Archive of Our Own

Error was known throughout the Multiverse as a loner, who shunned every living soul around. The only catch was that the glitch himself categorically disagreed with such a description. He didn't run or hide from anyone — it was everyone else who avoided and didn't want to get close to him. Given his reputation as a destroyer of worlds, this attitude didn't surprise him at all, but didn't necessarily bother him either. After all, it's their loss. Those monsters just didn't know what they were missing, and it was their own fault they refused the chance to enjoy his company.

Although not everyone was as stupid, and some actually did themselves the honor of being interested in him. Nightmare's only miscalculation was that he underestimated Error, attempting to subdue him during their first attempt at negotiations. Error had to clarify their roles very clearly, leaving Nightmare with fewer intact bones than he had started out with. After which the lord of negativity disappeared, digesting this meeting for a long time. Before this encounter, he had seen that much narcissism, backed up not by recklessness but real strength, in only one monster. So after careful reflection, Nightmare naturally decided that even if by some miracle he managed to lure the glitch to his side by compromise or bribery — clearly threats didn’t work — he simply wouldn't get along with a duplicate of his personality in the team.

It's not like Error had a reason to fight him for leadership, but he tolerated absolutely no orders and commands. To come to an agreement, one of them would have to sacrifice their pride and be the first to make a concession — the price of which was too high for Nightmare to accept. However it was worth noting that unlike many others, the dark guardian still recognized Error's worth and power — not with fear, but with sincere respect.

It wasn’t the worst way to look at him, but in terms of attention, there was someone else in the Multiverse from whom Nightmare could stand to learn. A monster who met Error’s expectations and treated the destroyer exactly as he deserved. At first, the glitch didn't take the guardian who got in his way seriously, dismissing him as another noisy and arrogant idiot. But he soon became convinced that he had met a strength to rival even himself — which on its own was already an impressive achievement, but far from the only thing that highlighted Ink from all the other abominations. The most prominent of which being that his opponent was absolutely enthralled with him.

It would have been fine if this attraction was a simple aesthetic interest, but Error knew perfectly well that open offers of friendship — which already didn't fit in their relationship as sworn enemies — weren't the only attempt to get closer to him. The glitch wasn't sure when he first noticed the surveillance. Ink was surprisingly difficult to detect when he didn't want to be seen, and the absence of a soul quite successfully hid him from almost any magic. But the destroyer wouldn't be himself if he fell for this trick more than a couple of times. At first he thought the random appearances were a cheap tactic to find out his weaknesses, but he soon realized the actual reason had nothing to do with their battles at all.

The guardian was drawing him.

In some ways, it was almost incredible. Error had never suspected that in the ever-restless lump of paint there was such a talent for silence and perseverance — that he could stay in one place for hours and not give himself away. All for the sole purpose of capturing Error’s beauty on paper. Of course, it would have been much easier if Ink had just come up and directly asked for permission, but the glitch wasn't going to blame him for being careful. They were on opposite sides of the barricades, and although they exchanged taunts on the battlefield every now and then, their communication had stopped there. So the destroyer could understand the other's awkwardness to ask such an audacious request of him.

But even though the guardian refused to know how lucky he was, Error didn't mind the drawings of himself — not at all. He was actually very keen on the idea of being a model. Of course, no amount of creativity can surpass all the brilliance of his original self, but if there was one thing Ink was good enough at to impress even him, it was painting. And it was all the more pleasant to see that the artist decided to direct his talent in the right direction — to transfer onto the canvas the only thing in the Multiverse that really deserved it.

For this, the glitch was even ready to do the guardian a favor. Scrupulous care was put into choosing places worthy of his presence, and he did his best not to fidget during his rest so that it would be easier for his secret observer to capture all his perfection in another masterpiece. And if later Ink lost his notebooks for a while, the destroyer wasn't going to tell him where exactly they vanished. Some of the drawings were gone forever, preserved in his personal collection, but if the artist was upset it was only slightly. Usually these minor losses just led to more reasons for Ink to go and hunt for his muse again, routinely tracking Error down to his new resting spot and making up for the missing with more paintings — an opportunity the destroyer was only happy to provide.

There was something strangely comforting about the constant presence of the other, which had just enough distance that Error felt neither distracted nor were his boundaries broken. It turned into a small ritual at the beginning of each walk outside of Error’s Anti-Void — to catch the moment when the guardian would move to the same universe as him, and then try to find his new observation post. To be honest, the glitch still didn't know exactly how Ink was tracking his every move so accurately or how he could instantly understand when he was leaving to destroy or when he was just peacefully exploring an area, but Error didn't care too much. Sometimes he even found it funny to lead the artist on his trail by quickly moving between several universes, scattering hints around them and later watching through the screens how his opponent accepts his new game with enthusiasm and excitement.

