Incomprehension [UNDERTALE]

OneShot

Author's note = English isn't my native language. If you notice any errors, please let me know in a respectful way and I will correct them.

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Couldn't he destroy a universe quietly without this idiot of a painter intervening? Error kept brooding about it. It seemed that Ink liked to put obstacles in his way, only to stir up his rage and resentment. Because one doesn't come and tell Error that Ink was doing this out of kindness! The Creator was all but 'nice'! How could he have been a monster without a soul, and therefore without feelings?

Oh, don't answer, it's been a long time since Error asked that question. After centuries of struggle, he had simply given up trying to understand his opposite, just fighting it and trying to destroy it. Even though his vials had intrigued him for a moment, he had quickly swept aside his questions about their use, especially since he had tasted them on his own, only to spit it out with disgust, a disgusting feeling of paint in his mouth.

What a horror.

Error didn't understand Ink and didn't try to understand him. Error hated Ink and did not try to love him. Error only wanted to destroy the AU's quietly, those AU's that didn't have to exist, that had to disappear, even if it meant 'killing Ink'.

No....... Let's rephrase: EVERYTHING if it meant "kill Ink!"

Error was only dreaming of the day when he could smash this cheeky kid, show him who was the most powerful in this rotten multiverse! Oh yes, he did...

And today seemed like the perfect day. Just like all the other fucking days when the Destroyer had deigned to leave his void to destroy an AU, and Ink had shown himself all smiles before him.

A classic face to face between the two rivals.

Error growled at the sight of his opponent's big smile. Another frustrating point with the Creator: He was far too happy. SEEMED much too happy. He hated that laughable smile that reminded him that it was all fake, overplayed. He hated that smile that reminded him that in front of him stood a rag doll with fake emotions.

But that didn't stop him from gloating, imagining that he would scrape it off and put it on its opposite side. A scrape that would make him cry. And if he couldn't get tears out of him, he would force him to swallow his blue paint, the paint that gave him bad emotions such as sadness.

Oh yes, Error was gloating in advance.

"Your last hour has struck the artist!" cried the Destroyer, sniggering, drawing his wires.

Ink giggled quietly, not the least bit impressed:

"Oh Error, at least deign to be a credible villain! You're giving me a really cliché sentence here!"

Error tensed, terribly upset, shooting his opposite eye. Cliché? You're kidding me. He shook his head, dispelling the thought. What did he care about being a cliché? He was going to shoot the little fucker anyway!

"I don't give a shit! Today, I'm going to end it once and for all...

- Erroor, cliché!

- My revenge...

- Cliche!

- I'll get you... !

- Cliché!"

Error spat for half a second, his magic crackling with anger as he felt his soul fill with a deaf rage. Damn it, if that bastard interrupted him again, he'd make a bloodbath, even if it meant self-destruction !