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lix88888 · 9 months

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Eldritchtale: Error is a silly goose (who sometimes commits genocide)

.̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ was mad. This wasn't unusual, as he was often angry, but the object of his fury usually wasn't His Mate, the one Monster he cared for and who he would never harm.

It made him feel conflicted, and nervous: .̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ wanted His Mate to be with him forever, never leave his side, belong to him like they were meant to, but he had been so obsessed with that Multiverse thing of theirs he had gotten from that weird mortal.

.̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ didn't like that at all. His Mate was spending so much time with his Multiverse, and that was time they weren't spending with HIM! It was unacceptable!

His Mate was being uncharacteristically stubborn about this, even forbidding him from entering the stupid Multiverse unless he made himself a "body" like His Mate had. Bah! A "body", sounded like something useless and pathetic!

But His Mate had been gone for so long already! Millennia! The other Monsters mocked his clinginess, but he didn't care.

.̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ would do anything to be with His Mate.

Having decided to follow His Mate's rule, the Monster moved closer to all the mortals: ever since His Mate had created their Multiverse, a lot more mortals had appeared, just like the first one, the one who had enticed His Mate and made him leave: .̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ hated him most of all, but all those others, too, he considered abominations and parasites. Still, just like His Mate had taken inspiration and made his Multiverse, so .̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ would use those mortals as a guide to make his own new "body" (ugh).

He eventually found a mortal that seemed less awful than the others, and hastily modeled a body that would make him bypass His Mate's Barrier, before quickly jumping inside the Multiverse, where His Mate was.

It felt weird, and wrong, and unpleasant to have a body, to feel so constricted and limited (he didn't know how His Mate could stand it), and he was also a bit convinced he had made some mistake while building it (he dismissed the ridiculous thought as soon as it came up, the Monster was perfect, just like His Mate, and he didn't make mistakes).

"Hey buddy! Who are you?!" a voice shouted. The Monster would have found it annoying, if he hadn't recognized His Mate.

Even in this imperfect, insignificat form, he could always recognize His Mate, and always find him enticing. They were now looking at him with wonder and excitement, his pupils a yellow question mare and an orange exclamation point.

"You look so weird, friend! Wonder which AU you are from..." His Mate trailed off, coming closer and touching his face. It burned! The Monster flinched and moved away, snarling in pain.

"𝓓ᗝภ't tᗝ𝓾ᶜ𝓱 𝓂乇!(DON'T TOUCH ME!)"

He cared deeply for His Mate, but he was angry with him for hurting him. His Mate, however, simply smiled as his pupils turned into a star and a heart.

"Error! It's you!" "𝕎𝓱Ａt 𝓭𝐢𝓭 𝕪σ𝕌 נ𝕌şt 𝓬Ａ𝔩𝔩 爪Ｅ?!(What did you just call me?!)" His Mate simply snorted and came closer, making the Monster move away again. "Well, I can't just call you by your name, can I? These bodies cannot handle those sounds, this is the closest equivalent!"

.̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷́̔́̈́͝��ͅ resented this knowledge, but he had to admit that even thinking his and His Mate's name was causing him an headache (stupid mortal bodies) and so .̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ , or rather, Error, begrudingly accepted the moniker.

"I go by "Ink", by the way!" His Mate said, putting one hand on his hip as he pointed their thumb at his chest. He then frowned (no! why was His Mate frowing!) and crossed his arms.

"Look at your body, it's all glitched! You did such a rush job! Mortal minds can barely look at it without breaking! I bet touch hurts you, doesn't it?" "ภσ!(No!)" he said, like a liar. "ι 𝓭𝐢𝓭 𝐢t σŇ ｐ𝕌яｐσşＥ, şσ t𝓱Ａt ŇσŇＥ σⓕ 𝕪σ𝕌я Ａᵇσ爪𝐢ŇＡt𝐢σŇş 𝓬ＡŇ tσ𝕌𝓬𝓱 爪Ｅ!(I did it on purpose, so that none of your abominations can touch me!)

Ink then smirked (making Error sigh in relief at the sight of His Mate being happy) and came closer, careful to not touch Error. "Oh really? Not even me?"

Damnit, Error had not realized that. Having His Mate so close was making his new body experience all sorts of pleasant sensations he couldn't wait to explore, but the thought of not being able to touch His Mate while he was inside his Multiverse was torture!

Ink's smile softened as he saw the conflict on Error's face, raising a hand to his forehead, almost brushing it, but still oh so carefully not making contact.

"Want me to fix that? It'll only hurt for a moment, I promise."

Error nodded, the trust in His Mate full and unwavering.

True to his words, Ink's touch only hurt as their index and middle finger made contact with Error's forehead, a shock that ran through his body and then immediately stopped, leaving him able to enjoy His Mate's touch. The Monster leaned into Ink's hand, purring.

"All done, Ruru!" The nickname sent a pleasurable shiver down Error's new spine "Though I only fixed it for me, wouldn't want my "abominations" to touch you after all!" He then let out a laugh, a cute little snorting sound that Error decided was his new favourite thing.

Ink's fingers then moved away (making him growl involuntarily) and a glowing blue rectangle with writing on it appeared before them; Ink started examining the text in earnest, and Error couldn't help but feel angry. His Mate had stopped touching him for that stupid screen! What was so important that demanded His Mate's attention?!

"Error, where did you get the inspiration for your body from?" "𝕎𝓱𝕪 𝓭σ 𝕪σ𝕌 𝓬ＡяＥ?!(Why do you care?!)" Error snarled, clenching his fists in displeasure. Ink didn't even seem to notice, too busy looking at the stupid screen.

"Its code is very interesting! It says that it belongs to an AU that doesn't exists yet, that will form only thousands of years from now! It seems like all of the people who get thrown out of this Multiverse's linear time for whatever reason, end up where we live, always having existed there! Isn't it amazing?!"

"ภσ! 𝕎𝓱𝕪 𝓭σ 𝕪σ𝕌 𝓬ＡяＥＡᵇσ𝕌t Ａ𝔩𝔩 t𝓱Ａt şt𝕌ⓕⓕ?! ιt'ş ᵇσя𝐢ŇＧ, ＡŇ𝓭 şt𝕌ｐ𝐢𝓭!(No! Why do you care about all that stuff?! It's boring, and stupid!)" "Aww, Error, don't be like that! I'm sure you'd like it if-" "ภᗝ! ι 𝓱ａt乇 ιt! ι 𝓱ａt乇 ιt!(NO! I HATE IT! I HATE IT!)"

Error felt himself grow so angry that his mortal body almost couldn't contain him: his form started seizing and decomposing, a flurry of glitches running all over his body in an effort for his true essence to break free and destroy everything, but Ink's Barrier, so carefully crafted, stopped him from doing so.

Eventually, he crashed.

He was frozen, and paralized, and blind, but he could still hear Ink sigh and carry his unconscious body somewhere else, all the while chiding him for his tantrum. It hadn't been a tantrum! And he wouldn't have needed one if Ink had just listened to him and paid attention to him instead of some stupid code that didn't even MATTER!

He came to after a short while, laid down on something soft, a bean bag. Ink was seated cross-legged in front of him, on a nest of pillows.

"All good Ruru?" Error snarled in embarrassment and didn't respond, averting his eyes. To be caught so vulnerable in front of His Mate was a source of great shame for him.

And yet, His Mate simply smiled softly (his pupils two pink hearts) and put their hand on his forearm, caressing him with tenderness. Error leaned into the touch, once again counting himself so lucky that someone so amazing as Ink had chosen him.

"What was that all about?"

And there went the sweet moment. Error grew angry again at the thought of the neglect His Mate was subjecting him to.

