Demons & Mortals | ErrorInk | EDITING

T W E L V E

Dust had been conjured at the behest of Blueberry, a seemingly puzzling act considering Blue's role as a priest. Wasn't such a summoning a direct affront to the maker? Blue's heart, however, was ensnared by Dust, who bore the unholy title of demon. Their relationship was as turbulent as the forces of nature, entwined in love and defiance.

Meanwhile, Dream harbored his forbidden affection for a celestial entity, Cross, who bore the resemblance of an angel yet radiated a wisdom that transcended mere divinity. It was a love cloaked in both admiration and despair, a bond that often drew Dream into reflection on the nature of love and existence.

As the weight of these complex emotions settled over them, Ink felt an inexplicable connection to it all—an echo of memories that felt hauntingly familiar, yet slipped through his fingers like sand. Error, ever the supportive companion, stretched lazily and wrapped an arm around Ink's shoulders. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, he planted a soft kiss there before drawing back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "You okay, gay mama? You seem deep in thought," he remarked, amusement dancing in his voice.

Ink raised an eyebrow, taken aback. "Wait, did you just call me gay mama?" he questioned. Error only chuckled, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face. "Sure did. You got a problem with it—gay mama?" he clarified, a playful challenge in his tone. Ink felt warmth flood his cheeks, but he quickly shook his head. "Nope!"

"Good." Error replied smugly, clearly reveling in his teasing.

But Ink's mind was elsewhere, torn between fleeting recollections and a gnawing uncertainty. Each attempt to dig deeper into his thoughts felt like hitting a dead end, his throat tightening as if the answers were trapped just beyond reach. With a sigh, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "It feels all too familiar."

"Oh? Really? What feels familiar?" Error inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Ink hesitated, staring off into the distance, eyes clouded with contemplation. "I don't know. Every time I try to think back, there's something I'm supposed to see. But it's always shrouded in a blur."

"What are you thinking back on?" Error pressed gently, sensing the turmoil within his friend.

"I'm not sure. It's just that... I—I can't put my finger on it." Ink glanced away, then back at Error, searching for clarity. "It could just be a memory I wasn't meant to remember. I get those all the time. You know, the whole past lives thing."

Ink's eyes sparkled with surprise. "You were alive?"

"What? No, I didn't mean me personally," Error chuckled, realizing the misunderstanding. "I meant memories. Even some of my own have been wiped away by my father for reasons I can't quite grasp. It's all a bit hazy, really," he joked lightly.

"Wasn't your dad like an angel or something?" Ink queried, curiosity shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, kind of. But the memories he erased... they have something to do with that, I think. Unfortunately, my memory is pretty terrible," Error admitted, a sheepish grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Error," Ink said, suddenly serious.

"What?" 

"So is mine. But, demons bleed, don't they?" Ink probed, his voice steady despite the weight of his question.

Error paused, laughter bubbling up at the unexpected nature of the inquiry. "That's a stupid question. But I'll answer you honestly, if I can." He sighed, stretching his arms wide. "Yes, demons do bleed. Why, curious about demon nature?" 

Ink was lost in thought, memories twisting like smoke. "I was just pondering... once I had a dream where I saw myself fighting against—" He trailed off, his eyes glazing over, their vibrant lights dimming to a hollow stare.