When the destroyer felt generous, he even left Ink small rewards by very conveniently "forgetting" some of his belongings. Never anything too important, but he knew that it made the guardian go wild with delight. He had noticed this reaction a long time ago — after one of the losses, he had felt that someone was trying to collect the remaining strings on the battlefield that hadn't yet dissipated. Out of curiosity, Error didn't even withdraw magic from them, allowing the threads to persist, which led to periodic sensations of phantom and surprisingly gentle touches as the guardian stroked the stolen strings. After a little investigation, it turned out that the scraps of clothing he left behind suffered the same fate, even if he didn't know exactly where the artist took them or what he did with them afterwards. The glitch didn't care about that — it was another fact that had him outraged. Why was Ink content with so little?! If the guardian wanted to see a reminder of him every day, a couple of torn threads was practically an insult.

As always, he had to take matters into his own hands, and that's how among Error's plush creations there for the first time appeared a version of himself. Most likely his best work, to which he was most demanding, but the result was worth it. The little toy Error was almost exactly the same as the original, second only in that it wasn't the original itself, but every detail of his unique appearance was thoroughly taken into account and carefully cut out. He was almost afraid to give something so perfect to the care of someone else, but despite the fact that sometimes Ink could be absent-minded, experience showed that in matters of preserving any form of creativity, he was extremely devoted to the goal. So the glitch was calm about the fate of his small copy.

Although for extra precaution and just following a long-standing habit, he sewed a couple of his strings into the doll, leaving an imprint of his magic. This was done to protect the toy, as well as give Error some idea of what was being done with it, and if he wanted, he could always go and take it back if he felt that the result of his painstaking work was being treated inappropriately. But so far his expectations have been met — the guardian tenderly hugged the soft doll at night, and the rest of the time treated it carefully and with due respect, but at the same time not paying it more attention than the real destroyer.

However, this wasn't the only such gift. The artist was still trying to snatch his clothes for himself, but for some reason never whole articles of clothing, and in the end the glitch really got sick of it. That's why the next time he noticed that Ink was trying to hide another "trophy" he took after the fight, Error threw caution to the wind and pulled the torn piece of cloth from other's hands, mending his own jacket right on the spot — after which he forcibly shoved the unfortunate garment back to the guardian. He could always make a new one for himself, but maybe now this idiot will finally realize that he can aim for more.

Unfortunately, such reluctance was the only detail of other's behavior that continued to confuse him. Ink... was in no hurry to go further. The artist was ready to follow him almost literally on his heels, break into his Anti-Void while the glitch was asleep (or pretending to be asleep), and draw every one of his bones in amazing detail, and yet still didn't dare talk to him outside of battles. In a strange way, it was... annoying. A completely unnecessary restraint when Error knew that the guardian's plans and desires weren't limited to just simple observations.

The artist's sketchbooks were sort of like diaries, but even without notes some sketches spoke for themselves. Ink wanted him. Deliriously. Wanted to be the only one in Error’s life. And yet he locked all those thoughts away in his own head, his skull filled to the brim with lectures from the guardian of dreams, insisting that it would never work. That this isn't love, and that no one would ever accept it. What did that Dream person even know about him?! It's no wonder that with such moral-minded friends, this inkwell hesitates so much!

However… maybe, in part, the destroyer himself was in no hurry to admit that he was aware of the spying. But if, after all that he allowed the artist to do, Ink still somehow believed that the glitch would be against his tendencies, then this was clearly not Error’s fault. Well, if his opponent needed a more explicit sign, then so be it. He just needed to find the right moment. And such a chance soon presented itself, although not in the way Error had expected.

He was caught off guard. He relaxed too much and missed the moment when he poked into the universe, which was categorically against its own destruction. The inhabitants even had a plan specifically for the case of his arrival, and although such fame was flattering, the sudden and extremely tight grip with which they pounced on him was much less pleasant. His whole body cramped from the abundance of unwanted contact, leaving a gap in his defense and giving the local monsters a chance to attack. The onslaught was crushing. But quite suddenly, help came from where no one expected it. Instead of standing up for the residents and once again talking nonsense about goodness and justice, the guardian's brush fell on his offenders — on everyone who dared to leave at least one scratch on the tricolor bones, and the artist treated those who had been first to lay their hands on him especially cruelly.

When Error recovered a little and his vision cleared, he witnessed an incredible sight. Ink in a bloody rage was fascinating. Of course, the destroyer had seen him under red paint a couple of times, but even when their battles went too far, the artist didn't like to use that color and never allowed himself more than a few drops. The very idea of harming his precious glitch was too unbearable to allow himself to succumb to anger even in the name of saving the worlds, but the second Error himself was in danger, all barriers were knocked down completely.

It was beautiful.

The destroyer, perhaps for the first time, had an opportunity to observe his opponent in battle, without being distracted by the fight himself. Every movement of the white bones gave him an appreciation of the incredible flexibility of the guardian, and his blows were quick and sharp, like the swings of a whip, but at the same time crushing, like a good hammer. Broomie was a feather in his hands, but left only gray dust and the sound of broken souls from anyone who got in its way. The artist even used a rarer ability of his, and usual ink was replaced by a transparent and almost invisible, but extremely caustic solvent. Those who escaped death simply ceased to exist.