"You got very worked up, why-" "ι נ𝕌şt 𝓭σŇ't 𝔩𝐢𝕂Ｅ 𝕪σ𝕌я şt𝕌ｐ𝐢𝓭 𝓂𝕌𝔩t𝐢ѶＥяşＥ, 𝐢ş t𝓱Ａt Ａｐяσᵇ𝔩Ｅ爪?!(I just don't like your stupid Multiverse, is that a problem?!)" Ink looked sad, but Error ignored the small voice at the back of his mind that despaired at the fact, instead focusing on his anger at His Mate.

"Of course it isn't, you don't have to stay if-" "ａяＥ 𝕪σ𝕌 şσ ＥＡＧＥя tσ ＧＥt я𝐢𝓭 σⓕ 爪Ｅ, t𝓱ＥŇ?!(Are you so eager to get rid of me, then?!)"

At this point, Ink's pupils changed to a green spiral and a blue exclamation point. "Error, are you jealous?" "𝓂Ｅ, נＥＡ𝔩σ𝕌ş?! ᗝⓕ 𝓬σ𝕌яşＥ Ňσt! ιⓕ 𝕪σ𝕌 ⓌＡŇt tσ ＡᵇＡŇ𝓭σŇ 爪Ｅ tσ tＥŇ𝓭 tσ 𝕪σ𝕌я Ａᵇσ爪𝐢ŇＡt𝐢σŇş, ᵇＥ爪𝕪 Ｇ𝕌Ｅşt!(Me, jealous?! Of course not! If you want to abandon me to tend to your abominations, be my guest!)"

Ink's expression became frustrated, his pupils a red cross and a grey square. "I'm not abandoning you, that's ridiculous." "ᶜσ𝕌𝔩𝓭 𝓱ＡѶＥ ⓕσσ𝔩Ｅ𝓭 爪Ｅ…(Could have fooled me...)" "Errooooor!" Ink sighed, rolling his eyes and leaning back "I was gone only for a few millennia!" "t𝓱Ａt'ş Ａ ⓕＥⓌ 爪𝐢𝔩𝔩ＥŇŇ𝐢Ａ tσσ 爪ＡŇ𝕪!(That's a few millennia too many!)" "Are you gonna make such a fuss every time I go back here?"

WHAT?!

"𝕎𝓱ａt 𝓓ᗝ үᗝ𝓾 𝓂乇ａภ 𝑔ᗝιภ𝑔 ᗷａᶜķ?!(WHAT DO YOU MEAN GOING BACK?!)" he shouted, standing up. Ink looked at him in disbelief.

"I put a lot of work into this" he said, tone slow and condescending, looking up at him "I'm just gonna see it through. I'll keep coming back here till the Multiverse reaches its natural end." "t𝓱ａt'ร tᗝᗝ ℓᗝภ𝑔!(THAT'S TOO LONG!)" "Error-" "ι 𝕎ᗝภ't รtａภ𝓓 千ᗝ尺 ιt! ι 𝕎ᗝภ't ℓ乇t үᗝ𝓾!(I WON'T STAND FOR IT! I WON'T LET YOU!)"

Ink rose as well, putting his hands on their hips as his pupils became a red crosshair and a grey cloud with a lighting bolt coming out of it. "You "won't let me"? Please, elaborate."

Error knew he had fucked up, but his mouth ran faster than his thoughts.

"ι'ℓℓ 𝓓乇รt尺ᗝү үᗝ𝓾尺 รt𝓾ᵖι𝓓 𝓂𝓾ℓtι𝐯乇尺ร乇, t乇ａ尺 ιt ａᵖａ尺t!(I'LL DESTROY YOUR STUPID MULTIVERSE, TEAR IT APART!)"

And then His Mate would be back at his side, where they belonged.

"No."

Error froze. Outwardly, Ink still look as angry as before, but to a Monster was clear as day that now Ink was pissed, his True Form writhing and thrashing in a threatening display.

His Mate had always been powerful, even more than Error himself, but the other Monsters tended to forget it, as Ink never flaunted their prowess and strength.

Error was usually better at remembering it.

"This Multiverse is MINE, Error, do you understand? I worked very hard to make it, and if you actually destroy it all, I'm not gonna forgive you ever again."

And oh, how that threat was effective. Error could not image a punishment worst than His Mate forsaking him.

However, the mere idea that Ink might abandon him for such a disgusting abomination filled him with even more rage, so with a snarl Error teleported away and appeared in the middle of what appear to be papers floating without a care, but that Error can recognize as so much more.

In his rage, Error snatched one at random and ripped it in half, then again and again until the page is only confetti. The Monster was still not satisfied, so more pages follow the same fate.

This is next to nothing, this isn't destroying the Multiverse that Ink worked so hard to create, this is more akin to trying to destroy Mount Everest by removing a rock at a time, but it's still something against the hated creation that stole His Mate, and so Error kept doing it.

Eventually, Ink appeared to yell at him, to scold him and tell him to stop (his earlier rage is gone, replaced with irritation; Error may be doing next to nothing, but it's still ruining his delicate Creation).

Error didn't even slow down: if Ink really wanted to stop him, he could; as it is, Error destroyed even faster, wanting to keep Ink's attention on him.

Ink kept yelling, until they decided to instead ignore Error and start repairing the ripped pages. Seeing as Ink was once again favoring their worthless Multiverse over him, he jumped inside one of the pages, continuing his destruction there.

His mortal form wouldn't allow him to rip it apart as easily as with the pages, but Error is still the most powerful creature inside the Multiverse, second only to Ink, and so he began a chaotic annihilation of everything and everyone he laid his eyes on, with the ultimate goal of making the AU collapse in on itself.

Ink followed, but he, too, is limited by his mortal body and (to keep the illusion that he's part of the Multiverse and not its Creator) is forced to fight hand to hand with Error if they want to stop him.

The battle between Destruction and Creation starts.

Previous Next

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Just to clarify the deal with Error/Geno.

Canonically, Error is Geno, because Geno experimented with Determination or something else, and ends up into the Antivoid, where he then gets glitched, crazy and becomes the Destroyer we all know and love.

Here, in this AU, when Geno experiments, instead of being send to the Antivoid, he somehow ends up in the Place Where The Horror Dwells (aka the Void) but, due to the nature of the place, he kinda gets send back in time. As soon as Ink created the Multiverse, all of the people who would eventually end up in the Void materialize there instantly, due to the "getting scattered across space and time" deal, so Geno is there, even though the Sans that will become him isn't even born yet. Clear enough? Then Error simply chose his body as a template at random.

#undertale #ink sans #errorink #error sans #writing #fandom #utmv #undertale aus #eldritchtale #lix writes #my au #eldritch

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ink-au-askblog · 8 months

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fgod:as!ink (smudge): he looks away, reminded of something that happened to a certain friend of his. "i- i know they can get hurt... and i know that there's... it's always a possibility to lose them... but i wouldnt want to stop them from being free. i would feel bad if they left me willingly, but i'd feel worse if i just forced them to stay."

a sigh is let out from his small body, as his soul-eye shifts to a blue color. "i'm sorry, but i'll have to pass on your offer. e- even if i could do something like that, i wouldn't want to. i'm not scared enough of them leaving me to stop them from having a choice in the matter."

#ask the inks #ink sans #mod onion #utmv #undertale #undertale multiverse #undertale multiverse au #utmv au #calamity #eldritch horror man #their concept of freewill is vastly different #especially error and ink #these guys live in the void for literal eons #don't expect them to understand feeble things like 'personal will'#blue and orange morality #one of my favorite tropes

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emerald-onion · 11 months

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Idea Given Form: Destruction (Normal Form)

Sketch:

Finished:

My friend said she was busy, and then she went and produced this absolutely gorgeous masterpiece. Everyone, say thank you En.

"This is the first time I've drawn Error and his color scheme absolutely baffles me. His skull is black but his collarbone is red? His palm is a different color than his fingers? Is that a glove or is that just how his hands look?

