#an error's journey

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 80 - Terrible Secret

Previous - First - Next - We know

Does the 5.1K+ words excuse a three week wait? Also I threw in a lot of old details/questions in this chapter and I love the whole thing.

TW: Implied Dreammare

His soul felt like it was racing with excitement. The thrill of this secret, being able to surprise everyone, made him want to burst. It took a lot of careful planning but he made time for himself away from the castle. He missed the little plots he had. The scheming that went into being Lapse, coming up with something new and big every now and again just to throw Omega or even his friends off his trail.

Firstly, he tested the waters, asking Death to join him in Omega, just a small at-home date in the penthouse still under Lapse’s name. To say the other was surprised would be an understatement. To his credit, Reaper was careful on the subject. Poking gently, making sure he was ready for this new step, even if it was something so small. However, it was nice to feel the loving intent behind everything, and he sorely needed the reminder that this was a bigger step than anything he had done in the past weeks.

They sat contently, tangled in each other's arms as nighttime air and noise drifted in. They kept all the lights off, basking in each other's presence as the glow of neon lights crept into the open room. It was a little unnerving, finally being back in Omega, but it also brought him joy. The initial fear had been worth it. It was a step in the right direction. Moving steadily toward being able to visit Sydney in person, see his workers, and be able to be back as well as be hands-on in both his businesses.

The next step was a little harder since he wanted it to be a complete surprise to Sydney when he came back. So, he warned all his workers but her, giving them all a good scare. Of course, they still don’t know he’s Error, but they were surprised to hear from him at all. And while some were on the fence about keeping his return from Sydney, the surprise of it convinced them.

Then, he did the last preparation of visiting the Outsider and asked Chronic to follow him to the VIP loft. 

He wanted to spend some time there and reacquaint with the bustle and buzz of people at a safe distance, take the small steps and take his time to readjust. And, through his listing of the pros and cons, this gave the most bonuses. He got to spread out all the paperwork he had without fear of eavesdroppers, as well as being able to spend more one on one time with Chronic.

It was difficult to talk with them–at first and still days later, as they seemed to seclude themselves more and more, but Error managed.

The small talk was stale but better than nothing. He was starting to understand the trouble his lovers had when he was lost in his own mind. But, that makes sense, they are one and the same after all.

“‘Ey, Chronic?”

The other hummed softly, unfocused eyes staring out at the cafe, blindly watching people come in and out. It was painfully obvious the other was lost in their own mind, although they may just be talking amongst themself.

Their shadows were more chaotic than ever, almost like his glitches when he was crashing. The room was covered in darkness, even with the overhead lights turned on. The shadows stretch unnaturally, beckoning yet pushing away.

With a sigh, he closed the laptop, setting it down next to himself on the couch. Slowly, he stood up and moved to sit next to Chronic, but as he did, he saw the physical proof of what he already knew. The shadows of the room suddenly sharpened, and the darkness that was crawling its way into the light faded. Chronic’s form became the image of perfection, an identical match to when they first met. 

Green eyes glanced at him before staring blankly at the cafe again. Barely adjusting on the couch, leaning more of their torso over the back, and resting their head on top of their arms.

Error leaned into the spot next to them, looking out at the cafe with them. Customers coming in and out, trading seats, laughing and talking. It was a normal life that had long since passed him.

“...why are you pulling away?” He eventually spoke, just getting straight to the point. Chronic tensed, and for the first time, he watched as they stuttered through their thoughts.

“I- we… stars. Dear, we…” Chronic seemed to practically deflate. Their eye sockets fluttered, barely keeping open as that perfect image fell apart to something more normal. Someone who was just trying to keep it together. Someone like Error.

A shadowy wing stretched out, and there was a long moment of silence.

“We can’t.”

“Chronic, love ya but missed out on a lot of that. I doubt you're saying ‘I can’t pull away’.”

“Dear… you know we can not fuse back together… we can not let ourselves fall to that temptation. It is simply better to pull away.” Chronic moved, staring back at him. Green solid eyes slightly wavering, as were the shadows flickering, threatening. However, this threat was merely the sway of a cat's tail.

Chronic’s eyes were their weirdest trait, but he was finally beginning to understand them. The colors showed who was in control of the fusion and whom he was talking to, although context clues carried most of his theories. Despite centuries apart, they all hadn’t changed much between timelines. 

Purple was for Nightmare, often given away by the subtle change of how Chronic held themself. Posture tighter, and their grace more elegant and noticeable. Yellow was for Dream, although telling they were there was more based on speech than anything else. The little “Dears” and older way of speaking, no “can’t” or “it’s”.

Grim didn’t show himself by color, although it’d be fair to bet it would be blue. The God showed himself through form and speech, wings appearing or a soothing and even alluring talk drifting from the fusion. Then Ink was a little more obvious, form shifting shorter and a much more pronounced talk. Exclaiming and bouncing around with brown or black eyes. Their freckles seemed to be more clear when they were out and about as well.

The Error of Chronic? That was far more difficult. For the moment, he just assumed they had the same speech. Although, this left out the color combinations. For now, Magenta meant all of them, and green showed Dream and Nightmare together. A small tribute to Nim it seemed.

Truthfully, it was painfully obvious now that the two were talking to him. It didn’t help Chronic’s case that Error had borne witness to Nightmare’s masking before, and Dream seemed to not be much better. He really needs to work with Nightmare and Dream then, help them be more selfish. Stray thoughts of times when Nightmare has pushed down his needs for “what has to be done” drifted in and he could only imagine how bad Dream could be.

Keeping gentle eye contact with Chronic, he moved to have one arm hold onto the wing around him, and the other reach out to Chronic. Not touching, simply offering his hand, palm up, and sincere expression on his features.

It’s slow-moving, but trusting as Chronic eases a hand into Error’s. Green eyes continue to stare back at him.

“What do the others think? Since it’s just you two talking to me… and Reaps I guess.” Error cracks a smirk, jerking his head to the wing wrapped around him.

Chronic sighs and their eyes go fuzzy before splitting apart into pixels. All the colors merge in the red background to an odd shade of magenta.

“They’re idiots.” Was all he got for a moment, before a new voice came along, “I, shit- We don’t want to lose you again! We just got all of you back!” Chronic’s other hand moved, clutching tight to Error’s. “Agreed, it was agonizing torture without you all. I think we’d be just as uncoordinated and difficult as when we first fused if we left you again.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and Chronic seems to fall more and more. Expression exasperated, but nothing more is said.

“...What about other me?” Chronic blinked a few times but eventually bowed their head before rising tall, sapphire eyes gazing back at him tiredly.

“What of it, glitch?” There goes the red theory he had. Maybe Hearts was onto something with that nickname.

“Don’t you have an opinion on all this? I… I don’t know how different we are.”

“...I know ya don’t.”

He would, wouldn’t he? Maybe he was the one saying that all this time? Stars was he oblivious, Chronic never spoke in I’s…

“Heh, you were the one saying that all this time?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, I was.” Chronic’s tenseness seemed to slowly slip away, and they moved their gaze to the cafe, their head following, but hands still in his. “In the beginning, we were similar… down to the detail, but after ya n’ Hearts separated, we did too.” What little Error could see of their eyes were fuzzy, but there was a slightly sad smile on their face, barely made out underneath the shadows and freckles.

Chronic continued: “Ya met Core far before I did… Core answered your questions… ya met Grim faster than I had… spent time with him as Sans… Even dated ‘im quicker than me. Ya met Life, met Mercy, and met Magic when I only met ‘em all after I was sane again.” 

It was near mind-shattering to realize how little Chronic had in his past life, all the support and companionship that kept Error going just wasn't there at all for them.

Chronic tilted their head, eyeing Error from the corner of their socket. 

“...I dealt more with that asshole Gaster than you, but Ink made it worthwhile…” Their eyes glitched for a moment before maintaining their blue hue. “I spent my time remembering with Ccino… He n’ I were extremely close in my multiverse… he’s the one that convinced me to open The Outsider…” there’s a waver in their voice, but he moves on, “I didn’t hide away in a realm, my multiverse didn’t have them. I hid away in the antivoid–but got caught, so I moved to the save screen–to get caught again, and everyone found me in the ruins of my timeline…”

Chronic shrugged, breaking eye contact: “After that, to put it briefly, it was awkward… I didn’t have the connection to Dream and Ink like ya, or even Grim. We hung out at Life’s but that was pretty much it. Nightmare and I got close at some point though… What other differences will there be? I don’t know. None of us do. There are countless across all of you.”

The silence stretched once more, but it wasn’t one of tension, it was a sort of quiet relief. To think of the centuries that they had to keep that to themself, maybe even from the rest of the fusion.

“Oh? Error?” Chronic spoke up, barely turning to Error, calming eyes washing an embracing aura of tranquility over him. “Don’t think wrong about this and do not take in our mistakes. I told you of this so you would not be in the dark any longer. No. Other. Reason.” They glare, crowding him in before leaning back, moving their hands to rest in their lap, “I’ve come to terms with the differences over the centuries, and if anything, the only thing you should take from this is to be grateful for what you have…”

Chronic smirked, gentle and wise eyes peering down, “It can always be better, and it can always be worse. We gotta live with what we got and make the most out of it. Take that lesson to soul, alright?”

Chronic didn’t give him a moment to speak, getting up from the couch, the wing wrapped around Error’s shoulders moving to scoop him up and pull him to Chronic’s side. A portal sprung before them, and the ever playful fucker just continued to smirk.

“It’s about time we get heading back, ain’t it?”

“Pft, could’a given me more of a warnin’, you jerk.” He smiled in return before walking through.

The bustling warm cafe turned into the static castle. Dust drifting in the sunlight of the windows and floorboards creaking. The runner carpet scuffled as he made room for Chronic to step through, and he chuckled to himself at the distant noise of steps and voices. A welcomed signal that their return wasn’t unnoticed.

The change was always a little startling, but it had grown to be a comfort. It was nice to have people to return home to, so many that cared so much about him and he returned it likewise.

His lovers rounded the corner, and Ink bolted into his arms.

“You’re back!” They both take a moment to just hold tight as Ink nuzzles close into his neck, and he can feel his soul preening at the loving intent cascading from the shorter.

“Oh, ya missed me, Inky?”

“Obviously!” Ink pulled back, “Where were you two anyway?”

Dream and Nightmare finally caught up, Death likely out on a job and the gang who knew where. It seemed Nightmare was getting more comfortable as of late, happily uncorrupted with a sly smile and a blushing Dream’s arm around his waist.

“I’d bet you were out on those errands of yours again, never did find out what you did on those…” Nightmare’s smile grew wide and innocent.

“Eh, nothing much.” Error shrugged with an innocent smile of his own. “Just a lil’ secret I like to keep up to date on.”

“Oh? And Chronic is allowed to go with you?” Nightmare spoke playfully, turning his attention to Chronic.

“A secret is a secret our dear night.” Chronic playfully spoke, shrugging as they turned and walked away. “We’ll leave ya to deal with that.”

“Well then,” Nightmare pouted, before turning back to Error, “May I ask what it’ll take to learn of this little secret of yours?”

Little was an understatement. At times it took far too much work to keep things under wraps.

He tapped his chin, looking around and about as if thinking. Honestly, he had thought about telling them a couple of times, especially more so now than ever. He wants them to be able to meet Sydney and give Nightmare the chance to see the cafe, and to bring Ccino up there too–but not as Lapse, as Error.

There was still the lingering problem, while Lapse was largely loved, Error was equal parts hated if not entirely despised. He’s not a welcome face and outright telling Dream and Ink would likely hurt them as well as disrupt Omega. Having to choose between keeping Omega safe and him is never a decision he wants to have to make, and he never wants them to come anywhere close to it.

However… there was one way it could work.

“A peace treaty.” Nightmare blinked, and Dream seemed shocked, as did Ink. “An official one, not the truce that you set up while searchin’ for me.”

“Wait- wait. You need a peace treaty to tell us why you’re going out on… errands?” Ink explained, “Isn’t that a little much– I mean, yeah, peace treaties and all, but…” they gestured with their hands vaguely.

“Ta be honest, ’s a little more than errands.” 

Ink looked as if they wanted to speak more, however, Nightmare spoke first.

“That should be reasonably easy.” The God pulled himself from Dream’s side, “Before the truce I was thinking of going straight-” Ink chuckled, catching Nightmare off guard, who huffed a laugh before continuing, “-straight to making a peace treaty, and I may still have the draft.”

“Why didn’t we just do a peace treaty then?” Dream questioned

“It’s got a lot more legal hurdles than a truce, clearing names then working with telling the public and scheduling that and so forth…” Nightmare rolled his eyes, “But I’ve waited for ages to sate this curiosity. Another week or so won’t hurt.”

—--

When he agreed to the peace treaty, he didn’t expect to see this.

All things considered, the peace treaty went well. The Star council was completely on board with the idea, as were the main politicians of Omega. The issues came with planning the announcement ceremony.

The first issue came with the anxiety of it all. While the gang and council had been able to smooth things over, it doesn’t change the fact that for a good decade, the gang was hated and attacked on site–which multiplies into centuries for Nightmare. For Error, it wasn’t as difficult. 

He knows Omega like the back of his hand, and he knows of all the issues the place has. The folk of the city were backless and when push comes to shove, yes they are survivors but they also live off the drama of the council and what few celebrities and politicians there are.

If you make it to the edges of town, as long as you can hold your own, there can be nicer people. Ones that want to live their lives peacefully and truly build a community. He trusts that in the end, Sydney would trust him–Error or Lapse–and would happily help hide Error, Nightmare, and the gang until they could properly get out of Omega.

Who he worried over the most though--Nightmare aside--was Cross.

For all of the trips so far into Omega, xey would go rigid and guard-like. Still as a statue until talked to and always by either Killer’s or Error’s side. He knew they had been alone for a long time before ending up with Nightmare but had never seen how bad it affected them. He had a small hunch, judging by when he came back–since they didn’t seem to make any friends–but this just all-out confirmed things.

Even now, standing behind the curtains as the crowd gathered outside, xey stood still and vigilant.

For the announcement of the truce, they took up most of the park. A stage was built as well as a curtain made room behind with tents for people to gather. He knew Nightmare and Dream had taken one of them to reread through the treaty one more time before the ceremony and Core and Chronic had stolen another. The gang was scattered with the friends they had made in the council, and per Cross’ pushing, Killer had split off as well.

For the time, Error mostly stood off in a corner, an arm wrapped over Cross’ shoulders as they watched whatever people were hired for the event run around and others mingle.

“Hey, kiddo?” Cross stiffened, before relaxing a tad, looking up at Error but glancing at the small crowd every few seconds, “I can tell ya ain’t doing the best.”

Cross winced, hunching in on themself and looking away.

“It’s that obvious?” Error shrugged, he wasn’t going to worry him more.

“Ya worried about people?” Cross didn’t respond, still avoiding his eyes.

He looked back over the crowd, letting his eyes scan through everything and everyone. Most he recognized, few were unknown. He spotted Sydney at the food table laid out as well as some of his workers. Keeping treats and drinks warm or cold as well as making sure everyone was drinking water and not feeling too nervous for the event. A good spider donut always was a great distraction.

He crouched down to nearly Cross’ height, the other snapping xeir attention over and upon seeing each other eye to eye, turned away.

“The curtains are heavy, not easy to move.” He started, to which Cross straightened again, looking out at the impromptu setup they were in, “A sharp bone attack could easily break through it though, looks to only be cotton- but, if you look up…” He saw Cross move to look out of the corner of his socket, “...and to the corner is the connection point. A bone or a blaster could break any of these sections apart for an easy escape.” 

Cross relaxed more. “...I actually got someone here on my side,” Cross turned to look at him, confusion clear on their expression. Understandable since they’d both been standing in the corner since they all first arrived. “One of the workers has my back, and when push comes to shove, she’d hide us and cover our backs.”

With that backup plan in place, Cross finally rested xeir stiff pose, a hesitant smile appearing.

“Thanks, dad.”

“Any time, kid.”

 An employee ran into Core’s tent, before swiftly running back out. “...Think it’s gonna start soon.”

Cross inhaled shakily, before sighing.

“...fun.”

Core stepped out of their tent, Chronic following in toe, and everyone turned to look.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming out and making this possible.” Core began, a brighter smile than he’d ever seen on their face. “From employees and volunteers to the kind workers from The Outsider for coming out to cater,” Sydney nodded with a sly smirk, “to the Star Council and Nightmare and his gang, again, thank you.”

Core clapped their hands together, a hopeful expression overtaking.

“Now! It’s time for us all to get up on stage. They are seats for us all up there, staff will direct which side you are to be on- for the gang, do not fret about what the crowd thinks. They have already been made aware that this is a peaceful event, and just in case security measures have been made.”

One by one, the Stars made their way up the small staircase to the stage, Hearts following Blue with a wink to Error.

Then, with Nightmare in front and Error following, they made their way out from behind the curtain and onto the main stage.

The crowd was loud and bustling but went deadly quiet as they stepped out. Only the smallest of coughs or a few people clearing their throat was heard as they took their seats. Hearts looked oddly out of place, standing behind Blue’s chair, and then an empty chair on Nightmare’s side.

Death, Core, and Chronic all walked out, standing together before the podium.

“Everyone,” Chronic boomed, not even bothering to talk into the mic, their voice easily projecting over the crowd. “Take your seats.”

Somewhat jokingly, Reaper floated in the air, mimicking sitting in a chair. However, what drew everyone’s attention was Hearts.

Leaning down, Hearts gave blue a chaste kiss, before pulling out his ring necklace from under his shirt. Then, he stood back up and walked over to the empty seat on Nightmare’s side.

The crowd erupted in gasps, and Dream and Ink seemed to gawk at Blue who just stared dreamy-eyed after Hearts. The rest of the council looked equally as shocked, while the only reaction on Nightmare’s side was Killer giving Hearts a fist bump.

“Times are changing.” Core spoke clear into the mic, bringing back everyone’s attention. “After centuries of fighting between positivity and negativity; destruction and creation, we can finally have peace. This will bring in a new age, and it’s one I’m excited to see grow and change everything for the better.”

Core moved the mic over to Chronic, who takes it gingerly.

“We have long lived in the background.” Chronic began, speaking carefully into the mic, “It’s safe to say, and there is doubtfully any disagreement, that these sides have torn apart the multiverse.” There are quiet murmurs of agreement across the mass, “At the beginning of the multiverse, and for nearly half of the existence of the Omega Timeline, there were no sides. There were just the gods. Omega was a place for new starts and a hub for the AUs and what few lost their worlds.”

Chronic grew more confident, speaking with purpose.

“Those times were abandoned at some point, and it’s not better. It’s worse. We’ve forgotten that while negativity can be terrible-” Nightmare inhaled, sneakily grabbing Error’s hand, “-it is needed. The powers of the multiverse and its Gods should not be limited to sides, as they work on multiple spectrums. Please, heed this as the peace treaty goes into effect and the multiverse adjusts. It will take time, but it will also be for the better.”

Chronic moved the mic back over to Core, who signaled for Nightmare and Dream to come up.

Together, they started to read out the peace treaty, and he could see them hold their hands together behind the podium.

“I, Nightmare, promise to stop the spread of negativity and let things occur naturally. Negativity can be evil, but it is nature.” He could barely make out Nightmare gripping tighter, and Dream clenching his hand back, “It is the fight or flight I have had to live with for the entirety of my long life, and it’s a force that many of you have likely experienced. It’s the anxiety that manifests in us, it’s the anger we feel for right and wrong reasons. It cannot be defined as one simple thing as we have for so long. It is not the evil that it is presented as. It is the push that gives our lives the greatest highs after we have felt at our lowest.”

Dream nodded, a bright genuine smile stretching from cheek to cheek.

“I, Dream, promise to stop the spread of positivity and let things occur naturally.” There were distraught murmurs amongst the crowd, but Dream held fast. Raising a hand to signal for silence with a high chin, he continued, “Positivity makes us happy, but it can be evil. People can be happy doing cruel, unspeakable things. In addition, too much happiness prevents the process of life. It takes away grieving,” Dream turned to look at Nightmare, “and undermines the loss of loved ones. It takes away the guilt of doing something wrong, the anger at somebody wrong, and it can make us forget to be thankful for what we have, by forgetting what was lost.”

