Hey Ink!!! I saw your adorable Errorink art. Noticed you mentioned something about requests. May I get Decussate Cross by twinribbonz? If not that’s OK. Have a wonderful day.
tysm for the nice comments!!! here's the silly:
sorry that this took so long 💀 i tried drawing a more srs version but could not bring myself to finish
so i think all the requests i get will be whiteboard doodles!! hope that's alright with you guys :3
feel free to request more!!! im always looking for sillies to draw
Gif I made ages back of mine & @scribbletheartist's Cross variants!!
Nor (Left) is my Geno!Cross & 'Xross' (Right) is Scribble's Cross from their MV Underverse X !!
( It might be a lil compressed so you can see a cleaner version of it here )
(Pose from @/mellon-soup)
Stills & singles under the cut
Fun stills / variations I like!
The two seperate images ('Before' & 'After')
And uh bc I think they're cool, 'Reminisce' & 'Spectre'
Today had been Switch's birthday; for whatever that was worth. It felt like just another day to him, again. Nothing special, nothing of note. Yet another day where he was pitifully painfully alone. Honestly? That was all he ever seemed to be anymore; alone. Switch hadn’t bothered making any sorts of plans; there was no point. He’d just treated today like any other day. Stayed in, had lunch, read. He hadn’t even bothered exercising today, simply not feeling up to it. Sure there was nothing wrong with being on his own; he was just tired of it. Acknowledging that there even was anything special about today would only make it feel worse.
Switch was sitting on his couch when he heard his phone going off; a text message. He sighed soundlessly, heaving himself up from his comfortable spot. He wearily approached the side-table where it was lying, snatching it up without checking (yet). He wanted to at least be comfortable before his day was ruined any further; having to assume that the one texting him was Tick. The bastard.
So. Imagine his surprise when, once reseated, he checked his phone to find a… DM from Mazu? Of all beings? Switch blinked in confusion, browbones furrowed. He huffed, they didn’t even have a DM chat up until now? So why. Why were they messaging him? To. To wish him a happy birthday…? He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Since when had Tick’s little pet cared about him enough to bother? Thought maybe that was the key; Tick. They were both Tick’s; in their vastly different ways. Not that he thought Tick would have put them up to it, he would never, but maybe that shared ownership made Mazu want to reach out? He was unsure; he didn’t know if it even mattered in the end, why Mazu had bothered.
Since it’s not. Not like he was actually complaining about it? The birthday wish felt nice. It felt good to actually be thought of. He reached a hand to play with the triangle hanging off his collar choker, metal cool against his phalange tips. Mind caught on the words. Maybe it felt too nice..? It sure made everything a hell of a lot more complicated. He honestly wasn’t sure if he had the words to explain the complicated emotions he was feeling right now. There was something there about the fact that Mazu, his tormentor’s pet, was the only one who cared enough. Was the only one present enough in his life to actually wish him a happy birthday. It… just made everything feel so bleak. So pointless. It was a blazing reminder of just how far he’d fallen; how alone he actually was.
It also made Switch feel somewhat guilty? For the way he’s spoken to Mazu the other day; when they’d been in chat together. He groaned quietly, rubbing the scar on his frontal bone. While he did have his reasons for snapping at the parasite, such as the fact he knew they were spying for Tick; perhaps it hadn’t been needed this time. So he apologised. It felt like the right thing to do, the only thing to do. He smiled ever so slightly hearing that it was ‘okay.’ Making an offer to do better next time. Maybe. Maybe Mazu wasn’t so bad? Not that he’d ever really had an issue with them specifically. For the life of him he just couldn’t understand why they acted the way they did towards Tick. The one person he hated more than anyone else. Yet Mazu happily acted like his pet? He’d been shaking his skull the entire time he thought about it, sighing deeply. “Fuck.” He whispered hoarsely, voice barely audible. The idea of acting that way made him feel ill. Still. Mazu was nice. Deserved better. Even if they sometimes ate people.
The conversation and his thoughts on it were still lingering in the back of Switch’s mind three hours later when he received another text; Mazu again. It was one simple word: “gift.” He had to do a doubletake. Teeth parted ever so slightly in sheer shock. They? He? A. A gift? For him? He had no idea what someone like Mazu could possibly have gotten for him. Why they’d gotten anything for him? It left him feeling genuinely baffled. A few kind words thrown his way were one thing but this? Actually doing something? It. Well. He couldn’t formulate a better response than “Gift?” for a reason. The affirmative text he received in reply didn’t help. He almost jumped when the other suddenly appeared, aforementioned gifts in hand. Maybe Switch should be concerned why or how they other even knew where he lived but he was so used to the lack of privacy, he simply didn’t care; too used to it. Tick would suddenly appear whenever he felt like it, why should Mazu be any different? Simply leaving them on the table before vanishing again.