If I get some colors wrong (which I definitely did) then please forgive me. I tried my best."

-Sincerely, En.

Trivia:

Error's arms are often hidden, and so is his eye. He only brings them out when he's absolutely relaxed. Or when he needs an extra advantage against Ink (who always forgets that Error has more than two arms).

The outfit is based on Error's canon one with a few tweaks of my own, to make him more 'God-like', as you can say.

The save point star is a matching gift from Ink.

Error • @loverofpiggies

(I can't believe I forgot the freaking credit why did no one tell me efvgeywgryweuhiuy?)

#undertale #utmv #utmv au #error sans #idea given form au #eldritch horror

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scribbletheartist · 2 years

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Day 5: Void

#Inktobertale #Inktobertale 2022 #inktobertale prompts #undertale #undertale au #undertale art #ink sans #ink!sans #inktale #Admittedly rushed a bit on this.#And yeah I know I keep choosing the same angle #but I have a new way of drawing the heads from that angle and it’s just so addicting!#Error: Who are you looking at? stop pulling faces and get out of my antivoid!#i made a lot of hearts with my hands while drawing this to try and figure out what on earth hands look like #the day I am adept at drawing hands is the day I will ascend to the status of unstoppable eldritch force #i doubt that day will ever come though lol

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madmarchhare · 5 months

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Report from the Ministry of Internal Affairs

October 20th, 13:00:00, 1983

Iveshnya had not appeared at the directorate for three days following Sunday, and neither had Dǎi, bar from a few fleeting hours on Monday morning before he silently left the Ministry building. On some level, Deriabin was relived, no longer having to fear the silent wild animal that loomed in the back office like a Siberian tiger. Yet, at the same time, he felt oddly uncomfortable without the presence of the man who so inspired his terror. There was an uncertainty that gripped him, even with his short time at the directorate, with the absence of the official who was so thoroughly in control of it and with the lack of a substitute.

Thankfully, though ironically instantly making Deriabin remember his fear, Iveshnya had returned in the afternoon of the third day. He had suddenly appeared in the doorframe of the room, dressed in a reserved sandy coloured suit, worn over a striped white-brown shirt hung at the neck by a narrow army-style tie. He had walked into the space directly over to Volkov and Slava, as if he had never been absent from the directorate for a moment and began to ask them a few things. As soon as they spotted their supervisor, the employees seemed to bend back into order, both from relief and wariness.

Deriabin glanced up at the man with frightful eyes, smoke tumbling from his mouth as it seemed to run on his wary breath. Despite his sense, his curiosity could not help but wonder what had detained the supervisor for so long, but his appearance didn’t give any clues, remaining entirely non-descript as usual as Deriabin studied him past his stooped shoulder, almost hiding behind it.

… Only, after a moment, he did notice a large bandage covering the back of his left hand, along with the knuckles.

As he stared deeply at the him, Iveshnya glanced at the man, not even turning his head. Deriabin snapped around to avoid his gaze, accidentally long drag of his cigarette which all but burnt it down to a stub, hot ash falling into his lap and singing his black slacks. He kept his head down, only moving to snappily brush the ash to the floor, a slight tear budding in one eye from the pain, afraid to look up and see if the wild creature had crept up to him. He needn’t have worried.

Deriabin saw Iveshnya leave the room, his bandaged hand held behind his back. At his exit, Deriabin relaxed, removing the remains of his cigarette from his mouth as he grimaced regretting the man’s return already. “I deserve milk for this…”[1] he hissed, grabbing the documents set in front of him and pulling one closer, brushing aside the novel he had brough to read to make room.

“Deserve milk for what?” a voice asked above him, making the rabbit jump, splaying his arms out in front of him and nearly tossing his pen. Zablud turned to look up at Volkov who loomed kindly over him, a warm expression on her terrifying face.

“Ah, eh, uh… N-nothing, I was just thirsty,” he sputtered, stammering before he nervously forced out a response, hemming slightly from embarrassment and fear, the latter only feeding into the former. Volkov looked at him with a passive expression, not letting it show that she could see past his weak lie.

“If you’re thirsty I’m sure there is some orange seltzer down in the cafeteria, its quite nice,” she played along, attempting to invite the man along.

“Ah, no thank you,” Zablud nervously turned her down, putting a hand up in apology as his other moved onto the top document on his desk, “I’ve got a lot of work to get done so I’ll have to pass,” he weakly excused, a strained smile on his face. Volkov nodded, assuming that the man was disinclined to chat she continued on. Zablud nervously watched her leave before turning back to his work. The document rested at the head of the pile instantly made him wary. It was thick, about a hundred pages long with small typeface, eerily neat yet marred by singular block of censorship on the first page. He examined it as if it were a live bomb, seeing that little needed to be done to the document, if anything at all, making his role harder to ascertain. Then, at the final page of the document, stamped over in red ink, was an order for the document to be archived as replacement for some coded file.

His first though was one of clarity, ‘ah so that’s it,’ his second, of course, was that he had no idea where this archive was located. He looked around for Alek, hoping to ask her, but found that she was nowhere in sight, having left with most of the others for lunch. He gripped the filed under his arm and stood up from his desk, deciding to go and find her, or anyone else who might be able to answer. He couldn’t let any more work pile up.

As soon as he left the room he felt a chill. “Where are you going, Mr. Deriabin?” Iveshnya asked in a flat tone that clutched at Deriabin’s heart like a rabbit snare. He turned to look up at the man who loomed over him, attempting to calm his expression.

“I wanted to ask Citizen[2] Slava about this document as I don’t quite understand-” he explained, resorting to over-formality out of nerves as Iveshnya held out his hand for the file in question. Nervously Deriabin handed over the document, a defeated look falling over his face before he could stop it. The supervisor scanned over the document quickly, stopping as he came to the last page. He looked down at his subordinate with a sedated expression, seeming to take a moment to decided something in his head.

“Come with me,” he ordered calmly, striding forward with even steps, Deriabin following in his wake, lowering his head out of fear. He was lead down into the depth of the building, sunlight soon becoming unable to reach them as heavy white lights blazed overhead in pithy substitute. Fear began to drown the younger man, pooling around his neck in an inky black-red noose of terror, as his fear suffocated his senses he reached his shaky hands to his pocket and grabbed a cigarette and shoved it into his mouth before lighting it with his presumed killer’s lighter. If he was going to die, he wanted a last smoke.

“Citizen Deriabin,” Iveshnya stated cooly, making the younger man freeze, looking up at the still form of his addresser, “there is no smoking allowed down here,” he finished, tapping a notice on the wall to his side with his unwounded hand.

“A-apologies,” Deriabin answered weakly, snuffing the cigarette between his fingers, his fear snuffing out his pain. Iveshnya didn’t respond and simply continued on down the concrete hallway, the floor made of dark blue linoleum, contrasting with the light grey walls, a tri-colour set of lines that traced the wall on one side. At the end of the short hallway Ivsehnya pushed open a single pair of swinging doors, a digital chime sound off as he did so, holding the door for Deriabin to come through.

He stepped through with some nervousness, believing he may soon be sent off for interrogation for what he did not know. But, as soon as he came past the threshold he saw Volkov stood at the other side of the room near a large cargo elevator surrounded by chain-link fencing. The room itself was made of bare steel, painted army green, almost bomb-proof, the rear of the doors he had stepped through being far thicker than he had thought, covered in heavy locks… Yet Iveshnya had opened them with ease.

The man in question walk towards the elevator, nodding to Volkov as he did. “Excuse me, Comrade Supervisor?” Deriabin asked nervously, trying to steady his voice.

“Yes, Mr. Deriabin?” Iveshnya replied flatly, turning to look back at the man.

“I, I’m afraid I’m rather confused… Could you explain where you are t-taking me?” Deriabin managed to force out, faltering slightly as he finished. Iveshnya studied the man silently.