With that final note, together the two raised their joined hands, showing their unity to everyone. The crowd begins to boom as they clap, but the show was not over.

Nightmare slowly bows his head sighing softly, barely heard on the mic, and the negativity covering him drips away. When the negativity is fully gone, Nega reforms next to Nightmare, who raises his head.

Nightmare extends a hand, turning to look at Nega, and the crowd, as well as the star council, go silent in shock. The large gaping hole in the side of Nightmare’s skull settled in their minds. It spoke volumes of how Nightmare's trust for Dream had grown, his entire blind side facing the crowd that had caused him so much anxiety the past days.

Nega takes Nightmare's hand, and the two raise it together.

It’s quiet for a moment, but slowly, hesitant claps start, before it's thundering with applause. Workers start to cue them behind the stage, and they all gather by the snack bar.

Before any conversation can start, even before Hearts can make his way back to Blue, a council member barrels into Nightmare’s arms.

"My boy! Oh- I missed ya!" Nightmare laughs, hugging Sci back. Everyone’s mouths fell to the floor, except for Error.

"So this is what ya meant by saying Sci took ya in. Wow 'mare, can't believe ya hid ya dad from us."

"Well, there's the small problem of-"

"Oh? Night, have ya finally found yourself someone…” Sci looks over at Ink, Death, and Dream, “...Someones? Why didn't you tell me!"

"That problem."

“Wha- Sci??” Dream finally speaks up, “When? When?!” Tone exasperated and surprised.

“Oh, I took Nightmare in ages ago! I think you were in stone at the time…” Sci recounts with a laugh, “We haven’t been able to meet up since all of this craziness started, but I’m glad I can finally see you again!”

“Yes, yes, I’m glad to see you too… but there was an initial reason for this peace treaty.” Nightmare directs his attention to Error. “Can you finally tell us this big secret of yours? All the errands??”

Error huffs a laugh, crossing his arms.

“I’m getting put on the spot now, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are. I spoke in front of that crowd, you blab your secret in front of a few dozen people.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Error shrugged, “In my defense, all of you are more likely to kill me over this than that crowd.”

The gang shifts from side to side, and the star council is even more so confused. All of them–Dream and Ink aside–trying to turn their back on the conversation in favor of the food table, but still looking back for the gossip. The confusion of Hearts and Blue gone for the moment in favor of Error.

“Okay, really. How bad can it be?” Ink speaks up, a little pout on his face.

With a sigh, Error takes off his glasses, pocketing them, and pulls out his second pair and those little cards for the VIP loft of the outsider.

Cross’ eyes go wide and he stares at Error, but no one else quite understands. He can see Sydney peering at him from behind the food table.

“...Cards for the outsider? You know Mode?” Dream began hesitantly.

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he pulls the Omega ID for Lapse from one of his pockets and sets it on the table with the glasses.

No one says anything still, but Ink and Dream seem to be piecing things together.

“I- …I don’t understand.” Dream eventually stutters.

“Oh stars, fine.” And he pulls up the panel for Lapse, letting all of them see it as he clicks the button.

His body glitches, and an unimpressed Lapse Divinity Mode in Error’s clothes stands before them. The room is shocked into silence, and one of his workers pouring a coffee even stops. If everyone keeps dropping their jaws like this they’ll need to tie it to their head. “Ya get it now?”

The room stays in silence, until Sydney walks up.

“Boss?”

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t tell ya… or came back sooner.”

“No, no. Again, don’t worry- don’t even think about it… but, damn.” She folds two of her arms as her third rests on her hip, “Honestly… Nah, this makes sense. Guessing that secret menu of yours has a backstory with these folks?”

The gang finally pulls themselves together, and Killer yells: “You’re Lapse D. Mode?!!”

“I thought you said you didn’t know him!” Dust follows

Error sighs, laughing as everyone recovers. Death just smiles slyly, off to the side, which Dream and Ink begin to notice.

“Ye—eah, it was pretty hard to cover up. I still don’t know how I managed it. I even made Dream’s outfit at the base.” Dream’s eyes go wider, and he just covers his face as some moments start to click in. “Problems over there, pretty boy?”

“...Shut. Up.” Is all Dream musters, but the bright yellow peeking out from behind his hands is enough reward.

-----

THEY FINALLY KNOW ERROR IS LAPSE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGES

Also: I wanted to share the notes I have for this chapter. Not exactly what happened, but still funny.

For the ceremony, Hearts starts off at Blue's side, attached to his arm. But as Dream and Nightmare step up and ask everyone to get to their places, the crowd gasps as Hearts pecks Blue on the cheek and moves to stand with the gang. Blue watches with a lovestruck gaze as Hearts walks away. Ink and Dream gawk at Blue who just shrugs innocently, fiddling with his ring. - There is a celebration afterwards, and before anyone can pester Error with questions, Sci sprints over embracing Nightmare. "My boy! Oh- I missed ya!" Nightmare laughs, hugging Sci back. Everyone is confused, especially Dream. Error is only confused for a moment before speaking up: "So this is what ya meant by saying Sci took ya in. Wow 'mare, can't believe ya hid ya dad from us." "Well there's the small problem of-" "Oh? Night, have ya finally found yourself someone... someones? Why didn't you tell me!" "That problem." - He doesn't really reveal it. Just dramatically sighs and rolls his eyes, before pulling up a panel and clicking a button. Switching his form to a normal Sans, pulling a wallet and his other glasses out of his pocket and shrugging as the Star Sans look aghast at him being Lapse D. Mode. Cobalt is the most shocked by far, and even reboots for a moment. Blue pulls him away carefully and helps him through it, so does Hearts. Cross is stuttering in the background and Error just casually strides up as Lapse and just chuckles, "How's it goin, Chrome?" Mention in notes of post-Because this is too damn funny to keep to just us.

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 80 #error sans #ink sans #nightmare sans #dream sans #killer sans #cross sans #dust sans #sydney muffet #sci sans #swap sans #blue x lust #blue x hearts #core frisk #chronic sans #chronic error #reaper sans

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 79

Previous - First - Next - We know

Another day, more emails. It was a mix of calming and frustrating. Centuries of being immortal, yet here he was acting like he was just another mortal checking through his emails and trying to get through the work day. Reading through all of them was a pain, but handfuls were wholesome. Sydney kept him updated on whatever employee drama was happening and the growing fanmail was always nice to see in the heaps of trash. 

Omega for the time all agreed that Lapse had some horrible accident of some sort happened caused him to pull away, although rumors still spread of exactly what. Error just had to nod and roll his eyes as Ink tried to explain all the rumors to him. Anything from family tragedy to a secret lover, although, technically neither of those were wrong.

Even Dream talked about Lapse at times, but less of the rumors and of the times they hung out and how much Dream missed him. It was heartwarming to hear Dream talking about all the good times they had, but in the end, he just had to shrug with a smile, saying how good of a guy he sounded.

All of the stories just reminded him of everything he left behind as Lapse, and he desperately wanted to make it to the cafe in person, but it would be hard. He’d gotten better with smaller rooms, so that wasn’t much of an issue anymore. He’d even gotten to the point where he was nearly ready to move back into his room, back to his little safety corner. The main concern he had was making the time to leave for so long.

He could convince Death to be by his side since he and Ccino knew about Lapse, but then he had to make time away from everyone else as Error. Or he could convince Reaper to do a date cover story? That could probably work…

“You’re really lost in thought, aren’t you?” Hearts’ voice chuckled, pulling him from his thoughts, “Welcome back to the mortal realm, Error.”

“Uh… yeah. Sorry.” He spoke slowly, closing his laptop and setting it to the side.

“Oh, no need for that, darling. Probably lots in that amazing skull of yours- but, to the point, I’ve been wanting to talk.” Hearts smiled softly, “You okay with my office? Want a place that Ink and Dream won’t really walk in on.”

“Oh-” While Nightmare and Death knew of his past with Hearts, Dream and Ink had yet to–and were still unaware of Hearts' alliance to Nightmare, “Yeah, I should be able to.”

In a short time, they made it up to Hearts office. The place had hardly changed since last he was in there, the room still decently large, Hearts desk in a corner and the closet turned into its own personal snack station. Hearts pulled the both of them over to some bean bag chairs in the corner, handing Error some chocolate and settling in before starting up the conversation.

“I figured since your memories are over and you’re doing better, it’s about time I answered whatever question about the past you have, and let you know what things I had a hand in.”

“...What all did you help with?”

“Surprisingly? Not a lot.” Hearts huffed a laugh, “I was almost as clueless as you, the only thing I knew was not to explain your mistake, whatever it is, and that if I did, you would spend ages wasting your life trying to find a different answer. I’d lose you, everyone around you would lose you…” Hearts sighed, “The only thing I had a hand in aside from teaching you about the multiverse and Omega was Gaster.”

Error eyes finally drifted to meet Hearts, and the other’s expression was sincere as ever. His intent honest and kind, “Some Gasters are downright horrible, to everyone or just their sons, if they are connected to the Sans and Papyrus at all… Most are just complicated people like anyone else, sometimes doing bad things and sometimes good… a lucky few pull themselves back before they get to that point. I was tasked with letting Gaster know of his coming death, and he did what Core expected.” Hearts smiled wide and genuine, “He spent as much of his last time with you and everyone else in the underground as he could.”

Error’s cheeks began to burn, but he still smiled, nibbling away at his chocolate. “He was a great guy, and despite what you probably think, he’d be proud of you.”

I honestly don’t care if you never have a lover, or if you make a lot of friends, I just want you to be happy and have people that you can fall back on and trust.

“Yeah… he would.” He eventually murmured.

They basked in silence for a time, before a question came to Error. “What… how’d you do after we broke up?” Hearts raised a brow, a shocked expression, “I- I just heard about you building up Omega, and now you’re engaged to Blue… might as well ask.”

“Pfft, oh.” Hearts chuckled, “Just… wasn’t expecting that.” He mulled over it for a moment, before explaining, “Well, honestly. Life was fucking shit, I probably wouldn't have gotten through it without Classic and Fell. I poured all the emotion I had into Omega, building everything up.”

Hearts sighed like a weight was coming off his chest, “A couple of things at Omega that got their names because of you, actually. There's Sapphire avenue, Passion park, and Wingdings square.” Hearts listed, “Blue… Well, he came along a little later. About the time you were Geno, I think.” 

Hearts laughed softly, “He was–and still is–kind to me, pulling me away from work and convincing me to rest. He helped me when everyone in my AU passed away, and eventually Honey and Blue sort of took me in.”

Hearts smile went wider, a blush on his cheeks, “Stars, I spent far too many nights in Blue’s bed before we actually became a couple… but my blue-bear fought away whatever night terrors I had… although it still took a fair decade for me to accept how much I loved him. And then Cobalt was a happy addition a few centuries ago.”

Hearts looked up, locking eyes, “I know it’s a little touchy… but, I know he would like to talk to you too.”

Cobalt wanted to talk? With him? Was he even ready for that?

Even if Ink and Dream insisted that Cobalt didn’t blame him, there was still some guilt in his soul from it. Not that pit that pulled him in, but rock that he could barely swallow down.

“Error?” Hearts spoke up, pulling him from his thoughts again, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

“No. No- I… he at least deserves to speak to me… especially since I’ve been avoiding him for so long…”

Hearts nodded, standing up and creating a portal in front of them, letting Error walk through first. The farm was as grand as ever, the bright sunny day near blinding. Hearts appeared by his side, and with a kind smile, turned and walked away, making a small “follow me” gesture.

Cobalt and Blue worked inside, both talking happily while grooming the horses, the little calf Spots from last time snoozing away at Cobalt’s feet. The chicken clucked and balked as Hearts walked forward towards them, and Error lingered at the doorway.

He could see Cobalt hug Hearts, and Blue walking over to pull Hearts in for a chaste kiss before hugging him close as well. As the two lingered in their hug, Error’s eyes drifted to Cobalt, standing with a hesitant smile.

Error did his best to return it, and Cobalt seemed to take it as an invitation to walk over.

“Hey… Error.”

“...Uhm, hey…” Cobalt huffed a laugh, “...uh, what?”

“Sorry, just weird to see how you’ve changed, how we’ve both changed really.” Cobalt laughed further, and Error hesitantly chuckled along with him, “But, despite all of that… I hope you know I don’t hate you.” Cobalt spoke honestly, his intent brimming with it. “And in a joking way, guess I was kinda right? Friendship was your weakness.”

“Your true weakness! That weakness? Friendship!” He feels the crash come on and leave faster than the last, he blinks away the glitches to no avail. Sans continues to talk, “Ah-ha! Knew it! But that’s okay! I’m here! I’ll help by being your first friend! C’mere Error! Gimme a big new friend hug!”

The laugh bubbles up and out before he can even process it, and Cobalt joins in with him.

When they both eventually calm down, Cobalt continues, “Despite all these sides and everything, it was nice to hear about you finally healing from Hearts. It was… horrible in that place. Both of us deserve better. And from the sounds of it, you found a lot better!” Cobalt smiled wide, and for a moment, he could practically see his Papyrus doing the same, “Glad you could help out Dream and Ink too. Both of them are always working so hard, but you and Nightmare do them good.” 

“Eh, we try.”

“Mweheheh, better than nothing!”

#undertale #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 79 #error sans #lust sans #hearts sans #underswap sans #blue sans #berror sans

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 77 - Their legacy

Previous - First - Next - We know

TW: Implied Dreammare

There was a certain peace and serenity in the broken depths of his realm.

The infinite reaches of his magic pocket space was worse than last. Any places that held any semblance of shape were dismantled. All of it broke down until it was unrecognizable. He could barely tell where the rubble of his lighthouse was, the roots of the tree, and shards from the frozen lake.

The abyss was endless and the sound deafening with how quiet it was, even the shuffle of him moving couldn’t break the trance of tranquility he found himself in. It had been so long since he wasn’t burdened by the stress of the outside. So long of pain and hurt. So long of too much. Yet, his soul and mind still ached.

His soul was raining with sorrow. No matter where his thoughts lead him he stepped in the puddles of anguish. He couldn’t escape the downpour or the thunders of negativity. The storm seemed to have no end, and as time dragged on his soul and thoughts fogged, his vision dusting.

In the safety of his realm, for the first time since his last reboot, Error’s sockets drifted closed.

His eyes flew back open, back in his realm again, but it was different. Barren of personality. Devoid of the treasures he had added to it, but just as broken. The remnants of the floating island drifted like a wreck in the sea, all the hard work destroyed. A shadow stood on a small rock in the distance, and with nothing better to do, Error stood and slowly made his way over.

Rock by rock, he slowly made his way over, the fuzzy figure didn’t get any sharper. The shadows thickened as he got closer.

When he could practically reach out and touch, the shadow began to walk away.

When the shadow was some distance away again they stopped, and Error obediently followed again. The next time the shadow began to walk, Error didn’t wait, following the short distance away.

His focus remained on the figure, but as they walked, the background morphed. His beautiful and comfortable realm slowly transitioned.

The rocks and pitiful excuses of islands started to become sturdier. Easier to walk on. The galaxy changed from purples and blues to green. The figure began to change as well, solidifying and splitting apart. The tall shadow fell below his height, the shadows that peeled off of the shorter dashing ahead of them.

He stayed focused on the figure in front of him.

He didn’t even realize when the background changed to a forest, hardly aware when it opened to a valley, a large mansion before him–eerily recognizable, but unfamiliar.

Several more figures stood in front of the mansion, bathed in the blue light of a bright day. They were different then what he was used to, but he would always be able to recognize Nightmare’s souls. Dream’s kind eyes, Reaper’s calming presence, and Ink’s bouncing energy.

The figure he had been following suddenly shifted, a shorter copy of him running forward, practically leaping in the copies of his lovers.

His soul panged, and dust clouded a little more of his vision. Wasn’t there a saying about guilt eating away at people? Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be literal.

The scene faded to black, then abruptly the sky was grey and the ground dead. Murky with dust and blood. The copies of his team sat in a tight circle, Death lingering a little away–as if not wanting to get too close, and Error stepped closer.

The copy of him lay on the ground, the painful red scar shining brightly over his clothes, his soul floating above him. The soul flickered and glitched, but it didn’t take a genius to see that the copy was melting and dusting. Falling to pieces in the finished battle scene.

He could barely hear footsteps in the distance, and Core watched on, expression much more excited than Error had ever seen. He knew Core was pretty fucked up in the head but excited to watch him die? That wasn’t as low as he had seen them go, considering they had literally constructed nearly his whole life, but it still was low.

A bright light flashed the dark scene, and Error turned to see his team's souls shining, Ink’s empty void of a ribcage even flickering with some ghostly apparition. Then, as sudden as it was, the light left and all five of them crumbled to dust.

From the dust, a dark shadow rose, a familiar face standing dazedly. Core’s excited face had long since dropped to one of disappointment.

“Error.” Core spoke flatly, eyes focused on the shadow. For a moment, he was convinced Core had actually made it into whatever dream this was, but that was not the same Core he knew now.

The Core he knew was a blunt jerk. A mastermind that put Nightmare to shame. Someone that didn’t express themself. The remains of a person. The facade of a child that had long since died. 

The shadows pixeled eyes blinked trying desperately to focus.

“What-? Core?! You can’t be serious- This is as serious as it gets. May we have a moment?” The shadow quickly spoke, different voices trying to talk over each other and failing.

“As much as I would love to wait another eternity…” Core grit out, tipping their head sarcastically, “ …You didn’t even get to reach the initial mistake I was trying to get you not to make! You were supposed to-!”

The rest of the words were static, and Chronic’s eyes were wide with shock and he could feel the guilt and negativity wafting from their uncontrolled aura. It made his soul clench further.

Core seemed to finish their rant, anger burning out as soon as it started.

“Core… I am- we are so sorry… We did not know-”

“You weren’t supposed to. If I coordinated everything you did it wouldn’t work for the right end. Even if you were willing.” Core sighed, hundreds of screens suddenly appearing before them with the simple tap of an invisible panel.

The whole area was surrounded by black boxes and white text. Stats of the multiverse, of other multiverses, of characters and outcodes alike. Core conducted their personal symphony, moving the screens around until only a few were left before them.

One screen seemed to hold a journal, an unfinished entry marked with a long string of numbers. How long had Core been at this? How many multiverses were sacrificed for Core to try and reach this “perfect end” of theirs?

Their other panels seemed less important, an inventory with few belongings–just a photo and a few drawings–and a check of Chronic. He knew their stats well. He could feel the LV and power they held back. The aura they carefully kept controlled. However, while the stats were the same, the check was not what he expected at all.

It was definitely Chronic before them, he could recognize that bastard anywhere, but the name of the check was jumbled. Multiple names were layered over each other. He could see the letters for Nightmare’s, the short overlay of Ink’s, the jumble of his name and Dream’s together, and the length of Grim Reaper’s.

The check read simply, “*The failed team. A confused fusion. A powerful god. *They are confused and don’t mean to disappoint. They did what was best in the moment.”

The fourth panel was the most worrisome. Not even a panel at all, but a glowing purple button, one he has felt the power of within Core for centuries, one that he lost track of ages ago.

“Sans. Trust me, you do not want this burden… Even being the keeper of such a thing until it’s to be returned to its proper owner is a terrible fate.”

OVERWRITE floated before them and Core sighed, hand-held still and poised over the button.

“Error, Dream, Nightmare, Ink, Grim, I will give all of you one more chance, but you will not like it.” Core began. Their head moved up from where they had been staring directly at the button.

Their arm fell, and Core stood tall and stiff. “I will let you follow me into the next multiverse, as I need to reset this one, but you have to help me.” The fusion seemed confused, and Core continued, “I will have to take pieces of your soul, to make the new Sans, Nim, Ink, and the star that will become Grim. While I direct Error and help Grim in the early years of the multiverse, I will need your help to set things up and keep the multiverse in balance.”

“Wait- Wait-! You’re going to take apart mine-his-theirs? Our souls?!” The fusion stuttered, uncoordinated.

“Yes, I cannot remake the powers of the original Error nor the others, so I have to reuse the same character each time… due to your fusion, this will be more troublesome… I hope the mixed powers don’t affect the next team that much…” Core thought aloud.

