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therealvinelle · 3 years

Note

for experiments sake, let's say Aro DOES have a vampire who can blow people up. how would twilight go then? (that ask was hilarious btw, thank you!)

(Anon is referring to this post.)

Oh my god I'm so glad you asked.

So, since you refer to a post where I used a random generator to determine who would be blown up, I'm going to go ahead and make that Aro's new guy's power.

He can kill anyone within an instant, remotely, and he can't be blocked. His is Death and he will not be stopped. Let's call him Torgrim, it's appropriately badass.

The drawback being that he has no way of determining who gets blown up. It's completely random. Though for the sake of having my character list be relevant, we'll say that his power only works on vampires.

Aro doesn't have any real use for him, but he didn't want the guy runninng around on his own either so, sure. He can join the guard.

SO. I have a list of 53 vampire characters who are alive during the Breaking Dawn confrontation. All of them are named, as I did not feel serious adding "Volturi witness #1" or "Maria's newborn army recruit #1" when I don't know that the already named characters in the appendix aren't witnessing for the Volturi, or that Maria actually has a newborn army at the time of the Breaking Dawn trial.

Also, for the record, I didn't prewrite who gets blown up, I get to find out as I write this post.

Irina is off the list, as Caius just killed her. Torgrim is on the list.

Alec, Jane, and Chelsea try their gifts, each of them fail. The Cullen side is starting to get their hopes up.

Never fear, Caius has an ace up his sleeve.

A new figure, a man cloaked in vantablack (Aro wanted to give him light gray since he can't actually be used for anything, upon second thought he didn't want the guy to get uppity and start using his gift.) steps forward.

No one's seen this guy before.

Everyone turns to Eleazar, and to Edward, wanting to know what this guy can do.

Eleazar stares at Torgrim, squints, tilts his head, squints harder, tilts his head the other way. Finally, he says "He has some kind of offensive power."

Edward doesn't know what the gift is, but he does know that Aro is shitting bricks. He grins, this guy isn't gonna be a problem.

Torgrim grins, theatrically snaps his fingers, and-

Rosalie blows up.

The Cullens and witnesses scream in equal parts shock and terror. Bella can't protect them after all.

Aro, knowing this was extremely lucky and also that they just killed Carlisle's daughter, wants to pack up and get the fuck out, now. They've shown that they have the power to destroy the Cullens, great, let's show them mercy and leave.

There's not going to be a happy ending now, not with Carlisle's daughter dead and Carlisle himself sobbing on the ground, clutching rubble a few hundred meters away, but the Volturi are now in control. There can still be a peaceful ending.

Edward, reading his thoughts, demands that the witnesses hold their positions, Aro isn't in control of this situation after all.

Caius decides to take the gamble. He tells Torgrim to go.

Stefan blows up.

Caius is now cackling loudly, while the Cullen witnesses are closing their eyes in dread. They were fools to believe they could ever stand against the Volturi, or that some newborn girl could possibly protect them from the Volturi.

Aro thinks about how miraculous his luck is, that not only is Torgrim not killing any Volturi, but he is killing the vampires present. This is everything he ever hoped for from Torgrim.

Edward hears all of this.

Being close to panicking, he finds himself incapable of closing his mouth. He tells everybody that Torgrim has no control of his power, and taunts him.

Torgrim has a few issues.

Here he is, so very powerful, he can kill anybody and everybody, he could render Jane, Alec, Felix, and Demetri all redundant, he could singlehandedly rule the world if he so wished.

Except he can't, because his power is randomized.

He possesses such great power, but no way to wield it.

Now, thanks to mathematically improbable luck, the gods have granted him one moment of glory.

And this rebel twerp means to ruin it for him. This rebel twerp dares to mock him.

Torgrim stares down Edward, narrows his eyes, and with every ounce of his being he concentrates on Edward Cullen.

He unleashes his power.

Kebi blows up.

Carlisle begs Edward to stop talking, everyone begs him to stop talking, Bella is losing control of her shield in distress.

Aro is this close to hyperventilating. Torgrim, for the love of god, don't try it again. He doesn't even need to, Alec can take advantage of Bella's inner turmoil now.

Before Torgrim can use his power again, Aro orders him to stop. Point proven, let's be merciful now. (Before Aro himself blows up.)

Edward, desperate for a win in the midst of all this disaster where he just goaded the Volturi into blowing up Stefan and Kebi, decides it's speech time. He starts talking about how the Volturi are tyrants, they're evil and corrupt and will kill just about anybody. Literally, they have a guy who'll kill anybody at all.

Caius starts doing the math on how many vampires Torgrim has to kill before Edward explodes. Sadly for Caius, Marcus was always the one who was good at maths, but Marcus doesn't care anymore. He asks anyway. Marcus, E = {1 ∈ 0 < n }, and P(Edward dies) = 1/E, uh- Marcus, help. MARCUS.

Aro is debating which option makes him look less terrible, to interrupt Edward and start bickering with this seventeen-year-old or wait until he's done before saying anything, or take advantage of Bella's panic and try Alec again, or-

Torgrim uses his power again.

Liam blows up.

Holy fuck, Siobhan should have prevented that. I guess Python is more powerful than she is.

Someone tackles Edward to the ground, the Cullen surrender, and Alice and Jasper arrive just in time to see that they've already lost.

Aro brings Renesmée and Bella with him back to Volterra, not so much out of interest for Renesmée so much as bringing the daughter is a perfect excuse to bring Bella as well. Bella is too dangerous to be left alone out there. In time, she will either come to see the Volturi as friends, or be executed.

This timeline is the nail in the coffin for his friendship with Carlisle, as he killed his daughter and then kidnapped Bella and Renesmée, but it's a sacrifice he can make.

(Though should the opportunity arise...)

A few months later, wanting to prove to the world that this wasn't just a one-off, that Torgrim is indeed a mighty man who can somewhat direct his power in the right direction and should be allowed to do things within the Volturi, Torgrim uses his power again.

Emmett blows up.

... this program is just refusing to harm the Volturi, huh.

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prime-pulse · 3 years

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8. What do they believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

12. How old are they? When is their birthday?

18. What languages can they speak? Where did they learn these languages?

30. When frightened, will they resort to “fight” or “flight”?

32. What is their self esteem like?

33. What is their biggest fear? How would they react to having to face it?

41. What does their laugh sound like? Do they snort when they laugh? How often do they laugh?

62. Have they ever been betrayed? How did it affect their ability to trust others?

75. If given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

80. Are they a morning person or a night owl?

88. Do they have an accent?

89. What is their D&D alignment?

93. What’s the most iconic line of dialogue they’ve ever said?

For Edric, Dirt, or Ziv? And if any of these are repeats, you don’t have to answer them :D

Ohh I’ll do Ziv since I haven’t talked about them much !! I need to draw them a bit more I love them....

8) Ziv is under the belief sort of just... Nothing happens. You’re gone and that’s it, that, or it’s like you’ve fallen asleep and you’re stuck dreaming for the rest of your eternity. They don’t like to think about it much since they’d rather just pretend they’re unkillable

12) Depending on the AU theyre anywhere from about 18-24, though in the canon ninjago timeline they're about 22 to 24 since I HC the ninja (minus Lloyd) to all be in their 20s in more recent seasons. In season 1 they were only like 16 but now around season 15 they’re just somewhere in their 20s. Their birthday is December 28th though!

18) Ziv knows English, Spanish, Japanese, and is working on learning Korean. They learnt Spanish themself through libraries and audiobooks so it’s a bit shabby, but the other two they learned/are learning from proper classes!

30) Definitely fight. They only flee if they feel they have no chance of winning, but with their elemental power being color, they like to make everything around (except for whoever is threatening them) either vantablack or pure white so they can’t be seen while attacking— then once it’s dealt with, everythings back to normal and they move on!

32) Ziv thinks pretty highly of themself, they're confident in their appearance and how they act. They have days where they hit lows like any other person does, but for the most part they treat themself with the respect and love they know they deserve

33) Probably becoming a villain? They went to Darkley's as a kid and has since left that path behind them, but they worry every day they might turn out to be 'the bad guy' in people's books. They don’t want to hurt people in any way and constantly try to make everything around them better in any way they can, even if it’s in their usual sarcastic delivery

41) Ziv has a very bold & loud laugh, and only snorts if you catch them off guard or say something REALLY funny. Their laugh is warm and can be heard from rooms away and is always pleasant to hear!!

62) They’ve never been necessarily betrayed. They’ve lost friends by going down a different path than them, but they’ve never felt completely and utterly betrayed by anyone. They aren’t trusting by default, but they don’t have issues trusting people, it just takes a bit for them to warm up to you! (Unless they find you funny)

75) They'd draw all over the piece of paper; probably a landscape straight out of a cyberpunk or sci-fi novel. They’d draw in everything with the pencil and use their power to color everything in just how they see it in their mind, even if the color would only be temporary— good way to pass the time!

80) Night owl by nature, morning person by choice. They love to stay up late, it’s when they thrive, but they go to bed early and wake up early because of the requirements of their job. They don’t enjoy it, everyone knows not to disturb them before they’ve had their coffee, but they wouldn’t change it!

88) No accent ! Unless they’re speaking anything other than English, I think their accent would be pretty bad then

89) Chaotic good for sure. Find loopholes in stupid laws and use them to help people, without actually breaking any laws.

