SMU, SMP: What If?

The Yang Before The Balance

AN-

Forced destroyer: Erratum

Universe: FGod universe before there is an Fgod

Pairing: None (for now at least)

-Idea:So I've come up with a basic idea of how my version of Ink in my Forced Destroyer universe works. He has a similar beginning to canon Ink, born in a white void with broken unliving copies, the only thing fully designed to have emotions. But this time, the universe was made by Fate. She made it, forgot of her thought of the Protector, and just let the otherworldly beings create worlds. As time went on, she realized that the creators doing so made their AU's... strange. Incomplete, and not exactly attached to the multiverse like how Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, etc are. So, she acted as if she was Ink's savior after he ripped apart his soul, even though she was actually the reason he was there in the first place.

She gave him the ability to create what the creators wished, and make copies and friends.

But... I had a rather interesting idea. I wondered, what would happen if Erratum met this Ink before Fate decided to use him?

What if... he found him in the process of destroying his soul?

-Any other info necessary: Dream is still in stone, Error doesn't exist, he is in his original au, barely any skeletons know of the multiverse.

Another idea! I thought it'd be cool to see how Erratum would react to Ink before he was... well anyone really.

Warnings

Suicide attempt

Self harm

Mention of blood

Child abuse? I mean, Ink is technically Fate's child-

Usual Erratum self deprecation

~~~~~~~

Bone hitting bone caused a continuous clacking sound, the only noise in the complete silence.

2D sketches of monsters that would never come to life filled the white, empty void, all uncolored and dead.

There was only one living being in the endless emptiness, a skeleton who was shaking, his arms digging into his arms deeply, them dripping a black ooze. He would often hurt himself, to bring a color other than just that... burning white. He wasn't aware of what he was doing, he knew it hurt, but he didn't know why it produced the strange dark color. But he was happy seeing it, it was usually enough to calm his madness for... well, some time. There was no clock, no sun and no moon to determine time, or day and night.

There was nothing comfy for him to lay on, no place to go to clean, or to put on fabrics to cover his naked body. There was no cold, nor warmth, there was nothing but sorrow and insanity for the small skeleton. No food, nobody around to give him any sort of touch... nice or not. He could only cry, the nameless abandoned idea, the only one who had cruelly been allowed to have thoughts.

This time... the strange substance that poured from his broken bones was nowhere near enough. He kept scratching, hyperventilating needing more.

He couldn't stand the white- he HATED IT.

He didn't want to just stay here the rest of his life- he wanted, no NEEDED to get out! ... but in reality he didn't know if... there was an out. He had been born in this white, his own bones the same colors.... What if this was truly all there was to living? Just an empty void with broken copies... he couldn't do this anymore. He slowly summoned the strange white, glowing thing inside of him. He was unsure what exactly it was, but from curious poking and scratching he found that it was connected to him. In that it hurt badly when he managed to harm it. ... which meant, it was probably his best shot of leaving.