws the flail, and grabs several daggers.

Sonic might be tired of dodging, but he's absolutely not tired of speed. Or showing off.

A dropdash into a kick off the ground into a frontflip and he sticks the landing!

He gives a joking bow to several of the eggpawns surrounding the arena, making sure to sprint to each one individually and in random order, throwing off Infinite's aim.

Or maybe not.

He realizes, a little too late, the flow of wind as another dagger is thrown at him - and it hits his waving arm.

Shocked by the pain, and the blood, Sonic staggers.

That's... bad.

He grips his arm, trying to slow the flow of blood, but it's hopeless - the blade hit at an odd angle, and the wound is too wide.

It hurts too much to do anything but grip it, however, and the sight of the blood pooling at his feet makes him feel dizzy.

While he's preoccupied with his injury, Eggman lets his egg carrier float into the arena, taking in the sight with glee.

"Each picture is worth a thousand words," he grins, "But I believe this scene only requires three..."

"Good boy, Infinite."

With the praise, Infinite practically glows.

He advances on Sonic, a dark gleam coming from his mask.

Gently, he puts his hands on the sides of Sonic's arms,

Sonic hears a sickening crunch,

And everything goes black.

"Sonic! You there?"

"I managed to drive off all the badniks! Something really strange happened, though... seems like they all turned heel and ran off."

"I guess Robotnik must have called them back..."

"Wait, that means they're headed for the Death Egg!"

"If I'm right, do you need any help over there? None of my 'drones are any worse for wear, so we're all here if you need us!"

"I bet you could handle anything Eggman threw at you, though, big bro!"

"..."

"...Sonic?"

[catboyklug]

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐨. 𝟏

𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘨 @𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸.

CHOCOLATE COSMOS

ROSEWOOD

PENN RED

ENGINEERING ORANGE

SINOPIA

PERSIMMON

PRINCETON ORANGE

WEB ORANGE

GRADIENT

[catboyklug]

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐍𝐨. 𝟏

for @aeriscallanga

please like, reblog, and tag @rookthornesartistry if you use the dividers below.

BLACK

NIGHT

EERIE BLACK

ONYX

OUTER SPACE

DAVY'S GREY

GREY

ASH GREY

GRADIENT