I’m skipping 93 because I haven’t... written with them much yet, actually. Get back to me in like a month or two on that one

#Character asks #OC: Ziv #not art

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doodleggoat · 3 years

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You know what? I'm on the mood to tell you about the stories I'm working on, I've only mentioned them and drew some OCs but I never actually talked about it

So buckle up everybody because I think I'm gonna extend a lot while talking about every single one

The first one is "Central City" about Fredderick and Rudolph and their daughter Alexa getting stuck on a futuristic city called "Central city" trying to adapt to this place they eventually meet the "Laughter" band, the 2nd most known musical band in the world in the middle of a competition against the "Big Bear Baron Studio's" band, the 1st most known musical band in the whole world

And so the Laughter's have to climb their way to the top while they're constantly being sabotaged by the Big Bear Baron Studio's, while also learning to unite in harmony thanks to Alexa and her father's

The band members are Shannone, Monique Le Mousé, DJ Meg and Rat Queen

the Central City is a enormous boulevard with shops in every side and corner with the only transport being trains but those are found everywhere too looking more like a futuristic metro/underground city

Second one and probably the oldest one is "Shaun's Luck" and as the name implies it's about a girl called Shaun that lost her sister and basically everything, needing to escape into the woods and live alone she finds a cave, and having nothing to lose she goes in there and meets the bad luck spirit Vantablack, at first trying to kill her on purpose but as time passes Shaun gets to know about Vantablack and become friends but being friends with a bad luck spirit is the basic equivalent of hugging a cactus

Shaun's objective is to bring her sister back, and for that she needs to go to the antimatter dimension located at the bottom of the cave, a place where the rules of luck shift, her bad awful luck becomes a reasonable good luck and with a bad luck spirit at her side she feels capable of reaching her destination, but there's still that bit of bad luck in her that won't make things easy

The third one is "Seasons" a story involving various (and a LOT of) characters like Günter and Jimmy, Ellie and Lilea, even Marchel and Bug, in a series of events separated in 6 arc's

The introduction arc, the Marchel arc, the alien arc, the demon arc, the war arc and the final arc

This is probably the longest out of every other story I wrote so far

The fourth one is "Roler Complex" at first a joke one off that I made about a global virus outbreak that made people all across the globe act the exact opposite of their normal selfs, kinda like someone was using their bodies to roleplay (ence the name)

The protagonist is a cat boy called "Roy" the very first victim to get infected with the virus accidentally spreading it around until her girlfriend, a stickman enthusiast that goes by the "Stickgirl" name, with her martial arts mastery contains him and sends him to her sister "Natasha", an overpowered fennec that unfortunately didn't make things any better adding more layers and personalities to him AND split him up into 5 different entities, anger, sadness, happiness, Goodness and Villainousness

And so the have to hunt his other personalities and put him back together while also looking for a cure, by the way Natasha was infected and got nerfed, she can only summon cheese from thin air at this point

Now I'm going with the mini series even though I don't think they're mini, it's more of alternate universes/headcanons

First mini is "Betweeners" where Günter, Nia and Rat Queen get trapped in constant dimension travelling shenanigans, mostly it's based around different games, movies and series I like and them interacting with their environment, with the occasional alternate universe counterparts

For example Nia was first encountered on that one game of the "Sinking City" even though I never played it except for a song I heard for it

And Rat Queen was first encountered on an alternate timeline of her own story, just after she falls asleep on a scene of the original story

Second mini is Rat Queen's story or "Chapter RQ" is a prequel from before the events of Central City, where after forgetting she had to do a song for the next concert Shannone leaves her on her own on the massive hotel and falls asleep halfway to the room and when she wakes up a whole kingdom of rats are awaiting for their new Queen to rule them

After that all of the events happen on the basement of the hotel, from Monique's arrival to Aspser crush on Queen to the meeting of a famous rodent hero

Third mini is an amalgamation of all the main stories after a reset of the universe where all of the characters are kids again, the mains are Bug, Günter, Nia, Marcus and Rat Queen

It's a one off more than anything but I refuse not to write any of this in the future

#gg talks #Seasons #Central City #Shaun's Luck #Roler Complex #Betweeners #Chapter RQ #Prequeled #<< I'm gonna try to tag my art with their respective story tags from now on #text post

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years

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Without Question (11)

Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Content: the void

Warnings: ...no Steve?

Word Count: It’s like places and my own emotions taunting me through nostalgia about where exactly am I after one entire year. You know what...I am a bit different, with more stories than before, more experience and more incidents to inspire me to keep writing and keep moving forward. I know I’ll find a way. I jsut get scared when I don’t see the straight path. I’ll find my way.

MASTERLIST & Taglist in bio, my love

You are back. Back in the void.

The emptiness does not seem that eerie this time; its familiarity is nothing but welcoming, for you can see nothing but yourself. And you can see yourself a bit too clearly in this otherwise dark space.

“Am I dead?” You ask the void, looking everywhere as if searching for someone.

“No one is ever dead,” a familiar voice calls out from somewhere in that comforting dark, the hoarseness toning down with every syllable to give way to something...galactic.

“Your...your voice.” You do not know how to describe what you just heard, something that was nothing like what you had been hearing these past few days. “It’s...beautiful,” you exhale at this illuminating confusion inside your heart.

It feels different. The presence.

“Our chords have varying vibrations on different planets,” the soothing voice, like a melodic harp coming once again from this sea of black, “this variant that you hear is the one with no intervention.”

“Wow.” You do not realise when that word leaves you. It just does. “So...I’m...not dead. But I’m no longer on earth. Does that mean we won?”

It is hard to make out the shape at first but as the figure takes further steps to close the distance between the two of you, you feel your lips part, your eyes go wide and your lungs pause at the towering structure of what was once deemed as the female of the monstrosity of her species. Long sleek black legs going up to form a torso twice as wide and long as yours with more ripped muscles than your one combined chubby belly. Slender arms with equally ripped muscles swung on either side before the steps paused and lips darker than vantablack stretched in a smile while a wide set of eyes filled with their personal set of galaxies looked down at you.

“Yes,” she declared with a nod of her perfectly shaved head that stretched a bit more than a human’s at the back, almost predator like but more subtle, “we won.”

“So you knew you would be the end of your species?”

The question is put a bit softly, not knowing what medium is letting your voice flow with such tenderness to the giant alien that is taking you on a slow walk somewhere she thinks ‘you will love to see’. It’s nice, this feeling of not having to hold any grudges or ill-will, of not being hosts and parasites, just two creatures from different parts of the universe walking in nothingness, talking like they are catching up.

“I did, yes. This was one of the reasons the old commanders had put a stop on recruiting anyone from my family in the armies. Or anyone who even had a sixty-seven per cent match with my DNA.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah. The only reason I was able to join the army was that the old commander died and certain rules were changed. My mother had been quite adamant on preventing me from joining the army. But she left behind an entire plan to reveal the big secret and get away from everyone who would be after my life once everything went public.”

You stop short, a muted gasp escaping your lips while she takes about two huge steps before stopping to search for you.

“Your mother was the old commander?”

She nods.

“Oh...oh, I’m so sorry.”

Her long fingers swish away the statement like it’s no big deal. “We’re used to disappointing our elders. Nothing new. My mother knew how brutal it was going to be for me once the truth came out. Well, it is always brutal for time eaters.”

“...time eaters.”

She stops and smiles at you, and once again you are caught in the literal stars inside her eyes. How is she real? How is any of this real?

“Yes. We travel through multiple timelines for what all we lack. Food, home, peace.” Her pace slows a little, making you wonder whether it’s for you to catch up to her or for something that she remembers. “This time it was for life itself.”

Life itself. How easy it all sounds. Your most disastrous days. Most overwhelmingly beautiful too. And with every passing second- if there even is a concept of time in this place- a sombre layer of one morbid thought settles in. She notices it too. The slight furrow of your brows. That tuck of your lower lip under your teeth, trying to do away with the perfect skin, wanting to tear where it could easily come out and then gnaw at it for some more- looking for the weak points again and again while your eyes do not seem to focus at anything in particular, your gait becoming somewhat not straight, sometimes stepping sideways when your legs seem to not want to balance on a straight path. It was all there. She can see all of it.

“What is it?” she finally asks. Gods! You still not used to that voice.

“No, I just- it got me thinking that you are so powerful and-” you raise your hands to gesture at her magnificence- “not to mention majestic. You could have easily killed me. Killed us all. But you hid inside me. Why didn’t you?”

She stops, tilting her head up and forwards just a little. “We’re here,” her voice declares, making you turn in the direction she is looking in.

And before you can stop it from happening, your jaw drops at the sight of the galaxies and their cluster of vibrant clouds all spread in front of you like performers of a show just for you. Your eyes take in every detail, turning moist at this unforgettable sight.

“Oh, but why would I kill the very reason I was born to make, Y/N? Why would I kill the reason my home abandoned me? Why would I kill the person I was meant to fall in love with?”

Suddenly it’s easy to look away from the galactic splendour.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Inter-species intimacy was always frowned upon. The penalty being death for both. Both bloodlines. My mother had seen my future at birth. She knew what I brought. But she wanted me to live and love. And I hated her for this every moment of my existence. Till she made me see my future.”

You do not shift where you sit, looking at her figure cocooning itself by drawing her legs closer to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, engulfing herself for protection.

“What did you see?”

“Death. Destruction. War. All that we were. All that we will be. All of it always stopping at you. Never going beyond you.”

All you can do is gulp down the elegance with which she describes your presence in her life. What else can you possibly do? You are the reason she is the last of her species. You want to apologise. But she goes ahead and speaks first.

“My mother knew it would change me. Showing me my future. And she was ready for it.”

She raises her hand and an ellipse tears through the space to show her and an equally beautiful and elegant but older version of her standing by her side. Her mother.

What would you do, if I told you about your fate? Her mother asked.

If I told you that the rivers of dimension flowed in a specific manner just so you could be born, would you believe me? Or would it be better to say that your obscure but ordinary self was created to cross paths with certain people during your lifetime; that you were made to do the inevitable of tormenting souls as you ached to nurture yours, waning in the hopes of finding love; that you did find solace in arms of a soul you least expected it from.

What if I told you that you were never destined to meet a man- a man out of time, fighting for what was right, saving the world and wanting to sacrifice himself for the greater good- but you put yourself in his path and saved his life?