When Ink woke up from his haze, the attackers were already finished, all but a dead silence in the universe. Awareness of what was happening slowly returned to Ink’s mismatched eye lights, and the guardian was seized with horror. A quick inspection of the unfortunate battlefield convinced him that Error was still here and fine, and it gave him a slight wave of relief, but the panic didn't subside. The artist had no excuses for such an unusual act, and he didn't want to be seen like this at all! What would the glitch think of him now?! Well, the other did have something to say about it. Except it wasn't what the guardian could’ve expected.

"Thank you," Error smiled, approaching without fear and appearing surprisingly... sincere. The fact that Ink looked more like a crazed maniac right now didn't put him off at all. That was how most of the Multiverse imagined the destroyer of worlds himself, anyways.

"What...?" the artist squeezed out in surprise, having lost any words and still trying to process the reality of the situation. Error’s sudden gratitude definitely didn't add up to what he knew.

"You saved me, idiot. It's customary to thank someone for that," the glitch snorted, grinning even wider. Delight clearly bubbled in his eye sockets. "And the show that you put on — just wow! It's been a long time since I've had so much fun!" Error laughed, then stepped even closer and with the same excited smile exhaled: "You know, you could do this more often."

One simple phrase, said in such a cheerful tone, and the guardian's train of thought almost completely crashed. An embarrassed blush flooded his cheeks. Had he just been praised? After the horror that he caused?! Of course, Error was a destroyer, but Ink never thought that he would receive the first real (and frankly long-desired) compliment from his opponent in this way. And most importantly, the glitch was still standing calmly nearby — closer than ever — and seemed to be completely unperturbed by either Ink's appearance or his recent actions.

A lump of nausea rose in his throat as the artist asked hoarsely and somewhat eerily "Aren't you afraid?"

"Afraid?" The destroyer arched an eyebrow, and then burst into laughter again, as if Ink just told a good joke. Once he finished, he suddenly leaned close to the guardian and stretched out his hand, barely touching his stained cheek. Holding the other's gaze, he declared with fervent confidence "I'm impressed! And I don't say that very often, but I like you much more this way.

"By the way, I hope you don't mind if I finish with this universe? You've already done half the work for me. Or do you want to fight me too, just for propriety?"

"No!" The guardian immediately blurted out, perhaps a little too sharply. Fortunately, most of the aggression that could have pushed him to agree to such a careless offer left his body along with the paint. Ink cleared his throat and answered more calmly: "No, I... do what you have to." His expression darkened slightly as he muttered under his breath, "Besides, if this world resets, someone might remember."

"Yeah, I understand," Error nodded, already spreading a network of his threads around the world and digging into the console. "We don't need any extra witnesses, do we? It would be a huge stain on your reputation."

The artist shuddered, but said nothing, silently watching as emptiness began to envelop the space, taking dusty landscapes with traces of ruthless slaughter into the depths of oblivion. Usually, after the destruction of an AU, all entities that didn't belong to it were scattered into adjacent intermediate spaces, and Ink was sure that their strange meeting would end there. But at the last moment he felt himself grabbed by the hanging sleeve of his jacket, and immediately closed his eyes when his vision was burned by a bright whiteness that seemed to eat away at any color. The guardian carefully blinked, and then stared at his opponent in confusion. He could be wrong, but from what he remembered it was the first time that Error invited him — practically dragged him into his dimension.

"Why did you...?"

"Have you seen yourself? Are you sure you want to go home like this?" The glitch responded skeptically, but although slight reproach crept into his tone, he completely ignored the fact that the perfect cleanliness of his Anti-Void was now shamelessly spoiled.

Ink looked down at his clothes and grimaced. He really had snapped and didn't think through any consequences. He wasn't even sure if any of it would wash off — it would be easier to burn the whole outfit and draw a new one. And it seemed that the destroyer was thinking the same.

"Take off this nightmare, I'll erase it. Trust my experience — monster dust can be extremely stubborn. You can't get rid of this many magical stains with any sort of bleach. While we’re here, I'll finally sew you something decent. Consider it a thank you."

The artist widened his eye sockets in shock, not sure that he had heard everything correctly, but parting with his own outfit suddenly became much easier. Even if the need to completely expose himself to his enemy and object of obsession turned his brain to mush. However, the reason for his growing embarrassment quickly changed when Error also threw off his own dirty clothes, while simultaneously opening a portal to some world with hot springs in it. Without thinking twice, he pushed the gawking guardian right into the warm water, soon joining in after. The natural bath pleasantly warmed the body, tickling the abrasions and bruises left after the battle. But Ink almost didn't notice it, instead fascinated by Error's bones, uncovered for the first time. Surprisingly, the destroyer didn't care about their nakedness at all, along with the artist’s gaze riveted to him once again.

"Like what you see?" The glitch asked smugly, snatching the artist out of the dreamy haze and clearly having fun with a somewhat predictable, but not at all disappointing reaction. The other blushed harder and opened his mouth to somehow justify himself, but Error just waved it off before Ink had a chance to speak. "You don't have to answer. I've seen what you draw in your free time."