Switch didn’t want the other knowing how rattled he was by the simple act, actually glad they’d not suck around; he was feeling terribly pathetic right now. His response was supposed to be cool, casual. He wasn’t sure he managed it; reading surprised to his own lights. Some of his genuine appreciation leaked through; not that he minded that. Not entirely. He blinked away the tears he could feel burning in the corners of his socks; taking a single sharp inhale. Switch refused to cry. It was just a gift. So what if this was the first gift he’d gotten in a soul-achingly long time? The first time he’d felt almost normal in an achingly long time? Big deal. It. It really was no big deal…
His eyelights flickered between the gifts Mazu had brought him. A hot meal, saves him from having to cook, and a pair of gloves. He rotated the gloves in his hands, gently tracing over the seams of the leather surface. These gloves were nice. Really nice; high quality. While gloves weren’t his specialty, he could tell this must have been expensive. He snorted. Not that he thought Mazu would have actually bought them, being known for stealing as they were. The gloves slid on easily, the fit more or less perfect. He flexed his phalanges, admiring the way the leather moved with him. He’ll make good use out of these; making sure to let the other know that, as well as giving additional thanks. He brought a hand to his teeth in surprise, feeling them curled into a smile. The leather felt nice against his bones, both inside and out. He will be adding these to his regular wardrobe. Though he does slip them off for the moment; ready to enjoy his other gift instead.
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AN: Mmmm group chat AU writing.... Also Cross Collision duo my beloathed. They're so messed up. Prized Possession duo my beloveds. They're sort of even worse. Tick ruins everyone he touches, it's so damn fascinating!! :O
Tag/s: @t3m1 @kiokublue (bc this is about the interaction with yours!!)
(feel free to ask to be tagged!!)
Tick was pacing back and forth and back and forth. Route he’d been treading leaving a clear path amongst the destruction and debris littering his surroundings. Sockets wide open, eyelights burning with an unnatural fervour; muttering to himself as he paced, volume barely audible. “Failure. What did He mean I’m a failure? I. No. No no no no no. I’m not. I can’t be. No no no no. I’m not. Never a failure. I can be better. Am better. Never fail Him.” He paid no mind to the mess and mayhem around him, not seeming to notice the sounds of various bits crunching underneath his boots as he continued to move. Always moving, never stopping. Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do with them. “Failure…” He shook his skull wildly, as if that would clear the thought from his mind; it didn’t work.
Ill-gotten LV was still burning in his bones, a wildfire clouding his thoughts and contributing heavily to his current state; as well as that of his surroundings. Everything in his current quarters was trashed, broken beyond repair. It looked almost as if some kind of a whirlwind had passed through, leaving nothing in its path untouched. In reality, it had all been Tick. In his LV induced rage-high he’d set his magic upon anything and everything. Nothing was to be spared from his outburst; his show of anger and anguish. An extreme kind of temper tantrum. Half beyond his control, half beyond his care. He just wanted his space to reflect his mind, his emotions. An utter mess. Scattered. Disjointed. Not how it was supposed to be. Not at all.
Tick had been abandoned here by Him. Told to think about what he’d done, his failures. (There was that word again, burned into his mind like a brand; failure.) Tick was under strict instructions to sit there and wait out the LV spike. There was to be no contact with Him until he was through. It had been days (...hadn’t it?). Nothing was changing. (Stagnante). He was still there, still abandoned alone. Still seemingly just as high on LV as he was when he first arrived.Some distant part of him wondered if that was his punishment. To be stuck here in this state for an eternity. A failure. Unworthy of His attention. Discarded the moment he proved not to be of the use He needed. It wasn’t like Tick was unaware that was the truth of his situation; he just hoped it hadn’t already come to that. No. No No No. It had not. It couldn’t have. One. One small mistake failure can’t have been enough for that. He inhales sharply, exhaling with the same force. Calm. Tick must calm himself. That’s what He’d said; get through the spike and get to go home return to Him.
It should have been easy. Why couldn’t it have been easy. He moved to smack one of his palms into the side of his skull, sharply. “Idiot.” Tick berated himself, “Simple plan. Get in. Capture not kill. You should have-” He cuts himself off. Thinking about the death he’d cause just made his bones itch, feel hotter. That train of thought must be avoided. He forced his arm back down, fisting it into the material of his jacket. None of this was helping. He was still just. Just here. Not where he was supposed to be. Not helping Him. Not… not cleaning up after his mess. He wanted to. So very badly. Prove he hadn’t ruined everything, that he hadn’t failed.