What if I told you that in doing so, you drove your world to destruction?

Would you still do it?

You can see her look at her mother with the very stars, this time with moisture running down.

Without question. She answers. Her mother takes her face in her palm and plants a kiss on her forehead before turning to dust and flying away into the emptiness.

You do not realise when the tears leave your eyes. Or when they were formed, for that matter.

“I knew from the second I saw you that you were suffering. And that you were going to die,” she states, her voice running a little coarse, her head still low, “and without thinking I made you my host to burn away the sickness. I know it wasn’t my place but I could not bear to see you die.”

You wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. “Oh, sweetheart-”

“I know,” she interjects with the warmest smile you have seen on her, “I know you like him. You love him.”

The stars in her eyes change a hue to a bit jaded vibration. You take her hand in yours, sitting there for a few moments just like this. In peace, looking at the universe in front of you two.

“I wish we’d met in the right timeline,” you finally whisper to her, your head resting on her arm, “so I could know what it would be like to fall in love you.”

You feel her fingers grip you in affirmation. “I wish the same, my saviour.”

You sigh, not getting tired of this view. “So, what now?”

Her thumb rubs at the back of your hand, caressing you till it has etched the tiniest groove in its memory. “I have never seen my future beyond this point.”

“...oh.”

“But that won’t stop me from making things right.”

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sleepyfan-blog · 5 years

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Hug prompt 14 with vantablack? I love how you write!!!! ^^

Ink grins a little, a feeling of mischief washing over him as he sneaks up on his boyfriend - the other was talking to an Asgore and a Toriel - frightening them if their close huddling together and tight-handholding wasn’t enough of a give away, the way that the Toriel gripped the red trident was certainly telling. It was time to relieve the tension a little… And if he could catch his boyfriend off-guard, so much the better? He chuckled a little as he ran (instead of teleporting, as the magic might startle the three of them into an attack) at Nightmare, calling out happily “Niiiiiiightmaare~!”

“I, Ink wai-” Nightmare tried to warn him, shifting quickly, his eye light shrinking a little as he instinctively caught his dumb boyfriend with a couple of his tentacles, pulling the other in close.

Ink stopped him from speaking by happily kissing the other on the lips, humming a little and nuzzling into his touch “I missed you! You’ve been gone for sooo long and I was really bored and wanted to see who you were trying to terrorize into submission.”

Nightmare sighed, rubbing his face with one of his hands “I see. And then you decided to attempt to tackle me, despite the fact that I was clearly speaking to the leaders of the underground of this timeline.”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to wait for a hug! And you were being a huge grump and about to get yourself attacked again so I figured I’d come and help.” The smaller skeleton responded, an unrepentant grin on his face. “And as entertaining as it is to watch you fight multiple opponents… Some of the others might fuss about you getting into a fight without inviting them to have fun too.”

The lord of darkness huffed and rolled his eye light a little “I doubt that they would have been so foolish as to attempt to attack me. Not only their lives would have been fo-”

Ink kissed him before gently poking his forehead “There you go again, being all doom and gloom. Lighten up just a bit. Honey, not vinegar.”

Nightmare sighed a little bit and responded, wryly amused “Dark and intimidating is kind of my thing, Ink. You’re one of a very small group of people who aren’t intimidated by me.”

The creative guardian huffs a little bit and nuzzled into Nightmare, entirely enjoying being close to his beloved “Fiiiine. Be scary and growly. I’m going to find my friends and we’re going to be off on adventures~! Catch us if you can.” With that Ink let the fallen guardian go and teleported off, a carefree laugh on his lips.

#my writing #ink #nightmare #vantablack #inkmare

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ask-vantablack · 4 years

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Romance Headcanons

Name: Vantablack

Nicknames: Vanta, Vants

Gender: Genderfluid

Romantic Orientation: Bisexual

Preferred Pet Names: No preference.

Relationship Status: Single/Taken (Depends on timeline)

Favorite Canon / Fandom Ship: Khari x Vanta, Frank x Vanta

Favorite Crossover Ship: N/A

Opinion On True Love: They don’t care to differentiate the difference between “love” and “true love”. To them all love is a waste of time that leaves people open and vulnerable for people like them to get in and ruin their lives.

Opinion On Love At First Sight: Absolutely not. As it is they already see love and romance as a weakness inherit in humans, so love at first sight is quite possibly the greatest weakness that can be exploited. They don’t believe in it, and for those that do they keep it as a mental note to possibly take advantage of later on in one way or another.

How ‘Romantic’ Are They?: They try their best. They’re not exactly the best at conveying their true emotions, and they’re already known for masking how they truly feel beneath layers of lies and deceit, so any attempts at genuine romantic gestures might often appear hamfisted or awkward. Just know they’re trying.

Ideal Physical Traits: No preference, though they do have a particular affiliation for the big, monsterous, twisted, and otherwise inhuman.

Ideal Personality Traits: Assertiveness, inner strength; they like someone that makes their presence known and sticks out from a group, someone that catches their eye in one way or another.

Unattractive Physical Traits: Excessive youth; they’re put off by those that appear excessively young due to both their limited exposure to others within The Fog being mostly adults and elders (making it so people from younger demographics just look rather wrong to them in comparison) and also because of certain memories they took from Quentin. Otherwise, none particularly come to mind.

Ideal Date: Really they don’t care. Just spending time and doing things with them makes them happy. Take them out to a museum, an art gallery, take them out to the theater, or just stay in and watch shitty movies with them over junk food, either way they’ll enjoy themself.

Average Relationship Length: N/A; they’re not usually ones to get involved in relationships so about as long as it takes for their partners to get tired of them (in their own words).

Preferred Non-Sexual Intimacy: Just... relaxing. Laying back against their partner‘s chest and enjoying their warmth and energy. Give them a little scratch on their head or a kiss on the back of their neck and they’ll be practically melting at your touch.

Commitment Level: Dating. They’ll never go past that, as it’s already a stretch for them as is.

Opinion On Public Affection: With platonic relationships they don’t particularly mind, but the minute you get past platonic into romantic territory they start to become uncomfortable with it. They don’t like the idea of having something they care about being broadcast to the public; they don’t want something they genuinely care about to be taken away or potentially being used against them.

Past Relationships?: N/A

Tagged by: @fierceathlete

Tagging: @nervousleaderr @mnstrss (any muse(s)), @ask-the-maniac, and anyone else interested!

#𝖂𝖍𝖔 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚; Musings

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abundantchewtoys · 5 years

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HS Epi: Meat, p8 reaction

It doesn't FEEL like it could already be time for the Masterpiece, but then, what else is there? Until now we've been switching back and forth between Earth C & John. Unless we now go see what post-retcon Terezi has been up to, I guess it might be time to witness the penultimate moment of Caliborn's ascension to Lord English, the last moment being when LE hatches from Doc Scratch.

---

"> JOHN: Zap to your final destination.

Where the hell are you?

DAVE: where the hell are we DAVE: i cant see shit"

Welp it's time for this?? ... Unless John misfired and they're in the Furthest Ring, I'd think that they'd find Caliborn in his station on LOCAM. ... I don't suppose there's going to be an actual stage like in the Vine videos. :P If that were so, it appears someone killed the lights, though.

Maybe something prevents them from actually going to Caliborn, like they're missing a crucial artifact and they wouldn't be able to escape from LOCAM with John's powers to return to the same moment with another retcon. We know the juju almost instantaneously can absorb them. ... It'd be something if the events of the Masterpiece somehow preordained them into doing something first.

"JADE: shhh!

It’s dark. Not like “someone turned out the lights out” dark. More like “someone destroyed the concept of light at its very source” dark." I suppose that, in Caliborn's art, it would be "vantablack" dark due to the absence of a light source he never bothered to draw, but I doubt they just zapped into one of his scribbles he made after John beat him up.

Also, it's a good Light wasn't capitalized in that description. Though, to think about it, Void would look enormously black, wouldn't it? ... Did John zap them into the Void somehow??? It IS the place where Caliborn's soul was stuck for a very long time, after all, but that is after the Masterpiece took place.

"It’s a darkness that fills up your skull. Jake puts this more eloquently, as always:

JAKE: By golly it is indeed dark as fuck." A+ observation, Jake.

"ROXY: shoosh!!!" That makes two of the girls shooshing them. ... For a minute there I thought they recognized this void, until I remembered it was Game Over Roxy and post-retcon Jade that ended up meeting Calliope's ghost.

"Jade breaks off from the group. She moves through the air gracefully, ears twitching as she sniffs through space like a bloodhound. “There!” she exclaims, and points down. All the way down." Being a bit destracted by unformatted sentences uttered by one of the main characters, I'll be honest. But yeah, I suppose the Space and Void player are most qualified to navigate this... realm. Caliborn's version of the Veil, maybe? Since it would appear they're not alone here, after all.

"All the way down beneath you there is a light source. Gray, focused—like a spotlight, except that it’s folded over the curvature of the space beneath it. At the center of it stands teenage Lord English, all decked out in his ostentatious god tier jammies." ... Ah. Not a stage in the literal sense, but Caliborn did prepare a grand scene for this faceoff, in that he literally prepared the shittiest scene imagineable: none at all.

"Gamzee’s there too, for some unfathomably stupid reason. There’s a robot bunny chilling out on top of a chest, lookin’ cool and kicking its cute little bunny legs back and forth." Welp, that sure are the beings present for the Masterpiece. That was the chest Caliborn kept the juju in, hoh boy.

"You hope that neither of these unexpected dramatis personae will play a role in the coming battle, because it wouldn’t feel right whaling on either of them at this point." Of course they're going to stay irrelevant, what are you saying? :B

"Lord English is holding something that looks like... Lil Cal? It’s definitely Lil Cal" So, uh, John recognizes the puppet then? ... Well, granted, he did see baby Dirk/Bro with it on the meteor, and during the ten years since someone must've described the thing to him at one point.