"You know?" the guardian gasped, and a sickly pallor was added to the flaming blush. If he had a soul, it would definitely fall right to the floor.

"About the fact that you signed up as my personal stalker god knows how many years ago? Yeah. You're not that good at hiding, Ink," Error chuckled condescendingly, clearly pleased that he had figured out other's plans. Yet for some reason, he wasn't trying to be indignant or gloat about it.

The artist no longer understood anything, and his ability to feel surprised was slowly running out. However the green vial, like all his paints, remained on the other side of the portal, so he had to use what he had.

"But why… You're just… You didn't say anything!"

"You didn’t either," the destroyer instantly retorted, but an accusation once again didn't follow.

It was rather a dry statement of fact. In many ways it was easier and more convenient to be silent, but there was a limit to where they could move without a normal dialogue. And the glitch had long wanted more. He shrugged.

"Although I don't know why you tried to hide at all. Not to mention the places you would choose. Seriously, you couldn't see anything properly from there!" Error leaned back on the wet stone and, as if in mockery, exposed his chest above the water, drawing attention to his brightly colored ribs. His sly grin widened as the guardian's gaze moved exactly where he expected. "It's much clearer from this distance, isn't it? I would know. Plus I noticed that you have difficulties drawing details at close angles."

Ink swallowed hard, barely breaking away from the overly generous demonstration and instead peering into other's face, searching for something that hinted this was all a trick. All this was too good to be true, and the artist had been doubting the reality of what was happening for some time, suspecting some oddly pleasant dream behind all this. But sweet night fantasies didn't come naturally to him, and Dream would definitely never send him something like this. So the only thing left for him was to accept that all his fears and desires decided to come true at once.

Ink’s eye lights involuntarily slip again, gazing along the neck and below, greedily skirting the lines of glitchy bones. At this distance it really opened up a much better view, letting Ink distinguish a rough texture, a smooth transition of colors and small bits of lags that didn't spoil the picture, but added uniqueness to other's appearance. Yet the most attractive thing wasn't the ribs themselves, but what was hidden behind them, something Ink would never have thought to be honored to see. Shining with a peaceful blue and illuminating the chest from the inside, there rested a fragile fragment of the soul. The whole essence of the destroyer, so tantalizingly exposed, which somehow made the absence of clothes even more revealing. His hands itched, but he couldn't figure out what exactly it was — a desire to take up paints or a desire to examine such an alluring nature — to stretch out his fingers, to press, touch…

The water suddenly seemed too hot, and the guardian jumped out into the cool air retreating from the source of his temptations. Dirty gray streaks dripped from his tattooed bones making the water murky, but he had already wiped away most of the evidence left from the recent crime scene anyway.

"You mean you'd just let me come over and draw you?" Ink asked incredulously, mostly to distract himself from his raging inner demons. "In battles, you constantly keep your distance and never let anyone near you," he reminded Error, and disappointment — almost resentment — clearly slipped into his tone.

Their fights were the only place where the artist had an excuse and an opportunity to get close to his muse, but the destroyer stubbornly avoided direct conflicts, instead using strings, blasters, and sometimes even random monsters taken under his control, just to avoid meeting his opponent face to face. And this, for obvious reasons, upset said opponent.

"Because I have a long-range fighting style, you idiot! It's not my fault that my strings work best from far away," the glitch suddenly rose defensively, and to prove his point, hastily summoned a couple of threads, wrapping them around other's ankle, quickly sending the guardian plunging into the water again — with a surge of splashes. Then after a moment Ink surfaced and indignantly stared at him, Error added: "But I don't remember ever saying that I'm against the company when I'm not at work. Besides, you obviously know how to keep your hands to yourself, considering you've limited yourself to just staring for that long."

Ink squinted, and something dangerous flashed in his eyes for a second. He really doubted that last line. Not with such blatant provocations. However, the reminder about it suddenly upset his mood, and the artist almost instantly wilted, staring into the darkening water, when just as murky and gloomy colors bubbled up in him. The hot spring was still pleasantly warm, but a cold shiver struck his body anyway.

"So you don't mind that I... watched? Dream says it's creepy. And that if you find out, you will definitely hate me."

"Sure, keep listening to all sorts of jerks who don't know shit about me," Error snapped, and for the first time in this conversation his voice shifted back to something more like his usual manner of speech. However, he softened surprisingly quickly, assuring: "I haven't forbidden anyone to admire me yet. Yes, I am a destroyer and all that, but even for me it would be too cruel."

The echoes of bright colors glowed in Ink's eye lights again, and the guardian slowly raised his head, looking at the glitch with such awe, as if the other had just personally handed him a soul. Was it... permission? Did Error want him to continue? It was almost impossible to believe in such happiness, but why else did the destroyer so calmly let him close and now was saying all this? Ink swallowed again. Endless possibilities flashed before his eyes, but thinking further in this direction was too dangerous if he didn't want to lose the tiny chance that he wouldn't be rejected. If only this sweet illusion could last a little longer.