“But- the taking apart the souls thing?” One voice spoke up, Ink’s voice muddled but identifiable.

“Well, I would imagine that your fusion would never feel correct ever again. I cannot allow you all to fuse together again, as it would disrupt the multiverse and by the time you could fuse together–the two sets of multiverse timeline memories would completely jumble your memory. I couldn’t even make a guess at how long you’d stay out of commission, and the multiverse would fall to pieces while you would be out.”

Chronic’s expression dropped to disbelief and further shock, blank yet full of emotion.

“...Despite that,” Chronic looked over at Core again, “Perhaps it could give you closure? You would have a unique eye that would be able to help out the entire multiverse. You could help make sure that everyone is sure of their actions, that they don’t make the same mistake again.”

Core’s voice seemed to fill with hope, and Chronic’s eyes finally calmed, “We could make sure that the next multiverse is the very end. Everyone will have their happy end, and this will be the last OVERWRITE.”

That seemed to convince Chronic, and Error watched as the fusion staggered clumsily forward–nothing like the grace he was so used to seeing from them–before shaking Core’s hand.

The dream faded to black again, and the Chronic and Core he knew now stood before him.

Chronic’s golden pendant pulsed before them, their eyes a perfect magenta, and their aura released for the first time in Error’s presence. He could feel the fullness of their intent, the bittersweet love and sorrow that filled their souls. For such a tall figure, at that moment they seemed so small, so unsure. It was unsettling.

Core stood calmly next to them. Their unkempt hair falling messily over their shoulders, expression relaxed, their aged features prominent in the fake save screen-like space, and their eyes sincere. He had never seen Core so easy-going and relaxed, they seemed more sure than ever that this will be the last multiverse.

That is if this dream wasn’t just some fabrication of his negative-filled mind.

“Error,” He stayed focused on Core, “When the time comes, I am sure you will know what mistake not to make… both of them.” Core laughed softly, and Chronic chuckled along with them.

If Chronic can find solace even after dooming their multiverse, then maybe there was hope for him after all. “...I’ll see you in due time.” Core finally finished, and the dream faded to reality.

It was uncomfortable waking up, his bones ached from being hunched over for so long. His mind was foggy but the dream was still clear. He struggled to grasp any obvious thought.

That explained why he felt so connected to his lovers then… Grim’s soulmate nickname was far more literal than he thought.

As the fog cleared, his senses spread back out, encompassing the broken pieces of his realm again.

He barely felt the presence of anyone else, but Nightmare’s souls gave him away. Chronic did say he would help them…

But did he deserve it?

Chronic was a fusion of kind and caring people–even with an Error piloting it. All of the sudden the switching voices and countless powers made sense, even being able to get into his realm without needing Error to let them in. Kind of hard to keep your own soul out of your realm–the physical manifestation of your soul.

He looked up, watching as Dream, Nightmare, Ink, and Death all tried to navigate the wasteland.

He really was broken then, just like the voices loved to tell him. Down to his very soul. Could he even come back from this? Was it possible?

He could feel it when Nightmare’s eye landed on him, he didn’t need to be able to see the other clearly to tell. He could hear the loud commotion of Nightmare’s discovery even over the chaotic tranquility.

Ink leaped and bounced over as Grim flew Dream and Nightmare closer.

They really cared that much, didn’t they? Even when it was impossible to tell if he could ever come back. Even as he dusted and melted before everyone's eyes. Even after he destroyed the multiverse and pulled it apart for centuries. Even after he locked Cobalt alone in the Antivoid for who knew how long. Even after he hurt them over and over.

Nightmare must’ve picked up on his emotions, as he seemed to whisper to Reaper.

Death slowed, and in turn Ink did as well. They all stopped some distance away, and Nightmare carefully and slowly made his way closer.

It was a tense silence as they met socket to socket. The gaze Nightmare held him with was still as gentle and reassuring as ever, but the bowl Nightmare was trying to hold was nothing but broken shards and crumbs. Even that amazing caress didn’t help.

Nightmare slowly released his aura, and he could feel the calming and caring presence Dream used to talk about. Back before Nightmare was corrupted, far back to when the negative guardian’s aura pulled away negative emotions and soothed them instead of powering the negativity and making the others fall victim to themselves.

Dream did the same, a much less powerful but still soft and caring intent filling the space.

The thoughts slowly became less suffocating, the tight grip of his little ball formation falling, and the feel of their souls not as overwhelming.

Still, no one said anything, even when Error’s cheeks began to burn with the telltale signs of his tears.

Nightmare slowly inched closer, making sure Error was well aware of him approaching, before sitting in front of Error. Dream, Ink, and Death drifted closer, but were careful to not overwhelm him. His frown curved into a small hesitant smile, and the arm he didn’t even know was covering his skull untensed, falling to the floor.

Nightmare slowly moved again, carefully taking Error’s trembling and scarred hand into one of his own. Slowly and softly, the guardian smoothed a thumb over the old bones, gently caressing. A smile graced Nightmare’s expression. The tense silence fell to quiet.

Error’s small smile fell, and Nightmare seemed confused.

“...I don’t deserve ya all.” His hands trembled more, inching back to his ball, but Nightmare held on. Just like he said he would. Just like he had proved he would time and time again.

Looking back at that wonderful purple eye, it was sharp with understanding. No pity. No disappointment. Maybe some concern. But nothing more.

“…That’s okay.” Nightmare finally spoke, that charming voice soothing the aches and pain in his soul, the clenching terror starting to release.

“We…” Dream spoke up, and Error turned to him. Dream blushed brightly, breath hitching, but keeping eye contact, “We… Uhm… we still- still low… love…” Dream stuttered out, and everyone patiently waited as he worked through it, even as Error’s tears kicked back up again. Eventually, Dream closed his eyes as his brows tensed in focus, “...We still love you. Eve- even if you don’t think you deserve it…”

He wasn’t sure if it hurt or healed his soul more to hear that, distant echoes of the realm moving in the distance. Ink’s eyes sparked with emotion.

“...even after everything I’ve done?”

“Oh-! Kitten!” Ink exclaimed, making everyone jump. Ink fell to sit next to Error, “Can I hug you- please?”

He breathed out a nervous chuckle at Ink’s sudden exclamation before clenching his jaw, tears welling up and spilling more and more. His soul started to calm, and finally, he let his other arm unclench from his ball, opening to Ink.

To Ink’s credit, they were careful and slow, making sure Error was comfortable, before hugging tight.

“Stars, I love you–both of us really--being dumb, but we’ve talked about this!” Ink sighed, nuzzling close and burrowing himself in Error’s scarf. “...you weren’t yourself back then… Even the first time we were dating, you never fully recovered your sanity. But I didn’t care… no matter what you did. It’s not your fault. Yeah- there are some consequences to some actions, but you don’t have to carry all this… guilt?” Ink poked her skull up, catching Nightmare’s eye, who nodded. “Carry this guilt with you.” Ink affirmed.

The tears just fell harder.

“But I- I… I hurt-”

“You didn’t mean to hurt us, Soul. You’re okay.” Death spoke up, his voice wonderful to hear after him being so quiet for so long. Everything he loved about all of them had been gone from him for so long. But he probably deserved that too.

“I… uh-” His voice choked up, “...not you all…” He finally grit out, he could feel his soul drop as he finally said the words: “I hurt Cobalt… tore him from his home- practically tortured him… left him alone in the Antivoid…”

The silence was short, Dream quickly filling it.

“Error, we heard a much different story than that.” Dream started, a face of confusion, “Ink and I helped Cobalt in his early years adjusting… while the Antivoid may have been torture, yes, you weren’t.”

“Yeah, you weren’t yourself back then, remember?” Ink snuggled close into his scarf again, “I’ve known it, Cobalt knew it, I filled Goldy in on it… later told Songbird and Cressy…” Ink pulled back, slowly moving their hands towards Error’s skull, and holding his skull when Error nodded, “...It’s okay, Error. We still love you. Always have, always will.” And then Ink leaned forward, chastely kissing him before just resting their foreheads against each other.

It was still a lot to process. Now that it was said and done, it felt laughable how easy all of this could’ve been.

“You don’ gotta be perfect with us, love.” Nightmare slurred, wincing a little as he hit the chip in his skull. Error's tears came back stronger than before, but this time, he smiled wide.

He still had worries, but for a moment, he didn’t have to be perfect. Being Core’s main character can wait a little bit. The mistake can wait. He just wants to hold his lovers close and fall asleep in their embrace.

With a slight smirk, he unwrapped his arm from Ink and pulled at a trail of his tears, smirking further at Death’s comical "oh shit" expression and Dream’s confusion. Carefully, fully expressing his gentle intent, he wrapped up their souls and brought them closer, even tugging Nightmare closer.

Ink smiled, pulling back to shuffle and pull Death and Dream closer, properly getting them close and cuddled on the cracked and uneven ground.

While his lovers moved around, he looked out at his realm. When had it started to piece together again?

The more prominent things were still mostly rubble, but the floating island pulled itself back together, his lake rippling as distant pieces clicked back in place. His lighthouse was still in ruins, but the stairs were intact, the light at the top a beacon of hope in the dark, his tree doubly so.

Nightmare slotted himself next to Error, curling close and resting against Error’s chest as Ink and Dream hesitantly curled up between all of them, Ink giggling as Death’s wings tickled and blanketed them all.

Nightmare lifted his skull, whispering into the side of Error’s skull:

“We’ll always be here for you.”

“...I know.” Nightmare chuckled, pecking Error’s cheek before relaxing.

He could feel Chronic’s distant presence in the realm, and finally, he let out a breath. Relaxing as well with all his soulmates close by.

-

Was it worth the wait? X}

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #aej #an error's journey #error sans #ink sans #nightmare sans #dream sans #reaper sans #chronic sans #chronic error #core frisk #error x nightmare x dream x ink x reaper #elements

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 76

Previous - First - Next - We know

Shorter chapter just because I feel the next bit fits better as its own personal chapter. Plus it's gonna be long and I would like to get into bed before 4am. At least right now I consider 2am reasonable. MORE NOTES AT END

The plan was finally in place. It hurt to leave them, but he had to. He couldn’t pull them down with him, not when all of them were so amazing–and even more so together. They could do even better without him.

As much as he wanted to escape to the antivoid, he didn’t want to forget again. He wasn’t ready to fully let go of them. He wanted to keep the happy memories of them, as selfish as it was. Always so selfish–but he didn’t want to start over. He deserves all this negativity. A somewhat suitable punishment for his crimes, the voices were happy to bring up that he deserves worse over and over.

He just wanted to get away from everyone else. There was the void–but he didn’t want everyone to forget him either. Despite the fucked up mess of his mind, he knew they couldn’t be happy that way. If he were to suddenly disappear, it would hurt them, but eventually, they had to stop looking. Eventually, they would give up. When they did, they would have the memories of the past to help them. To ease the loss.

Any other place would be too loud, too much, and far too easy to break into. No, he had to lock himself in his realm. Make sure they could never get in, and make sure he could never hurt them ever again. He had no clue if Core could get in, and he could faintly remember Chronic getting in on their own before–but he could deal with that. As long as he didn’t hurt his lovers again.

The most difficult part wasn’t figuring out what to do, it was finding the right moment to do it. Hour upon hours Error thought over and over when he could get away: What moment would work best for him to leave without immediate notice?

If he left during the night, while they were all asleep, they would surely know. Nightmare and Dream were surprisingly light sleepers, and Ink didn’t sleep all the time either. Then all of them were in tune with his soul and knew it by heart, they would know if he left even if it was just leaving the room.

He would just leave from the greenhouse, he was there practically all day–but there was always someone outside now. Dream gardening, Ink painting, Death soaking up the sun–surprising but he is fundamentally a bird, and Nightmare would do an evening walk around the area before grabbing Error for the night. Then the gang was always out and about, with so little to do, they started playing sports outside, even finding some lake out in the forest surrounding the castle. While they had their pool day, Nightmare stuck by him at the greenhouse. Some excuse that his bones were still healing and the bandages wouldn’t mix well with water and exercise.

He wasn’t an idiot. As much as he does act dumb at times for the shits and giggles or as a cover, he knew Nightmare had caught on. It was not a simple coincidence that every time someone went into the castle–or ever made their way to it–someone would come out. Most of his senses may be lost to the voices, but he can still feel souls just as well as he used to–although it was a shock to feel one from Ink. Probably Chronic’s doing. Both Nightmare and they have plenty of souls, one off their back would more likely help than hurt. But that was something that he would have to deal with unanswered.

The only times he could get any opening from was meals. Those times left one person to watch over him, Chronic gazing from the back porch. Chronic was the only one that had the best chance of stopping him, but they were also the only one he had the best chance of escaping.

Chronic could weasel their way into anything, letting their voice drift and whisper and convince Error to put off leaving for another day. Horror was baking tonight, chocolate chip cookies. Cross wanted to read with him. Hearts was bringing out some fabrics to try and help with his texture issues. Killer wanted to bring out the kittens to play and explore. Dust just perfected a soul relaxer, blissfully easing any pains. Ink managed to make a blanket and wanted to show it off. Dream had found some new plants that made the most beautiful tea. Nightmare was going to take him out on a walk.

He put it off for days and days, but each day hurt more. They were doing everything in their power to give him a reason to stay, trying to find anything that could convince him it was worth it to stay. Day after day it just hurt his soul more and more. After a few weeks, he could swear he felt his soul cracking and falling apart.

He could feel himself dusting at times, watching as the particles glitched on and off his body. His soul was giving up on him, but he still couldn’t die.

When Chronic saw the glitching particles, they said nothing. For once, they had nothing at all to say. No reason for him to stay. No “one more day”. Instead, they offered a hand and helped Error up.

It was picture-perfect. The sun was just below the horizon, casting everything in a golden glow. It painted Chronic in a much kinder light than Error was used to.

He could see sparks of yellow in their magenta eyes, their smoking cheeks much softer, and the flames of their body cooled like a fire burning out. Tame, peaceful, surrendered. Waiting for the wind to sweep it out or someone to build it back up.

He still couldn’t find it in his soul to care, and his body glitched more, dust wafting in the air.

Chronic sighed, before taking Error’s hands in their own, another pair of limbs forming from their shadows and gently holding his shoulder and back, caressing him lovingly. For once, it didn’t hurt.

“We can’t stop you. We know that, and we’re sure you know it as well… but just because we cannot stop you, does not mean we will not help the others. That we will not help your team.” Something in his expression must’ve changed because Chronic's sorrowful frown turned to a serious line, “You have a week. Just one. Before we come after you. Sit on things, think on things, and we will see you in your dreams.”

The pair of arms holding him dropped, and the hands holding his own sparked with the colors of a murky rainbow. Blue, brown, green, and red flash for a moment before fading like miniature fireworks.

A portal opened below his feet, and he fell into his realm.

-

Blood for the blood god. Rest in peace king. (I will admit this chapter was ridiculously late because I was rewatching his old streams)

I made an analogy on ao3 that I feel is worth copy pasting so enjoy:

Also the pawn thing from the summary? If this were a chest board, the big bag unnamed evil would be the white queen. Core a white king (rebellious against the queen and acting as another black king) Error a black Queen (not bc of crayon queen funny enough) Chronic black king, then the gang + blue/hearts/cobalt black pawns, Cross I have to leave unnamed for lore purposes--for now I will just say grey knight, Nightmare and Dream black bishops, Death a knight, and Ink a rook.

Take that as you will I'll do further explanation after the series is over bc holy shit chess actually accurately explains the roles of everyone and I just now realized it.

#undertale #utmv #undertale au #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 76 #error sans #chronic error #chronic sans

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 75

Previous - First - Next - We know

I'm not sorry. At all. Good luck. I have my keg of tears prepared and ER dialed, prepare for your hearts to be crushed and tears to be shed.

---

Whatever Error was doing, it seemed to work well. Each day he made others happy.

He spent days with Ink in his lap as they drew, holding them close even as his glitches writhed and scratched at his bones. At moments, he began to lose himself in the glitches, but it was worth it every time to see the Creator’s soft smile and her gently kiss away the glitches. Then when all the glitches were finally calm he would lean in and wrap up the intent-filled attentions with a final chaste kiss.

Ink was always so kind about it, talking still hurt to do so much, digging into his soul every time he opened his mouth. Ink had voice enough for the both of them, rambling on and on as they worked, the process was always so wonderful to see, and watch as Ink worked with anything and everything. Starting from many shapes and pulling them all together into unique abstract works or carefully shading and penciling in a realistic drawing.

Other days he let himself be wrapped up in Death’s wings, just simply existing together. After so long of being apart, it felt awfully fulfilling to be so close. They could go hours just contently cuddling. Sometimes, his mind didn’t want to stay blank–the paranoia far from gone. Some days he could swear he could hear them. Hear the voices words, hear their shrieking cries and insults but every time he would snap back to his skull in Reaper’s hands. Empty eye sockets gazing at him, one of the few forms of eye contact he was okay with handling now.

His cheeks burned whenever he snapped back. The voices just suddenly disappearing. Nothing but the sounds of life in the castle. The quiet sounds of the fridge working in the kitchen, maybe echoed creaking floorboards as someone walked around upstairs. Perhaps even a breeze coming in if the day was nice enough, the sounds of wildlife drifting in.

He hated when he drifted off from the others, but he loved the moments with them. Even if his body felt rubbed raw from the glitches after.

It started as a one-off kind of thing, but soon weekly after dinner Error sat posted at the island in the kitchen. He would carefully read out the recipe for Nightmare and Horror as they went about the kitchen baking. A small smile shyly crept on his skull and grew every time Nightmare passed by, always leaving a kiss in his wake. A little kiss on the top of his skull, one on his cheekbone, another on the rim of his glasses–his partners always assured he looked absolutely handsome with them on–and finally each time he spoke up he was treated to a soft chaste kiss. It was surprisingly domestic, and secretly he reveled in it whenever Horror rolled his eye.

It eased him back into eating too, and bonus points for distracting him so easily. The company was wonderful, the tranquil noise of the kitchen and banter between each other always made him forget about everything. From the size of the room to his dilemma to what he was planning. He’ll make sure they’re happy.

He went as far as training with Cross. His magic sparked and fizzled and refused to work, but that never stopped him. Each session with Cross he chose a new weapon to try out, picking up something–anything at all–from their little weapons closet and making it work for him. The voices prickled at the back of his mind, if only he had the much control and vigor with his magic.

If his footing was off for a moment, Cross didn’t comment. Only a bright smirk as their weapons clashed. Their swords advancing and guarding, empty fades blending with their lunges, a quick pivot as your opponent's sword narrowly misses.

At the forefront, he didn’t want to think at all. Knew not to. Despite the voices, the trauma of war was stronger. You need to focus on your opponent, not your paranoia. Hesitation means death.

In his off time, he wandered the castle, listening to the echoes of his footsteps when the voices wouldn’t shut up. Sometimes it led him to others.

Some days he would be running around with Killer helping him wrangle the new batch of kittens. Killer’s laughter and playful taunts barely enough to keep back the cries to just kill. Just hurt others. That was all he was good for. He could easily kill any of them with his bare useless claws. Killer’s soul was right there just waiting for him to crush it.

Other days he would stumble upon Dust’s little lab, although he’d have to purposefully head far up to do so. A tower sectioned off much like Nightmare’s little safe space. The windows were always open and airing out whatever smell the most recent experiment gave off. At times he wanted to question why Dust even used some of the ingredients he did, but he couldn’t deny the qualities they had. So he just sat at the windowsill, watching as the clouds drifted by and counting down the hours as he watched the sun rise and fall.

Although, even with Dust’s constant mutterings and talking through the science behind the madness the voices found him there too. How trivial it would be to mix the ingredients, to switch them around on Dust. How could he be blamed for an obvious freak accident? Even if he was to blame for the freak Cobalt.

Once that name crossed his mind again, he searched for a new place to be. Anywhere that wouldn’t make him think about that.

After many hours of wandering, he made his way outside in the sunset light. The buzz of a summer night approaching and a gentle breeze coming through. He watched as Dream nearby shivered, even as it felt warm to him. The perks of being a walking dead man.

Why was he even trying then? Couldn’t Death just take his soul and he just be done with everything?