", and Lord English is definitely waltzing around with it in his little spotlight in the middle of the nowhere, swinging the puppet around by both its floppy arms. Well, rather, he was waltzing around. He stopped the moment you looked at him." ... Pffff he wasn't even expecting them right then? He was just playing pretend with Cal for who knows how long.

"> Behold your adversary.

JOHN: ... CALIBORN: ..." No. No, we're not doing this again, are we? The epic frown off.

"JOHN: ... CALIBORN: ... JOHN: ... CALIBORN: ... JOHN: ... CALIBORN: ... JOHN: ... CALIBORN: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

What. The fuck. ... Does... Does Caliborn not recognize John because he's an adult???? Or... I mean... Timelines... Okay, yeah, Blaperile reminded me about something.

Caliborn in the Masterpiece didn't seem to recognize John. So. That could mean that. This. Is. Pre-retcon Caliborn.

Fucking Hells. Even if they get sucked into the juju...

That means. Lord English is pre-retcon Caliborn. But post-retcon Caliborn might be a seperate entity. That means he's an unknown quantifier, but that would mean Paradox Space is seriously screwed, right? A Caliborn not destined to become Lord English would be free to do whatever he pleased with his Lord of Time powers, and then all bets are off. Even if his pre-retcon self became the bane of endless universes, he was still limited, sanctioned by Paradox Space.

FYI, with pre-retcon & post-retcon, here I meant that I think that, this Caliborn never had John zapping into his room. But, now that I think about it some more... He would still have recognized John and the others from the consoles. (Hmm, unless the consoles only showed Caliborn images from B2, but I didn't think that was the case.) Meanwhile, I don't think the ghost of the Caliborn that Alternate Calliope 'ate' would be dressed in god tier jammies and be chilling with Lil' Seb and Gamzee...

"You simply refuse to answer his question. Instead, you do something so much better. Something that will make both his inevitable fate and your regard for his character incontrovertibly clear." Is it a punch in the face? Tell me it's a punch in the face. If this Caliborn turns out to be blameless in the rise of Lord English, the second hand embarassment will be palpable.

"> Give him a thumbs-down." Ah. Beatdown, imminent. :P

"Lord English drops the puppet. For a moment he looks shocked, maybe even a little afraid, but it passes quickly. He starts laughing." Wow, okay. I didn't think I was ready to consider liking the idea of a version of Caliborn that is more jerk-with-low-self-esteem, but, here I'm getting there.

"JOHN: uh. CALIBORN: NEVERMIND. I KNOW WHO YOU ARE." ... Oh, then scratch everything I just said. :P Guess the dorky theatrics finally gave it away, huh? Well, granted, Caliborn is a self-professed slow learner and been shown to be slow in the uptake in some regards.

"CALIBORN: IT WAS FORETOLD. BY THE MASTERPIECE I MADE. WHEN I WAS BUT A BOY." With Caliborn, it's never clear if he's just boasting or being sincere. It might be that 7 years passed for him in his session too, but if he had been 13 at the time he could be 20. Then again, if he was 11... He'd still count as a teenager.

"JOHN: what? CALIBORN: BE QUIET. CALIBORN: I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT YOU JUST INTERRUPTED A GROUNDBREAKING INTERPRETIVE ART PIECE. CALIBORN: IT WAS THE FIRST OF ITS KIND. PERFORMED ONLY ONCE. AND MADE MORE VALUABLE FOR ITS RARENESS. JOHN: wow. CALIBORN: I SAID SHUT UP. IT’S RUDE TO TALK THROUGH THE OVERTURE. CALIBORN: BUT DON’T WORRY. ALTHOUGH YOU MISSED MY VERY IMPORTANT DANCE DEMONSTRATION." ... Interpretive dance. His wickedness really knows no bounds!!! :mspa:

"CALIBORN: NOW YOU WILL PARTICIPATE IN SOMETHING EVEN MORE IMPORTANT." Welp. Caliborn has Fate on his side in this one. He knows what's coming! Guess we're left to see how straightforward everything will unfold now.

"The young Lord’s face begins to distort. The unhinging of his jaw reverberates in the empty space. He laughs through the remainder of his nefarious soliloquy, which he has possibly prepared in advance for this moment." I was thinking he'd start shooting lasers, but it would appear the rest of his 'soliloquy' may consist solely out of "HA. HA. HA." repeated ad nauseum.

"CALIBORN: BY NOW, SURELY MANY HAVE WITNESSED MY MASTERPIECE. CALIBORN: AS IT HAS CIRCULATED THROUGH THE BLACK VEINS. OF THE DARK WEB. CALIBORN: TRILLIONS HAVE WITNESSED ITS MAJESTY. HATERS AND FOOLS ALIKE." That might be a LITTLE bit overestimating it. :P Unless, of course, he's talking about all of the ghosts in the dreambubbles, rebubbling the memory ad infinitum. I'm reminded of Gamzee's rap, though, about the trillions being bled.

"CALIBORN: BUT NOW. THE TIME HAS COME. CALIBORN: FOR EVERYONE TO SHUT UP ABOUT HOW GREAT MY MASTERPIECE WAS. CALIBORN: AND THE TIME IS NOW AT HAND..." To see the truth or lack thereof in the masterpiece.

"CALIBORN: FOR YOU ALL TO *BECOME* MY MASTERPIECE!" ... Wow. Epic.

Okay, that was delivered perfectly.

If we weren't in the epilogues, I'd have expected an [S] page next.

Gotta say, for knowing how this will go in broad strokes, I'm glad at getting the finer details filled in.

So, Caliborn seemed to imply in his Masterpiece Jade still had her First Guardian powers. Guess this scene still takes place in the Green Sun's gaze then. I hope I'm forgiven for being confused. Post-canon takes place outside of it, but Caliborn's session was spawned in Universe C. So at some point, he fell back into the Green Sun's domain somehow. Maybe simply by Entering his session. He thusly entered canon, and gained quite a bit of relevance to Paradox Space.

"A young Lord stands on his stage. It just so happens that today, the thirteenth of April, 11111111111, is this boy's wriggling day. Though it was 18 sweeps ago he was given life, it is only today he will obtain ultimate power.

What will this young Lord do?"

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #upd8 #reaction #spoiler alert #caliborn

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coreink002 · 5 years

Text

My Star head canons!

So these are just some random fun facts about my stars, which set them apart from the originals!

Ink is an artificial intelligence

Nightmare lost her left eye to a fight with Error

Cross’s real name is Jakie

Vantablack can move at bursts of 60mph

Killer is blind, since she tore out her own eyes.

Technically speaking, Horror is a zombie.

Geno stays in the marble ruins (which is a place in my dreams)

Lotus is infertile.

Ink is colorblind.

Vanta, without a host, can survive on sugar water.

The original Dream was killed by humans,

Dusk, Omega, and Vantablack are all cold blooded

Chernobyl lives in a separate timeline from other stars.

Pixel is the youngest shatter sister, but Sectin is the most childish.

Please send asks and requests! ^w^

#oc #Ink #Nightmare #Cross #Vantablack #Killer #Horror #Geno #Lotus #Dream #Dusk #Omega #Chernobyl #Pixel #sectin

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years

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Guardian Angel N°12 [Shock of realities]

This is chapter twelve !

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

Have a good read!

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

Error didn't understand and didn't try to understand, he didn't need to. He knew the principle of UA and timeline, and although seeing another Ink in his world was strange, it didn't destabilize him any more than that. For it was definitely not his painter who was facing him, his eyes veiled by hatred and rage, with a pungent smell of metal and dust.

"What the hell is this delirium? "he ventured, letting his gaze run over the devastated living room, the overturned table, the disemboweled sofa, the cracked floor and walls.

He had no trouble seeing Nyx on the floor. Nyx slowly raised his head to look up, to observe him with a relief that Error never thought he'd see in anyone. At least not in himself.

The cartoonist was most banged up, not to mention Insomnia sobbing in his arms. Insomnia that he had probably tried to protect at the risk of his life, which explained his state of great weakness.

Error sigh, looked back at the falsified Ink:

“Well, one more to erase.”

But his opponent, whom he had imprisoned in his sons, did not seem afraid. Rather... stunned. Shocked. Devastated.

“Ruru... ?” Squealed softly at the Ink.

And Error flinched, suddenly in doubt. His opponent was clearly not HIS Ink, he knew that by his failing magic, as if corrupted. But ... the way he looked at him, the way he spoke to him ... it looked very much like ... his Ink. His soulmate.

A bone flew in his direction and he dodged it only with his wily reflexes. Forbidden, the Destroyer retreated when he saw his sons shattered before his opponent threw himself on him to punch him in the face.

Error dodged even harder, caught short by the speed of the other skeleton. Fuck, was it like a mess? Who the hell was that guy? I can't believe he told his own Ink "There's a strange magic in DreamTale. Look after PaperJam, I'll take care of it", when his lover would have been very useful right now!

He scolded, teleported himself behind his adversary and tried a new capture, but this Ink seemed to know him by heart since he dodged all his attempts before suddenly finding himself against him, forehead against forehead, pupils in pupils ...

The voice of the painter resounded soberly, in a laugh of madness:

“I killed you once ... I can do it again!”

Error grimaced, hardly wiping a blow to his legs. He did manage to move back, but his cheek was grazed, which almost made him glitch. This Ink was much more mischievous than his, but more importantly ... no, not powerful. It was something else.

He petrified on contact with a viscous liquid. A familiar but terrifying liquid, which had grabbed his arms from behind. Confused, he glanced behind him to see an ink puddle on the ground from which ...

“Wh-... tentacles?” he hiccupped without believing it.

Ink took the opportunity to hit him again, making him hiccup again, while a sinister crack from his arms made him bend suddenly, tearing a cry of pain from under his slowly breaking bones.

