#but how Sonic would take the Vi approach and believe ''what makes you different makes you strong''

[sage-nebula]

Tails was bullied on West Side Island because he was born with two tails. That's his canon backstory. He was born different, and that difference led to him being ostracized and shunned. It's not a stretch to think that his prodigy level intelligence wouldn't have done him any favors either, because kids are mean and being a nerd isn't exactly seen as cool by most. Even adults probably would have thought he was weird for wanting to tinker with stuff, would probably think he was more liable to break it or set the building on fire or something, and so probably didn't give him too much of a chance to prove his mettle when it comes to engineering. That part is speculative though; I think all we know for sure is that the people of Tails' hometown saw his second tail and thought, "Freak."

Sonic didn't feel that way, but then again, look at Sonic. Him being blue isn't a big deal, because animals come in all sorts of colors in this world, but he can run at supersonic speeds. He can break the sound barrier, easy. That's something no one else can do, hedgehog or otherwise. And as far as we know, Sonic's been able to do this since he was born. He was born different, too.

And you might think, okay, but Sonic's speed isn't visible just by looking at him, and also it's like a superpower, so how is that comparable? And I say, Tails' extra tail lets him fly. No other fox on the planet can do that without assistance. They need planes, or jetpacks, or whatever, but Tails doesn't. Tails can fly all on his own. Doesn't that count as a superpower in its own right?

Tails' village looked at him, and they said, he's different, he's a freak. Sonic looked at him and said, hey, I'm different, too. Guess that makes us two of a kind, huh?

And that made all the difference.

[ashadowcalledkei]

Now that I’ve had some time to get things done, here’s the next chapter of TLtN!  See, not a long wait at all.  It’s also the return of chapter art.  Admittedly I just decided to draw this one super fast because I could, but there will be nicer, proper art on the next one.

To Last the Night

Sequel to Whispers in the Dark

Pairings: None Characters: Grillby, Dogaressa, Dogamy, Sans and Papyrus (background),  W̵̧͟͠.̸̡̀͝ ̴͝D̷͘͜.̷́̀̕ ̴̷̨͜G̸҉a̢͜ś҉̴͘t҉͘e̛͏ŕ̶̷͡ ̵̶̸͘͜

Warnings:  extreme bodyhorror, temporary character death (ish), implied torture of underage characters, general dark themes, zalgo text (I tried to keep it minimal)

Notes: Baby Blasters AU belongs to the wonderful @spacegate​​, I just love writing awful angst for it.

Read on AO3 here (chapters go up on tumblr first)

Chapter 12

The trio raced through the ruined lab and up the steps.  Even after the slick, black trail dried up, the scent of rotting magic guided them through the house and out the broken front door.  The caverns of Hotland were dim as always, lit only by the glow of red hot magma flowing below.  Grillby was afraid that the dark shape of the doctor might blend in too well for them to make him out, but Dogaressa and Dogamy held no such fears.  Their sharp senses guided them.  They would not allow their prey to escape.  

They sprinted through the cave, away from the red glow of lava and deeper into the twisting darkness of the subterranean kingdom.  The unnatural creature the doctor had become was fast, faster than them to be sure, but without his portals he couldn't outrun them forever.  Not when the dogs had his scent.  Before long the stone ceiling above them began to change its slope, the craggy walls edging closer together, and Grillby knew that their quarry had made a fatal error.  

He caught sight of a blur of movement up ahead, a shadow darting through the darkness.  The dogs ran faster, panting as they pushed themselves to go ever faster.  Grillby couldn't quite keep up, but it didn't matter much.  The passage they were in was becoming tight.  Sounds echoed, bouncing off the unforgiving walls of a sealed exit.  They had the man cornered now.  

With Grillby hanging back to guard the exit, arms extended and hands ablaze, Dogaressa and Dogamy advanced on their cornered target.  He was hunched awkwardly, pressed back against the uneven stones of the cave's far wall.  There was no way out, not even for him, unless he was willing to release his prize.  The dogs stalked forward as one, each holding their weapons out in a show of force that anyone would be foolish not to take seriously.  

“I don't know what you did to those kids,” Dogamy snarled, “but you're gonna pay for it.”

Dogaressa bared her teeth at the man.  “Give back what you stole, and I might be willing to make this quick.”