“As part of your duties, a number of files will be need to be taken to the archive so it is best you know where it is and who to look for to access it. That is why Miss. Volkov is here, as she is a new archivist. I trust that clears things up for you?” Iveshnya finished in a droll tone, monotone exasperation, turning and stepping into the elevator, not needing to gesture for the other two to follow him.

As soon as they were all in the elevator Iveshnya pressed a button on a panel that stood by the rear wall. The doors shunted shut behind them then the whole structure began to descend, Iveshnya still looking straight ahead to the chain-link wall that the panel was attached to staring at the greenish concrete sliding upwards as they descended. The sight was the same for a number of minutes, the space consumed by an undertone of electric motors and grinding gears as the elevator descended.

“How deep is this place?” Deriabin muttered to himself, glancing around nervously.

“A lot of space was needed to store all the files safely,” Ivehsnya answered, the rabbit flinching as he realized he had been heard. Then the concrete fell away, leaving the elevator suspended in the dim open air for a moment before floodlights erupted with heavy mechanical grunts, illuminating the cavernous space. Both Volkov and Deriabin balked at the sight.

The walls were sheer, white faces of salt, the air dry, and suspended in the centre of the space were great suspended buildings, resting on steel supports dug into the clear salt walls, branches diving deeper into tunnels in the salt as the complex sank deeper into the ground than either of the two, even with their impressive sight, could see the bottom almost seeming to fall down straight into nothingness. “Originally, Nizki-Gorod was the site of a salt mine, but it was decided to use the mine as archive space due to it’s protected location and the dry atmosphere prevents damp and keeps the space a good temperature,” Iveshnya continued, unfazed by the sight, in fact glancing up at a group of workmen all stood on one of the higher beams, welding something, sparks falling down before fizzling out. The pair where speechless as the elevator continued to descend, unable to muster up a response to the megastructure that was sat underneath the Ministry building. Eventually the elevator came to a stop level with the entrance corridor of one of the levels, having simply slid past earlier ones. When the doors of both the elevator, this time the side Ivshnya had been facing, and the corridor entrance pulled open a trio of armed guards, all wearing the uniforms of MVD Internal troops[3], though one wore a KGB badge on his lapel to demarcate his position.

They saluted to Iveshnya as he stepped forward, which he returned and which his subordinates mimicked. “The document you are delivering is one this floor, Miss. Volkov will be able to help you with the filing number while Captain Tevlov will escort you,” as he explained this the captain subtly glanced at his supervisor, which Ivehsnya flatly returned, getting a nod in return as Tevlov slung his carbine over his shoulder, beckoning the pair forward while Iveshnya remained in the elevator. He watched them leave as the elevator doors clucked closed and the machine began to re-ascend.

As they walked Tevlov turned back to the pair, “what room does the file need to go?” he asked in a glassy voice, watching the pair carefully with unnerving crystal clear eyes.

“Room Ж-7-5,” Volkov answered quickly while Zablud struggled to understand the stamp, the latter glancing up with a look of both embarrassment and appreciation. Tevlov nodded and led the forward, having to use a card reader as he went between certain wings. The rooms were all painted army green, the floors made of cream linoleum as the walls were lined with thick pipes that covered cables, along with pipes that seemed to run into sprinkler systems. When they cam to the room it bore a humble code designation and not much else, the door held to by a heavy lock that Tevlov briskly unfastened.

The smaller room was filled wall to wall with filing cabinets, along with two rows stood unsupported in the centre of the room. As Zablud stepped in, still uncertain, Volkov tapped him on the shoulder and guided him forward. “Your file is in this particular cabinet, you should be able to figure out the rest,” she encouraged, leaving him in front of a tall cabinet. Zablud gave a slight start, turning back to Volkov with a question but losing the nerve to ask it. He glanced again at he stamp on his file then opened the drawer he thought was correct and dropped the file into it. Not hearing that he had made the wrong choice he turned back, murmuring to himself.

“All this for some files when a computer would save so much…”

“There is one planned,” Tevlov answered, Zablud again jumping as he was heard when he had not wished to be, “but there has been some difficulty supplying the necessary resources while OGAS still has priority, we do have some systems active for more pressing information,” he finished glassily, smiling to the rabbit cheekily the Captain seeming to relax outside of Iveshnya’s presence. Zablud returned the smile, his handsome face for once less crowded by nerves. They were led back to the entrance, Zablud glancing curiously around the site, oddly less unnerved by the armed Captain than his supervisor.

“I hope you both have a good evening, Citizens,” Tevlov bid them as they stepped back into the elevator after it had been called by the two remaining guards.

“And you too, Captain, Comrades,” Volkov retuned, Zablud following her example before the elevator door closed and began its ascent. Zablud watched the complex slip past them as they went, the lower floodlights shutting off as they ascended back up, still stunned by the scale of it. He sunk into though over how much information could be stored here, or whatever else the Soviet government would want to keep hidden.

When the elevator finally came to a stop, the doors opening behind the pair, Volkov turned to Zablud. “Whenever you have any files that need urgent filing, just come find me or leave the file on my desk,” she explained in a formal tone.

“Right, thank you Lyudmila Yurievna,” Zablud thanked, smiling at her as he moved away from her, still unnerved by her appearance.

“Before you go,” she began again, making the smaller man pause, “would you care to join me for a drink?” she asked, confusing the man slightly. “I’m going with Alek, Molcha and Rin and I wondered if you might come as well?” she continued. Initially Zablud felt tempted to turn her down, but with Shigemitsu going, or more succinctly his ride home, he had little choice.

“Of course, that sounds nice,” Zablud agreed, smiling pleasantly at the taller woman. She smiled back in return then told him the details of the meeting, taking place just after work, and that she would meet him after she had finished. Zablud left the room then made his way back through the short concrete passages feeling exhausted already. Thankfully, the rest of the day passed calmly, Zablud ascending back up the stairs to the second floor, placing his final cigarette in his mouth with some worry about making it last. Then as he came to his desk he saw a pack of Soyuz-Apollo cigarettes, the same ones Ivshnya had offered him, laid neatly on the face of the grey and mint-green paperback he had brought in. He looked at the pack with some nervousness as smoke drifted from the smouldering end of his cigarette, glancing around to see if anyone was around to have left it there. He was torn, his discomfort with the situation brokering a solution with his avarice. After a moment’s self-negotiation he picked up the pack and tucked it into his jacket pocket before sitting down to work.

As the day came to a close he spotted Alek and the others get ready to go and, after a moment to steel his nerves, rose to his feet himself and walked over to them. “Good evening, Za!” Alek called as she saw him approach.

“Good evening Miss. Slava,” Zablud kindly returned, flashing a handsome smile on his face.

“Please, call me Alek, now I heard you were going to come with us for dinner?” Alek questioned, an eager yet relaxed expression on her face.

“Yes, that would be correct,” Zablud confirmed amicably, glancing at Shigemitsu as he spoke, the bakeneko not paying him any mind, “though I am curious about where, I was under the impression that most places are not yet fully constructed yet, let alone staffed…” he continued, curiously. Alek gave a light chuckle in response.

“Oh dear soul, your Muscovite is showing. Your correct that nothing official is done as of yet, but you don’t seriously expect that this many people haven’t found some place to sneak a drink in the evening have you?” she teased good naturedly, a warm smile coming across her fox-like features.

After that the quartet led Zablud through the city to the same Cooperative that Shigemitsu was a member of, then walked deep into the complex until they came to a pair of peach-coloured shacks. Outside there was a collection of workers from both the construction sites and the ministry building all gathered on makeshift tables outside them both, men pulling out bottles from the car in the left shack while soup came from an oven built into the right. Zablud looked at the scene with mild surprise, having seen similar sights in Moscow, but was surprised by the number of officials in the crowd. The party sat down at a round table that was free Zablud sat between Alek and Molcha, as soon as they sat down drinks appeared at their table, Alek turning up to the man who served them and thanking him with a sultry smile.