Panting, he tried to free himself ... but petrified. Petrified when the mouth of his opponent came to take possession of his own, to devour him, dominate him, subject him to his will. He became livid, his body frozen with terror, while he felt a tongue get between his teeth and come to play sneeringly with his own.

This unknown Ink didn't care about him, only wanted to humiliate him.

And a few meters away from them, with a pale face, Nyx was watching them. He observed them with a shock too great. Shock to see his father kissing Error. To force Error to kiss him, to subdue him in such a way.

Error, who, in this timeline, hated Nyx. But the cartoonist only remembered the Error in HIS timeline. The Error who had saved him from the clutches of his parents, the Error who had taken him in, the Error who had raised him and whom he had come to see as an adoptive father.

[Nyx lost control]

[The rage overwhelmed him]

Error opened his eyes to the sudden wave of negativity, certainly much weaker than Nightmare's, but still surprising. And his surprise was even greater when he perceived, from the corner of his eye, Nyx's pupils that had turned deep red, while tentacles suddenly materialized from shadows to whip the air furiously.

Ink released Error sharply to cast a hesitant glance at Nyx, visibly feverish to face the rage of the youngest.

But the cartoonist didn't have to intervene... Because the Ink of this timeline did it perfectly well.

A bluish paint sprinkled on the 'bad' Ink, who opened his eyes and moved backwards before shouting in rage when the paint changed into a chain, a chain that immobilized him at once. Mad with anger he looked up at the 'good' Ink. The 'good' Ink who had just come out of a portal and who, with a powerful brushstroke, freed Error from the claws of the tentacles.

The confusion was only greater when the two Ink looked into each other's eyes.

“Another me?” wondered the past Ink while holding the Destroyer against him in a protective gesture.

Faced with the proximity of the two skeletons, Nyx's father yelped, foaming with rage, and felt trembling on all sides. How was it that his past self was so close to ...

He petrified.... To turn a murderous glance at Nyx:

“That's what I thought... Y.o.u. h.a.v.e c.h.a.n.g.e.d. t.h.e. s.t.o.r.y.”

Nyx lost his tentacles as his pupils turned blue, he backed away abruptly, intimidated and frightened in front of his progenitor, while pressing Insomnia against him again.

“I-it was the right thing to do, he replied.

- The best thing...? Ugh, Dream and Error have really messed with your head! The best thing you say? No, no no ! Nyx, haven't we taught you nothing? Didn't Nightmare mean to make you his worthy successor?”

Nyx felt the tension pressing down on his body, his legs trembling and failing to pull away, while his father was gradually displaying a crazy grin:

“You should have killed us.”

The cartoonist lost his pupils, his hands clasped on the baby, while the skeletons of the past listened to the conversation without understanding the meaning.

Nyx's father sneered suddenly:

“You were born to kill.”

A tentacle of ink broke his chains, and the Ink of the future disappeared in a sudden teleportation, abandoning his opponents in total confusion.

Nyx's heart was heavy. His body finally let go and he fell to his knees on the ground. To tell the truth, it was even a miracle that he didn't burst into tears in the moment. Probably he was too shaken to know exactly how to react.

But the words of his father assaulted him, bit him, scratched him, dragged him into a trance, a second state that disconnected him from reality without him being able to do anything about it, as if his spirit was sliding furiously down a slope too steep to make him sink to the bottom, drowning him in a flood of memories, remorse, regret.

[You were born to kill.]

Killing physically and mentally. It was by design. He had killed the happiness, the hope of his parents. He had caused Plum's death. He had also caused the death of Error. He had caused the deaths of so many people, willingly or unwillingly. You'd think he was only good for that...

No, that's exactly what it was.

He was only good at killing everything he came near. Killing... often without mercy.

“Nyx!”

He was startled, brought back to reality by Ink who had grabbed him by the shoulders and was shaking him gently with great concern.

“Nyx, can you hear me?”

For a brief moment, the cartoonist thought it was his father. But this thought was soon swept away: his progenitor had never called him so kindly, so anxiously.

However, if Nyx wanted to answer, he interrupted himself, sensing that his arms contained nothing more, closing in on a void. He became pale, his pupils taking the form of two exclamation marks in spite of himself as panic gripped his being:

“Insomnia?! Where is he now?”

The Creator was startled, not expecting such a strong reaction. Not to mention his astonishment at seeing his pupils change shape. But he tried to keep a cool head and respond appropriately to Nyx:

“He, uh... He's with Killer.”

Nyx blinked: with ... Killer?

Ink turned his head and pointed to another part of the living room. The Draftsman looked around and ran out of bugs, lost. Killer was indeed there, holding Insomnia against him and watching him from every angle, checking that he had nothing. At his side stood Nightmare, who was also examining his son, before turning to Nyx.

"Are you finally coming to your senses? "he grunted as he approached.

The black-boned one didn't understand. He just... He'd been gone that long? A moment of absence that had prevented him from perceiving the return of the couple? Sometimes his mind was somewhere else, yes, but that long?

[Was it... because of the lack of apples?]

He shook his head, chasing away the thought as he stood trembling, helped by Ink who gently supported him.

“... I...I have to go.” he blew.

He had to go back to the gate. He had to find out if his father had told him the truth. He was... He had to close the fucking portal once and for all, before things got any worse!

But as he dodged a move to get away, a tentacle grabbed his arm, petrified him.

Nightmare's voice growled, dangerous:

“You're not going anywhere. Not without an explanation.”

Nyx swallowed, tensed up a little more when Error also intervened, arms folded, leaning against the back of the sofa:

"Yeah. You owe us an explanation. How come you know another Ink? That he talked about 'making a difference'? And more importantly... How come your pupils change like that, and you have tentacles? »

Pushed from all sides, Nyx feverishly sought help from others. But both Ink and Killer were waiting for answers. It was at this moment that the cartoonist also noticed the return of the bad Sans, except that they were standing much further back. But Horror, Dust and Cross hadn't planned to help him either, looking at him from the frowned arches, even though the cannibal seemed the most worried of all.

Nyx blew, realizing that he wouldn't get anyone's support. Not until he revealed nothing.

He gave up the idea of running away, to face Nightmare and Error:

“I guess it doesn't take a genius to figure out I'm from another timeline, right?”

No need to be a genius, certainly ... yet this information caused a sudden surprise to others, especially Nightmare and Ink.

But especially Nightmare, who imperceptibly clenched his fists:

“... What do you mean by that?” he grunted.

Nyx gently disengaged from the grip of the appendix, then took a breath and resumed his impenetrable face, before making a slight curtsy to the assembly:

“Let's take it from the top. My name is Nyx, I am a traveler. A time traveler.”

He looked at Ink:

"That's why you couldn't find any trace of me in the AUs. Simply because I'm not even from that multiverse. I come from an apocalyptic future where the multiverse has fallen into ruin, and I've been given a mission to go back to the past to change history, to prevent the fall of this world. »

He raised his hand to stop all questions:

“I'd rather not reveal more, for fear the timeline will be too shaky.”

Nightmare laughed:

“If you've made a difference, the timeline must already be a monster mess. So instead of making stupid excuses, tell me .... Is Ink the problem?”

Ink tensed up as he remembered his double, which had seemed quite terrifying to him with his aura and intimidating gaze.

Nyx hesitated:

“.... Not ... not only.”

Error growled bitterly:

“This Ink had tentacles.”

The Nightmare Keeper froze himself by understanding:

“So I'm the problem in the future? I'm the one who was made to sink Ink, and the multiverse?”

Nyx had a slight, very slight recoil. But that's enough for the master of bad emotions to understand.

[Understand that Nyx was playing him for a fool]

For the past few months, Nightmare had been plunged into doubt, hoping to be wrong, thinking that his powers had only weakened in the face of his softening and his family life. But the time had come when he had to face reality, when doubt was no longer allowed.

“You hide your feelings of your own free will.” he said to Nyx, who trembled.

He thought he'd found a friend, someone who understood him, trusted him...

“You're afraid of me.” he said, feverishly, receiving like a stab in the soul.

[No !]

Nyx would have liked to disapprove.

[No, it's not that, you don't understand!]

He remained mute, unable to defend himself. Because deep down, even if he had explained the real reason, would Nightmare have believed him? He wasn't sure. And deep down... Deep down... ...Nightmare was probably right. In Nyx still resided the fear, the terror of being locked up, tortured, confronted with his worst nightmares.

He simply looked down, confirming what Nightmare was already thinking. Confirming that Nyx had always feared him as much as anyone else.

“...I see.” he pessimised, turning away from the cartoonist.

Being unable to smile, the body relaxed, an immense emptiness in the chest while a flood of insults crosses our minds. So that was the disappointment? That bitter feeling of being betrayed? To see our expectations, our ideals flouted? To feel like a fool from the start? Offended, humiliated, what else should he have felt? Anger?

Oh, the anger was there, deep inside him, striking a slight spike in his Being while the guilt did the same. Guilt for being angry at others when others had done nothing, at least not with the wrong kind of care. But that it was painful to feel such a thing... to feel as if you had been manipulated, deceived, by someone you valued.

Nyx, seeing the nightmare master turn away from him, knew he had screwed up again. His gaze slipped on the rest of the ruined living room, on Insomnia who seemed quite feverish in Killer's arms, on the bad guys without whom were exchanging worried murmurs .... Then on Error, wounded, who was not completely recovered from his previous fight, while Ink was standing next to him without knowing how he should act.

Nyx knew he was responsible for all this. From the beginning, the very beginning, he was the problem. He, the mistake, the one who should never have existed. His life had been a continual series of problems caused by his birth, and now another timeline was threatened by his fault, another complete multiverse.

He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't allow this world to be destroyed.

“I'm going to fix everything.”

