[panel 1] Hornet: look i killed all of them you're fine and alive and oh wyrm please don't cry i don't know how to deal
[panel 2] Hornet: um- oh! you like music right? here. i'll play the needolin so you'll feel better and stop crying. okay? good.
[panel 3] sherma: sniff how did it escape the citadel sight this place hiccup hidden from holy light sob straps tight all this suffering sniff hiccup am i not holy enough sniff
[panel 4] hornet: oh wyrm this is so much more worse
two cakes second chapter is out now in which error starts getting into this whole domestic stuff.
preview slice underneath
Error hits the bed with a groan and grimaces at the sensation. Lumpy, scratchy and zero out of ten. Plus the smell which smelled… Weird. Ugh, the bad weird too. Well Error is definitely not using this old thing. The skeleton promptly abandons the bed and opens a nice big portal to send that miserable furniture out of this ‘verse.
“P-Problem solved.” Error dusts off his hands, and continues his little inspection of his new room.
Should he fit a bean bag in here or go for a hammock? What does Sans even like to sleep on? The bed was clearly a mistake and-
Error jerks his head up at the sound of the front door being unlocked very noisily.
Intruder? Already? Or was it that meddling Ink who tracked down his existence here and think he’s about to wreck havoc?! What did Ink want this time? Error has dealt with enough shit already, he doesn’t need Ink to add it even more-!
Thump!
“Ow!”
Huh. The human was back way earlier than expected. Didn’t they usually only show up when it got dark?
Just to make sure, Error looked out of the window. Yup, still sunny and bright as hell.
Ugh. Socialising.
Error left the bedroom and peeked down the second floor’s railing. The human was stumbling their way from the front door, rubbing their head with one hand. The other, holding a plastic bag full of indescribable blurry stuff. The outcode watches from above while the human flounders around the ground floor, disappearing from sight when they head to the kitchen.
Oh, they must’ve gone shopping. The famed ‘grocery run’ that Sins and Papiro go on sometimes which would give villains an opportunity to kidnap Frisk, and Asgoro would eventually find out and go on a rescue operation-
“Sans?”
Error blinked at the human that stood at the bottom of the stairs like a dumb idiot. It takes Error an embarrassing extra second to realise that they’re addressing Sans. Him.
“U-Uh, y-yeah?” Error nearly kicks himself for stuttering like a baby bone. Stupid glitches, making everything worse for him.
Okay. Calm down, he’s the one in control here. Just act natural, Error. Do what Sins do when Papyri comes back home after an adventure.
Take two.
A blink and three clicks of space being played like spaghetti, and Error appears in the kitchen, earning a mousy squeak from the human. He mimics Sins’ casual pose, memorised from many episode reruns, by leaning one arm on the countertop and rests his chin atop his palm, tugging his mouth into a smile. A very, very small smile that might be a little upside down and horrifically unpracticed without destruction born glee to fuel it, but it’s there.
(could he get the human to make that noise again?)
“W-What is it?”
… Okay, he couldn’t help the growl but at least he’s not deleting them from existence. That’s an improvement to being Sans, right? Right?
The human, to its credit, doesn’t scream like all other disgusting abominations do when confronted with a wild Error. Actually they’re saying nothing at all, and Error can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. Like it’s great not being screamed at yet but this is not matching how a conversation goes in Undernovela. There’s supposed to be follow-up dialogues at this point.
“It’s just that… You’re here.” The human finally spoke, slow and puzzled.
Okay, maybe the human was not entirely stupid and unwilling to look past his completely different appearance after all. That was probably too much to hope for.
Who was he kidding?
He looks nothing like Classic from the clothes to his bones and to even his own code. He saved the human once from their own stupidity and now that it wasn't dark anymore, they were going to tell him to get out. Then how’s he supposed to prove them all wrong?
“W-W-What? A-Am I-I n-not wel-welcomed an-any-anymore?” Error nearly snarled out, daring the human to voice out their intent.
To Error’s surprise, the human shook their head in an almost frantic manner, “No! Never! Y-You’re always welcomed home!” A beat before they added on much more quietly, “... It’s your house after all.”
“... It is? I-I mean, o-of c-c-course it is.” Error nodded hastily in agreement, subconsciously straightening up in confidence.
His reaction seemed to be what the human was looking for since they looked a lot less doubtful of his presence now. Actually, they’re smiling now. That means he’s still Sans to them, right?
i finally tried writing error sans. love me this bratty whiny skeleton and would actually smack the crap out of if i had to deal with him :)
A slice of preview:
“y-you’re just jealous that i’m… not alone on a friday night.” The other Sans gasped out after taking a long moment to recover from Error’s tugging, and has the audacity to smile when the Destroyer whirls back at him with an offended look.
Excuse, what? The fuck? Noooooo.
Error laughs derisively, a sneer across his face as he jeers at the other Sans, “w-who?! me, je-jealous?! you’re joking. shit joke by the way. zero out of ten. get a better fucking se-sense of humor next time. oh wait. you won’t have one. because this abomin-mination of a universe will be long g-g-gone.”
It’s hard to tell how the other Sans reacted because half of his face was already gone, evaporated into dust but his smile is still curled in a mocking smile. “normally i’d say i’d wish you find your one… but i don’t. heh, yours will probably reject you in a beat.”