He found himself by Dream’s side soon enough, laying in the grass as Dream worked on the garden he had begun. Luscious plants growing large with careful intent and care. He followed suit as Dream moved through the rows and planters, and when the guardian worked in the large greenhouse that Nightmare had happily supplied–much to Dream’s disdain, he didn’t need something this big–he found himself tucked away in the corner.

Despite everything, this stupid little corner in the abomination of metal and plastic felt near perfect. Yet he still couldn’t place what was wrong.

When nighttime fell, Dream would go inside, and eventually, one of his partners would pull him in as well. Nightmare would help him get ready for bed–even if he refused to sleep–a quick shower or a soothing bath after a long day then a comfortable change of clothes and they would all get in bed. Despite staying over so much and practically calling the place home, Dream and Ink had yet to claim one of the many open rooms. They switched between Nightmare’s room, the library with Error, and the room Death had come to call his.

Although, on the days when the voices were particularly awful, and no matter what he did he couldn’t get out of his own head, they all came to him. One by one each of them came in through the library doors, gave Error a kiss goodnight–or a shy nuzzle as Dream did–and settled in. As Error spent the night typing away to Sydney and working the best he could despite the voices screams, he could just barely make out the calm serene breathing of his partners.

Those Nights his soul felt full. Those nights it was much easier to ignore the voices. Those nights were one of the few he actually fell asleep.

Whenever by some mistake he did fall asleep, the voices and trauma continued to attack him, but Dream and Nightmare would always come to his rescue. Nightmare would assure him it was just a night terror–that it wasn’t real and that it was long in the past or completely fabricated–and then Dream would flank him with love and attention, easing him to a dreamless sleep.

But as the days continued on, his body hurt more and more, soon hardly being able to stand the texture of his own clothes. Hating every second they itched and scratched against him even as they were soft in his hands. His bones felt like they were always burning, and it wasn’t long until he couldn’t stand to have anyone touch him at all. Even the kisses he loved so much only hurt.

He felt so apart from his lovers, unable to hold them at all. Just them just being somewhat close was too much, even the sound of them existing nearby hurt too much while his soul started to hurt every moment he was alone. There was no pleasing a mistake like him was there?

The voices seemed to love jumping into this, assuring him they were there. They could help. They were always there, weren’t they? They came back in droves, and he hardly noticed when it had turned sour.

One moment things were fine, the next he snapped for things to be quiet. And all the talking stopped. Ink’s shocked face in front of him.

His lovers, despite everything, stayed with him that night. Sleeping in a distant part of the library when he started to hate the sounds of their souls.

The sounds of the castle began to hurt and he hated every moment it wasn’t dead silent. The only thing he came to stand was the sounds of outside. It wasn’t the anti-voids peacefulness. Not by a long shot, no, but it was better than having to stand another minute of footsteps or the constant buzz of the lights, the pain in his skull from even the darkest of rooms.

That fucking trashy terrible excuse of a spot in the corner of the greenhouse turned into his safe spot. Morning to night he was there. Each meal Horror would inch out and carefully set the food nearby and then return for the dish a little while later. Sometimes the plate would be empty, sometimes he couldn’t stand to touch it. The scratching of the fork or the little grains of seasoning getting on or between his bones was just not worth it. 

He was just leeching off of them anyway. Hurting them more and more. As long as he was in the AU it was fine, wasn’t it? If he was in the AU, if they knew he hadn’t left, that could keep them all happy?

For now, the sounds of nature soothed instead of irritated, the noise of the day tolerable and the calm of night preferred, even if he didn’t get to bask in it for long.

Dream worked some distance away, and it was quiet. Not silent, but quiet. Each moment was another moment of hate, wishing, and wanting, followed by more hate.

He hated the sound, wished he could go back to the antivoid, wanting to just leave, but he hated even the thought of leaving everyone. He hated what he’d become, a mess of a person just hurting everyone around him, if only he could go back, just go back to before, but then he wouldn’t have Dream and Ink with him. He wouldn’t have Reaper so close and Nightmare even closer. But all he’s done is hurt them. He’s lost his hearing, not his sight.

He doesn’t miss the anxious glances his lovers share when things get too much again. When he can’t stand any noise. Doesn’t miss the bubbling tears that appear when he has to stop Ink mid-sentence. Doesn’t miss the sad expression Dream tries to hide when Error has to walk away mid-conversation. Doesn’t miss the way Reaper falters when he has to avoid even the slightest graze from his wings. Doesn’t miss Nightmare’s emotions draining by the day, that old stoic expression returning–just like the first time they fell apart and the second.

It hurts so much, he wants to hear Ink’s rants, but any noise at all is grating his skull like cheese, and his soul hurts every time he dares open his mouth to explain. He doesn’t deserve the privilege of being able to explain himself. He wants to be close to Dream, to be able to follow through on their little deal, to make Dream happy and talk with him, but his soul is too strong, the intent too much and too overwhelming–and that’s without thinking about the noise and textures of everything else. He wants to cuddle with Reaper and just hide away in those wings while Death just whispers sweet nothings and promises of making things better, but he can’t. He can’t at all and it hurts. And He doesn’t even know where to start with Nightmare.

He barely registers the grass crunching outside as the voices quiet down, and faintly, he can feel his eye sockets hurting and skull burning again. How many times was that today?

You really can’t keep count?

That’s fucking pathetic.

You expect anything more?

I expect him to just die and get this all over with, just another waste of time.

“Error…?” Nightmare’ voice whispered, pleasantly quiet, “May I sit near you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, even as the friction of his hoodie moving itched and scratched against him. “Are you at your limit for the day?” Nightmare continued to whisper, voice even and emotionless. Error couldn’t tell if the other was hurt or not or if he was sad that he couldn’t sit near.

You’re good at that, aren’t you?

Oh, he’s the best at being a disappointment.

#1 Abomination as always Error.

The grass crunched annoyingly, and he could feel Nightmare’s souls settling nearby, just outside the greenhouse if he was right. The intent felt dizzying. Too much and too little. Far too much love, but at the same time, it never feels like enough. But if it’s too much love, then what isn’t enough?

Obviously, you’re not enough.

You really couldn’t put that together?

A disappointment as always.

“...Error?” He could barely manage a small hum of a questioning tone, the bare second-long vibration already skirting on too much, itching his skull. For the sake of less friction, he tensed and waited for the feeling to pass. 

Nightmare didn’t continue until his body relaxed. “...I’ve heard you’ve been avoiding Chronic?”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, a twisted smile forming on his skull, “What?”

“Didn’ even know they were ‘ere.” He choked out as his soul squeezed, a pain he was unfamiliar with shaking him to his core. His cheeks burned more.

“They’ve been here for some time, approached all of us during your last memory recovery and I allowed them to stay. It seems that the gang has grown fond of the odd creature.”

Why was Nightmare even bothering to tell him all this? Not like he cared what Chronic did. Bastard did whatever they wanted and had Core to help them get away with it. His sockets stung more, as a stray thought stuck out a sore thumb. He didn’t care, even after all Chronic had done to help. He wants to care, but he can’t muster the energy to. Not when all he does is hurt the people he cares about.

 “Error, I can feel your emotions churning, what’s on your mind?” How could he explain anything to Nightmare? He’d probably just break down before he got a single sound out. “... I won’t be mad if you can’t Error.”

Opening his eyes hurts and burns, the sunlight shining through and bouncing around the greenhouse, but he keeps them open. He turns his head from the corner where it was snug and safe, and he can barely see the black of Nightmare’s skull and legs where he sits outside the doorway.

“...how’d I make you happy?” The words come out slurred and meek, and it feels like a death grip on his soul as the air hangs with quiet. Not silence. Never silent. But the lack of any response when Nightmare is always so fast to reply leaves anxiety in its wake.

As his throat burns and his body aches, he forces out more, his cheeks burning and vision blurring. “I don’t know what you want me to be…” and he barely can hold back the hiccup of a sob, the voices simply background noise as he listens for Nightmare’s response.

“…I don’t want you to be anything.”

“Then how do I make you happy?” His voice strains at speaking but each word is more confident, the less he thinks about it and the less he can hear the voices–but it just makes the outside world so much more thundering. The sounds of Dream moving about in the distance too much, the wind too loud, the rustle of dirt below where he sits as he barely moves infuriating. 

“…You make me happy by being here.” No matter what, he was just going to hurt Nightmare.

“…There’s no other way to make you happy?” His eyes finally drifted up to Nightmare’s. The barest bit of his skull peeking into the greenhouse. There was a glint in Night’s eye that he couldn’t place, but whatever emotion that was betrayed was quickly snuffed, the stoic expression returning.

The quiet left in the question's aftermath is deafening. That lovely marbled eye is calculating, and it’s one of the few he can stand to look at. While it rakes over him, it feels comforting. It feels like the hold of the lover. It is the hold of his lover. The only hold he can bare right now.

Finally, after a long silence, Nightmare sighs.

“I’ll admit. I’m not sure what to say for once. You being here makes me happy, yes… of course.” Nightmare chuckles sadly, “But I also like you being happy. I’m happy when you’re happy... when everyone is happy… I hold the same conundrum you do. I want to help you–but you don’t need help. Never have, never will.”

Nightmare sighed once more, skull drifting down as he broke eye contact, barely looking over his shoulder, over in the direction of Dream. “I’m not sure what exactly is going on in the wonderful skull of yours,” the intent made his skull swim, “but, I think you’re… not seeing what’s actually happening. Drawing conclusions if you will. It makes us–and I mean all of us–happy to be near you…”

Nightmare turned back, barely meeting his eyes, “We understand that everything is a lot right now. That everything is a struggle. You don’t have to do anything at all. It hurts sometimes, yes. But that is a hurt of privilege. Picture it as you starving… and we are hurt that we don’t get a share of your food. Yes, it hurts. But only a little–and it is highly nonsensical and momentary hurt, we can live without a full conversation or being near you.”

“...’M sorry?” Nightmare huffs out a surprised laugh, near gallow in tone.

“Error, Ru, my love. There is nothing to be sorry for at all. We can wait or if you want, try and help it so you are not ‘starving’ anymore. We can go at whatever pace helps you.”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell him why it hurts so much, and he can see the flash in Nightmare’s eye as the thoughts fly and crash in his skull. The thoughts of Cobalt, of all the pretending, of both lives, of past lives, of the deaths he’s caused. All of it weighs, and it crushes.

“Error.” For a moment, his vision barely clears, his cheeks stinging and burning once more. Nightmare’s eye is trained on him, it’s soft, and it’s perfectly purple. “No matter what has caused this, whatever memory has triggered this, no matter what you’ve done, we will all still be here for you.”

“...Even if I did something horrible?” Nightmare chuckles softly, a kind gentle, and genuine smile gracing his corrupted features, and he can see the slight waver in the smile avoiding the chip in his cheek.

“Love, you could destroy the entire multiverse… even a megaverse if it exists out there… and I would follow your every step.”

The sudden power and control he feels from that statement alone is intoxicating, but it's the exact same reason he needs to leave. He can’t pull them down this path with him. They don’t deserve that.

“...I’m always here.”

Error sucks in an unneeded breath before sighing, his voice choking and breath stuttering as more tears roll down.

“…I-I kn- know…”

---

Yeeeeeeaaaahhhh not sorry. Although I was even like--damn I'm surprised at myself--when I was writing this. Anyway from now until the end of the series should be weekly updates. Prepare your hearts and tears for next week.

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 75 #chapter 75 #error sans #ink sans #reaper sans #nightmare sans #horror sans #killer sans #dust sans #cross sans #dream sans #chronic sans #chronic error #error x dream #error x ink #error x nightmare #error x reaper #elements

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 74

Previous - First - Next - We know

TW: Implied Dreammare

It still didn’t feel like his memories were over. Each day he waited to lose everything again, get thrown back into the antivoid for whatever else he forgot about, but it never happened. Each morning he awoke in someone’s arms. Each day people stuck around him. Each day the voices didn’t return. That crushing emotion stayed. The struggle continued.

All of it was so saddening. He had spent years getting away from the voices, he had fully moved on with his life. Now they had control all over again. Whatever stability he had crashed.

Error wanted to be everything that they saw him as, be the strong God that he was, but it felt impossible. Each time he so much as wanted to speak, there were the overwhelming thoughts and worries. Waiting for the people he loved to turn face and berate him like the voices, even when he knew they wouldn’t. The more and more he tried to grow, the more he hated every moment. He didn’t want to think about Nightmare hating him, or Ink fighting him. The fear of Death betraying him, of Dream leaving. The terror of the gang disappearing.

After all, the voices were right in the end, weren’t they? He couldn’t leave their control for long, and now it was worse than ever.

“Error…?” Dream’s soft voice sang, slowly and carefully stepping over.

Just like when he first came to the castle, he hated the closed rooms again. Hated the small cramped space of the kitchen, the fullness of the living room, and the clutter of the dining room. He even hated his own room. Even Nightmare’s room was still too small, so for now the library became his. Spending days reading when he wasn’t lost in his thoughts. When he could get away with it, he even grabbed his laptop and tried his best to keep Sydney up-to-date. Simply saying that some personal issues had come up.

It was sad. Pitiful even. The ever-powerful destroyer curled up in his blankets, clutching a pillow close. A couple of cups sat on the coffee table in front of his couch, his laptop strewn with them. His dinner had long since gone cold, even one spoonful of soup was too much to muster right now–even as his soul panged knowing that Horror must be going crazy with him eating next to nothing. Even chocolate wasn’t helping.

He didn’t want to look up at Dream’s disappointed expression. That’s how they all were. Disappointed in him. He trapped Cobalt in that antivoid for centuries. He was going to lose all of them- why was he even bothering staying here? There wasn’t any point anymore. They all hated him. It didn’t matter. They didn’t matter-

“Hey… shh, it’s okay.” Dream continued to softly speak, the couch dipping beside him as his cheeks burned.

They did matter. That’s what hurt the most. He didn’t want to hurt them, that’s all this stupid memories bullshit had done. It just hurt the people around him. Hearts was hurt by him. His whole universe is dead because of him. Death, Mercy, and Life were all hurt by him. He hurt Nim and Ink. Then he moved on to hurt Cobalt. He pulled Nightmare and the gang into this. Now even Dream is getting hurt by him. All of it was linked to him. All of it because of him.

“Error… I-” Dream started, before stopping, “….stars, no wonder Ink has a hard time comforting others… I am- I’m a little out of my element here, heh..”

He would just be better if he left their lives altogether.

“…I can’t understand the full extent of what you are- you’re feeling. But I… I can empathize with some of it.” Dream picked up again, and Error cracked a smile. As if Dream could.

No, no. Don’t pull that shit. Don’t think the worst of him. Dream is one of his. His team, practically one of his lovers, someone he could call a friend. But, that’s all the better reason to leave. To make sure he’s untouched by Error’s issues.

“Error… I- ….I don’t fully understand the context of the voices, I don’t know much of them aside from Ink used to deal with them too–and that they are far from nice… but-” Dream sighed, “ …I can’t understand the voices, but I can understand the dark thoughts… being alone for centuries–it isn’t…” Dream paused, and Error barely drifted his eyes up enough to look at the other. Avoiding any eye contact.

Thankfully, Dream wasn’t facing him, or even attempting to meet his eye. They sat side by side, Dream staring off into space, eyes slightly glazed, the glorious bright yellow shine dulled to a pale tint.

“…being alone for centuries does things to you. Some are reversible… some I just have to bear with now. Dark thoughts are one of those… I don’t want to think about you guys like that, but that thought process won’t stop anything or help.” Dream sighed, and without looking over to Error, Dream drifted a hand closer to Error, palm up. Whether it was to comfort Error or comfort him, it was hard to say.

“But I know you guys won’t do any of that. Funny enough, contrary to all the gossip of the centuries, I’m safest with you all… I like being by Nightmare’s side again, and I found…” Dream moved, not looking into Error’s eyes, but staring down at the couch, “I like being by your side too… I actually enjoy another's company for once… don’t have to pretend that I care or that I want to listen… those countless universes I had to run between were so exhausting.”

Error drifted a hand close to Dream’s, letting their pinkies touch gently. The contact for a moment burned but quickly fizzled to something soft, just the texture of bone against his. No pain, just his soul feeling a little lighter, a little more alive.

“...When I thought it was safe enough, I just locked myself away in that cabin, but I can’t tell if that was worse or not… plants can’t fill that emptiness I have without people, the more and more I spend time with everyone here, I can see that.” Dream continued to speak softly, a wavering note in his voice, but a small smile on his skull.

“…‘s hard.” Error finally uttered, and he could barely see Dream’s eyes fly open in surprise.

“Heh, yeah… yeah.” Dream’s smile grew wider, “Readjusting to all of it is… getting used to what you can and can’t say around people… but, it’s worth it. You have a wonderful family here, and I’m sad I didn’t see it sooner, there’s probably plenty I’ve missed out on because I just didn’t let myself see what everyone here could be, and was stuck on who they were pretending to be.”

That emotion struck him again, the whole second life he had, just pretending to be something he wasn’t. Pretending his whole identity just to have a second chance at a normal life. Was he still pretending? He didn’t know anymore, he’s spent so long pretending. Pretending to be fine, pretending to have it under control, pretending he wasn’t afraid.

“Error… do you want to- …I want you to do something for me, and I’ll do something in return.” Error slowly nodded, and Dream’s expression softened, “Can we together, stop pretending? I’ll share my dark thoughts with you, then you can share yours with me?”

It's just another trick, just something else to bring him under control. But isn't he perfect for that? Just being controlled by someone else? It’d make Dream happy too. He wants Dream to be happy. He wants to keep him happy for as long as he can before he leaves. He has to leave them. So he can pretend to not pretend. Keep them happy before he leaves. He could force himself to do that if it means they’ll be happy. Nothing new to him, he’s always pushed himself for others anyway.

“…okay.”

He’s going to turn on you, it was all a joke.

“Thank you, Rose.” Dream smiled, staring at where their pinkies were still touching.

“Rose…?” Dream brightened more as he continued to talk, was that a way to keep him happy, keep talking?

“Yeah, I thought about it a while ago… you’re amazing and strong like one, but prickly too. Just something I thought was pretty fitting since the others got their own little nicknames for you.” Dream’s smile dropped, “Was a little worried I was overthinking it… but, now that I’ve told you, it feels right.”

He didn’t know what to say in reply, so Error just pushed himself more, wincing as his hand burned from grabbing Dream’s. The other attempted to pull away, but Error held his hand tight, and soon, the heat seemed to evaporate. The pain he expected to feel was just gone.

“Error? Are you alright? You- you don’t have to-”

“Wanted to.” Was all he said, shrugging. 

It wasn’t a lie, he wanted to make Dream happier, and this was a way to do so. Healing in their eyes. Getting better and moving past. If healing was the best way to make everyone happy, then he would. He would make sure they all were happy before he left. Fix the pain he caused them all.

---

IM BACK WITH AEJ, had to rework story but its fine now, so at least weekly chapters from now on, can't wait to finish this!

I have commissions!

DONT FORGET ABOUT MY RAFFLE!

#undertale au #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 74 #error sans #dream sans #dream x nightmare #dream x error

[secret-time-is-here]

And it's finally finished!! Now on both Ao3 and Tumblr, the poster will be on the first chapter. Here's to hoping I'll finish AEJ before the end of the year _:D

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #an error's journey #aej #error sans #nightmare sans #dream sans #core frisk #reaper sans #ink sans #chronic error #chronic sans

[secret-time-is-here]

We Know - AEJ

Chapter 2 - Dream

AEJ - Previous - First - Next

After chapter 57.5 before 64

TW: Dreammare

With Nightmare no longer a worry, the stress lessened. They were emboldened by knowing that Core had everything still under control. That whatever happens will happen for a reason. That they are free to do what they see fit and Core trusts them to do so.

As time continued moving, the balance moved with it. Evening out bit by bit. He walked across dreams and night-terrors alike, tending to the sleeping world. They worked flawlessly after centuries of getting used to their mixed powers, with ease that Life could be jealous of.

Through dead and destroyed worlds, they created and expanded the worlds that needed it. The voices still hated them but knew that they were not worth it. The true creators came through the cluster of noise in the antivoid, and Chronic followed their dreams, creating what they wanted. He destroyed the glitching ones that Error missed.