"By the way, where are we?" the artist asked belatedly, looking around the forest landscape surrounding them, although even now he tried not to turn away from the destroyer completely, constantly keeping him in sight. The place was also quite beautiful, but he didn't think that he had ever been here, although until now he was sure that he knew by heart all the worlds in which Error preferred to rest.

"The empty universe, somewhere on the fringe. I have to bathe somewhere from time to time. Otherwise, I would have looked just like you today after every battle," the glitch responded complaisantly, vaguely waving his hand, and then almost casually mentioned: "You can write down the coordinates if you want. Will be something to add to your sketchbooks."

The guardian blushed all over, but actually did save the name of the AU.

It took about half an hour to get rid of the last traces of the taken lives and, now clean, they returned to the Anti-Void, where the destroyer remained true to his word and immediately set to work. He disassembled the unsuitable clothes into the code, and then stole a whole pack of brown-beige fabrics from somewhere and, instructing the artist not to move, began trying on a new style. Ink helpfully sketched the design himself, but besides that he surrendered to the mercy of the master of his craft. For some reason, sewing had never been his strong point, although in almost any other art form he had a head start over most everyone. But it was all the more fascinating to see how the shapeless fabric turns into something that comfortably fits the bones and emphasizes his individuality.

The new outfit was much simpler than the old one, but it was no less stylish. In fact, it made it much easier to move, giving free rein to Ink's true speed and agility, which promised to be a good advantage in battle. At first, the guardian didn't quite understand why Error would give him something that would improve his chances of winning, but the glitch just grinned and made him promise not to hold back next time. He couldn't wait to experience everything he saw today for himself.

Working on the costume itself was a fascinating experience as well. Previously, Error sewed only for himself and his dolls, but working with a full-size model turned out to be interesting in its own way. Ink was a docile puppet in his hands, obeying the orders of the destroyer and taking all the poses necessary for taking measurements. Even if he took it upon himself to turn his head sometimes at unnatural angles so as to not take his eyes off the glitch's work for a second. Error only grunted at this, only once giving the artist a slap to keep the neck straight — when he was working on the collar. He also didn't forget about the belt, having embroidered each pocket for such valuable glass bottles with the perseverance of a true perfectionist, and then began to work on a long knitted scarf.

The idea of replacing it bothered the guardian especially — mainly because it meant transferring all the relevant notes, and some things there were very, very personal. However, his opponent surprised him once again, and instead of trying to peek, he honestly turned away and took care of his own clothes while Ink was digging through texts and memories, trying to figure out what was important and what was not. And even when the artist finished, the glitch got rid of the last remaining evidence quickly and without looking, more concerned about how the new addition to his own outfit in the form of a bright pink boa looked on him.

The fact that when erasing something, the latest data is automatically copied to the buffer, the destroyer decided to keep to himself.

Ink left the Anti-Void still slightly confused, but under a wild dose of yellow paint. Although somewhere deep beneath it, he was still restless. Knowing that some of his secrets hadn't been secrets for a long time turned out to be even more frightening than thinking that the other didn't suspect anything. Because the guardian wasn't sure what the glitch was already aware of and what he wasn't yet. He said he didn't mind the drawings… But would he mind everything else? Error agreed to the meetings and even gave unspoken permission to exterminate his enemies — preferably in front of his own eyes, but his eternal opponent was always seen by Ink as wayward and... freedom-loving. Such a person is unlikely to agree to sit within four walls, isn't he? Even if these walls are metaphorical and represent rather the boundaries of a small pocket world.

The artist had been ennobling this place for a long time, striving to make it perfect for someone already perfect, but he was afraid that it would never be worthy of the one for whom it existed. This, however, didn't prevent him from continuing to try to improve it, hoping that one day these efforts will pay off. Fortunately for him, what has just happened has significantly strengthened this hope.

This was somewhat different from how the guardian imagined their rapprochement, and he definitely didn't think that the first step to so fervently desired would be the disclosure of his darkest secret, but now, having seen the outcome, he honestly couldn't think of a better succession of events. The destroyer has already done things that hint, if not at sympathy, then at least at mutual interest, but never before has his position been so clear. The glitch didn't care about the falsely "proper" image of the guardian, into which Ink so vainly tried to squeeze, and instead he wanted to see the artist in his true colors.

Always presented as an impenetrable wall, the boundary of what was allowed blurred, and the guardian just needed to find its new lines. If any existed at all beyond his imagination, because Error seemed ready to encourage absolutely any signs of attention in his direction, no matter how strange or morally ambiguous they might be. Rather, on the contrary — if for his sake someone had to suffer, the destroyer was only amused, and he seemed to be deliberately pushing Ink to the most dubious ways of expressing his affection. Moreover, he gave special preference to expressions of possessiveness and audacity, but less radical signs of sympathy also didn't go unanswered.