“M͍̞ ̖͔̥̻̹i͍̣͕ ̟n͎ ̸̞e͉̹̟̫͝.͉̙͎ ”

The entire cavern seemed to freeze in a stunned silence broken only by the distorted hiss of static that lingered around the thing that was once a monster.  

“Did he just … talk?” Dogamy questioned, his gaze darting between Dogaressa, Grillby, and the doctor as if he couldn't believe what his sensitive ears had just heard.  

“T͝ ͟h ͏e y   ͏á ҉r̷ ͞e̶ ̡ m ̛i̷ ̸n҉ ͜e͘ ,” the man said, the words drawn out and mangled but no less present.  And the more he spoke, the more clear the sounds became.  He slowly straightened his long form, rising up to tower over Grillby and the dogs.  His torso was stretched thin and gaunt, morphing into one long band of pure darkness.  The edges of his mouth quirked upwards in manic glee as he forced the otherworldly sounds that came from it to form something intelligible.  “M ́i ̴n͜ e.̕ T ̛a ̴k ̢en f r̶o͝ ̶m ͡ m̡e. ͟ ͜Ss̕s̶sò I ͏ t̛ ҉oo k̸ t̷h͟ em ͞ ͏b a ̴ck͏.͘ ”

“You killed them!” Dogaressa screamed, her own voice cracking under the strain.

“T͏h̸ ȩ y ̕w̸ e̡re̕ … p ͟a͞ ͏s̛s̶t̀  ss ҉a ͏ve ing. ̷ ̴Ţa̧ i ͘nt ed͡. ”

“Like you are?” the guardswoman asked, the subtle growl of her question sharper than any curse.

The man laughed, bubbling and terrible.  “I͟ ͝ ͘a͞m ҉ ̛ss̨s͟ t͟r҉o n̢ǵ ́e͠r.̨ ̨ ͜Į ͝ śss͜s̡ ur͝ ͏vi ve̢. Th ey ̶ w ̢ou̧l͡ ̨d͏   fa ̵ll̛. ”

“They haven't fallen yet.”  Grillby said, the memory of two small, butchered souls driving him towards a new sense of defiance that felt strange and welcome to him.  “You did your best to dust them but it didn't work.”

The man tilted his head slowly, his too wide mouth twisting into an ugly frown.  The fragments he clutched shuddered, pushing against his all too yielding hand.  “Th͏ ey ̡ ̷a̧ re͢  ͝l̸ ͡o ͜c͢k e̵d͞. ̵S̷ss͟ta ͝śss͢i͠ s̸ss͢ss. ͝ I͠t w ͞iļl n o͜t ͜ la ss̷s̴t.̢ ”  Again he smiled, what passed for his shoulders shaking as he let out a hissing laugh.  “Y͝o̧u ̧c ̴an̡ ̕ķee p̛ ẁh at ͞is̶s ̡ĺe ̸f̕t.  Th̨ ̡ey҉   a̛ ̛rȩ ̀u̵ss ̵l͟e͢ssss ̷ ͏to̕ m͞ ́e ̕ n͠o̵w͜. ”

In a sudden blur of motion that took them all by surprise, Dogaressa threw herself towards the man.  She roared like a wild animal and swung her battleaxe, its blade shining orange in the dancing glow of Grillby's firelight.  The metal cut deep, burying itself halfway into the column of the man's torso before finally coming to a stop.  The doctor gasped, cracked, empty eye sockets widening in surprise.  He looked down at the weapon protruding from his body as if unable to fully comprehend its presence there.  Then, with a vicious snarl, Dogaressa yanked the axe blade free.  Inky gore splattered from the open wound, spraying everything around them, but it did not phase the guardswoman.  She swung again, driving the weapon back into the same spot with practiced precision.  His body nearly chopped in half, the doctor howled as he topped backwards.  The sound he made was a mangled, piercing shriek that made both dogs and even Grillby wince in pain to hear.  Yet Dogaressa did not retreat.  She hefted her massive weapon and brought it down once more.  The blade tore through the man's arm, severing it with a single blow.  