They kept an eye out for him. Watching out for anything that could fault his presence.

When the balance was doing well, he went around the multiverse putting everything into place. Making sure Hearts stayed up to date on plans, adjusting events to make sure the right people bumped into each other, and hiding items when needed. They had gotten scarily good at diversion these last few years. Subtle tapping on the window, rustling papers, and creaking the right floorboards.

Tonight, he danced across the dreamscape. Easing Error’s night-terrors and wandering in search of something to do.

Their souls pulsed, and they knew another one of them was nearby.

“...Nightmare?” Chronic slowly turned, and Dream’s eyes stayed a soft hue. Not solid as they were with anyone that wasn’t Nightmare.

Dream’s hand raised to clutch over his ribs, and Chronic watched them with gleaming green eyes, towering over the other. Dream continued to eye him, calculating. Eyes darted and drifted across their form, taking in their freckles and smoking tears, the aqua stained on their cheeks, and the cheeky fanged smile plastered on their expression.

Eyes landed on their pendant, shadows licking at the outer edges of the gold coin, the vines and flowers flashing white with the light of the dreamscape. Blinding colors that should’ve made anyone think twice about looking, but it was clear Dream wasn’t quite looking at the amulet. He was looking past it. 

Those soft eyes that he missed seeing so drifted back up, locking together with theirs, “...Who are you?”

“Now that is a question, isn’t it?” Their voice dripped, and Dream’s mouth subtly clenched before releasing, “Ah… you do still remember, somewhere in your soul where you’ve stomped down your wants… you can feel the yearning.”

“I… I-uh.” Dream spoke dumbly, eyes still locked but body frantic, looking away when his eyes couldn’t.

“Hush, we know. You do not need to tell us. You can not hide your wants from me.” As their voice changed, easing to a soft lullaby, Dream's eyes sharpened with recognition. “You need not hide your wants from them either, reach for them, and you will see them hold your hand in kind… I know it’s hard. But you need to trust them.” His eyes must have flashed that green color that Nightmare had mentioned because the next moment he could taste the ease and familiarity from the other.

“...why do I… yearn? For you?” Dream relaxed once more, arms clenched in front of him, one turned towards Dream’s own soul and the other facing Chronic as if wanting to reach out.

“Ah, that is much harder to answer… but if you can recognize our voices…” He could see the faint glow flashback at him as he looked down at Dream, the reflection of his eyes winking at him in the band of Dream’s crown, “Can you recognize mine, sun? Or would you know little ole’ me? Or would ya remember me?”

The realization must’ve dawned, as Dream’s eyes sparked with life.

“But–how-?”

“It’s simple, love. We are not from you, you are from us.” the flash of magenta lighting up the space, “I don’t know how much more clear we could be with ya.” The fanged smile returned, “We gotta give you some challenge after all! Hardly anything to do around here… do you not agree?”

Dream nodded, seeming to understand.

Chronic was ready to turn and walk away, continue on with their wandering until they were stopped. In a simple blink, Dream wrapped himself around their waist, clutching tight in a one-sided hug.

The relief was strong in the air, a bold taste that they were never sure if they liked or not. However, it was refreshing to taste after so long. Everyone around them hung with an air of anxiety if not naive to the circumstance. They had even caught themself with the same thinking at times.

Chronic crouched down with Dream, moving arms to wrap around their neck as they hugged Dream back, wiping away the younger’s tears.

“I hope you know, they yearn for you just as much… your souls call for each other. They do not like being apart. Death’s pet name “Soulmate” is much more literal than you had first believed.”

Dream leaned further into them, and Chronic sighed, sitting down with them, holding close.

Slow going, Chronic held them close, subtly rocking. “Oh soul… ” Dream seemed to ease at the pet name, “They miss you more than you could ever know… Nightmare misses you every day… has missed you for centuries. Even with Error and the gang by his side, he can’t help but stay up on stormy nights. Anticipating you by his side…”

The tears seemed to work faster, but the stark feeling of nostalgia and love filled the other's aura. A sweet negativity that he couldn’t help but relish. The only negativity he could ever enjoy.

When the hiccuping sobs passed and the quiet snores filled the dreamscape, they continued to hold him. They rocked slowly evermore. It had been so long since they could hold him. Centuries since they were able to have one of theirs so close, it hurt to know he would never be allowed to have them back. Their souls yearned but would never accept again.

The determination of the first time wasn’t there. The need and desire of the circumstance.

Dream and the others may never understand it, but in due time, they know Error will.

When he could feel Dream’s peaceful snores die down to a blissful sleep he carefully sat the two of them up and carried Dream home.

The hut was worn as always, moss and vines growing up the side of the bricks and planks. The garden was wild and chaotic but growing beautifully. Berries, fruits, vegetables, and flowers all planted delicately and encouraged to grow as big as possible. Their mind flashed to a fairytale the Chara’s talked about at times as they walked past the large pumpkins.

Crouching, he entered the abode. The floor whined at the sudden weight and the near ladder-like staircase to the loft creaked with despair. Worn out and old. Dream continued to sleep.

They pulled back the threadbare blankets piled up around Dream’s nest-like bed, the chaos of pillows and comforting items–the intent from everything in the room roared with sentiment–tucked away just right to make room for Dream.

The small guardian groaned and rolled as he was set down, the wood-made frame creaking annoyingly with the rest of the house as the wind picked up.

They sighed softly, and as Dream’s face scrunched up again, they leaned in closer. Carefully taking off his crown and set it beside him. The clouds rumbled, and they sighed once more.

Quietly, they whispered the incantation they knew well, sealing it with a kiss on Dream’s forehead. The dim glow of purple magic flashed before sealing itself away. Instantly, Dream relaxed, and the house shuddered with the coming storm.

They eased down the steps and slipped away into the night.

#undertale #undertaleau #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej we know #aej we know chapter 2 #chapter 2 #Chronic sans #chronic error #dream sans

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 73

Previous - First - Next - We know

TW: Implied Dreammare

Thrown back into bed is more startling than it ever had been before. His vision flickers as it returns, a panging in his skull and ringing in his ears. He gulps for air he doesn’t need, his soul pulsing fast. His ribs feel so brittle against his soul, his spine flaring with pain.

His room is stale, stagnant, not the comfort he needs right now. It’s his, but not. It feels like a piece of his soul is missing. That other parts of him should be here, but they aren’t. The shadows of his room merge, blurred in his vision, the darkness is welcoming, but still too much. Too many things to look at, too many details, too many of everything. Wings stretch into his vision, wisping.

“Ca… Chr-?” He chokes out, his throat sore and dry.

“Shhh… hush, I know.” His soul still beats fast, but he clings to the shadowy form next to him, lightweight arms holding him close. It still feels off, but it’s better in their arms.

A hand is soothing on his back, following his breathing and slowing it down. He feels strangely light-headed, his thoughts cloudy now. It's hard to think much of anything. “...Dream and Nightmare are running over, would you like me to let them in?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Who do you want?”

“...don’t want to burden anyone.”

“Error.” Chronic pulls back, drifting his skull up to stare into their eyes, for once, their eyes are solid. Soothing magenta orbs stared back at him. His soul slows down, beating softly in the background, “They’re not just your team. They’re yours. They want to be ‘burdened’ by you. They want to be with you. Dream may still be in very obvious denial about it, but Death realized this centuries ago. Nightmare knew as soon as he got to know you. Even Ink can remember how much he cares about you. Dream has always, and I mean always-since you very first met-known that he wants you in his life. You all complete each other… in more ways than you would know.”

He tucked himself back into their arms, hiding away, “Error… they aren’t going to leave you–not without a fight, anyway. Nightmare knows you far too well for you to avoid him for long, Death and Ink sure as stars aren’t letting you get away from them again and Dream understands more than you would believe.”

Several knocks rang through the room, Nightmare’s voice muffled by the door. His skull hurt too much to even attempt to try and figure out what he just said. “...We will be leaving you, Error. Remember what we said, okay, glitch?”

He barely managed a hum as Chronic slipped away, and the door opened seconds later.

He flinched back at the sudden light pouring in, and as soon as it was there it was gone. He blinked his eyes open to see Dream and Nightmare standing in the dark at the edge of his bed, both exchanging worried expressions with each other. In the dull haze of his mind, he noticed Nightmare had forgone his corruption and was just barely shorter than Dream.

Nightmare flicked his wrist, an enchanting purple orb hovered in his hand, bathing the room in dim light. It pulled at the haze of his mind, easing the pain in his body as he blinked his eyes at the light. Dream crawled along the side of the bed, sitting next to him and handing him a glass of water while Nightmare scootched close.

The water was amazing, and he couldn’t gulp it down fast enough despite Dream pacing him through it.

The silence stretches for a while afterward as he works through the haze, slowly but surely feeling like himself again. He could barely see Dream and Nightmare exchanging quiet looks. The two practically had a whole conversation without saying a word.

Nightmare curls up against him, testing boundaries. A hand sneaks into his own. He grips it tight.

“I know you don’t want to talk about… this.” Nightmare starts, a pleading note in his voice, “However, it’s not healthy to keep this to yourself… who do you feel most comfortable talking to right now?”

He bit his tongues, and Dream could clearly sense his apprehension.

“Error, we do not want to dig into your emotions–but the amount of negativity you’re holding alone is far too much to ignore, not to mention leagues more than one person should have, even in darker moments.” Nightmare hums softly in agreement.

“...I …but-”

“I’m sorry, Ru. But this once, I need you to choose. I don’t want to take away your choices or limit them, but this is something you need to do. You can’t put this off. I fear what would happen if you did… having this much negativity is a dangerous; dangerous path.”

“Keeping that much to yourself is… bad.” Dream agrees, eyes drifting worryingly to Nightmare. “It causes harm not only to you but the relationships around you.”

Well, he has always been good at that, hasn’t he? After all… it's how he lost Cobalt.

It’s not hard to put the two together in his mind. What’s hard is to accept the fact that he’s the reason Cobalt is a glitch now too. He forced that on him… much like Core did to him.

He fails to see how this is the best possible outcome.

A lightbulb flickers to life in the back of his mind. He has still yet to find the mistake he made, or the supposed shared enemy. For all his suffering he has been useless so far. He’s just hurt and pushed away the people around him.

“Error?” Nightmare’s voice speaks softly, gently. Nightmare’s been with him for so long, he doesn’t want to lose him too. Make him mad or scared, or hurt him at all. The weight of the realization crushes him, and he doesn’t want Nightmare to have to carry the weight too.

Then Dream, he had been untouched by all of Error’s plagues for so long. He wants to keep it that way. The other is honest and kind and doesn’t deserve to have to deal with his bullshit.

Reaper, as much as he loves the bastard, knows him far too well, and he knows the other just as well. Death had been hurt far too much in his life, and still to this day has to deal with the deaths of many, he doesn’t have the job of merciful death, no. He has to deal with the abusers and criminals.

Then Ink, stars. If Ink dealt with the voices too… he doesn’t want to think about it. But, wouldn’t that mean he understood the most? Even if Cobalt was such a close friend, surely he could just leave out that part, right?

“Uhm… Ink?” Dream nods with a smile as Nightmare uncurls himself from Error’s side.

“We’ll still be around if you need, Ru.” Nightmare says with a gentle smile, hand still in Error’s. Nightmare nearly slips away, but he holds tight to the other’s hand and the other waits. 

There are several beats of silence before he leans over and chastely kisses Nightmare for what must be the first time in ages. Nightmare chuckles a laugh before leaving, Dream quickly ushers out with a gold blush dashed across his cheeks. He can feel the warmth spread across his soul. The loving intent eases the growing negativity for now.

The enchanting orb barely follows Nightmare out the door, light pouring in again for just a moment before the darkness returns. He heaves out a sigh, resigning himself to checking on his phones while he waits.

His normal phone is for the most part empty, only some messages from Death and Ink, both sending more memes for him with the captions of “for when you wake up :)” although there was a message from Cross that xey has stashed some chocolate away for him. Killer kept trying to steal some. Stars, he didn’t want to lose them either. Especially Cross. Out of everyone, they deserved a calm, easy life. If Cross had to deal with that Gaster, to be related and have to be the child of that Gaster… they deserve the stars and more. 

With a sigh, he dismissed the train of thought, for now, moving to his other phone. Contrasting his personal phone, Lapse’s phone was full of messages. Blue and Cobalt worried if he had made it home safe. Ink concerned about where he’d been after hearing he was back. Sydney assured him he was fine to take as much time away to keep working through his loss.

At least it had only been a few days since he was at the farm, but funny enough, he doesn’t remember making it home at all. The last, very distant memories of leaning against Chronic in his realm was all that came to mind. He must have made it back somehow, how would he have gotten to his room otherwise?

Had Chronic brought him back?

Gentle knocking echoed, and a short head poked in.

“Hey, Kitten… you doing okay?” Ink slowly stepped in, closing the door behind them.

Thoughts of Cobalt still weighed on his mind. He shrugged with a low hum. “Yeah- probably shouldn’t have asked that… heh.” They fidgeted with the hem of the sweater they were wearing, no doubt stolen from Nightmare, far too big to be one of Reaper’s but not big enough to be one of his.

Those eyes darted around before connecting back with his again, with a smile, he opened his arms and Ink rushed over into them.

They breathed in deeply before sighing, “...Missed you.” His soul pulsed, and Ink relaxed more against him, “Not the same without you around. Can’t hear your soul beat when you’re doing a recovery…” Ink trailed, nuzzling into his shirt and clinging tight before finally relaxing.

“...I- I missed you too.” He could feel Ink smile against him.

“The… the memories…?”

“...Bad. The- the voices…” His breathing picked up again, soul racing, and Ink sat up, moving to let him rest against their chest. Cuddling the smaller close. “...I’ve done a-” he heaved a sigh, fighting back the sobs and tears as he thought about it, “...a lot of… bad. Bad things.”

“Hmm, yeah. We all have at some point or another. On one scale or another.”

“Not like… this.”

“Well, I can’t really tell if I don’t know? But! Knowing how you’ve been you’re not gonna say–so I can try and work with that.” Ink began to ramble, lightly petting his back, “Well, assuming it isn’t killing–since that’s a pretty obvious one and you know that everyone living here has some LV under their belt… so? Uh, for a creative mind I’m not coming up with a lot of ideas…”

Ink sighed, probably biting their lip as they were unfortunately prone to do. A hand pulled away, and he smiled as he saw it wave around as Ink found their words, “Uh… um- maybe some mortal things? I don’t deal with mortal stuff enough to know their crimes… can’t be stealing–Cressy and the gang do plenty of that… Nightmare’s got plenty of mortal crimes under his belt–so I guess all of those are off the list… what else?”

There were a lot of mortal crimes under Nightmare’s belt, stealing and killing just a small few of the wars he started and letters he stole and edited. However, Nightmare refused to stoop as low as any mental damage. Kidnapping and lasting trauma were always avoided. Always. 

Ink continued to ramble in the background of his thoughts.

“I know there are some things Night avoids… Can’t remember what for the life of me.” The gesturing hand moved to cling to him again, Ink pressing little butterfly kisses against his skull, wiping away silent burning tears as they fell. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna be here. You weren’t yourself back then, remember? Whatever the voices convinced you to do, it’s not your fault.”

“I… I still-”

“Either way. It’s not your fault. Whatever you did, I’m sure you can find forgiveness–look at me I’m starting to sound like Dream! Ha! Wait, is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Pfft,” The sudden change of tone caught him off guard, “Way to ruin a moment, Inky.”

“Heh, sorry…” He could feel Ink attempt to shrug despite being more or less trapped under him. “Uh, can I trade a secret?”

“Ya don’t have to-”

“No… I- I do. I’ve… been needing to tell someone for ages.” Ink sat up against the headboard, and Error followed, leaning against the pillows together, their hands locked between them. “I… stars. How to word this? It’s nothing super serious–promise, but still…”

Error hums, and Ink smiles, expression softening. He could practically see the anxiety melt from the other.

 "I'm not a skeleton for beating around the bush, and if I rant before I say it, I'll probably forget what I wanna say." Ink sighs, "I... I wanna experiment with pronouns. All of them... maybe some skirts too? Dresses? I dunno..." The anxiety seemed to swell in the other as they finished, glancing back up at him every few seconds.

At that moment, it clicks in his mind. He would’ve thought he’d be able to spot something so obvious much sooner, but perhaps not. The distant memory of trading nightgowns at Ink’s home in omega, Ink talking about getting dresses from Lapse, then much more recently changing out their wardrobe entirely.

Wordless, he unlocks their hands and pulls Ink back into his arms, hugging them close. They practically melt against him. “Thank you…” they whisper into the silence.

Eventually, slowly, they ease apart. A bright, somewhat teary smile, was etched into Ink’s vibrant expression. A heart in one eye and a soul in the other.

"So just making sure, all an' any pronouns?" Ink nods ecstatically, and he smirks, "So I can call ya a bitch now?"

Ink bursts out laughing and it seems that was the perfect thing to ease whatever tension was left. "Just checking all boundaries, if I'm talking about you to other people, you're okay with me using they, xey, she, it, so on, right?" Ink’s eyes turn to stars, and they nod.

“So much excitement- joy-” She’s practically bouncing in place, “Ah! Yes! So glad I got that off my chest!” He bounds back into Error, pushing them both down into a pile on the blankets.

This was what he missed. The easy moments like this. Cuddling in a weird pile on the blankets. The jokes, the banter. Just like he and Nightmare used to do, back before everything was so serious.

It must have been hours later before anyone interrupted them, Death letting himself in. They were both pulled from the blankets and brought downstairs. Dream hesitantly sat with everyone else, Nightmare cuddled up against him. The gang seemed so happy to have him back yet again, but also just as hesitant. Nightmare gave a worried look that spoke of how much negativity he must still be holding.

His soul thrummed, still missing a piece of himself, somewhere out there, but this would do. He squished himself along with Dream and Nightmare, Ink draping himself across their laps and Death perching himself in Error’s lap. Wings stretching out to reach and hold all of them.

If he wasn’t careful, his soul just might break out of his ribcage with how powerful this feeling was.

He could feel Chronic hesitantly walking around in the shadows, his soul finally relaxed. All the pieces he needed together. He drifted off again in their arms. His guilt momentarily forgotten.

#undertale #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 73 #chapter 73 #error sans #nightmare sans #dream sans #chronic sans #ink sans

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 72

Previous - First - Next

Warnings: Verbal abuse, manipulation, memory loss.

He struggles to stay in place. To relax. Why was Outertale not helping? It always helped him to calm down. With a sigh, he attempts again, but he still feels uneasy. It doesn’t feel right. He can’t shake the feeling, and the more he thinks the more he can’t explain.

Finally, he stands up, opening a portal, and walks through, but the new place doesn’t feel right either. He doesn’t even bother to sit down. Portal after portal he tries again and again until it ultimately landed somewhere that felt right.

He would’ve never expected a place so dreary as this to be enjoyable to him. So dead. Just the destroyed sounds of nature, broken breezes, and clouds rumbling as they made their cross-country adventure. The grass had long since grown a deathly yellow, pale as eggshells. It swayed with the wind and followed the music of the crumbling creek nearby. The rubble of a village was nearby, left to decay. Moss overtaking the stone and bugs rotting the wood.

Overlooking it all stood a tall hill, a large dead tree with the cuts of an ax at the bottom. It towered overall, even the stone statue next to it. He cautiously sat at the base of the old apple tree, sitting huddled to himself, looking out at the dark landscape. It felt like a home, but it didn’t feel right. People were missing. A body or two next to him. Yet, he still shivered at the thought of someone touching him.

He looked back over to the statue, the detailed and horrified expression of someone he felt like he knew, yet no memories rang true. He carefully walked over to the short statue. Leaning down to see the face of the skeleton. It felt far too familiar to not be from his past.

“I would recommend you to back off. That is not yours.” He flinched back, the hand that had nearly caressed the small cheek flying to his pocket. He turned and glared at the newcomer.

“What’s it to you, abomination?” The odd creature practically chortles, “The fuck do you want?”