Small gifts ceased to disguise themselves as accidentally forgotten things, just as they ceased to be so small, and Error himself suddenly increased in responsiveness. Conversations lost the most hackneyed phrases, and meetings on the battlefield were diluted with meetings outside of it, even if the destroyer needed several more times to "unobtrusively" invite the artist to walk with him after the fight, so that the other realized that now it was a viable and even preferable option, as opposed to his, as it turned out, not so secret stalking.

The battles themselves have also undergone changes. Amazingly, the glitch listened to his opponent and decided to mercy him, as an experiment, trying to move the fight to the middle distance. He knew better than to risk getting into hand-to-hand combat right away, but for him it became an interesting challenge and a test of his own strength. Meanwhile for Ink it was an indescribable joy when he managed not just to win and thereby end the meeting with his beloved enemy, but to catch him and temporarily capture him, so instead of breaking up, they could spend even more time together. Another concession on the part of Error, but it was worth it, because the opportunity of taking the entire destroyer as a trophy raised the guardian's spirit quite well, revealing his more aggressive side, and this made even the most ordinary fights much more exciting and interesting for both of them.

As for the losses, even they became much less disappointing, and instead of fleeing to his dimension with disgrace and shame to lick his wounds, now any damage was his opponent's care. A task that the artist approached with even more dedication than when he tried to repel the attack on the world. Ink was ready to carry the destroyer in his arms — which he did with pleasure every time he got a chance — and always very carefully and meticulously painted over even the tiniest scratches that could break the perfection of the tricolor bones. Usually, Error's code dealt with such trifles on its own, but the glitch wouldn't be himself if he refused excessive attention, and after a hot and passionate fight, such gentle care was really appreciated, bringing calm and relaxation after an intense activity.

After which, having had enough affection, the destroyer enjoyed all the delights of his imprisonment — soft pillows, sweet offerings and a dedicated caretaker who was ready to keep an eye on him for the next week. At such moments, Ink seemed genuinely happy and as open as possible. You would think that the guardian should have kept Error away from his dimension as far as a cannon shot, but something about the fact that the glitch was in his home, pleased, peaceful and happy, brought Ink incredible satisfaction. It was also the only time when the artist dared to make more selfish requests, justifying it as a pay for his victory. Error was more than fine with such an excuse, which was enough to suppress his injured pride, and he himself encouraged his opponent to take advantage as long as the situation allowed.

Although even with the provided freedom of choice, Ink didn't roll out as many demands as he could, putting the comfort of his captive much higher than his own wishes. This slightly bewildered the glitch, but he didn't complain, because it allowed him to decide for himself what he would allow and when, effectively leaving him at the helm of their little game. This became particularly useful a little later when the artist finally felt comfortable enough to voice a more serious desire of his.

Unfortunately, the request didn't come out as confident as Error had hoped, but he could understand why. There was a firmly established belief that the destroyer had haptophobia — which explained quite "peculiar" plans for self-defense of some universes in case of his invasion — but in fact it was not so much fear as disgust. Being a creature of Void, the glitch very reasonably put himself above ordinary mortals, and therefore considered the very idea that these miserable abominations would dare to touch him nauseating and vile. In the entire history of the Multiverse, there were only a select few whom he considered worthy of such an honor, but, all things considered, he had been thinking of including Ink in this list for some time now.

The destroyer had already begun to move in this direction, allowing the artist to touch him through the clothes, to cure his bones with a brush during treatment, and he even handed the guardian a puppet of him with feedback sewn into it, which allowed Error to catch everything that felt his little copy. However, so far all this contact has been indirect and incomplete, and the glitch knew that if he wanted to raise the stakes further, real touches were only a matter of time. He just had to decide exactly how it would happen.

The artist has definitely established himself as a devoted follower, and he was the only one to whom the destroyer paid reciprocal attention, but part of the secret of keeping the interest is not to give everything at once, making you want more. Rewards should be gradual and well-deserved, and in this regard, permission to touch seemed quite an impressive prize to be given out at the first request. Admittedly, Error worried that he would be completely overwhelmed if he even hinted at the possibility of contact at all, but, as practice has shown, this concern was clearly overstated.

The guardian was, in fact, tenacious, but not the way the glitch imagined it. It was as if there was some very clear barrier separating everything "allowed" and "prohibited", and more often than not, Ink understood the new permissions too literally. So when the destroyer, in an act of incredible generosity, finally held out his hand to him, the artist immediately grabbed the offered palm and refused to let go until he made a detailed tactile map of every tiniest bend in the structure of the bones. However, this was the only part of the body that he encroached on, clearly making a conscious effort not to brush even a millimeter above the wrist.

At first, Error was somewhat amused by such meticulousness, until he realized that the artist considered this a new boundary, and wasn't going to even think about the possibility of going further in the near future, even if it was just a drop in the ocean of his true desires. It was a very strange logic, but the more the glitch tried to let the guardian closer, the more he noticed its signs, and the more it annoyed him. What's the point of teasing and giving hints if any desired reaction was suppressed like this? Of course, it was nice that his handouts were accepted with all due appreciation and respect, but he didn’t decide to encourage other's mania only for Ink to refrain from such exceptional generosity of his, and definitely not for him to be content with just the bare minimum.