The disembodied hand writhed like a dying insect, spasming and oozing as it lost any semblance of functional form.  And as it did, it lost its grip on the two crystal fragments.  The shards floated upwards, idly spinning around one another.  Dogamy ran forward, snatching up the pair.  When the doctor reached for them, his other arm stretching out towards them as he cried out with a static-ruined moan, the guardsman swung his own battleaxe in a one handed chop that severed the remaining semi-solid limb at the wrist.  He backed away quickly, his weapon held in front of him like a shield, as Dogaressa stood her ground.  

The wreck of a monster struggled to push himself up with what remained of one arm.  Inky sludge dripped from the ragged wound in his torso, each droplet leaving a long tail of shining black behind it.  The more drops that fell, the more strands of blackness connected the two halves of his severed body.  Faster and faster they fell, knitting the wound together, until the man was once more able to slide himself upwards.  Long, oozing tendrils snaked from where his shoulders should be, rushing down to the cavern floor where they slithered towards the pale shapes of his hands.  His cracked eye sockets were half melted, but still they stared at the trio with a wide, unhinged madness.  

“M͘͜ ̶i ̨͘͜ǹ ͝e̵̶ ,” he hissed, more distorted than before.  “T ̷h͘ ̡ơ s e ͜ a̕ r̨ e̴ ̡ ̡m ̷i҉ ͞n ͜e͟!͢ ̶Ǵ i҉ v ̷e ͜t ͢h ̸e҉ ͠m͠ ̶̀̋ B̆ ̑ͨͨ̊ͩA͑͜ ̴͒̏C̷ͧ ͗̉͒͢Kͬͪͨ̚͝!̒ ”

A piercing blast of static made the trio stagger backwards, hands pressed tight over their ears.  Shaking her head to try and banish the ringing left behind by the sudden sonic onslaught, Dogaressa growled and readied herself for another attack.  The man reached for her, but she dodged, ducking underneath an unnaturally long arm and bringing her axe around to strike at where his legs should have been.  Though each hit she managed to land was strong, cleaving easily through the dark muck, the wounds never lasted for long.  And what's worse, now that he was aware of her intentions, her opponent was smart enough not to underestimate her.  The doctor moved with frightening speed and unnatural fluidity.  Though he had no weapon and employed no traditional magic, at least none that could be seen, his distorted scream and grasping, lengthened fingers were an undeniable threat.   Grillby had been so transfixed by the display that he didn't notice Dogamy approaching until the other canine suddenly blocked his view.  

“I have to help her,” the guardsman said, the look in his eyes betraying the fear he did not want to show.  

Grillby nodded and held out his hands for the fragments.  They drifted into his palms with no resistance and hovered there, dancing just above his fiery skin, their magic shining with a gentle, blue glow.  Up close he could see how the light shifted, getting brighter and dimmer in a steady pulsing rhythm.  He carefully closed his hands over the pair trapping them between his palms.  They did not struggle against him.  Their power hummed in his grasp, warm and alive.  He knew what he had to do.

“Be safe,” Grillby said, waiting only long enough to see his friend return to the battle before he was up and running.  Behind him, static roared over the sounds of angry barking and the resonating clang of metal on stone, but he did not turn back to see it.  All his focus was on the winding pathway before him and the shining gems of magic he cradled in his palms.  

There were many places he could have gone.  He could break into one of the other houses.  Perhaps hide in a different cavern.  He could even board the Riverperson's boat and go anywhere from Snowdin to Asgore's throne room.  But instead he found himself headed right for the ruined lab they'd only just left.  He didn't know what he was doing, not really.  It was only a hunch, or perhaps wishful thinking, but he knew he had to try.  These weren't just fragments of the boys' magic, they were pieces of their souls.  He was sure of it now.  Even if this desperate act proved to be futile, he had to return these stolen pieces of the children he'd failed to protect.  

Grillby dragged the metal tables closer together.  He quickly untied the straps that had held the boys down, burning through the ones that would not release so easily.  For a moment he was frozen in place, staring down at the pair.  They were too quiet.  Too still.  Too fragile.  He held his free hand out over them and channeled his magic, summoning their souls.  Just like when they'd first found the pair, at first there was no answer.  His call to battle went unheeded, as if the vessels before him were truly empty.  But then there was a faint spark of something intangible and a feeble pulse of magic began to shine from within them.  Grillby looked away as the mangled souls faded into view.  The sight was just as ghastly as it had been before.  In fact, it was exactly as it had been.  The souls he saw now were unchanged, neither healing nor deteriorating from their disfigured state.  It defied everything he knew about the nature of souls and magic, but he had no time to question it now.  