He left no time for others to hold him back, disappearing in a gust of wind through a portal as Ink tried to catch up with him. But too late, the portal had closed without leaving a shred of magic behind, as if Nyx had made sure no one followed him.

A leaden silence fell, terrible and oppressive, letting a peculiar bitterness take hold of the assembly ....

Until Nightmare froze. Let him look at Error, his eyes wide open, finally becoming aware of the words the Destroyer had spoken earlier:

“Nyx had tentacles?!”

A much more powerful apprehension had just caught him by the throat.

===

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Dreamtale -> Joku

Dust -> Ask DustTale

Error -> LoverOfPiggies

Ink -> Myebi

Killer -> Rahafwabas

Cross and Lux -> Jakei

Insomnia -> EnaPouyou

#Guardian Angel #undertale #fanfic #errink #nightkiller #inkmare #vantablack #shipchild #alternate timeline #insomnia #nyx #nightmare #bad sanses #ink #error #killer

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years

Photo

Hi! I had fun doodling Nyx!

#nyx #undertale #inkmare #shipchild #vantablack #ink #nightmare #drawing #alternate universe #alternate timeline

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel N°13 [Nyx]

Hello, this is chapter thirteen! The drawing is mine, please don't take it!

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

Have a good read!

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

[He was born to kill.]

It wasn't a lie, or a depression, or just a quick remark made in haste. It was simply a statement of fact. A statement about what his life had been like, both before and after he was born.

He was born to kill. He had been raised to kill. And Nyx often retained a bitter laugh when he saw the people around him looking at him with pity, looking at him as a poor little thing who had been given no choice.

Plum had also looked at him for a long time like that. Plum was like all those unconscious people who looked at him and said, "The poor child, tortured by his parents, locked up in the dungeons, forced to do things he doesn't want to do!"

That was a lot of misunderstanding about Nyx.

Because Nyx wasn't an idiot. Nyx knew he had a choice.

And his choice naturally went in favor of his parents. His parents, whom he wanted to make proud and protect, no matter what.

“Nyx, are you listening?”

Nightmare's voice was deep, intimidating. Enough for his son to fold before him, lower his eyes to the ground:

“Yes, father. I'm all ears.”

The master of misfortune left his throne, his tentacles waving nervously, contrasting with the inexpressive face of their host:

“I don't care what happens to the other colored bastard. But he'd better not be in my way when I'm facing Killer.

- I understand, father. I'll take care of it.”

Nyx squealed, however, when an appendage grabbed it by the throat, to better press it against the wall on its back. Nightmare came closer, almost sticking his face close to him, the pupil crackling with a dangerous, devastating glow:

“Don't disappoint me.”

He released his son and left the room. The young skeleton fell to the ground, grimacing slightly, and massaged his throat.

He could have run away. His magic was unimpeded, he could teleport himself safely out of the castle, see his pencil retrieved and open a portal to another AU. He could do it easily, just as he knew he could hide from everyone, even his parents.

A spell to camouflage his magic. A spell to camouflage his emotions. A spell to teleport him.

He had everything he needed to escape, to get away from here.

But he chose to stay.

[He'd always had a choice.]

*** ***

Color threw himself into a frantic race, too exhausted to use his magic. He succumbed to despair, despite all his fervor and courage... He succumbed, exhausted and terrified, as he watched in the distance as his beloved Killer tried to defend himself against Nightmare.

“Killer!”

He tried to call, to show his soul mate that he was there for him, but his voice was too weak, much too weak.

And tentacles pinned him to the ground.

He hiccupped, a grimace of pain escaping him as he felt his bones cracking all over the place.

“You're the one who caused Father so much trouble...?” Nyx questioned him as he quietly joined him, looking intrigued.

Color coughed, felt the pungent taste of blood fill his puck without being able to retain a reply:

“Haven't you had enough brats?! I have to save Killer! Let go of me!

- I can't grant your request, father is counting on me.

- He's using you! He doesn't see you as a son, but as a tool! Open your eyes!”

The appendages tightened him a little more, aggravating the already large cracks, while Nyx's pupils took on a slight golden glow, as if he had been amused by Color's words. Color, trembling with rage, tried to struggle:

“You don't have to follow Nightmare! You have a choice! You don't have to stoop to this guy's whims just because he's your father!

- ... whim?”

Nyx's tone had changed, as had his pupils, which were slowly turning red:

“I think you're a hypocrite, you who begged Killer to come with you, pretending to love you tenderly.

- Because I love him ! I take care of him!

- But you knew the consequences. You knew it would destroy Nightmare. You knew he'd want revenge. But I guess hurting him was a fabulous bonus. Everybody wants to hurt the nightmare master.

- Because he's a vile being!”

The grip tightened more violently, wrenching a terrible howl from Color who was pushing back his tears as hard as he could.

Nyx's voice was darker:

“It's because everyone else does what you do that my father became like you. It's because of you that he sank. It is because of you that he is unhappy.”

A stream of magic concentrated over Nyx, finally materializing a deep black Gaster Blaster.

Color's soul missed a beat.

Nyx rumbled coldly:

“I have made my choice.”

The blaster charged into a morbid crackle:

“I'm going to make him happy. I'll make both my parents happy.”

Color petrified and broke out in a cold sweat. His wide-eyed eyes moved sharply towards Killer out of instinct, as if to call for help or simply to capture one last time the image of his lover. And frightened, he saw Killer on the ground, about to be finished off by Nightmare.

He hadn't been able to save his lover. This realization finally broke him, tearing bitter tears from his cheeks, which rolled down on his cheeks, before blending into the cloud of dust that became his body when the energy beam pulverized him.

The explosion was harsh, the earth trembled. And Nyx, imperturbable, put his scarf back on properly.

He had made up his mind.

His parents came first. Before everything else.

*** ***

The portal was similar to the last time: a worrying, bluish vortex that hinted at another world, a dark and dangerous future.

Nyx hated this vision.

He had fought to change the course of things, and now he learned that his timeline still existed?

But he should have known better. If his timeline had been erased, he himself would have disappeared, wouldn't he? To tell the truth, he didn't know anything about it, he didn't have enough knowledge to prove anything.

All he knew was that the two timelines shouldn't mix any more. Otherwise his parents would destroy everything he had forced himself to do for them.

...even though... did it still make sense? Making a difference had to help his family. But he'd changed things for another timeline, not his own.

He hadn't fixed anything.

“Damn... (sighs)”

He gritted his teeth, feeling his fences crack again as he approached the gate. If his efforts were useless, what was he to do? How was he supposed to act?

Dream, Error, Cross... they had counted on him. They trusted him.

But they were wrong from the beginning. They were the ones who misled him.

“SHIT!”

A magical flow escaped him, twisted the space around him, made his already feverish body tremble as he did not perceive the slightest change from the portal. The portal that seemed to taunt him with malice, as if to tell him "if you had closed me earlier, you could have lived a sweet life of lies, unaware that your timeline still existed.

He gnashed his teeth, ignoring his soul that had become painful, and made a Gaster Blaster to shoot at the portal. But the ray of magic did nothing, not even a little bit of damage to the wormhole. And if Nyx was tempted to do it again, he was stopped by the sensation of a very familiar magic, an aura that stood behind him and that he would have recognized among a thousand.

He turned pale, his throat dry, and shivered when a hoarse voice rose behind his back:

“Do you really think the gate will close like this?”

A weary, sarcastic voice, broken by the cries, tears, the tumults of life.

Febrile, Nyx turned around gently, his pupils reflecting all his anxiety. As he thought, Nightmare stood there. The Nightmare of his timeline.

“... Hello, Father...”

He watched his progenitor in silence. The emotions were multiple and contradictory: apprehension, fear, joy, relief, shame... So many things the young skeleton would have preferred not to feel.

Sometimes, he would have liked to be devoid of emotion, to tear out his soul like Ink, to become just a vulgar doll unable to feel, and therefore to suffer.

But he was too afraid to do so. Another of his faults: talking a lot, but not acting.

“So you betray me to the end... ?” Nightmare grumbled.

A weary reproach. This Nightmare had gotten used to people turning their backs on him. Nyx knew it, and it gripped his soul with an acidic guilt:

“Father, I ...

- Ink has already told me everything. So you have fun changing a timeline for your own pleasure?

- I-I just wanted to ...”

But a laugh interrupted him, and he shivered at the sight of Nightmare's broad smile. How long had it been since he had smiled?

Nyx swallowed as he approached:

“You are my son! As selfish and manipulative as I am! No matter what your reasons are, laudable or not, you're still a great speaker!”

The drawer did not dare to move, held his breath when his father was a few inches away from him:

“What now, Nyx? Now that you know you've created another timeline without influencing ours? Now that I'm here, now that I've found you? Now that you panic, assailed by doubt? What are you going to do?”

And while he was talking, his tentacles were slipping, wrapping themselves around Nyx's legs, reaching his waist and then his arms.

“Past or future? You want to change things, you're gonna have to erase your past. So take advantage of having me on hand to kill me, closed the portal. Do the job to the end!”

Nyx felt pressure on his body, felt the appendages squeeze harder, hard enough to hurt him without breaking his bones.

“Father, I...”

The physical pain was nothing compared to his mental suffering. He imagined listening to his father, killing him in cold blood, doing the same with Ink. He imagined getting rid of the dust, closing the portal forever, and starting his life over in that timeline.

He imagined doing all this, and a deep headache took him, accompanying the terror that gripped his soul.

His pupils turned blue and he couldn't control it:

“I can't...” he blew, a sob caught in his throat.

Nightmare lost his smile, frowned as he examined his son, trying to read him:

“.... Why? You're happy with our versions of the past, though. Much happier than with us anyway.”

Nyx looked down, on the verge of tears:

“For the same reason I have sacrificed so much so far... because I love you...”

The tentacles suddenly dropped as Nightmare widened his eyes. How can you not be surprised when the son you have tortured for years tells you that he loves you? Especially when, through your fault, said son is filled with negative emotions, addicted to poisoned apples?