“That’s the best nickname I’ve heard by far… but I’ve already made my demands clear. Back away from that statue, now. That is my sworn enemy, not yours.” A graceful charming voice responds, deep and rumbling. But the words were smooth and cut easily.

“Uhuh, sworn enemy–yada yada, if he’s your enemy why don’t you just kill him and get it over with?”

“Well, that’d be killing myself, he and I are not so simple, you see.” The slithering creature stalks closer, slanted eyes piercing. Cyan glazed with the faintest purple. Uncatchable if it weren’t for the cloudy light.

A tendril suddenly extends out, and he cringes back from it, backing up against the tree. The dark figure stands between him and the statue. “Now, I believe you’d best be leaving now, and never return. Do you understand, pest?” The monster that could barely be called a skeleton stands tall, head angled up and looking down on him despite being shorter.

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck me I guess.” He huffs, inching around the trunk of the tree.

“Oh no, friend. Haha… I would hardly do such a thing.” The voice laughs as he turns his back, “Good day now, Destroyer.”

Error just shakes his head, moving back into the antivoid, his captive already forgotten for the weirdness of that foul negativity radiating creature.

“Er… ror…?” A glitching voice calls out, distant, weak. He turns to the source, a writhing mess on the ground.

“...Sans?”

“Help…” They cry softly, hands scratching at their skull, tearing through their gloves. Error tries to step closer, but at each step, the other cringes at the sound. Shaking further.

The pure agony rolls off in waves, hitting his soul like a tidal wave. For the first time in ages, it beats fast. “Help me!” Sans cries, sobbing now. He witnesses the other crash, a loading bar appear above their head. Glitches cover the other, and they return lazily.

“Error…?” Blue eyes look back at him, stars around their faces. A disgusting abomination. Just like him. “Error! No- No! Get away from me!” They quickly stand, cowering away, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry–sorry, sorry, sorry-” The next crash comes on even faster, pixels all over for only a moment before Sans returns.

Terrified eyes land on him, and they slowly back away, like a deer caught in headlights. They run into the void, and Error still can’t find his voice.

“How sad…”

“He was such a nice plaything too.”

“Good thing you’re back now though!”

“Yeah… yeah.” Is all he can muster, still staring at where Sans ran off too. Their figure had disappeared at some point. When had they learned portal magic? Had someone else done it for them?

“Welcome back!” A much more cheerful voice calls, one of the few nice ones, he tears his eyes away staring at the ground.

“Oh, come on. He wasn’t that important.”

“Yeah, just like you said. Just some little brat.”

“Serves him right! Now he’s just as bad as you!”

“Then… then what happened to me…?”

“Oh, that’s not important. You were just as bad. You deserve this. I hope you know.”

“Yeah… I- I know.” He can feel phantom, shadowy hands snake into his, and he clutches them tight. The crash comes on quickly.

Silence. More silence.

Where had the voices gone? Has he been bad again?

They don’t return. It all hurts. Overwhelming. What had he done wrong?

Where was he? Why was he here? Why so much white? It hurt his eyes.

Where was everyone?

He was still alone.

-

IT TOOK A FUCKING YEAR BUT THE MEMORIES ARE OVER HOLY SHIT, finally Error actually gets his arch. Oh, you thought this had been his arch? Nah. This is the introduction to the story. The real shit happens now.

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 72 #error sans #nightmare sans #underswap sans

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 71

Previous - First - Next

Warnings: Verbal abuse, fighting (both physical and not), trauma.

This is also a really long chapter... seriously. 4K words.

Screaming. Yelling. Shouting. Did they ever get tired? Didn’t seem like it. He clutched the bean bag tighter, curling more. Would they ever shut up? Give him a moment of rest? His eyes had felt heavy for so long, just like his body. Yet he also felt lightless. Disconnected. Barely feeling the fabric under his fingertips and pressed against his face.

His mind refused to sleep, the voices were far too loud. Far too much. Yet, the white space he lived in was too little. Not enough. Not right, and somehow, also too much.

“What do you want?!” He finally sat up, turning back to still see nothing. The endless white greeted him. Blue hanging strings curtained his vision.

Silence greeted him in return. It felt wrong. It wasn’t natural. But if this wasn’t natural, what was?

With a heavy sigh, he turned and laid back down, pushing himself into a ball on the poor excuse of furniture. Back to the white void, and eyes momentarily shielded. He blinked, once, maybe twice.

He awoke to the voices back again.

“We’re bored!”

“Go do something!”

“You’re so lazy!”

“Not my fault you’re bored!” He yelled back at them.

“Aww, little Error too afraid to go back outside?” He wasn’t afraid. He never was. It just didn’t feel right to be out there. 

Too many sounds, too much too little still. Then his soul. That’s what hurt the most. His body always felt like it was burning and his soul beat too loud to hear anything else. Then the worry, thoughts he didn’t understand. Who was he worried for? Who was he trying to find? Why was he terrified of being found?

“I’m not afraid!”

“Then why don’t you go out then? Prove us wrong. Destroy a little. Have some fun for us.”

“Fine! I will!”

He wasn’t afraid.

His hands shook as the magic sparked, but the portal opened just the same.

He arrived on the other side, the dark cold underground was still too much. The voices were quiet. Cold air puffed around him, strong winds chilling him to the bone. His scarf swayed with it.

Down below, people were peaceful. Green and red lights blinked and shined, disgusting abominations that weren’t meant to be going about their day as if everything was fine. How he hated these universes. A short overconfident Sans jumped about checking his puzzles, a Papyrus nearby dozing off in the fresh snow.

He could work with this. Show the voices how much he cared. How he wasn’t afraid.

He shivered more, sounds echoing from everywhere. It hurt to keep his eyes open. Too much. He could use a nap first.

Stalking was the easiest part, watching the pathetic Chara acting all innocent. Pulling at their souls with their fake care. The human played their little game, trying out run from run. They knew well enough to not bother with a pacifist, the neutral timelines dipped into genocide.

He was quick to steal their soul once he saw the opportunity. Killing Flowey happily and using the human to kill Asgore. The rest of the underground was a piece of cake, that was until Papyrus decided to get in the way. It was a struggle to lead Sans away. But in due time, he did. Who was the lazy idiot now, voices?

…Where are the voices? He did good, right? He was doing what they asked-

Papyrus moved to the justice hall. The blurry blob of orange standing in the distance. He approached from the shadows.

“Sans-?” Papyrus shakes his head, “No… no. You’re not Sans.”

“That’s right! How smart of you,” he smiled, voice glitching, “I’m not your Sans.”

“Where is he then? What about the human? And everyone else?”

“Oh, you didn’t realize? Your brother is right here with us!” His strings moved, bringing the struggling soul closer.

“Pa-paps…!”

“As for your friends… and the human, I guess.” He nonchalantly looked away, “Let’s just say… they’re hanging around.” He chuckled softly to himself, but Papyrus glared. Could he really not take a joke?

“...So what? Did you come here with my bro… just for a final fight with me before you erase my world?”

“What?” He couldn’t help but laugh, “Hah! No! I’m hardly so barbaric… no.” The battle screen he was all too familiar with flickered to life before him. “I came here with your bro- so he could have his final fight with you…”

“Papyrus- Please! Run!” The poor pitiful Swap Sans shook in his boots, but the blaster fired all the same. More attacks flew, and he smiled from the sidelines, barely moving his fingers as he watched the fight.

Bones spawned wave after wave, and Papyrus easily avoided it, Sans did his best to fight against it, but to no avail.

“Hehe… want to learn something fun? It has to do with your universe…” More gaster blasters fired, “Before eradicating a universe, I love examining its code.” Sans easily dodged with his help, “Your universe was very curious! Would you like to know the probability of a universe like yours existing?”

Papyrus barely caught a moment to look him in the eye to glare, before dodging again. “A probability of 1, divided by 9,109,043,495… that’s simply a freak accident. Isn’t it? You’re all accidents.” Orange flared from Papyrus's eye, “There should only be one universe. And you’re just a blip on the radar. Unwanted static. I mean… who would miss you?”

Papyrus glared further, looking ready to sprint full force at him, but Sans spoke up.

“Paps… wait.” He could barely see Sans raising their hands assuringly, “It… it’s okay. I’m okay. But… I can’t stop him. So… please. Just- just run.” The other’s expression softened, and Error watched with a confused look, “Don’t… I- I can’t. Don’t let me kill you-”

“Sans! But- I can’t leave you! Not here… Not with him!”

“Maybe he won’t kill me. Maybe– Maybe… he just… needs someone to talk to?” He could feel Sans fighting more against the strings, trying to turn to look at him, he couldn’t help the surprise. The honest curiosity and kindness streaming from the perfect little idiotic soul.

Sans turned fully to him, “Is that it? Do you need someone to talk to…?”

Someone that actually wanted to talk? To actually be there with him–not leave?

“Haha… you… you want to talk?”

“Ya… yeah. I do want to talk.” Sans took a hesitant step closer, the sound echoing harshly, “Maybe it could help us both? Maybe… we could even be friends?” The hand holding the strings fell, and Sans stepped closer.

“Sans– wait! Don’t get near him!”

“Trust me Papyrus,” Sans spoke, not looking away from Error, “I got this.” When Sans started to get closer, practically touching–how dare he–Error started to step back, “You know. You can talk to me… to do such terrible things… You’ve really got to be hurting. Right?”

“...heh. Yeah.” It felt nice for some little idiot to understand so well without him saying anything. He couldn’t process it. He tore his eyes to the ground, trying to focus. “You’re right… It would be nice-” His grin split wide, and for some reason, Papyrus seemed more worried. More scared. “To have someone new to hang around with.”

“Enough!!” Papyrus summoned several gaster blasters around, all aimed at Error.

“Papyrus! Wait–Don’t! I’m getting to him! I’m-” Last second, they all aimed up, cutting off the strings that tied to Sans’ soul.

He could barely see the tiny blurred lines of blue before suddenly Papyrus was clear in front of him and he was taking a solid kick to the face. Falling back. He crashed into the wall, rubble falling around. He could distantly hear Sans talking to Papyrus again, but nothing intelligible could be made out over the ringing in his skull.

He launched himself back up with his strings, finally bringing out his own blasters. If he wanted a fight, he would get it.

“Now!!” Papyrus yelled, and Sans ran away, hiding somewhere.

He jumped around, dodging everything with ease.

“Missed me by a-” He swung his strings, “-Thread!” He slammed back down on the judgment hall tile, his blurry vision barely able to spot the dark orange against the orange of the room.

Bones suddenly sprouted below, and he yanked himself back, but Papyrus followed, nearly reaching close enough to touch. “Enough!!” He pulled his strings around, wrapping them around Papyrus and throwing him back. Laying on the floor pathetically. “You… seam a little tied up… heh-heh!”

He summoned two bones in his hands, “Don’t look surprised… I’m always the one pulling the strings.”

Just as he swung the bone, ready to end the stupid abomination, he stopped. He couldn’t.

“Heh… I was wondering if maybe you were holding back.” Papyrus started with a weak smile, “I guess I was right... You’re still a Sans after all.” Blue peaked in from the corner of his vision, but he stayed focused on Papyrus before him, “That’s why you possessed my bro… right?” His arm shook from holding the bone high, “Because despite everything. You’re still you. And we’re still brothers. No matter the universe… you still can’t hurt me.”

“...You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re right. I’m only guessing. But, my bro–my sans. He believes there’s good in everyone.” The strings fell slack again, and Papyrus stood up, “And… I want to believe that too. I don’t know what happened to you, or your timeline–but… I’m willing to bet anything you had friends and family there who loved you… Right?”

His vision began to glitch out, his skull hurting. It always hurt thinking about the past. Always something blocking it.

“And… if I ever saw my bro like this… Because I love him with all my heart, I would never leave him to suffer like this.” The tell-tale ping was barely heard over his static, the room darkening again with the battle scene.

He could feel the vibration of the bones drifting through and across the floor. Back peddling against it as the glitches made his sight worse. He needed to get out, now. 

Opening a portal behind him, he stumbled through. Barely hearing Papyrus again over his oncoming crash, “Buddy… is that where you come from? Heh… you can’t kill everyone I love and just run.”

“...you’re right.” There was still one more thing he could do. His strings launched out, attaching to that pathetically kind soul he could feel in the distance, his vision still worse than ever.

“Sans!”

“Pa–Papyrus!”

“You want him back?” Sans screamed his brother’s pitiful name once more, “Then come find me.”

“Papyrus help-!” The portal shut, and the poor little Sans stayed there in shock. Error just rolled his eyes, moving to sit on his bean bag, “Me…”

The voices flocked back. Always so desperate after he’d been gone for a while.

“Shut up…” He groaned, laying back, arms across his eyes, the swap Sans seemed startled, suddenly quieting his cries. “Not you.” He could hear fabric rustle as Sans turned, but he didn’t bother. With a flick of his wrist, he grabbed the little perfect soul again, yanking him up into the strings above.

It must have been sometime later when he awoke again. His eyes didn’t hurt as much anymore, the once flaring pain only rumbling under the surface now. Tolerable.

The soft snoring drifted down from above, loud in the silent space. But not quite. It was quiet, not silent. It was nice. He never thought he’d enjoy another’s company, but here he was. He would let the other sleep, he could entertain the voices a little.

The voices sometimes were nice, asking questions. Sometimes, he allowed it. Answering whatever odd things they asked. He brought down dolls as they talked, playing around with number eleven, twelve, and thirteen. He fucking hated thirteen. Didn’t have a reason that he could remember. Just always hated Cherry.

“Error, what about the others? Multiverse travelers? Like Gaster, Core, Ink, Reaper, and Dream and Nightmare? Even Nim?”

“Gaster exists I guess. Another abomination hiding that I’ll find eventually… Core is elusive.” He could hear Sans waking up above him. “I’ll kill them and all those abominations in their little safe world one day.”

“And the others?” His skull began to hurt again.

“...I don’t know them.”

“How was your trip outside?”

“Eh, alright. Still… noisy.” He could feel Sans wriggling in the strings, “But I brought a surprise for you all!” He grinned, carefully dropping Sans next to him, “Ta-da!”

The voices erupted in surprise and wonder, all of them talking at once “Hold on! One at a time! Stars.” He rolled his eyes, and Sans looked at him concerned. Worried even. “What?”

“Ar–are you talking to someone?”

“Duh. You can’t hear them?” The swap Sans shook their skull, “Fine, I can be a translator then.”

The voices were more than eager for someone new to talk to. All buzzing around excitedly. 

“Blue! How’s it been with Error?”

“Has he been an asshole yet?” He paused at the comment, choosing to keep the harsher words of the voices away from Sans.

“Oh, that’s your name? Error?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, Cool! Nice to meet you, Error.” Sans extended his hand, but quickly got the message when he cringed away from it, “Anyways, it’s been okay. I haven’t been hurt yet… I–I don’t like the… I dunno, suffocating quiet? It’s… overwhelming.”

“Have you put your glasses on Underswap Sans yet?” Sans looked at him questioningly, still not hearing the voices. He slapped the glasses on their face, Sans blinking at the sudden change.

“...I still put it off better.”

“As if, you ugly bag of bones.” He ignored the comment.

“Are you upset with Error at all? Do you hate him?”

“Well… yes. Very. But, I will never hate anyone. Hate… it’s a virus. Hating him won’t help. It will only make this all hurt me worse.” Cobalt looked to the ground, “And… Error’s hatred… that’s what caused the suffering of all my friends. Hatred only ever hurts.” They nodded to themself before looking back up in the general direction Error was.

“Wow. They’re nearly as pitiful as you. At least they got a perfect soul.” He huffed, and the voices moved on.

“Do you think Error could be a good person if he tried?”

“Well… yeah. I believe every soul has the potential for terrible evils- and incredible good. And the decision to be good isn’t always the easiest one.” Sans shrugged with a smile, “Sometimes you just… don’t know the way.” 

Hah. Being good. As if. He was the number one abomination. No hope left–nothing left for him. Nothing-

His vision began to glitch out, and he blinked it away. He let the strings around the swap Sans’ soul fall.

“You aren’t a threat at all.” He shook his head, honestly. It was pretty clear, but who knows what Sans and his brother were trying to pull back there? Had to be careful.

“Apology chocolate?”

“Do you like chocolate as much as this idiot?”

He scoffed at the voices, before opening a portal, smiling at number thirteen's angry cut-off yell.

“Here… as a… apology.” He shrugged, turning to Sans and pushing over a bar. His nonextant stomach panged with pain, “Fuck, it’s been a while since I had food.”

“Thank you… and uh, thanks for untying my soul. It- it wasn’t super comfortable.” Error just shrugged, tossing the chocolate in his mouth, wrapper and all. Sans looked on with a hilariously horrified expression, “What are you?!”

“A skeleton mostly.” He smiled innocently

“Hah. That’s a good one. Like you could ever be more than the worst monster of the multiverse.”

“What’s the antivoid like, Underswap Sans?” Sans took a minute to finish his bite before looking around.

“Um. Well. There are no shadows. And no noise. I mean, literally no noise.”

“Do you think Sans can’t hear us because we are just your imagination?”

“Yeah, you’re such a freak you’re using your imagination to make conversation…” He could hear the sadist grin on that voice's face.

“Stop.” He gritted out, uncaring of how Sans began to look at him. He huffed, sitting back with his arms crossed, “Next question.”

“Does Sans know about the multiverse yet?”

“The… multiverse?” Sans answered curiously as Error stood up, raising a hand to open a window.

“Oh, you don’t know about the multiverse? Guess I get to teach you then���” The window flickered through different AUs, “The multiverse is pretty large, but to dumb it down, every conceivable version of us exists… you are far from the first Sans! But hey, take some pride in being the first underswap to exist… still a bunch of abominations though… I really do hate them.”

“Uh, Error?”

“Ugh, what?” He snapped to the voices

“You should probably comfort Sans. He ain’t looking too hot.”

Error turned with a raised brow to Sans curled up against his bean bag in a little ball, hands clutched tight against their skull, nearly scratching himself if it weren’t for the gloves he wore. The hiccuping crying started again.

“He… hey… stop that.” He didn’t know how to comfort people. How were you supposed to do that? “It’s fine? You’re okay?” The noise was getting too much, echoing across the antivoid, “You need to stop… now.” A crash overcame him. Vision blacking out as he recovered.

He returned moments later, probably the shortest crash he had ever had. Sans began to laugh, “Shut up!”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” He repeated, but the damage had been done. He sat back down in his bean bag, Sans scooting a little bit away.

“What does Sans like to do for fun?”

“Oh, knitting is nice!”

“Oh? I know crochet and sewing… but Haven’t tried knitting yet.”

“Well, I can teach you!”

Things were calm and serene after that, just answering questions and growing closer, despite the circumstance. He could feel that shadow watching again. If Sans saw, they didn’t say. Knitting it turns out wasn’t hard at all, and he taught Sans crocheting and sewing in return. The least he could do. He even pulled up Undernovela for them to watch. Sans was very shocked by the affair between Sin and Tori. 

His little stuttering voice “T-the Queen?!” He could never get over that.

“Where’s your Toriel, Error?”

“Ugh… don’t-” His skull throbbed with pain, “Don’t talk to me about Tori…”

“They’re asking about Queen Toriel?”

“Yeah… they like to ask about my past… but there’s a lot of holes… I usually just bring up a window to calm them down. Show the past again.”

“You can show the past?”

“Well, yeah. It’s just a matter of going back in the records of whatever AU you want. Not that hard. Letting the voices watch my stories can keep them at bay for a while… haven’t done it for anyone… physical, yet.” He didn’t want to know what would happen if he did. But it was that, or deal with the voices' questions.

He breathes in, opening the window with shaky hands, “This… It's my earliest memory… although kinda patchy.”

The memory plays, and Error can’t help but look away at some parts. The voices mocking how he used to be. How good of a little destroyer he had become, he pulled up his hood and crossed his arms. Doing his best to look disinterested. Sans watched on with morbid curiosity.

The memories flickered through, fast-forwarding through all of his visits to that Toriel, until the fateful day. Finding out they were all ghosts. Just a bunch of abominations.

“Just like you, our number one abomination.” They reminded wicked smiles etched into their words.

When the memory turned dark, a battle scene playing before them, Sans finally turned away.