As he imbibed the vodka Zablud reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette about to put it to his lips before he paused and turned to Alek, “would you care for a cigarette?” she put a hand up dismissively in response.

“No thank you. My mother always said that the only women who smoke are actors and whores,”[4] Alek replied, unaware that her conversation partner had often shared the company of both. Zablud nodded amicably and lit himself up, offering one to Molcha who also refused, leaving him the only one smoking at the table, sparks seeming to come alive in his mouth while it was still doused with vodka.

The conversation was pleasant, the evening mostly spent with Alek asking the Muscovite news about the city, with a few small discussions with Molcha about the university, the unusual man asking about a few lecturers who were on the brink of retirement, in addition to one that Zablud had heard no mention of. The last individual caused the man to fall into silent thought for a while. Shigemitsu joined in after a few drinks, attempting to match pace with Zablud out of a sense of rivalry the latter quite unaffected even as he surpassed eighteen glasses. The cat, however, came out completely soused. He mumbled pleasantly under his breath, a bemused smile twitching at his lips as he teetered side-to-side occasionally breaking out into melodies of Japanese that collapsed like cherry blossoms into warm reveries and wails of a lost love in an Oni[5]… not that Zablud had much clue what that was. After a while, when the rest of his table was reaching their limit, bar himself and Volkov, they all gave their farewells.

As Shigemitsu attempted to stand, he seemed to forget about his weak leg and collapsed on one side, cursing confusedly as Zablud came over and hefted him up, supporting the staggering cripple as they made their way to his car. “I’m fine, I’m fine… let me get there on my own you stupid rabbit!” Shigemitsu grumbled irately his strong leg buckling under him as he asserted his own self-reliance.

“You can barely stand man, how will you get there, by crawling?” Zablud snapped bitterly before feeling ashamed and trying to calm himself.

“If needs must,” Shigemitsu answered determinedly, as if he was a soldier refusing surrender rather than a drunk refusing help. Zablud ignored his protests and caried on.

“Look, we’re here now so just let me open the door and I’ll take us both home,” Zablud soothed, taking the key from the man and opening the door, the other man disappearing inside while he was not in Zablud’s purchase, the sound of the car’s engine yapping into life before shifting forward rattling the thin metal structure.

“Get in,” Shigemitsu ordered gruffly, jerking with his thumb for the other man to get in the passenger’s side.

“I can’t let you drive! You can barely stand,” Zablud began to insist but Shigemitsu would hear none of it.

“Either get in or you can walk back,” he re-iterated flatly.

“Fine,” the rabbit caved, walking around and getting in the car after shutting the garage door. The drive, against Deriabin’s expectations was fine, with only a few moments of concern as a number of trucks came towards the car. Over the drive, Shigemitsu continued to babble in pining tones, occasionally glancing wistfully in the direction of Zablud, though the latter assumed he was looking out into the evening’s sky beyond.

When they finally reached their destination it was in the depths of night, the only light were the sparsely lit street-lights, leaving the car back-lit as they came to a stop. “…Thank you, Shigemitsu, I’m sorry for doubting you-” Zablud began before his adresse grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him close, kissing him full on the lips the younger man too stunned to pull away until he was released.

“I miss you so dearly, Uoni[6]-Senpai[7]” he whispered softly, staring dull-eyed at the man he likely didn’t recognise, a loving yet mournful expression worn on his face. Zablud was still too stunned to speak, pulled back against the passenger door as the man stared at him with a warm smile until he seemed to no longer recognize whatever dream had occupied him and he fell back into his seat. “Give me a moment… I just need to get my senses then I’ll get out,” he stated calmly, as if the last moment had not occurred, the only proof being the taste on Zablud’s lips and the seconds that had been lost to time.

“Right… yes, of course… C-comrade Shigemitsu,” Zablud answered in an unsteady voice, flustered voice, as he felt behind him to open the passenger door before stepping out and shutting it, leaving the foreigner in the car as he made his way to his apartment building attempting to settle himself.

[1] In the Soviet Union, for jobs that were considered dangerous or harmful to your health, such as a paint sprayer, miner, machinist or otherwise, you were given free milk at lunch, contained in triangular cartons. So, the expression arose that, if a job was considered hard or unpleasant a Soviet citizen might say ‘I deserve milk for this…’ and an exclamation of complaint.

[2] A common form of address in the Soviet Union. It was often used by soldiers or police officers referring to civilians or a more distanced term than Comrade.

[3] Paramilitary forces, equivalent to French or German Gendarmerie, under the authority of the MVD. They were frequently used to put down unrest and were the decadents of the Checka and NKVD internal troops. Were a separate force to the border troops under MVD control.

[4] Despite the high level of smoking among the male Soviet population, it was generally frowned upon by society for women to smoke, indeed the only people who were seen smoking in public were often actors and those in the sex trade. They were by no means the only women who smoked.

[5] 鬼. Similar to a troll or ogre in western myth, Oni are a type of yōkai in Japanese folklore. There are multiple different types, with various manners and personalities and stories.

[6] 羽鬼

[7] A Japanese honorific used to refer to one’s senior in work or education.

@truegoist @thewormsheep @guesst @simplelobster @ghosticosmic @muaviinu @adanaac @xatsperesso @toomuchhobbies-toolittletime @bubblegumroyal

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // here

#original writing #creative writing #writing #writeblr #fiction #eldritch?#HMAD #this may have spelling errors #sorry if so but I am too tired to notice them #hope you all enjoy this!!

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fissions-chips · 2 months

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shriek

(day 7: can't scream- eldritch au, winged jon. tw for broken bones and injury)

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-

Chest heaving for breath, Jon flung himself forwards, talons only just reaching the branch before him and snagging- sharp pain shivered up the joint of each finger as he hauled himself up to press against the smooth black bark of its trunk, struggling not to slip and fall into the waiting water below.

Pressing one hand to his chest, Jon’s wings hung behind him, shaking with strain- surrounded on all sides by closely-woven branches and vines and lush, dizzying greenery, there was no room for full flight. He wasn’t built for the stop-and-start of fluttering from tree to tree, he was built to dive, but the closely-packed canopy above was too dense to break through, little light reaching beneath the leaves to guide his way. Legs trembling, he clung to the branch beneath him and tried to catch his breath, ears pricked for the sounds of creaking wood and rustling, smooth scales-

Snap.

The breaking of a branch, somewhere above him.

Shit.

Jon leapt from the tree just as a massive hand slammed down where he had perched just moments before, sending him hurtling forward.

The chase was on again.

He hadn’t met many other gods before- Artemis didn’t allow it. Jon wasn’t built for combat the way his soldiers or the Butlers were, strong of tooth and talon. He was… a priest. A servant. One to perch on the Hunt’s shoulder and oversee his dark dealings, his cult organized and efficient under Jon’s watchful eye- one to bend under his hand and murmur his praises, keeping his god well-fed and well-worshipped, feathers straightened (and pulled, when Artemis was in one of his moods) by clever fingers. He’d been gifted wings of his own for it, soft and warm things, but it wasn’t for Jon to swoop down on prey from above alone- it was a symbol. Artemis, the Hunter, and his trusted hunting hawk.

Artemis had told him to stay with the others. This was uncharted territory, the hallowed grounds of some other great creature- a vast, verdant jungle of green, growing things, the air heavy with the scent of flowers and faint, sugary smoke. It was a beautiful place, Jon had admitted, even if they had been told simply to wait and stay put while Artemis investigated the rumors of another god’s presence. The sole member of Foxworth’s coven chosen to accompany them had warned them not to touch anything but the grass beneath their feet, for fear of something toxic- and it seems he had been right. Everything here, pollen and petal and sap and stream, was poison, the danger only evident when the first of Artemis’s men to drink from the water had keeled over.