Nightmare burst out laughing so much it seemed laughable to him :

“Do you love us? I don't know if that still makes you a worthy heir, but if it allows me to make you obey ...”

He sneered and came and patted Nyx's cheek, just like one would do to a dog:

“So listen to me. You've done a good job on this timeline, it's time to make it all pay off.”

Nyx gave him a confused look, to which Nightmare hastened to reply:

“We're going to get rid of our alters.”

Nyx froze with fright, understanding without difficulty the purpose of this manoeuvre: to eliminate the past versions in order to take their place ... To eliminate the versions with which he had befriended ...

The Ink and the Nightmare of the past. Those who had made the effort to change, to improve themselves, who had built a family life, with whom he had created this 'secret club', those with whom he had drawn or shared meals, those who had given him real attention, who had worried about him, who had housed him, supported him...

Nyx's pupils turned grey.

He nodded slowly.

“I'll do anything for you, Father.”

*** ***

PaperJam nervously triturated the bottom of his shirt, anxious as he watched his parents whisper with concern. The young skeleton, as soon as he had seen his progenitors returned, had understood that something terrible was happening, and he could only apprehend the continuation by seeing Ink close to a nervous breakdown.

Walking away from the kitchen to get out of the house, Jammy took a breath. He had been able to discern Nyx's name in the conversation. It wasn't hard to understand that something had happened to his friend, and the child couldn't accept it.

He loved Nyx very much. The cartoonist was kind and gentle, paid him a lot of attention, but always seemed so sad ... not to mention that crisis he had had the other night, and the way he had thrown himself on the black apple.

And then... he had called Ink "dad".

Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle were coming together in PaperJam's mind, and he wrinkled the arches.

He had to find Nyx. He had to find Nyx right away.

He concentrated his magic, blew... and opened a portal. A proud smile lit up his face : he had been able to use his parents' advice ! Normally he would have bragged about it to them, but right away he couldn't say anything. He suspected that they would not let him go.

He took a new breath, prepared himself for all eventualities, and crossed the gate with a determined step.

[He had to find his big brother]

===

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You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Dreamtale -> Joku

Killer -> Rahafwabas

Color -> Super-Youmna

Paperjam -> 7GoodAngel

#Guardian Angel #undertale #fanfiction #errink #nightkiller #inkmare #nightmare #nyx #killer #color #paperjam #sanscest #vantablack #dreamtale #alternate universe #alternate timeline #shipchild #drawing

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel N°11 [My little brother, you deserve to exist]

I present to you today the chapter eleven of Guardian Angel!

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

Have a good read!

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

Insomnia chirped softly, happy to be surrounded by leaves and pencils on the ground. Nyx had of course taken care to arrange the cushions, as Killer did every time he left his son on the floor, and now watched the child with a gentle gaze, attentive to the slightest of his gestures.

The little one continued to laugh and had fun scribbling on the leaves that fell into his hand. It was fun to watch him change pencils, bend his head to the side as if he was looking for an idea, and then stick out his tongue under the weight of intense reflection.

That baby was just so cute.

Nyx laughed, settling more comfortably in the sofa to watch him. Without really realizing it, his own hands had gotten busy and scribbled a sketch of the child. Drawing was instinctive for him. It came naturally to him to make an artwork, without him really needing to think about it. That's why he didn't like receiving compliments such as "You draw well".

For Nyx did not see beauty in talent, but in effort. Someone who made an effort to draw well, to do something beautiful, was someone who drew well. But someone like him, who didn't care about the end result, couldn't draw 'well', because that same person didn't put any passion into it.

That's why Nyx had always admired Ink. He always gave his all, no matter what the situation was, no matter what his condition was. He tried to do his best, and that was most admirable.

Nyx admired Ink. He loved Ink from the depths of his soul. That innocent love a child has for its parent. For Nyx could never bring himself to hate the painter, even the one in his timeline...

“Gahaaaa !”

Nyx blinked his eyes, leaned his head to the side and saw Insomnia waving at him with a sulky pout:

“Gagaa ! Gaaa !”

He then tapped his can, swelling his cheeks and continuing to shake, and Nyx laughed. He got up and came to find the little one, gently taking him in his arms:

“Are you hungry, little guy? I'll see what I can find.”

Horror was absent, just like the rest of the bad sanses. So Nyx was left to his own devices, but that was not a real concern. He had had the opportunity to take care of a child before ... the sweet, adorable little Lux, whose smile had comforted him so many times ...

Did he also cancel her birth?

He froze, a dull pain gripping his soul. He relived the little girl's look, her joy of life, her optimism, her crystalline laughter, her hugs ...

He closed his eyes, repressing tears. He had promised himself that he would fix everything by coming here... and that included helping Cross go out with Epic, not Dream. Because the swordsman and the guard were like Ink and Nightmare: a couple by compulsion, not by love. Even though Dream and Cross had managed to bond enough to keep from falling into despair...

“Gah... ?”

Insomnia's squeak brought him back to earth. He looked at the child in astonishment, then his eyes widened as the two little hands came to rest on his face and the baby, on the brink of tears, emitted a sob-like twitter.

Nyx felt its throat to knot:

“Oh, Somnia ... Don't cry, I'm all right...”

He kissed him gently on the forehead, caressing his back to comfort him, then approached with a new smile to prove his point. But the child was not fooled and continued to fidget. How to calm him down? Nyx really didn't want to see him cry, especially not for himself ...

An idea suddenly occurred to him. There was one thing that amused Lux greatly, maybe Insomnia would enjoy it too?

Although it seemed silly to him, he checked around him to make sure there was no one around and concentrated to perceive a magical energy in the castle. But as agreed, he was alone with the baby.

He closed his eyes, blew softly, intriguing the child who tilted his head to the side ... before bursting out laughing when Nyx revealed his star-shaped pupils.

The black-boned skeleton laughed, blinked to transform his pupils again, changing them into a pink diamond and a blue square, causing the baby to laugh again. Going through all the possible shapes and colors, Nyx decided to stick to the round, starry shapes and colors such as blue, purple or black, having fun adding shades of pink and red, marveling at Insomnia who was chirping again, happily tapping his little palms.

While continuing his little merry-go-round, Nyx came to the kitchen and used shadows to make his tentacles appear. They searched the cupboards and the fridge, preparing with ease a bottle of vanilla milk - as Killer had recommended.

It was an intense relief to be able to be himself, not to have to be suspicious and hide his pupils or appendages, just to be able to act without worrying about betraying himself to others.

He held a sigh, not wishing to spoil Insomnia's joy. The little one had turned away from his eyes to look at his tentacles in astonishment, before twittering again and waving his own little tentacles, making Nyx smile with tenderness.

“You're so adorable, little guy.”

He kissed his cheekbone and retrieved the bottle. Insomnia quickly grabbed it, excited, and shoved the teat into his mouth, relaxing immediately at the first sip.

Nyx settled him more comfortably in the hollow of his arms and returned to the living room where he sat back on the couch, while his tentacles struggled to put away the coloring and cushions. He thought that maybe he should have invited PaperJam, he hadn't seen him for a while and thought that he and Insomnia could have played together. It would probably be a next time.

If there was a next time...

He tensed up slightly, barely holding on to his feelings, which were just waiting to break the barrier and burst into the open. He had to think of something else, to keep his mind from wandering.

“... gah ...”

He blinked, looked at Insomnia who had gradually released the bottle, half asleep.

Nyx softened:

“Tired, eh ...?”

He retrieved the bottle to put it on the table and then went quietly to the little one's room, gently caressing his head:

“... Me too, I'm tired ...”

He reached the room, entered naturally and gently placed the baby in the bed, making sure it was set up correctly, watching that the room was at a suitable temperature for the little one, taking the time to turn down the heating but still covering the little legs with a thin blanket.

“Go Somnia, go to sleep.

- Gah ....

- Don't worry, I won't stay away.”

The baby tried to respond, but, too tired, he finally closed his eyes, falling gently into Morpheus' arms.

Nyx contemplated him for a few moments, as if hypnotized, without being aware of his pupils turned blue.

He looked away painfully, he let himself slide to the ground with spite.

How did you... For all his love for Insomnia, for the innocence of this young boy, how...

How could he feel so bad? So envious?

How dare he be jealous of such a little baby?

He closed his eyes, put his head against the bed, controlling his breathing as best he could.

He had to hold on.

He had to hold.

He had to...

[He petrified]

He jumped to his feet, his eyes wide open in terror.

[Impossible. Impossible impossible impossible]

There…

There was new magic in the castle.

[A Overly familiar magic]

[Way too terrifying]

He turned around to face the door, suddenly feeling shaky. Magic was approaching its location. Or should I say...

[She approached Insomnia]

Nyx is swallowing. His own magic was camouflaged, not the child's. It gave him the advantage of surprising the intruder. At least he would have had the advantage if he hadn't been so terrified, literally paralyzed by fear.

But he had to move, if only to put the child in the ab-

Her body vanished into the shadows the instant the door slammed, waking Insomnia who squealed with surprise.

The baby blinked, confused, not understanding what was going on, or even why Nyx was no longer at his side. But he trembled under the frightening sensation of a torrent of negative emotions.

He hiccupped, painfully straightened himself up, raising his innocent gaze to the new presence, the newcomer.

He was all the more confused. For if he didn't really recognize the magic facing him, the owner was very familiar to him.

“... Gah... ?” he said leaning his head to the side, not understanding what Ink was doing there.

But despite his young age, he easily understood that something was wrong.

Ink had an unpleasant smell.

A smell of blood and dust.

The little one fell back to his bed, suddenly intimidated, but above all ....

[Completely scared]

It wasn't Ink. It wasn't the Ink he knew. It wasn't the painter who came from time to time to the castle, who laughed with his parents, who kept him company to draw with Nyx.