The destroyer had to explain on his fingers and for idiots what exactly he expected from his stay on other's territory, but after a dozen absolutely stupid clarifications and repeated questions, a consensus was finally reached. So after all things for once discussed and settled, the post-combat care program received a new addition in the form of the full course of massage, which the guardian was revealed to be just insanely good at, adding further misunderstanding why Ink persisted so much and didn't share this talent earlier. Although the glitch still disliked the idea of touching from pretty much anyone, he never regretted that he made an exception for the artist. It was something very special to feel how all the terrifying strength of the guardian, which so easily moved mountains in battle, was invested in gentle but confident movements as he slowly stroked tired bones, adjusting the slightest shifts of joints and mould the perfect sculpture of his idol with skillful fingers.

Such sessions left Error in a pleasant haze and barely able to move, while the desire to leave other's abode evaporated for good — or at least for the entirety of his temporary incarceration, almost making him regret that this incarceration is temporary. Something in which they agreed, because every time Ink let him go, he did it as if forced and with obvious reluctance. It would seem that the idea of detaining his captive for an unlimited time was obvious and easy to execute, especially given the lack of resistance from the glitch himself, but the guardian once again seemed to lack the courage to do so. A week was how long the destroyer stayed as a kind of guest for the very first time, and since then the artist has taken it for an unshakeable constant, not daring to change it even for a minute. Such a lack of initiative was again a little disappointing, but fortunately, not everything was so hopeless, and not in everything Ink was so constrained.

His creative impulses not only didn't decrease, but intensified many times. With the voluntary participation of the glitch in the composition, the guardian had the opportunity to dump all the ideas accumulated over the years on his object of adoration, and most of them fell to the destroyer's liking. He especially favored the idea in which the artist wanted to portray him as a king, and he already had a luxury and appropriate feather shawl, but he didn't settle for an ordinary throne and immediately aimed for a higher place. Namely, he caused a stir in Reapertale by breaking into the great sky palace and occupying the throne room of their supreme deity.

As for those who got in his way, they became an excellent addition to the background, helplessly dangling in the hard grip of the magic strings. However, this applied only to those who looked for problems themselves, and for example, Reaper didn't join this web, because he didn't even try to prevent the invaders. One look at the crazy couple was enough for him to decide that it wasn't worth it, and he let the jerks have fun without him. Besides, Reaper thought it was high time the king of the gods was pushed off his pedestal. The main goat of the divine pantheon really spoiled the life for both him and his beloved, so instead of going up against the guardian and destroyer duo and trying to win back his world, the god of Death, on the contrary, took advantage of the opportunity and went on an indefinite vacation, arranging a long-awaited honeymoon for himself and Life.

As for the painting, it was a tremendous success, proudly taking its place in glitch's growing collection, which he also no longer hid, now openly hanging Ink creations on threads, along with souls and puppets. This very clearly contributed to the fact that the artist began to show and give him his works himself, saving the destroyer from having to resort to theft again. Although even here the artist managed to stand out, and after realizing that his sketches would be seen by the one depicted on them, the number of obscene drawings temporarily decreased, limiting themselves to anatomical construction rather than enticing shapes. Error had to shake all the nonsense out of Ink's head again.

Thank the Void, in this particular case, the guardian didn't particularly persist, and it was enough just a couple of times to properly present the nature so that he returned to the previous artistic direction. Unfortunately, in everything other that creativity, Ink remained an impenetrable idiot, and even with all the freedom provided and numerous pushes, as if out of spite, he continued to act dumb and hold back. It didn't help that it was exactly the kind of conversation that Error extremely disliked and avoided in every possible way, believing that everything should be as clear as day from his behavior alone. But where hints didn't help, jealousy worked flawlessly.

The chocolate incident was a very telling example. At that time the glitch became a frequent guest in one AU, and this was only the second time when the destroyer showed interest in someone other than his pursuer. The first was his temporary prisoner, whom Error at some moment took from his world and locked up in the Anti-Void for a few days before surprisingly peacefully letting him go home. Ink then paid the poor monster a visit to dispel his worst concerns, as well as to clarify what would happen if he suspected even a hint of sympathy between them. What the artist didn't know at the time was that the glitch just wanted to see his reaction, and the whole kidnapping trick was just for that.

Although it was worth paying tribute to the little monster — he wasn't afraid of threats and even expressed understanding, swearing that he felt only respect for the destroyer and nothing more. That meeting as a whole left a very strange aftertaste, because at the end of a brief dialogue, any desire to kill a potential rival evaporated completely, while Error at the other end of the Anti-Void was quietly choking with laughter, knowing that he couldn't have chosen a better person for his intrigue. He had high standards, and taking someone random wouldn't be nearly as interesting.