“I’m sorry Error. I… I just can’t. You guys can continue on without me! I’m still your friend Error. Despite this. Okay?” He turned to Sans, the other hugging himself as he inched away.

“Friends…?”

“Yeah, of course, Error.” They seemed confused, and he smiled. Looks like the voices helped him for once after all.

“...I see. Looks like I caught you… You dirty little liar.” He wasn’t deserving of friends. Just the deepest pits of Hell. Whatever Hell was.

“Liar? I don’t know what you-”

“Heh, Let’s cut the crap, shall we? Man look at you, ruining storytime! With your fake 'friendship’ nonsense and that stupid smile- it's making me sick.” He spat, sitting up from the bean bag, the voices rumbling with surprise and joy. 

“I… what do you want fr-” 

“I want you to be honest!” His voice started to glitch out, he laughed breathlessly, “Haha… Don’t you get it-? I destroyed your love. Do you know what this is?” His strings shot up, wrapping around that liar of a soul, the red determination tingling in his hand, “That’s right! A human soul! But this one? Is special. This was your human…” 

Sans’ expression turned solemn, just standing there and taking it, “...The final human your world needed. This human had the potential to kill, or save, everyone in your world. They were so powerful, they could even reset time. Go back, fix mistakes- they could undo all my hard work. First, I killed the time-traveling flower- And then? I imprisoned this human, so no one could reset. Don’t you get it? I didn’t just burst into your timeline and attack everything! I watched. And waited. And planned. I meant to hit your world where no backup plan could save you.”

Sans’ expression crunched with negativity, waves of confusing intent radiating, “...There it is. Anger. C’mon you wimpy Brat! Tell me what you really think. C’mon- C’mon C’mon! Be direct- I want to hear it.” They continued to say nothing, looking away. Eyes drifting from the floor out to their right, “Say something! …Stop Ignoring me! Stop it!”

“...You killed all of my friends. You… made me watch… as you tried to kill my brother. You… You almost made me murder Papyrus.”

Error laughs, “That I did! What are you gonna do?”

“...Nothing. I can’t do anything to stop you. Besides, I don’t think you actually want me to fight you.”

“Wait- What are you-” Sans takes a step forward, and Error cringes back, bold posture falling.

“You’re scared, right? Of me?” That was the farthest-reaching statement he had ever heard, and he had literal voices in his head. “I knew it!”

“What?!”

“That’s right, I gotcha figured out, Mr.Murderer! You were scared of fighting the magnificent sensational sans! That’s why you tied me up and traumatized me n’ stuff!” Sans stands triumphantly, one finger pointed in the air with a wink.

“You can’t be serious…?”

“I don’t blame you! But I also figured something else out! Your true weakness! That weakness? Friendship!” He feels the crash come on and leave faster than the last, he blinks away the glitches to no avail. Sans continues to talk, “Ah-ha! Knew it! But that’s okay! I’m here! I’ll help by being your first friend! C’mere Error! Gimme a big new friend hug!”

What!” His hands clench at his sides, he can feel his magic sparking in his eyes and hands. The glitches in his vision increase, and he could barely see Sans’ overconfident expression fall, “That’s it I’m done with you!” He can feel the pain oozing out of the other, and he takes joy in it. Serves him right, “Since you’re having so much fun playing games with me- I got a great new game to play with you! It’s called, leave the little brat in the anti-void Until he begs me to come back-” And with that, he turned and stumbled through a portal. 

The distant screams of help cut off. Echoing in the space of Outertale.

For a brief moment, all of it is suffocating. The sudden lack of anyone screaming at him. No voices to dictate him. No one at all. Alone. By himself. It’s quiet, pleasant. There’s the distant calm of everyday life for the space-bound people of outertale, and he sits on the rock. Distantly wishing that someone was there with him. Feeling as if someone should be there with him.

He sits alone.

--

I wasn't joking about the notes thing

#undertale #utmv #undertale au #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 71 #chapter 71 #error sans #underswap sans #underswap papyrus

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 70

Previous - First - Next

Warning: sudden episode/breakdown

“Hey,” A voice loomed over his shoulder. He knew Chronic was watching. Had known for a time, but he waited for the other to start the conversation. He simply sat still, staring at the collection that had grown in his room.

It was still somewhat frightening how long he had spent out of the antivoid, how long he had been permanently living with Nightmare and the gang. Photos pinned on the walls and standing in frames, gifts scattered about. Carvings, paintings, star charts, and plants were kept safe in his windows. Then the new addition, the set he couldn’t stop staring at, the dolls of the gang.

Some of the details were off, as expected from getting them from an Error from a different multiverse, but the details did leave him confused. Killer’s eye was gone, and his soul was shaped like a target, not like the heart that it had been for so long. Horror was much smaller, the same size as a normal sans rather than the bulky skeleton he was used to. Dust was also shorter, even more so than the Cross he knew. Then Cross, the red in his palate was confusing. The red eye and the red scar he had never seen before. He remembers hearing that Cross used to have it, but not anymore.

Cross, Killer, Dust, and Horror sat with woven smiles, smirks, and expressions of all sorts. Each just as perfect as the people they were representing. He had since added some dolls of his own, one of Hearts–to complete the gang, then Death Ink Nightmare and Dream sat with them. Ones of Chronic and Core were standing behind all the dolls.

He should probably be feeling something now, right? The emotion–the name on the tip of his tongue–stayed just out of his reach. Just like Chronic had been when they first met. He doubted he would reach it anytime soon.

The bed dipped next to him, and for a moment he was surprised that a shadowy figure could have the weight to do that at all, but, then again. Chronic had never been normal and always one to break his expectations.

The sunlight beamed through the room, and a flash in the corner of his eye caught his vision. Chronic fiddling with the token they had gotten yesterday. They seemed to like it.

Drifting his eyes up, Chronic stared at the plushes just as he had been. Their eyes seemed more unfocused than ever, a blur of particles the closest thing to any pupils. Yellow, purple, black, brown, and a bright cyan all intertwining. None wanting to back down, yet none taking charge. Their eyes finally settled down, cyan and black overtaking. Their eyes eased over to him.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to Omega…”

“Yeah…” He looked back to the dolls, the smaller, derpy little Blue in Hearts hand taking his focus, “...It has been.”

“I’m sure Sydney misses you,” Chronic urged, “might even see some old friends.”

“...will you be there with me?”

“If you want, I can. Not like we have much to do.” They chuckled, easing the tension, but it didn’t help much. Error only nodded his head, before opening a portal in front of them and walking through.

He could feel Chronic quickly attach themself to his shadow, following along as he changed to Lapse and took the back ways around Omega. He couldn’t help but notice the papers and magazines questioning where he went again. His computer was probably overflowing with emails.

Thankfully, he carefully avoided seeing anyone and made it into the Outsider easily, coming in through the back. Sydney was watching over the front counter, he ignored the whispers that erupted from him walking into the main area of the cafe.

A quick glare from the spider monster was all it took for the cafe to calm down, and Sydney ushered him to the VIP room.

“Boss, Lapse, you doin’ better?” Right, last any of his workers or friends knew, he was taking a break.

“Yeah… A friend I met on my travels had passed away…” Sydney's expression spoke of sympathy, “Needed some time to myself… how have things been here?”

“They’ve been fine, good thing those pesky news reporters are too afraid of me to get in-” Her voice was innocent, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the implication, “-but other than a fan crazy enough to try and find you showing up every once and awhile, things have been fine. Sure missed ya company though.” She smiled softly and he returned it.

“Sorry I was gone so long-”

“No, Boss, it’s fine. Don’t think anything about it.” Sydney paused, raising a brow, “Seriously. Don’t. I got your back.”

Noise began to cluster outside, and Lapse moved to peek out the window. “Oh, right. Blue and Cobalt were going to stop by for a to-go order, I better get down there-”

“-I’ll come with you.”

“You… ya sure, boss?”

Lapse nodded, following behind as Sydney parted the crowd around the two and brought them away over the counter.

“Lapse!” Blue exclaimed, “It’s been so long! How are you?” That smile was infectious as ever, and it reminded him again why Hearts loved the guy so much. Blue’s ring shone clearly over his button-up.

More of the crowd tried to gather closer, but Sydney was not having it. Keeping them a fair distance away to give them some privacy. The other workers behind the counter handed Cobalt their order as Blue and Error talked.

“Doing better now, sometimes a good break is all ya need.”

“Oh! Completely agree! That’s why Cobalt and I are here, actually. Getting some snacks and drinks for a small break before going back to work on the farm–would you like to join us? I don’t think you’ve ever seen it, you’d love all the animals, I’m sure. Especially Spots!”

“Who-?”

“One of our cows,” Cobalt interrupted, handing a bag to Blue as he held the coffee tray, “Poor Chrome, wish I’d known sooner they didn’t like Cows, or else I wouldn’t have offered.” Blue stifled a laugh, “Poor kid.” Cobalt shook their head.

So Cross had made it over there at some point? How often had he snuck away with Hearts as Chrome? “Are you coming with us?”

“...Sure.” He hesitantly smiled, and Blue returned it.

Blue maneuvered them around town, stopping now and again to say hello to the people of Omega, many were surprised to see Lapse out and about for the first time in ages. Instead of going to the designated portal area, they instead went to the Star Council building and up to Blue’s office.

“Dream, Ink, and I have a little loophole,” he explained while opening a portal, “Helps when we just need to go to the office and want to avoid everyone in Omega. Sure helped out Dream…”

“How is he? Haven’t seen him in a while either.”

“Alright, he’s closing himself off again, but-”

“-He can’t say no to me.” Cobalt smiled innocently, walking through the portal, Lapse and Blue following.

They arrived in a beautiful surface world, the sun was high in the sky and the clouds shaded the ground. He could look for miles out and still see nothing but plains and mountains, one mountain taller than the rest overlooking everything. Opposite the mountain in the distance, you could barely make out a large city. The Swap farm was giant, with fields as far as the eye could see on one side, a farmhouse right in the middle of it all, and on the other side of the road barns and stables.

The chickens, pigs, cows, and even some horses roamed freely, Honey, Blue’s Papyrus, watching over them.

“Heya you two,” Honey spoke leisurely, a lollipop held in his hand, “Hi there, newcomer,” Lapse moved closer and Honey made the effort to extend his hand for a quick shake, “Mode, right? Hear a lot about ya.”

“Just Lapse is fine,” He knew there was nothing to be afraid of, yet it felt as if there were more memories hidden. His hands still shook even after getting a bit farther away from Honey. He just hid them in his pockets.

Blue passed out the coffee and baked goods they had gotten as Cobalt led him towards the animals.

The chickens balked and clucked as they walked by, Cobalt snickering about their “balk” being worse than their bite. The sheep didn’t mind as much, simply staring. The cows practically ran to Cobalt, one much smaller than the rest knocking him over.

“Spots! Spot- calm down, girl!” Cobalt laughed, sitting up with the large animal stubbornly staying in his lap. Lapse crouched down to sit with them. “Anyways, this is Spots. Energetic thing. Her mama was pretty much Blue’s best friend, but Cinnamon mostly stays in the barn now. She’s pretty old.” He explained, petting the very happy calf. “The chickens prefer Honey, and the rest of the animals like Hearts a lot.”

Cobalt wrestled an arm out from under Spots and showed him pictures of Honey napping with dozens of hens and chicks sleeping around or on top of him. Another few pictures showcased Hearts grooming the sheep or riding the horses.

His soul panged, but it was gone as soon as it was there. He could feel that aura Chronic always had around them flare for a moment. If Cobalt felt it, he didn’t mention it.

“Oh, uh-” Cobalt tried to gently push off Spots, “Pftt, can you lend me a hand here-?” The cow spread more across him, and Cobalt laughed more, “Lapse- help!” He spoke through stifled laughs.

“Help!” The glitching figure screamed hand outstretched. Form pixelated and unrecognizable.

His breathing quickened, his soul beating fast. Blinking couldn’t get the image out of his mind, the scared expression burned in his eyes. He barely realized he had crouched into a ball, someone shushing and talking to him in wingdings. His tears burned against his cheeks.

It must’ve been some time later when he fully felt like himself again. A blanket had been wrapped around his shoulders and he sat in a farm-style living room, having fallen deep into the cushions of an old couch. Honey napped nearby, Hearts was reading a book in another armchair.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Hearts soft voice spoke, “You crashed for a while there, some hours have passed… I can get you something to drink if you’d like?”

“Uh–um, that’s alright.” He hastily declined, “I… I should get out of your way…”

“Are you sure? It’s more than alright if you need some time to reorientate, or need help getting home.”

“It’s fine… I… thanks.” His mind was far too jumbled to do much of any intelligent conversation right now, he could feel his glitches slipping away from him. He needed to get somewhere else, fast.

He quickly said goodbye, walking out the door and through a portal. Hoping to head back home–back to his room, but ended up in his Realm instead.

He could feel Chronic peel from his shadow, sitting him down near the edge of the broken island. The grass had grown yellow, looking even dirty brown in the dark purple light of the galaxy. The lake began to freeze over the top, his tree cracking, the ground crumbling. Pieces drifting away.

He had no clue how it had gotten to this point, he was fine. Everything was fine.

Chronic’s arm rested around his shoulders, and he could feel them begin to slowly break away his walls pebble by pebble. He couldn’t name it. Name the feeling that slowly trickled out of the dam.

“’S okay… I know… I know.”

His cheeks began to burn, and he stared into the abyss.

#undertale #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 70 #chapter 70 #error sans #LDM #chronic sans #swap sans #blue sans

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey - Our Birthday

Chapter 69.5

Previous - First - Errored birthday party 2022 - Next

It felt like some cruel joke. It had to be. There was no way he got an invitation. They technically shouldn’t even be invited.

Core stood in front of them patiently, outstretched hand still holding the invitation. He remembers watching as Error had accepted his last year, but for them to be included this time?

“You’ve always wanted to meet them haven’t you?” They avoided Core’s gaze, “I know it isn’t the same per se, but, it’s still them. They do not share the memories I have of them, but they are still the same welcoming and inclusive person I’ve told you so much about.”

“Still-”

“Chronic.” Core cut off, “Do you want to go or not?”

“Yes- of course!”

“Then go. Take the invitation, and enjoy yourself for once. You don’t have to watch over Error. You are free to do as you please. Just remember to bring a gift with you.” Core smiled, and he hesitantly smiled as well.

Even days after getting the invitation, waiting for Core to grab them and drop them off at the little meeting space that had been made, his nerves ate at him.

“We’ll be fine, we can always switch around if ya get too nervous too, that’s right! But, do not worry about us. Enjoy this, we know you did not get the chance before, so now you can.” He couldn’t help but shake their head, he really did love them.

“Chronic?” Core stood by a portal, “Come on, Error is already there. Just dropped him off.”

Chronic nodded, and a step through the portal, and he was there.

The room held a group of different Error’s all talking, none the same. Some taller, others shorter, no one–aside from his Error–reaching their height. His eyes spotted nearly a dozen people, mostly skeletons, a human amongst them, although one skeleton, in particular, looked far more like Ink.

“Chronic!” They cheered, running over. “I’m so happy you made it! I’m glad Core got the invite to you–Oh right, I’m Template. I organized this little birthday party.”

His voice felt caught in his throat.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Their voice dripped, and they could see their Error whip around to see them, “Thanks for inviting us.” Template seemed surprised at the multitude of voices but looked as if they dismissed it.

“It’s not a problem! We’re about to get started soon, so find a chair and then you can properly meet everyone, and everyone can meet you!” Then Template walked away, and their Error walked on over.

“Chronic.”

“Error, how are you?”

“Alright, everything considered.” He shrugged, “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Us neither, but here we are.”Chronic smiled, and their Error rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to them on the couch.

“Alright!” Template’s voice spoke up, everyone in their respective chairs or couches, “Welcome back everyone! And happy birthday to us all!” Template sat down, “Now we can do a quick introduction circle again, just your name and a bit about yourself and your multiverse.”

Template cleared their throat, “I’m Template, in my multiverse, I protect the AUs and fight against Pale!” He turned to the skeleton next to them.

“Errored. Original of you fuckers. Destroy AUs yada yada–do we really have to do this again?” Errored slouched in his chair, arms crossed.

“Yeah yeah tough guy,” The next person spoke with a smile, “I’m Strings, and my multiverse is swapped compared to the original. I run from Dream with Nightmare and Cross–and we’re humans. So that’s something.” Strings shrugged, turning to look at the skeleton cuddled up to their side, holding their hand.

“Ya can call me Glitch, was in a kinda fucked up multiverse, Gaster going crazy and Ink following along–until I ended up in Strings multiverse and running with them.” Glitch turned to Strings, “Also, ya forgot that we made peace with Dream.”

“Right, been so long I nearly forgot.” Strings shrugged.

“Lover birds aside,” The next skeleton joked, getting a few laughs out of everyone, “I’m Survivor or Viver. My Ink and I share PTSD from the antivoid, and all and all treat each other like brothers now.”

“You all can call me Star, in my multiverse Ink and I had a truce, even dated for a bit, but drama went down and we broke up and eventually repaired things. Now we co-parent this kid PJ and I’m happily married to Outer.”

“You lot call me Ru, Nightmare, and Dream had their whole deal, but we got a truce going and the gang and I are dating.”

Chronic’s eyes moved to the most unique out of all of them. Two skeletons in more stylized older clothing.

“Hello again everyone,” The Error of the two of them started, “I’m Edwin, and this is my Husband Neil, Neil used to be heir and King of the kingdom we lived in, but we ran away to live our own lives, and also ended up raising a kid.” Neil nodded along, probably their version of Nightmare.

Interesting combinations.

Agreed.

“Hey, Balance is what I go by here, Dream and Nightmare are deities in my multiverse, after some drama and misunderstanding, we all live together and got a truce. The gang’s more like a bunch of kiddos me and Night watch over, Fresh included.”

Their Error was next.

“‘Ello, last time I went by Deity, but Lapse is gonna be a lot easier for me, a second name I use in the Omega verse… Last time not much was happening, but now my memories of the past are coming back, and I’m connecting with the Stars and the gang. Then Nightmare, Death, and Ink too-? Are close to me, trying to convince Dream to be more comfortable with us still.”

“See, told ya, just took a bit for your story to get going.” Viver spoke up, “How about you newbie?” Everyone turned their attention to Chronic.

“Well, we are in the same multiverse as Lapse, although we’re the gatekeeper of our multiverse! Core acts as watcher and Error- ...Lapse is God of Destruction. Although we have a similar past to Lapse, it’d take far too long.” Chronic shrugged. He internally thanked them for helping so much.

“No problem big guy,” Glitch laughed.

“Alright!” Template stood up again, “Feel free to walk around and get to know each other, talk, catch up, whatever! Cake will be done in a little bit here.” Template smiled and people regrouped.

The two couples flocked to catch up, talk of weddings and how their counterparts had been. Others went to talk to Lapse, asking how he’d been and catching up on what had been going on with their truces in place. A few were collected in their own groups. On the other hand, Chronic moved to Template.

“Hello again, Chronic!” Template smiled, “Still so glad you came, if Core had told me last time I would’ve given an invite, honestly. Didn’t expect two Error’s in the same multiverse! Never thought the Strings and Glitches situation would happen again.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” Chronic smiled in return, bending a little to talk to the much shorter Template, “We were handling some things of our own, so there is no reason to worry.”

“Sorry, curiosity and all, we? Is that why you have… multiple? Voices?”

“Yes, we have a few souls under our belt, although we are technically still Error. He takes the front seat most of the time, at least with Lapse.”

“Oh, alright. I think I gotcha.” Template smiled, “Thank you all for joining us then- uh, should I refer to you just as Chronic together, or-?”

“Just Chronic’s al’ight with us.” He finally spoke up, and Template smiled once more, nodding.

The oven dinged, and Template ran off with a quick sorry, Lapse following behind to probably help with the cake.

It had been a long time since they really celebrated any of their birthdays, but this year, it was worth it.

The cake was there and gone, as to be expected with chocolate and a room of Errors. However, everyone stayed at the table, and a bowl was pulled out. “Everyone’s names are in the bowl, and we can randomly pick and if your name is called, you choose a gift from the middle. Each gift can be stolen at most twice before it can’t be stolen again.” Template explained while shuffling all the paper, “Lapse!”