And by the way ... where was Nyx?

He trembled at the agreement of a laugh. A cynical, dangerous laugh.

The demented laugh of Ink whose pupils had turned purple.

Insomnia remained frozen.

He was just a baby. Just a tiny little baby. How could he have defended himself? What could he have done in the face of an adult far more powerful than himself?

He barely had time to see the brush being held up.

The brush that came crashing down.

Shattering against a sharp tentacle.

“Wha... ?!” Ink let go of Ink in a stupor, before his pupils suddenly disappeared in a dull rage.

But he didn't have time to react as the shadows fell on Insomnia, drowning him abruptly to make him disappear.

Insomnia coughed, lost, his gaze for a moment veiled by darkness, before he suddenly regained his vision and became more confused: how had he arrived in the corridor? Impossible for him to think about it: Nyx had just appeared and grabbed him in his arms, starting a race through the corridors of the castle, panicked.

“Gah?!” exclaimed the baby as he perceived the older one's bluish pupils.

Nyx did not hear him, turned in a corridor, his mind tortured by his fear and the profusion of insults he was inflicting on himself. What the hell was going on? What was going on? What the fuck was going on?!

[What was his father doing here?!]

The pain that twisted his soul made his bile rise. His phalanges tightened on the child.

[His timeline still existed?]

[How? Why?!]

[How did Ink get here?!]

[THE PORTAL WAS DESTROYED]

He came to curse his magical instability, the fucking instability that kept him from teleporting. The slightest use of magic was twisting him around, and he wasn't inclined to have a seizure now. Not when he didn't have an apple in his hand.

Damn .... Fuckin' ...!

Nyx came into the living room, insulted himself again. His things had remained in his room, including his pencil. Pencil which was his only way to get from one AU to another without using his magic!

He would almost have slapped himself if he hadn't been so focused on staying calm. His only escape: finding paint, praying for it to bring Ink in. The good Ink!

But the idea tied his throat. If the two Inks found out, his cover would be blown, his secret would be understood without the slightest harm!

“...gah or...”

He jumped, looked at Insomnia, who hugged him trembling.

Nyx fainted. The baby was in danger, and he worried that his secret would be discovered? What an idiot! The little one's health was more important than anything else!

He went through the room again in a hurry: he knew there was paint, he had seen Insomnia using it that very morning! So why couldn't he put the hand of...

Nyx threw himself back, narrowly dodged a bone that shattered part of the floor.

The air became much colder than before.

“Alive and well...” Ink's voice growled, cold and angry, as the painter took his time entering the room, his white pupils landing on Nyx in violent disgust.

The skeleton retreated again, the face turned pale. There was no possibility of escape now.

Ink glanced at him scornfully before turning his attention to Insomnia:

“Temporal rewriting... Error and Dream did a good job. It almost could have been a good plan... if they hadn't sent you.”

Nyx tensed up, feeling himself getting weaker and weaker when he came across that hateful look again. And Ink, who fully knew the effect he was having on his son, sneered maliciously:

“What a joke... I guess they should have been the ones to go. But Ruru really didn't measure up to me!”

Nyx's back hit the wall, giving him the painful reality of being completely trapped, while his mind came to torture him again, that a memory made him want to burst into tears. The memory of Ink finishing Error without the slightest remorse.

“... H- He loved you...” Nyx stuttered, squeezing Insomnia a little tighter.

The painter's pupils turned purple before he struck violently at the table, destroying it abruptly, shaking the rest of the room.

“He loved me...? he repeated. He loved me?”

Nyx had no time to react, too destabilized by the situation, and it was in a scream that he felt a bone come out of the wall behind him, a bone that shattered a rib and paralyzed him with pain.

Insomnia made a whimper, squirming in his arms as if to observe the wound, but Nyx held him tightly against it, protecting him with his arms, grimacing as he glanced feverishly at his father.

Ink trembled with rage, as if consumed by an inferno:

“He NEVER loved me!

- That's not true! All you had to do was open his eyes, give him time, not rush him like you did!

- WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT IT?!”

Nyx's soul turned blue and he was tackled against the wall much more violently. Ink approached dangerously, close to insanity, ready to implode, to destroy everything:

“Did you have fun changing the story? Getting involved in lives that don't concern you?”

Nyx felt the tears burning his eyes:

“... I-it concerns me ...”

His voice broke:

“You are my parents...”

Ink petrified a few centimeters away from him, his eyes devoid of pupils, hit hard by his words ... before suddenly clenching his teeth and materializing a new bone at the sharp end, to plant it sharply in his son's shoulder, in a sinister creak that accompanied Nyx's scream.

“YOU...”

He pressed harder, digging deeper and deeper into the cracked bone, not caring about his son's cry.

“Don't you ever dare to think of me as your father again.”

The black-boned one yelps, terrified, unable to defend himself.

Ink growled again, raised his hand to Insomnia:

“Get off that kid. He doesn't belong here. He's not supposed to exist.”

Nyx hiccuped. It wasn't supposed to exist...? ... Quite the contrary. Insomnia had every reason to exist. It was born of a loving union, it was born because it was wanted. It was born because its presence was desired, because it was proof of a powerful love between two beings.

Insomnia had to exist. Insomnia deserved to exist.

And the fury that seized Nyx finally broke the barrier around his soul. His left pupil glowed bright red.

[His magic exploded]

The surge of energy propelled Ink backwards, although he barely managed to catch up. Seeing Nyx break the bone that held him against the wall, the Creator made his brush appear a second time and threw himself at his son, but the son teleported behind him.

Ink was horrified at being dodged, and had great difficulty deflecting the tentacles that pounced on him. It was only the second time Nyx dared to stand up to him, but the painter had a bitter memory of their last confrontation.

Yet the situation made him smile softly:

“I wonder if you'll dare to confront Nightmare in such a way!”

Nyx turns pale:

“Wha... He's here too?!”

Ink sneered, projected a wave of paint towards his opponent. Nyx missed being touched but melted into the shadows in time to reappear a little further away before once again using his tentacles on the painter. Painter whose smile grew larger:

“Of course he's here! Did you really think you could hide the portal from us? Ahahah, a nice way out, isn't it? Away from our world, which will soon disappear!”

Ink knocked his brush down on Nyx. This one protected himself with an arm, his arm whose wrist was wounded, his wrist whose pain until then attenuated returned more strongly, more destructive than before.

The cry of Nyx got stuck in his throat. He struggled to take support on his legs, trying as best he could to push the weapon away without letting go of Insomnia. And Ink's unhealthy laughter continued, twisting his already battered mind:

“Oh Nyx, your eyes are so evocative! Why is the gate still open, you ask? It had closed behind me, you think!”

Nyx swallowed, feeling lost, unable to ignore his father's words.

“But Nyx, for a gate to close, someone has to close it! But you must not have thought about taking care of it, did you? You thought it would do itself! But just like Cross, that stupid Cross, way too busy saving Dream's ass!”

No ... no no no no! No!

[Nyx had seen the gate disappear]

[He... He had concluded that it had closed. It was obvious!]

“You guys are idiots... So that's why they didn't go through the portal with you? They thought they'd closed up!”

Cross, Dream and Lux... had time to join him after all? Nyx couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it.

No no no no no no no !

*** ***

“Master Cross, it's closing!” Nyx exclaimed in panic as he watched the gate slowly disappear.

Cross had taken a brief glance at him before turning his attention back behind them. In the distance he could see Lux, his dear little Lux, trying to defend herself against Horror and Dust, losing ground and being wounded in the arm, without deigning to give up the battle. And not far from him was Dream. Dream, who tried to join her, to rescue her, but was confronted by Nightmare, against whom he no longer had any advantage.

And of course, Ink was surely around, spying on them with his sadistic air, waiting for the slightest breach to strike a fatal blow.

Cross had clenched his fists:

“Dream and Lux will never be able to join us...”

Nyx had flinched before frowning, staring a feverish look at their enemies, ready to draw out his tentacles:

“Yea... Let's go and help them!

- No.”

Nyx had jumped up, looked at his teacher with a confused look on his face:

“No... ?”

Cross had smiled at him:

“I trust you, kid.”

By the time Nyx grasped the tenor of his words, the monochrome had already pushed him into the portal.

Flash, terror, pain.

Nyx's scream.

“CROSS!!!”

Then nothing. Nothing at all. Silence.

And the sky.

A shining sky.

The sky of OuterTale.

*** ***

Nyx was violently brought back to reality, suffering a sharp blow that threw him to the ground, his skull twitching when he hit the ground. For a moment his sight was black and white, while a coughing fit took him, bringing the metallic taste of the blood to his puck.

He barely had the presence of mind to turn over on his stomach, to protect with his body the little Insomnia whose cries had begun to fill the room.

[Help!]

His body no longer responded, as did his mind.

[Someone, anyone]

His magic crackled, screamed, begged.

[Somebody protects Insomnia, please]

His sight was troubled by his tears, tears that slid down his face, accompanying the sobs that escaped him.

[Please, Somebody… protects my little brother]

He cowered further over the little baby, closing his eyes, apprehensive, fearing the fatal blow, the one who turned him to dust to leave only a child completely helpless.

But the only thing that reached him was Ink's scream.

A bug sounds.

The sound of footsteps.

“What the hell is this?” grew a glitchy voice, both puzzled and annoyed.

Shaken with jolts, Nyx widened his eyes, raised his head.

It was the second time ...

The second time Error saved him from Ink's hands.

===

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Dreamtale -> Joku

Error -> LoverOfPiggies

Ink -> Myebi

Cross and Lux -> Jakei

Insomnia -> EnaPouyou

#undertale #Guardian Angel #fanfiction #fanchild #nyx #insomnia #nightmare #error #ink #alternate universe #alternate timeline #errink #nightkiller #inkmare #vantablack

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