Mid lap his eyelights were drawn to a shard of what had once been a mirror on the ground, Tick studied himself within it. All he could see reflected back was a failure; the word still ringing in skull like poison, tainting his every thought. Tick was a failure, unlike Him. That thought had him pausing, ‘unlike Him.’ He would never have ruined such carefully laid plans like Tick had. Tick… Tick should be more like Him. He was still staring unblinking at himself while his mind processed the idea. He bent down to retrieve the shard, uncaring or perhaps unnoticing of the marrow now slowly oozing from where the edges had cut into his palms; grip on the piece firm enough it was a miracle it hadn't further cracked under the force.
“Not a failure.” Watching himself say it didn’t make it any more convincing to Tick. Hearing Him say it would be the only balm to this wounded feeling festering in his soul. Still staring into the lights of failure, an idea crossed his hazy unfocused mind. It struck suddenly. Much like how everything had suddenly gone wrong. Tick needed to model himself after Him. To emulate Him. Be the best. Why not… make that literal. Just the outfit must not be enough. Tick needed to physically be more like Him. A single phalange traced a line down from his socket and over his cheekbone. He could. He honestly actually could. Tick wasn’t thinking clearly now, not by any definition of the word. The only things that rattled around his mind was how it sounded when He called him a failure and His face. The need to be (more like) Him. His will was resolute; this was happening.
What debatably rational parts of his mind were left reasoned that just smacking something into his skull might not give the pattern he craved, that doing so recklessly was most likely to simply spiderweb instead; unbidden stained glass came to mind. The way you’d score the glass first, giving it a path to follow; training it to behave. Something he knew a thing or two about. He glanced at the shard still clasped in his hand and figured it would work. Without so much as a second to reconsider, he slashed the sharp tip of it down his cheek; aiming for a straight line. He exhaled sharply at the feeling, it hurt. Not badly enough to stop him from repeating the action again and again, just enough to be felt above the LV still snapping at his senses. Readjusting his grip, he checked the results in the shard. They were… satisfactory; not a failure. It should work for his purposes, he hoped.
Ignoring the throbbing pain radiating from the cut, he cast his lights around for something suited to the next step, not just any old object would do. Despite his ‘pre preparation’ it still had to be just right in order to work. He only had this one shot and he wasn’t going to fail, not this time. They landed on something that should be suitable. Sturdy. Weighty. A nice point, which would better distribute the force of the impact. He’s not entirely sure what it used to be, nor does it matter, but he knows what it will become. The key instrument in his betterment.
Intent was everything when it came to monsters and he sure intended on making this stick. Taking a steady breath he drew his arm back and then, point first, he smashed it into the pre-marked cut with as much force as he could muster. He succeeded in hitting his target, dead centre.
In his clouded state of judgement Tick hasn’t particularly factored in how much worse it would hurt to crack open his own skull and hurt it did, a line of fire burning hotter and deeper than the rest of his LV soaked bones. He hissed, instinctively dropping both objects; clattering to the floor and blending in with the rest of the mess. He pressed a hand against the injury, which only caused it to hurt more. Despite that he could help but revel in the feeling of it underneath the tips of his phalanges, a soft laugh escaping him which was soon tinged with hysteria. Volume steadily increasing until it almost hurt to listen too. Hand falling away at the same time as he fell to his knees, lights scanning desperately for where the mirror shard had gone. Seeing that it had further shattered on impact, rendering it too small to be usable. “Oh no no no…” His muttering was desperate, he needed to see the results of his work. Right. Now. He crawled over to where he’d found the first shard, still uncaring of the other injury he was causing himself. He located another sizable shard and hurriedly picked it up, a sickening mixture of anticipation and dread building higher and higher with every passing second he couldn’t see. His hands were visibly trembling, a mix of pain LV and adrenalin.
When he saw his reflection he couldn’t help but smile, wide enough to make even the undamaged size of his face ache. “Perfection.” He breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight. “Just like Him…” It was everything he could have asked for. Almost. The faint upwards flick on the tail of the crack somewhat ruined the effect, the effectiveness of the mimicry emulation. “Not a failure..” Free hand repeatedly stroking alongside the injury, “no. not a failure. I could never be Him. It’s only right; to not be exactly the same. What right do I have anyways? To be exactly like him.” Overly wide smile not abating even as he reassured himself.
Tick continued to sit there, on his knees, amongst the debris; just staring at his newly altered reflection. Touching his face and whispering self-assurances; already half-making plans for more changes that would ‘atone’ for his mistakes; his failure. More ways to be just like Him.
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AN: It's a really good thing I wrote most of this yesterday bc I've been to tired (or busy) to work on it for most of today ehehehe.... that's why it's getting posted so late (comparatively) >.<
I am, in fact, actively fighting the urge to pass out as I post this lmao
Also yes yikes this is a really heavy piece featuring my incredibly fucked up guy Tick. My beloathed evil Cross variant <3
He um. He has IssuesTM. Beyond just this. Far far far beyond.... but that's what makes him so very fascinating :)
Tag/s: @t3m1
(feel free to ask to be tagged!!)