He was the only one to pass so peacefully- Valentine, velveteen and venomous ruler of this jungle, had found them first.

The ground blurred below him as Jon darted left, a loud snarl of rage shaking the air behind him as the serpentine creature collided teeth-first with the trunk of a massive cypress, massive claws flailing about blindly as his body hurriedly curled around the trunk to steady himself. Shaking his head and spitting out a needle-like tooth, the god let out a chilling shriek of rage as Jon shot past him in a blur of black-barred feathers.

“You fucking cunt!”

Valentine was a massive, massive creature- bigger than Artemis, even. Built like a snake, finned and frilled, flytrap-like, his black scales had blended in perfectly with the dappled ground when he had darted down from the trees to snatch the first man from the dirt, pulling him screaming into the branches above. Not even Butler had noticed he was there.

I hope he’s alright.

The cult’s finest soldier had darted into the undergrowth as soon as the other god had arrived, and Jon didn’t have time to look for him- he needed to find Artemis, warn him, beg him for help, something. Hide beneath his wings and wait for his god to drive the other away. They were not meant to be here- he could feel it, down to the tip of each feather. Everything, the swamp below him and the black-barked trees and the bones he had seen, scattered among the branches, warned him that this was an evil, evil place, far from the warm garden they had stumbled into. Butler would have to look after himself.

A twinge of pain rattled up his ribs, lungs aching, and he hurriedly spiraled down, landing hard on a tangled mass of roots and bending over, gasping for breath. A quick glance around him revealed that, for the moment, he seemed to have lost the serpent- Jon leaned against the wood behind him and tried to catch his breath.

He was being driven… somewhere. Further from where they had first arrived, deeper into the jungle- Jon tilted his head back to find the canopy above a tangled mass of knotted wood and vines. There was no breaking through that- he’d break his wings trying. Pulling them tighter around him, Jon swallowed, fighting back a shiver as he continued to pant, eyes darting left and right and praying not to find the flash of teeth or scales.

He was being hunted.

Fuck.

Crouching down, Jon peered into the swampy waters below- dark and thick with mud, they bubbled strangely, the air heavy and reeking of sulfur and fumes His face twisted into one of disgust. Nasty. He shook his head, feathers bristling at his back. Fucking nasty.

He was trapped from above and below, then. Wincing, Jon let his wings fall behind him for a moment, careful to keep his feathers brushing only the bark below. He didn’t want to know what would happen if they became waterlogged with that muck. The muscles at his shoulders were trembling, and for a moment Jon focused on trying to stretch them out, as carefully as he could. He couldn’t afford for them to fail him, and he was already exhausted- but he couldn’t afford to stay here much longer either. Already, the shadows around him were growing longer as the sun slowly began to dip beyond the leaves. Jon could see in the dark better than most, as a servant of Artemis, but he didn’t trust himself not to crash in such closely-packed conditions-

“Helloooo…”

Jon froze, paling as a soft, lilting voice echoed among the trees- he flattened himself against the trunk behind him, eyes screwing shut as cold fear snatched the breath from his chest.

“Little bird… come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Valentine’s words dripped, hissing, sticky and saccharine as sap- the distant creak of wood and tree limbs and scales brushing bark met Jon’s ears as the serpent slowly wove himself among the branches, golden-green eyes glittering as they roamed the understory around him. “Come out and say hello, little sparrow,” he purred, forked tongue flickering from between his teeth. “I won’t bite.”

Jon forced one eye open, slowly looking upwards as massive, hooked claws curled around the branches far above him, Valentine slowly moving to coil himself around the tree he was hiding under. His shadow shifted over Jon, and the man found himself beginning to shiver, unable to stop himself. His feathers flattened against his back completely, one hand grabbing at the edge of his wing as Jon pressed his back to the bark and prayed that the creature didn’t look down.

Up close, he could make out scattered green and sundew-pink scales across the god’s back and down his spine, fins flattening down the sides of his slithering body as he lazily leaned against a nearby trunk, lifting a hand to his mouth and calling, voice still sweetened and soft.

“I’ll find you eventually, little winged thing- you serve Artemis, don’t you? I thought I felt another god’s presence nearby, that prowling creature… won’t you fetch him for me? I’d love to meet him…”

The claws above him dug deep into the trunk, chips of bark and splintered wood falling against Jon’s feathers as something sinister bled into the tone of his voice.

“I can’t wait to taste his feathers between my teeth. Who do you think will find him first- me, or you?”

Jon paled- he clapped his hands over his mouth to bite back a shriek of fear. He wants to hurt Artemis- he couldn’t, could he? Artemis had always seemed untouchable, immortal, even surrounded by his kin- but Jon knew gods could bleed. Looking up at the massive serpent, terror sank its teeth into the pit of his stomach as Jon pictured his god slashed and bitten, sinking to the ground and lying still. Artemis wasn’t immune to poison, and he wasn’t immune to venom.

“Do you think he’s hiding?” Valentine continued, taunting- he suddenly stooped, beginning to peer at the swampy waters below. “Is he afraid of me like you are? I can smell it- where are you? I won’t hurt you, if you come out. I just want you to fetch him. That’s not too hard, is it?”

Jon watched as the serpent paused for a moment, eyes narrowed as he took in a deep breath. He opened his mouth, and suddenly blew a long jet of thick, black smoke into the air- it began to fall across the swamp like fog, thick and choking and reeking of fumes.

“Come out,” the serpent hissed- he leaned back and turned, the tree trunk shuddering against Jon’s back as he settled against it, waiting. “Or I’ll smoke you out. You can come up here and say hello, or choke... I’ll wait.”

Jon lifted a foot and flinched as he felt it brush his skin, stinking like melting plastic- he covered his face, eyes stinging as he felt his chest seize tightly. Shaking, he held his breath and screwed his eyes shut, heart pounding.

He couldn’t stay here- his wings were trembling, still overworked and sore, but his head was spinning and his skin itched, the taste of fumes bathing his tongue even with his hands shielding his mouth and nose. His lungs ached for breath and the urge to cough, and Jon felt his ribs tighten in his chest, unbidden. Don’t, he begged himself, wings slowly stretching wide as his talons dug into the bark below his feet.

Don’t cough. Don’t scream. Just fly.

His body failed him just as Jon pushed himself forward, wings snapping downwards to send him hurtling skyward as he choked on air, one arm covering his mouth as he frantically dodged branches and climbed higher. Half-blinded and shaking, he struggled not to crash into Valentine himself as he pulled free from the smoke.

Valentine’s head whipped around, eyes widening as Jon darted past, just out of arm’s reach. Baring his teeth, the serpent arched his back and grinned, reaching out and beginning to race after the other, tail lashing. “There you are!” He crowed, lip curling as Jon barely dodged another trunk, gasping for breath.

He couldn’t see. He could hardly breathe. Jon’s feathers brushed bark and he flinched, nearly tumbling from the air entirely as he smacked into a branch and dragged past it. Shit. Turning his head, he saw a blurred shape swipe at him, Valentine’s claws barely clipping the edge of one wing, nearly slicing through his feathers as Jon let out a shriek and lashed out- the god snarled and ducked away, eyes narrowed to shield them from a slash of Jon’s talons.

Diving, Jon ducked beneath his outstretched arm and wheeled around, flying as fast as he could back the way he had come. His shoulders screamed with pain, and his vision refused to clear completely, shapes blurring and darkening as he fluttered a frantic, crazed path beneath the trees. Behind him, he could hear crashing and the snap of teeth, Valentine weaving among the branches with expert skill, claws leaving deep gouges in the wood as he surged forward. Jon couldn’t tell if he was gaining or falling behind, but he could see the shape of his sinister, sneered smile, amused. Not hurried. Not annoyed.