With a small smile, Lapse reached into the middle, grabbing a present and tearing it open.

“A… token?” Lapse pulled a necklace from the small box, a shining token engraved with carvings dangling from it.

“I’m a little sentimental when it comes to coins.” Viver shrugged, Template moved on, drawing a new name:

“Ru!”

The token was quickly stolen, and Lapse sighed with a smirk.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Night would love this.” Lapse shook his head again, grabbing a new gift, opening the bag, and pulling out small toys.

Each toy was carefully knitted with sewn accessories, the appearance of each of the gang copied with detail. They were a little different than the gang Chronic and Lapse new, but still them.

Lapse seemed speechless, and Ru smiled softly. Template continued: “Chronic!”

With a mischievous smile, a shadowy tendril stole the token. Ru rolled their eyes and grabbed a new gift. “And that one is locked!” Template cheered.

Up close the intent roared from it, the sentiment from Viver apparent, but also the traces of creation magic. The taste of fake emotion and more sentiment. The vines carved into it didn’t die under his touch, and he traced the flowers with a smile.

It seemed that the presents got switched around some before he clued back into the party.

“Damn! Who made the blanket?” Glitch spoke up, holding the gift they had brought. A finely detailed blanket, the thread bleeding between dull colors of the rainbow and embroidered with a bright white and cyan thread.

They raised their hand. “Nice! How’d you get this detail? Took ages for Strings and I to get the quilt we brought done.” He pointed over to the plush quilt wrapped around Template’s shoulders.

“Practice, loads of it.” He chuckled, “And we spent a decent amount of time spinning the cotton before knitting it. Then dying it took us even longer.” Their voice switched around.

“You spun the cotton-? And dyed it yourself-?” Edwin spoke up, “All respect to you.” They smiled.

It looked as if that was the last gift, and everyone began to separate, Chronic stuck to a corner as Lapse said his goodbyes, waiting for Core to show.

Familiar magic entered the space, Template running to meet with Core, happy “hello”s, and catching up.

He smiled again, throwing the necklace around their neck, their shadows licking at the outer edge, souls thrumming to a slow beat until they finally stopped.

“Are you all ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

There was always the next year.

-

-

-

Recommend to read Errored birthday party 2022 as well ;} (Link at top)

If you liked the characters from this mini chapter, they're all (Aside from Errored and Template) from my own stories! Plus, their stories are much shorter than AEJ, so it's a much quicker read _:D something to read between chapters of AEJ...

VVVV

Strings and Glitch -> Double Stitched (Rewrite) - Trust me rewrite is way better than the OG fanfic, Glitch accidentally ended up in a swapped universe, what will happen with this new chance he's been given?

Survivor/Viver -> Putting Together Savorless Decisions (PTSD) - Short, but wholesome, nice hurt/comfort with a different take on the Ink and Error relationship

Ru -> I should - More Nightmare focused, still enjoyable and a different take on Nightmare with a more poetic one shot that evolved into a short story.

Edwin and Neil -> The King and His Aid (Season 1) Nightmare is heir to the throne, and must find a queen, but he doesn't want a queen, he just wants Edwin (Season 2) With a new start, what will happen? Who will they meet? Who's Gene?

Balance -> From Memories to Trees - Also started as a one shot, much more extreme takes on opposite ends of the spectrum for Dream and Nightmare mixed with some internal problems and alternate beginnings.

#undertale #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 69.5 #chapter 69.5 #error sans #chronic sans #nightmare sans #core frisk

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 68

Previous - First - Next

TW: Implied Dreammare

MAJOR WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER. Physical and mental abuse and harm on large and small scales are witnessed and discussed in this chapter.

The sun rose the horizon. The chimneys of the village began to bloom with smoke, farmers wandered about their fields, shopkeepers opened their stores, young children ran with the light of day. He watched as Ink followed Yellow from a distance, heading in the direction of the pitiful excuse of a town. He stayed behind with Purple, Ink and he had yet to say a word since the truce broke.

The voices called and screamed at him, he hardly heard anything but the chorus of voices anymore. He relied on his strings more and more to tell where he was, his sight still as bad as it always had been. His hearing and touch were all that was left for him. And taste, but all he really ate anymore was stolen chocolate. Cherry’s screams of annoyance always put a chaotic smile on his skull, just loud enough to break through the yelling of his mind.

He lounged in his branch, hidden by the lush green leaves of the old wood. Spring in full bloom, this AU the only thing keeping him attached to time anymore. By mid-morning, Purple began to move around, collecting grains and fruits for their breakfast in a woven basket, preparing for Yellow to return. Instead, others came.

His hearing may have been left for the voices, but it doesn’t change the malicious intent rolling off them in waves. The children seemed to verbally dig into Purple, and Purple seems to defend themself. The annoying kids leave, and Purple seems at a loss. Error makes a note to leave a new book for them tonight. That always cheered them up.

Yellow and Ink returned. Ink stayed a tree away, and Purple acted as if nothing had happened.

The days continue into summer, and those pesky children continue to come back, sneaking away in the morning light and running off before their parents can question where they went. One morning, Ink is away watching Yellow, and Error takes his chance to intervene.

Cloak wrapped around his shoulders, he approaches the children from behind, Purple hardly notices. Far too focused on keeping the distance between them and the small rocks being thrown at him. This close, he can finally hear what they had been saying. He would say he saw red, but his eye sockets had matched that for a long time.

“Freak!”

“Witch!”

“Dream doesn’t deserve you!”

“You’re a demon tempting our savior!” The last words no doubt copied from their parents.

His shadow casts over them in the orange light of sunrise, and from their angle, he guesses that they were able to see his face. He ignored their fright, the stuttering of some mythical demon name.

His smile cracks, and he allows himself to speak an old tongue. One he had always known, and the voices hated.

“Leave…” His voice trembles in wingdings, scaring the children further, running home screaming for their Mothers.

“...Thank you,” Purple spoke softly, a charming voice he had not gotten to hear as often as he would’ve liked. He just shakes his head, signing to them that it wasn’t a problem.

He reaches into his cloak, handing them another book, Purple seems taken aback, as Error usually left the books nearby or gave them to Yellow to hand over. “I… you don’t have to…”

He gestures more, silently waving the book closer, as if saying “take it” eventually, Purple nods, and takes the book. The cover is scrawled with illustrations and wondrous words. His eyes never like to work together to be able to legibly read any of them. One always wanting to see far away and the other see close.

“...Spells?”

Error shrugs. His voice glitched too much to ever be able to talk to Purple or Yellow without giving himself away, or scaring them. “...Can you not read the words?”

He shakes his head no, and Purple softly laughs, “Alright. Thank you, stranger.”

He wandered back into the forest, and removed his hood, returning to the branches of the trees to watch from afar.

The summer turned to fall and winter, and the years went by. Despite his intervention, the abuse continued. From what he could make out, the village grew with rumors of Purple being protected by a demon. Whatever a demon was. Human religion never made sense. Always changing the stories. The underground kept a better track of their stories and that was by word of mouth. He couldn’t help but nitpick everything they did. Although he could give them credit for miraculously surviving against all odds.

The village continued to grow until it reached the bottom of the hill that Nim sat on. The tree growing more and more as the negativity and positivity of the world fueled it. He took the time to teach Purple how to climb it. Yellow attempted to, but could never do it as well as Purple. They seemed to have a good laugh about it anyway.

Those insolent children grew into teens and adults. With the village so close now, they became more cautious but brutal with their abuse. Small rocks became sizable stones, branches thrown, but Purple grew smarter, and Error taught them how to survive.

Purple spent most of their days hidden in the tree until Yellow would call them down. Yellow didn’t seem to notice or pry about the bruises and dents in Purple’s bones.

The attacks grew more brutal, and Purple began to attempt to run, the villagers getting surprisingly good aim.

Each time Purple ran, Error followed suit. Leaping from tree to tree, trailing after the purple blur in the green and brown forest. Usually, he could silently direct Purple somewhere safe, leaping ahead to direct Purple somewhere safe while he misdirected the villagers with his strings.

One time, it didn’t work, and once was all it took for disaster to strike. He shoved the villagers away, pushing them back with gaster blasters as they screamed. Unfortunately, none died. Purple still lay twitching in the grass, he didn’t get close quick enough. Magic seeping from their wounds.

He carefully picked them up, biting back the pain of contact, and walked the trek back.

When he returned, the sun had set, and he could barely hear Yellow calling for their partner. The moon beamed down on the grove as he walked closer to Nim and Yellow.

Yellow turned around, startled to see him after so long, before running over at noticing Purple in his arms.

“Starlight!” Yellow cried, carefully pulling Purple into their arms. Error pulled his arms back as if struck by live wire, the burns of contact still stinging painfully.

Purple didn’t wake up, and Yellow curled them closer, pecking kisses on the bruises on their skull. Error turned back to the forest.

The barely intelligible “Wait!” made it through the screaming of the voices. How dare he intervene. He promised. He’s worthless. Nothing. He should’ve been beaten, not Purple.

“Wha… What happened?” Yellow spoke softly, tears rolling down their cheeks.

He had intervened enough, if Purple had not told Yellow yet, he will leave that decision to Purple. He carefully signed that it wasn’t Yellow’s business before walking away further.

“Then I’ll make it my business!” He stopped in his steps and turned back to Yellow, the moon gleaming down on them and Purple. “...Please. I need to know who is doing this to Starlight… please, stranger.”

Error sighed, glitching heavily, he couldn’t stick around much longer. Ink could see, or he could crash and be left to the whims of the forest and the village.

He stepped close to Yellow and Purple, towering over them, he crouched down, the hood still covering his face. He did his best to ignore the voices, hear the stirring of the forest, river, winds, and town once more.

Softly, his voice barely glitching, he spoke: “Stay near the tree. You will see.” Dream nodded, and he stood back up, lumbering into the thicket. He didn’t get far before Ink stopped him.

“I thought we promised not to intervene.”

“Promises clearly don’t mean shit to ya, don’t they?” He snarled, “‘Sides, ‘m not leavin’ Purple ta die in the forest… not like them.”

Ink paused, and silence wafted over them. Error pushed back his hood and properly looked at Ink for the first time in years.

Their outfit had changed at some point, their paints in a sling and brush behind them, scarf tattered and pieces of nature stuck in the abandoned string. Their gloves and accessories protected them from seeing any of the white on their bones, despite their shirt being white. Their bell pants nearly looked like a skirt, but by their hip hung the totem he had given them so long ago. They had since gotten a satchel for it, covered in paint and notes, yet the journal was as clean as the day he made it.

“...We made a promise, but I’m gonna stick to whatever broken-ass morals I have left in me.”

“Heh, morals, Error?”

“Shut it, m’ soul might be all but dead, but ‘m still kickin’.” He grunted, pushing past Ink with ease, and leaving to his antivoid to heal.

When he returned, it seemed it was at the right time, although it was far from a good moment.

It looked as if Yellow had taken his advice to soul, and he was standing in front of Purple’s battered body, yelling at the villagers. It was so amusing to see their shocked faces at Yellow snapping at them. Serves them right.

Yellow shooed them away, and carefully helped Purple inside their cabin before running off, likely to get some healing herbs.

The sun fell with the night, and the moon shone high, yet there was orange gathering on the horizon. As the candlelights of the village fell, more orange gathered in a clump, making their way up the hill.

The villagers.

They all carried weapons and fire, chanting and yelling made it through the voices in his head. A hand held tight to his shoulder.

“Ink-”

“Don’t.” Core’s voice echoed from another branch, back to the mob.

They watched as the mob approached the tree, and the strongest began to cut it down, his Soul bouncing in anger and rage, the most it had beat in ages. He could feel his body melting further.

Purple ran out of the hut, stopping them. They pushed Purple aside. The chopping wayed the tree, and the apples shook, one rolled down to Purple.

Purple ate it.

The boost of power must’ve been painful. The screams tore through the voices. His mind was quiet for once, only hearing the soft crying as Purple continued to bleed out. Suddenly, the crying stopped, and Purple attacked. They hurt all the villagers that had wronged them while taking more and more apples, Yellow came back to a great massacre.

“...Starlight?”

Purple turned back to Yellow, their form corrupted, the eye flickering between purple and a nasty cyan.

“Velvet… sun?” They seemed to slowly come out of their daze before one last villager snuck up behind them. The villager didn’t last a second.

A full cyan eye snapped back to Yellow, the last gleaming apple in hand. Yellow quickly ate it, tears rolling down their cheeks again.

Purple’s eye flickered back, and one last spell was cast before cyan corrupted them. Yellow turned to stone, and Purple feinted in the bloody field.

Ink’s gentle hand soothed his shoulder, and he could hardly feel the sizzling on his cheeks. He turned and ran back into the antivoid.

#undertale #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 68 #chapter 68 #error sans #ink sans #dream sans #nightmare sans #core frisk

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 67

Previous - First - Next

TW: Implied Dreammare

With time, it got easier to watch over the two young guardians. Ink and he took turns watching over them, giving Error a break to simply walk through the AUs. He still hates them, so loud and annoying, but he can appreciate them. The beauty of them at least. Take a page from Ink and simply appreciate the work that was put into it even if he didn’t agree with it.

With the new perspective, he did grow to enjoy the bustling cities and wandering forests. Sure, the stories were still often abominations trying to copy each other and still have something unique to them, but he could give them credit for world-building and character design when the plot failed for him.

Perhaps Nim’s neutral ways rubbed off too much on him.

Taking turns also gave Ink time for XTale. Although, he had hardly heard anything of the AU as of late. Granted he hardly heard anything of Ink’s life much anymore, their memory seemed to grow worse each day.

The sun fell from the sky, and Error adjusted his hammock in the trees, watching as the pair went into the old hut. Time had claimed it, the wooden boards old and rotting, but the two didn’t seem to care. They loved their home just the same. Error allowed himself to intervene a little here and there. Posing as an old wandered that had camped nearby. An old withered and tattered cloak covering his form and shading his face. Pale brown gloves protecting any recognition. He’d rather them not find out he’s the God of destruction.

He offered books for Purple, fantasy for the most part. Half of the time they seemed to simply fall into his path. If he could, he preferred to not have his glasses on–the voices didn’t like them–so he didn’t read much if at all. Might as well let Purple put it to good use. At least it seemed Purple could understand the books, reading them to Yellow under the shade of the tree.

For Yellow, he gave them things to help repair the poor home. Knowing of their lifestyle, he pointed to fallen trees and branches that could repair the boards and holes in the hut. Herbs around that were helpful or nutritious, ways to carefully catch animals. Yellow didn’t like when they got hurt, couldn’t stand the meat from any animal either. He showed Yellow the bountiful harvest that the forest could offer.

He was careful to make sure Ink never knew of his little pass time.

Error turned back to the project in his lap. Something special just for Ink. Also as a bit of a precaution. If Nim could die, what about him? He doesn’t remember any of his past. For all he knows, he isn’t immortal.

It had taken some time to make, so much so that the two guardians had grown considerably since, but it would be worth it. He spent long periods gathering and hiding the materials, helped often by Yellow. They wanted to make something similar for Purple.

He recycled the old from his Antivoid and destroyed worlds to make something new. What better to help Ink’s memory than a journal? The paper was difficult to make, but the earthy hide-bound book was worth it. The spine laced with his indestructible string and beaded with rocks and sticks from Dreamtale, traces of Nim’s magic still imprinted on them. He gathered so much he was able to make a nice accessory for one of Ink’s brushes. It might not fit Broomy, but certainly Broomy Jr.

His magic pulsed from the book in waves. Coded specifically to be endless, unique. Anything that Ink wanted it to do, it could. He was rather proud of it.

The moon began to rise, and the village that began to grow some distance away went dark as the candles blew out. It didn’t sit right with him, but he wasn’t supposed to interact, so he didn’t. As humanity always does, they will find a way to kill themselves off anyway. As long as they didn't hurt the guardians, he didn’t care.

He hopped down and entered one of his portals. It was time Ink got their gift.

The bright white of the doodlesphere thundered to Nightmare’s manor, Ink sat comfortably in his lap, the ancient tome he had been crafting moments before in their hands. Weathered but cared for.

He hated fading in and out of these damn memories. It hurt his skull to think about and experience. He breathed in, and let go of the anger. Just like his magic. Right now, there was nothing to do. With so few memories left, they were flickering. Not worthwhile enough to keep him stuck in them for long.

A wing stretched over, Reaper smiling softly at him. His mind struggled to remember why Death was there, barely grasping at the memories of Nightmare letting people in, welcoming Death and Ink into their home. Dream still an occasional guest.

He could feel the presence of the gang nearby. Their souls calm, resting safely. All very happy to have Error back.

Nightmare was elsewhere, likely working on documents again. The moon shone into the room from an open window, a cool breeze drifting in.

“Take your time, Soul, we have you.” If the gang heard, they didn’t react. Ink cuddled closer, and his vision faded back to white.

Blinding white was all he saw as he tried and failed to find Ink, going from each island, scanning each page. The house he had called home for so long was far from him now. Where was that XTale? Surely he would’ve found it by now.

Landing on a new island, he turned in a circle, trying to find anything out of place. In the distance the soft yellow glow of the main island, and farther off the battle of the void and antivoid.

The barest purple flicker caught his vision, barely noticeable in the white. He watched for a moment, confirming the weird blur of momentary purple was there before jumping down.

Close up, the heavy printed words “X-TALE” were dark against the white page, glitching. The only page left in the void around it. What was going on?

In the AU, everything was dark. A flickering unstable void. Ink and Gaster stood some distance away.

“It’s my greatest creation… wouldn’t you agree?”

“Sure- what does it do?” Ink, barely sociable yet somehow talkative as always.

“It overwrites. I’ve perfected it to be able to recreate anything… anything, Ink.”

“Even-?”

“Yes.” He cut off, but Ink didn’t seem to care. “But, for now, I will continue to test it… make my AU perfect, make the multiverse perfect- Even after so long… it’s not perfect yet.” He sneered, mumbling something much softer before shaking his skull. “Stay in my good graces, God of Creation, and this will be beneficial for both of us.”

Ink nodded, and Gaster left.

“Ink…” He was raging. Creation? On a multiverse scale? How in the stars was Ink allowing that?!

“Oh, hiya Kitten!” Ink smiled, bouncing over to him.

“No! Don’t kitten me right now-” Ink froze, “What. The fuck! You’re letting him fuck up the balance!”

“Well, he’s not really creating… he’s just taking the code from other things!” Why did he ever choose to care about this utter dumbass?!

“That’s still creating! If I take yarn from the store and needles it’s still creating a sweater!” The flickering flame was tampering off, but the candle stayed hot. And unfortunately much like the candle, he began to melt too.

Ink placed a hand against his chest. Eyes fanning concern, they must have taken a lick of their blue paint while he was on his rant.

“You’re melting… I? I’m sorry?” Ink tried, “I know you said to be careful of Gaster–but, he promised-”

“Whatever he promised doesn’t matter–He isn’t good. He’s fuckin’ breaking our truce! No creation. No destruction. That’s what we agreed on.”

“But… to be fair, it wasn’t his agreement.”

“You’re a literal God, Ink! It’s your job to make sure creation doesn’t fucking happen-” Ink broke eye contact, looking away guilty. “...Clearly the truce isn’t working. Y'know what? Fuck this.” He threw the totem at Ink’s feet, the emotions of care and love radiating from it. “I’ll see ya around, Ink.”

He barely saw a glimpse of Ink’s truthful hurt, before he turned around, leaving to the Antivoid.

The worst part was, whatever he was supposed to feel, he couldn’t bother with it. His soul was right, the anticipation–waiting to be hurt–rang true. It felt pointless to grieve over the loss, and he already knew he would grow to miss being at Ink’s home, holding them close. His soul slowed to a stop, and the voices ran back in.

#undertale #utmv #an error's journey #aej #aej chapter 67 #chapter 67 #error sans #ink sans #xtale gaster

[secret-time-is-here]

Apparently I felt like torturing myself again and I'm redoing the portraits again

To be fair, water color + smaller lines and better posing for character personality means Reaper doesn't look weird and shy like the way I drew him last.

Have a teaser

#undertale #aej #aej art #an error's journey