With some coaxing, Grillby managed to separate the two crystalline shards.  They would not be moved too far apart, but so long as he kept his hands close enough together they were at least willing to cease their hypnotic spin.  He carefully closed his hands over them and reached out with his own soul, trying to summon something from within them the same way he'd summoned what was left of the souls he was so certain they'd been stole from.  Blue magic answered him in tiny pulses.  Dark and light.  Honest and patient.  He blinked away the ashy tears that gathered in his eyes.  

Slowly, he opened his hands and guided the two crystals towards the souls that shared their magic.  They followed his movements, drifting down willingly until they had each settled in the open hollows of the two souls.  The shards fit perfectly.  Grillby waited, his flames burning low and quiet, for some kind of sign.  But there was no flash of light or grand pulse of power.  He scooped Papyrus's soul into his hands, not daring pull it any further away from him, and carefully pressed the ragged edges together.  The little soul was cold and still.  Desperate, Grillby sent some of his own magic into it.  A familiar warmth to drive the cold away.  

“Please,” he whispered as he cupped the fragile soul in his hands, “please.”  

The soul's light, dim and dull, slowly began to brighten.  Deep blues and hints of orange, so very like his own yet somehow different, flashed beneath a blanket of white as ragged edges of conjured flesh began to merge.  Grillby held on, watching in astonished relief as the soul slowly reformed itself.  And then, at last, he felt a pulse of magic beneath his fingers.  First one, then another and another until it settled itself into a rhythm that could almost be called normal.  

Grillby was reluctant to let go, still hovering close even after he'd released the child's restored soul until he was sure that fragile pulse wasn't about to stop.  But once he was as certain as he could be, he quickly turned his attention to Sans.  Repeating the process, he held the other child's soul together and carefully poured his own energy into it until it too began to glow and pulse.  This time the rhythm faltered, skipping and shuddering in a way that frightened him, but each time it failed, it started up again on its own.  The elemental couldn't explain it, but in that moment he was just grateful that there was any sign of life in that soul at all.  They had been so broken, ripped to pieces and robbed of some precious piece of themselves.  But now they were whole.  Shining.  Alive.  

As he stared in amazement at the pale glow of Sans's newly restored soul, he noticed something odd.  The dark magic that had poisoned him and his brother was still wrapped tight around it, causing the surface to warp discolor, but there were white streaks where that stain had been cleared away.  Streaks that looked an awful lot like fingers.  Grillby reached down again, placing his hands around Sans's soul, and found that the marks were a match.  In the places he'd touched with his fire magic, the poison had been burned away.  And it wasn't just Sans, Papyrus's soul had similar clear patches on it as well.  All this time he'd been trying to find some way to help them, some cure for the unknown magic poisoning them, and it had been with him all along.  

Grillby released his summoning hold on the pair, letting their souls sink into their unconscious bodies.  Then he settled a hand on each of them, palms resting lightly against their chests.  Almost anything could burn, and bone was no exception, but it took a lot more to char bone than it did to burn most other things.  The heat he'd channeled into their souls hadn't been nearly enough to cause that kind of damage.  He could do this, theoretically at least.  He just had to be careful about it.

The elemental's own soul glowed brightly, lighting up his core with all the bright tones of flame.  It called to two souls mirrored in blue, not with a summons but with a plea.  And they responded.  The notes were faint, their song buried beneath a smothering blanket of shadow, but no less present.  Time and care had formed a connection between them, and it was through that bond that Grillby sent not only the heat of his fire magic but also its light.  

He sent his power into them.  His strength.  His love.  It surged a brilliant white, shining from inside their bones.  A dark smoke rose from the pair as the tainted magic inside them began to burn, permeating the space with an acrid stench.  Their small bodies grew warm beneath his touch.  Then the warmth shifted into heat and he had to pull back some of his power.  Too much and they would burn.  Not enough and the corruption would keep its deadly hold on them.  Grillby focused on the brightness of his own magic,  the potential in it and in him to bring not just destruction but warmth and light as well.  He channeled that light, filling the children he'd thought he lost with a brilliant luminescence strong enough to push back the darkness.  

And white lights flickered to life in dark eye sockets.