He’s playing. This is a game- just a game.

Horror struck him and turned his blood cold, the irony not lost on Jon as he fled. He was being toyed with, like a cat with a mouse- like Artemis did with his prey, pinning it and rolling it beneath his talons to feel it shriek and squirm. Jon was utterly lost in this jungle. For all he knew, he was only flying further into the swamp-

CRACK.

Jon hit the tree full-force, his shoulder taking the brunt of the blow and sending a shock down his body- something caved, wing grinding against its joint as Jon dropped like a stone, flailing and clawing at the bark to try to slow his fall. He hit a branch stomach-first, all the air punched from his chest- he hooked an arm around it, only for pain to suddenly seize him completely, so sharp and blinding that he barely felt himself slip loose.

When Jon came to a second later, he was upside-down- his wings hung limp and uneven, stretched out above his head. The tips of his feathers were dragging in the swampy water below. Jon blinked, shuddering as a white-hot, dizzying pain spiraled up his shoulder and down his body. His vision refused to clear, but he forced himself to lift his head.

One leg was held tightly, wrapped in the tip of the serpent’s tail- Jon let his head fall back down, half-stunned and falling limp in fear. His body wouldn’t obey him. He stared down at the swamp below him, bubbling- a quiet whine slipped from his throat, the stench of burnt feathers nearly lost to him as he was slowly pulled up into the trees.

“Poor birdy,” Valentine cooed, appearing from between the branches as he caught up with the rest of his body, curling himself over a particularly thick branch and blinking down at the small, shivering man, dropping him into his open palms. “Hit your head? Ohh, your poor little wing-“ His claws curled around his feathers, Jon’s eyes widening as he realized they were blackened, flaking away between the god’s fingers. Suddenly, Valentine pulled, and Jon screamed as it was nearly pulled from the joint, broken bone grinding at the point closest to his shoulder.

“Oops.”

Jon shrank away, Valentine releasing his feathers only to brush the tip of one claw against Jon’s scalp, like one would pet a bird. “I told you not to run,” he muttered, the god’s voice taking on a petulant note, dripping with shallow, false sympathy. “I didn’t want to hurt you- you’re so cute. Where’s Artemis? …Maybe he can fix you…”

Wincing, Jon shook his head- the sharp edge against his throat pressed deeper, blood welling beneath as the serpent’s voice turned coaxing.

“Come on, pet… don’t make me hurt you. Call your god- he’ll come running, right? You must be so special to have earned such a pretty little gift as these feathers…” Leaning close, his eyes narrowed as his hand was suddenly joined by the other, curling around Jon to trap him between them. The man screamed as his broken wing was forced against his back at an awkward angle, feather breaking between the god’s fingers as Valentine hissed, voice no longer quite so pleasant.

“Call for Artemis.”

A whine slipped between his teeth- Jon shook his head again stubbornly, Valentine’s lip curling as his fingers squeezed tighter. He shook him slightly. “I can mend you, little one… I’ll fix your broken wing, keep you safe in my gardens while it heals…” he coaxed, scratching at Jon’s chin gently with a claw. “I’d hate for your bones to rot here- you’d look so pretty perched at my arm. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Trembling, Jon turned his head away, his eyes screwing shut- cold fear had caught him completely, his teeth chattering, but he forced himself to bite his tongue, even as tears dotted his eyes.

Valentine’s eyes narrowed, glittering cruelly- then, he sighed. “Last warning.” He muttered, brows lifting when Jon only remained as he was, turned away and shivering. Rolling his shoulders, the serpent shrugged, Jon lifted further between his hands as his shadow fell across him.

“Suit yourself…”

Jon blinked open his eyes to find Valentine looming over him, forked tongue flickering- he froze as the god’s mouth parted to reveal rows of razor-edged needle teeth and a dark, dripping mouth, the man left staring up into the serpent’s throat as smoke curled around him. For a moment, neither moved- then, he was lifted upwards, Valentine slowly beginning to bite down. Teeth sank into Jon’s back, brushed against his chest, the man flinching away with a shrill, choked scream as the serpent’s tongue brushed his face. Venom dripped to trace down his shoulders, and it burned, eating away at flesh and feather to mingle with sudden, spilt blood.

Jon’s vision darkened, every sense filled with needling teeth and smoke and the stench of burning feathers and blood. Overwhelmed with terror, his nerve failed him, and Valentine paused as he felt the man begin to thrash and struggle and squirm, gasping for air as he suddenly, violently screamed.

“ARTEMIS!”

Jon screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, sobbing and begging for his god to appear until his voice broke completely- he didn’t know when the serpent pulled away, or when he was held aloft by his tattered wing, shuddering with pain. All he knew was that when he couldn’t scream anymore, he sobbed, wreathed by smoke and blinded by terror, tucked beneath the god’s hand to wait for Artemis, eventually, to arrive.

#wrote this in a handful of hours so its messy but i wanted to write some injury instead of just hurt/comfort. i've been too soft lately.#so have eldritch valentine being an ass! i wanted to see how little context and setup i could get away with lol so forgive any confusion #or errors for that matter- i'll proofread it tomorrow #eldritch au #oc: valentine #fission’s fics

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wr-n · 7 months

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Endless culls a planet.

#in his eyes it doesnt belong #it shouldnt exist #so he destroys it #to follow his own rules #wraith art #Endless #eldritch error #eldritch twins

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hazeltumbleberr · 1 month

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I’d figure people would reblog with their own interpretations on this fella so I’m going to start this as a reblogging trend

#error.txt #blueberror #vast error #glitch #grim reaper #soul collector #tw death #eldritch #spooky

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mlwritingprompts · 2 years

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Submitted Prompt: Cosmic Loneliness

Hi, Rjalker, emberwritesinsight, it's me again, the writer for that "Cosmic Error" prompt from a year ago.

October is here, but instead of horror (as I know I can't write it at all lol) I decided to write a whole angst prompt from the prespective of my little baby concept, because I have some weird love-hate relation with making a character I write suffer so they can grow, for the better of the worse.

Prompt occurs during the "Cosmic Error" prompt, but with more of the little baby concept's thoughts and perspective.

On a side note, I realized I am aromantic and non-binary! :)

Too many awesome neopronouns to pick my new ones from though.

TW: angst, unreality, cosmic horror(ish)? existential crisis?

Child concept uses neopronouns it/its.

from Rjalker: Hello, welcome back! :D Congrats on figuring out you're nonbinary and aro! :D

[ID: A gif of an animated flag with half the aromantic and half the nonbinary flag, flying against a blue sky, with white text beneath that reads, "Hell yeah!!!". End ID.]

Only thing that really needed editing was a common mistake with it/its pronouns:

"Its" is the poseessive ie: "That's its name",

"It's" with an apostrophe is the contraction of "it is" ie: "It's an adorable baby"

Onto the prompt :)

====

In the boundless vastness of the cosmos, a being slowly came to be.

What it was, how it came to existence, and what its purpose and goals, were things it couldn't care about.

Lacking the ability to comprehend what exists around it, unable to focus its attention on a single thing, as its mind was similar to that of a baby, it could only do one thing it instinctually felt was appropriate.

To look around it, a feeling consuming it to do so.

Curiosity. A desire to see the unknown was bubbling in its existence.

There was no purpose for it doing so. The being just wanted to.

Soon enough, it felt another sensation.

It didn't ponder about it, neither did it care. It just listened to it.

It fell asleep.

Slowly time passed. The being, slowly, but surely, grew.

It could feel as it no longer had to sleep every few hours, and it could feel as its attention span grew, its mind expanding.

'Cosmos. I am in the cosmos!' It giddily thought to itself, feeling a strange sensation in its being. Pride at having the slightest bit of understanding of where it is.

Just like a kid, it loved its new knowledge. It felt like it was holding a treasure.