“yo-you…!” Error blips and warbles into a rage at the act of being belittled by this pansy ass Sans. “i-i don’t have to ta-take this crap fr-from-m you!”
“bitchless.”
“A-AAAGH!”
One savage yank and the Sans’ SOUL cracks and shatters under the pressure of Error’s strings, leaving behind a pile of dust before Error. Without anything to attach itself to, the Red String of Fate disappears without a trace.
Sucker.
“l-loser. as if-if i need one anyway.” Error grumbles, kicking the dust pile out of spite before teleporting out of the crumbling universe.
Nothing beats home sweet home.
The glitch addled skeleton flops majestically upon his bean bag with a satisfied grin. An obliterated anomaly makes a happy Error, and you know what? He deserves a treat, especially after putting up with that universe’s Sans’ nonsense. And of course, all of his hard work.
The acoustic theme of Undernovela begins to fill Error’s pocket of the Anti-Void, and Error uses the opening time to retrieve the unfinished doll from his hanging collection along with his knitting needles, red glasses on face to restore his vision. The Voices are thankfully silent at the moment, sated by the recent destruction of a boring universe and leaving Error alone in peace with Undernovela.
Unfortunately, there was a teensy problem, one that became more prominent over time.
No matter how much Error tried to focus on Undernovela, the taunts of the alternate Sans continued to replay in his mind. Sure, the current episode was just a rerun of a previous episode where Sin took Toriel out on a date in the city, but Error would really fucking appreciate it if his head would stop repeating the recently deceased Sans’ words so he could hear Sin on the screen.
Bitchless, he was declared.
As if Error needed a soulmate anyway!
He’s an Outcode. His reputation was being the freaking Destroyer of Universes and he did not need a soulmate, nor did he want one. Ever. The thought alone of being tied down to some nobody without his say so was revolting, and Error had to wave off some of the glitches forming in his sight as his temper threatened to bubble over again.
Besides, he ain’t gonna put his (nonexistent) love life in the hands of that bitch called Fate. Why, if he really wanted to, he could totally get someone to fall in love with him. He was a prime specimen of a skeleton! Who WOULDN’T want him?
I snatch this great idea from an ancient drawing of @yun-shuten from 2018 (the account has been inactive for a long time, but the original idea belongs to them).
Initially, I just wanted to make a sketch without a plot, but then I got carried away and here I am sitting in front of a comic sketch.
and I decided that this would be one of the premises for the beginning of the dead end prince au..
You wish you had hands. Something for Error to touch even if you know full well by now that he would never let you touch him, or vice versa. It’s been so long since you knew him after all and even the way you are is pushing it. The fact you’re not a million scattered pixels is truly a miracle, given Error’s reputation and usual behaviour with SOULs like you.
Still, you dream. Your thoughts wander.
Respect the boundaries that exist but what if? Would he feel solid, if you had the senses for it? How would his glitches translate to your more broad senses? Would he lash out at you, or allow you the benefit of doubt? Surely he knew you long enough to allow even a brush?
But you don’t have the sense of touch. Not the right one anyway.
There is a solution though (there's more than one way to break free, you remember this) and your little self is further strung along by the idea’s allure.
The current rules only exist because you were here. Anomalous being, abominations to those within this plane of existence. Bound to rules of the medium, but who says you were stuck to only one medium?
You drift a little further ahead, the pull of a potential change singing to you like a siren’s song.
(where are you going?)
It’s right there, sitting so tantalizingly close yet so far away - an exit to this depressing situation you’ve put everyone in. A solution that sits nearly outside the box… But it’s not beyond your reach.
(wait)
You reach out, SOUL thrumming with longing for something better. A solution only you could present thanks to what you were. Maybe you could bring a better person to make this story better. Someone who wasn’t ‘you’ right now. Something new. Only one of you is allowed per setting and it’s clear that this ‘you’ isn’t working. You’re not what he wants or needs.
You are the Anomaly and Error hates-
(wait)
Yellowed tips enter your vision, followed by red phalanges, then black metacarpals. Each digit cupped around that fragile shape that holds you, until you are caged within the same hands you have seen break things over and over again. Your destination is obscured from view as those hands bring you down from your ascendance slowly. Gently.
You follow the direction of his hands. Don’t touch him, you remember this as you carefully hover in the hollow space he carves out for you in the air with his hands. You don’t want to set off his fear.
The two thumbs above crack open and mismatched eyes gaze down upon your little SOUL. The snarl on his jaw isn’t present, instead replaced by a frown with a tightness you don’t remember seeing on him ever.
For a moment, neither of you move. Error’s Intent, usually a whirlwind of manic rage and glee, is unusually solemn. Quiet. Dare you say, gloomy.
You're reading it wrong.
Your Intent hasn’t changed. Mostly, anyway. There is a shred of hope that blooms in your little pixel mass, a glow that aches for more. You would do anything for a favorite even if it meant giving them the silence they demanded.
“don’t…” Error breathes out, not a shred of the anger you know or the relief you predicted present in his tone. His sockets droop, and his hands draw you closer and closer until the Destroyer hunches around you like a cage.* “… don’t go.”
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