It loved its existence.

====

Years pass, power grows, intelligence widens, and curiosity increases.

'I am a concept!'

'I live in a giant family of concepts!'

'I wonder how pretty this cosmos will be!'

'I wonder when my sibilings will greet me!'

Such thoughts consume its childish mind.

Even so, even with the growing knowledge it had consumed, it still couldn't realize what it was, and how it came to be. It just thought it would find out one day.

Such was its innocence.

====

Centuries had passed, and it finally got the insight of what it was, but it was very confused by the answer, as it only raised more questions.

'I was born from the cosmic holes? From the fragmentation of my siblings?'

It would have tilted its head, if it had one.

It could feel that the cracking of its siblings was bad, but...

'But, it gave birth to me though? Was... that bad?'

Confusion was bubbling in its still young mind.

'Am... I disliked? Am I hated? By the cosmos? By my siblings? But, aren't I a concept just like them? No! It couldn't be! I am just overthinking!'

It decided to ignore that thought process.

Yeah! It isn't hated. The other concepts are just feeling awkward. Maybe they don't know how to interact with it on their own. There is no way for them to hate it, right?

After all, it didn't do anything bad to them.

Yeah. That must be it. That must be. It isn't in denial at all.

====

A few more years pass, and it could feel glee in its being.

It did it! It finally found how to interact with the other concepts!

Now, it could befriend them for real and bond with them!

A stream of energy manifested by the baby concept's will, going out of its own domain.

Only to be met with a sensation that forced it to reel back.

Pain.

Pain and loss.

The moment its energy exited its domain, it was deleted, as the baby concept felt as if its being was being sliced apart.

It retracted, fear and confusion consuming it.

'Why? Why did you hurt me? Do... do you really... hate me?' It thought in fear and sadness.

It couldn't comprehend why this was happening.

Why is the cosmos and its siblings rejecting it? Why did they harm it even though it just wanted to be with them?

Still, it didn't want to give up.

The idea of being alone scared it. It wanted to connect with them.

Unfortunately, the same results were the only thing it had gotten.

Had it been able to cry, it would have done so, as it realized that it better retreat to it's plane of existence.

'I just wanted to not be lonely...'

====

More years pass, and the child concept grows. Intelligence grows, control over its power and its understanding of it rises.

Loneliness, also grows.

'Maybe, I should just... roam the universe. At least, I am not hurt when I move my plane of existence with me as well.'

With such thoughts, it pulled its energy, and started floating as the universe kept expanding.

A long journey spanning several centuries had begun, and it ended with curiosity as the child concept felt something strange happening on one particular blue planet.

'Strange... Concepts feel... weak here. I wonder why?'

Curiosity drove it, its senses guiding it towards one of the largest amount of concepts it felt on the planet.

There was two... humans? Yes, two humans talking to each other while speaking to small cute animal-like beings?

It's instincts told it that they were kwamies.

It watched as the human woman, Emilie if what the guy Gabriel said, declared that the pieces of jewelry they were wearing, the so-called Miraculous, were dangerous, and need to be destroyed.

And so, the child concept watched in fascination as the two transformed, and then a wave of energy was unleashed, destroying the jewels they wore-

And dread and loss swallowed the being.

Confusion, then terror, as it realized it.

Deletion. Its essence, leaving it. Power, erased. Horror, consuming its being.

'No no NONONO! I- I don't want this! I refuse! I want to live!'

In its fear, it abandoned all restraints, unleashing its power. It wanted something- Anything for it to do to ensure it's survival-

And the fragment of Time contained within its being, obeyed.

Time, moved backward.

====

It could barely process anything as time was reversed, trying its best to calm down, as it realized what happened, and what would happen few hours later if it didn't interfere.

'No! I- I will still die! I need to- I need to stop them!'

Decision made, it hurried back toward Earth, planning to stop the human couple from killing it. It managed to Subjugate Gabriel so he will not heal his wife, barely succeeding in its goal.

Only for the being to freeze, as Gabriel stated to himself, that he will destroy the Miraculouses that took away his wife, deeming them too dangerous.

Desperation entering its being, it decided it had to rewind time again.

====

'This time, that Gabriel guy will not try to destroy these jewels! And I will stay alive!' The child concept thought giddily as it watched the next events.

Gabriel truly did not destroy the Miraculouses, and for few days, the being felt happy, until Gabriel had met an old man, who decided to help Gabriel, healing Emilie in the process--

And planning to destroy the Miraculous.

'No!'

Once more, time was rewound.

And as the child concept was rewinding time, another sensation was felt through its being.

====

"Don't worry, Emilie. I will never stop trying to heal you!" Gabriel stated after being Subjucated to not abandon Emilie, and into thinking he must heal her on his own.

It didn't take a day, before his akuma had managed to bring him both the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses.

Gabriel, wearing both, wished for his wife to be cured.

Reality shuddered, as the cosmos was being destabilized.

And the child concept could only look on in shock as the wish was affecting it as well.

Another reset ensues.

====

'Why?' It pondered, a new feeling entering its being.

Sadness and annoyance.

'Why does this keep happening to me?'

It just wanted to live.

'Why can't I just be left alone?'

It just didn't want to die.

'Was this... so difficult? Answer me, cosmos!'

But, there was no answer for it to hear.

It just- wasn't this enough, already?

====

"No! I can't keep going the same way I was before!" A blond girl screams in her pillow, remembering the near-death experience she suffered. "I don't want to be killed. I- I must change. If only so I will not be responsible for my own and my father's demise!" her hand tightening into a fist. "I must change... even if it required being nice to others..."

A girl resolving to do better as a person, so she will not suffer.

Reset.

====

"I am done, father! I am tired of you! And your abuse! I hate you! Plagg! Claws out! Cataclysm!"

A boy, deciding to deal with his abusive father once and for all.

Reset.

====

"Ladybug. I- I want to say that I am deeply sorry. There's no excusing my harassment of you. And you have every right to hate me. I, I understand. I will never ask you for dates or endanger you or my friends just because of jealousy or my feelings anymore."

A hero that had gotten his act together, realizing the errors in his way, and swearing to be better.

Reset.

====

"Enough is enough! Chat Noir! I told you, again! Over and over! I don't love you that way! I am getting tired of this, Chat! And if you don't stop, then I will take your Ring! This is your last warning!"

A girl furious at a callous partner that only adds more to her plate and ignores all her boundaries, deciding to end the whole problem.

Reset.

====

"I- I am giving up on Adrien. No, Alya, I am serious. I am not joking around. Yes, Alix, I will never forgive you if you keep pushing me towards him anymore. We're fourteen for crying out loud!"

A teen who decided to set her priorities, and make her boundaries clear.

Reset!

====

Why? Why is it always the same result?

Why does it always ends with its existence almost erased?

Rage slowly consumes its being.

It was unfair.

It didn't deserve that. It did nothing to deserve suffering that kind of punishment.

'But, you don't care about me, do you? Answer me, Cosmos!'

It was tired. So tired of the attitude the cosmos was taking.

'You did nothing when the concepts were shattered. You did nothing when humans enslaved fragments of the concepts. And yet!'

It was really difficult to calm itself down.

'Yet, when I gain life. When I was born, from your own carelessness and negligence, you decide to let me be erased? Don't make me laugh!'

Determination was filling it.

'If death is the fate you decided to me, fine! I don't need your reality!'

'I reject it! Your reality! I will make my own! A reality where I and similar beings don't need to fear the Deletion you tried to force on me! A cosmos where everyone and everything can coexist. This is my promise!'

===

END.

Good for it! :)

#ml writing prompts #Miraculous Ladybug #ML OCs #Cosmic Loneliness #Cosmic Error #angst #unreality #cosmic horror #eldritch #neopronouns in action #ititspronouns #it/its #it/its pronouns #I loved reading every second of this #described images

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