Underfell, however, caught the glitch's attention for different reasons. The destroyer had a sweet tooth and periodically robbed random AU for chocolate, but after tasting the bitter version of the aggression-soaked world, he realized that he had found his favorite, which was the reason for regular visits and the following misunderstanding. An incident that Error was in no hurry to clarify, peacefully hanging in an ink cocoon and watching the scene unfolding in front of him. Something about furious Ink was incredibly thrilling and breathtaking for him, finding a vivid response in his magic, and the glitch reveled in every moment when the other threw off the mask of pretense and showed his true self — which, unfortunately, didn't happen that often.

Partly due to the fact that among the possible enemies or fans of the destroyer there were not so many who were ready to confirm their feelings with actions, and therefore most of the time the artist simply didn't have targets to eliminate. Although the infinite uncertainty, which Ink for some reason drank almost liters of, also left its mark, and Error still couldn't understand why the other continued to shackle himself in such unnatural limits for a soulless being. But if anything, it made the moments of reveal only more valuable, and only when it became clear that if he didn't intervene, the intimidated to pale grayness and stuttering Fell wouldn't live, the glitch finally bothered to clarify what exactly he was looking for in this AU.

Of course, it was a pity to interrupt the guardian in the most interesting moment, besides Error didn't really care what would happen to the local monsters. However, if mistake number thirteen was turned to dust, he would have no one to steal chocolate from, and garbage disposal would become much more boring. So even if it meant that the beautiful massacre was postponed for the next time, the realization that just a couple of his words were enough to completely change the course of Ink's thoughts and actions was no less pleasant and amused his ego just as well. Also, you just had to see Red's face when his universe was literally gifted to the destroyer.

In any case, with or without a spectacular fight, what the glitch arranged all this for came after anyway. Overwhelmed with jealousy, the artist became extremely possessive and insistently demanded his company — behavior that the glitch found much more pleasant and desirable than everlasting and absolutely useless timidity. It was truly fascinating to watch the guardian's protective instincts skyrocket, not because of some stupid anomaly, but in the name of Error's well-being.

Being completely honest with himself and his feelings, Ink was determined to give the destroyer happiness, but also to prove that this happiness is possible only next to him. That only he was able to fully appreciate, capture, and preserve the other's essence. Error couldn't wait for his little guardian to stop being trapped by fear and finally exalt this part of himself, dedicating his existence to a much more significant goal than the protection of these pathetic universes.

The destroyer has even prepared his final gift for such an occasion. The most valuable thing he had, and the artist just had to prove that he was worthy, that he wanted it. Such a simple thing in Error's opinion, and yet Ink managed to make it incredibly difficult. But this time the glitch had no doubt that he had found a solution. If his idiot needs something obvious, then he will make it as obvious as possible.

However, before turning his plan into reality, there was one last important thing that the destroyer had to deal with. Something he had suspected for a long time, and which he couldn't allow to ruin everything. Error had never believed that a soulless guardian could develop such strong restraint on his own, and a little investigation only confirmed this, leaving no doubt of outside interference. Imposed shackles of morality, to which the artist has never had a predisposition, and which only pulled him back, drowning him in dark colors and almost self-hatred.

Just thinking about it made the glitch's magic twist in pain, boiling in blinding rage. He was the only one who had the right to mess with Ink's head! And he certainly won't tolerate his favorite toy being broken right under his nose! Fortunately, he didn't need to guess for long about the identity of the offender. The guardian rarely paid attention to anyone other than his opponent, and therefore had only a couple of acquaintances whose opinion meant to him at least something. Which, along with numerous notes, narrowed the circle of suspects to only one monster, to which Error went for an explanatory "conversation", temporarily holding the desire to immediately erase him from reality.

If Dream dissuaded the artist, then he should have known what he was dissuading him from. To catch and tie the dreamer up was a matter of technique. It's even strange that Nightmare still had some difficulties with it, but the glitch never thought the octopus was equal to him, and this only proved his indisputable superiority. The interrogation that followed was brief and the very first question results in a heavy sigh and strangely dismissive "So he got to you after all? I told him it wouldn't end well." After that, the angry destroyer shook out a couple more details, and then handed over the narrow-minded guardian of positivity to the already familiar Swap!Sans for a forced lecture on "How to support friends properly and not bring them to the damn meekness just because not everyone is such a delicate flower like you." Blue promised to treat his new ward rigorously and with style.

While Error himself, having blown off a little steam and calmed his soul, went to lure out his personal stalker. He was going to make a huge scene.

Meeting the guardian was the easiest part of the plan. The other docilely followed on his tail as soon as the destroyer stepped outside of his domain, but this time Error wasn't in the mood for their usual games. A serious frown caught the artist off guard, and Ink even threateningly looked around, as if in search of those who dared to upset his beloved glitch, and whom he should kill. A cute gesture that almost melted Error's soul, but he didn't let his mask slip. The guardian, not finding the obvious reasons for the cold reception, came closer in confusion, this time looking for possible injuries.

"Are you okay? Has something happened?"

"You happened," the destroyer immediately responded, rudely interrupting other's concern, and his opponent froze as if from a blow. It was painful to see how Ink's shoulders fell and slouched, making the already small artist seem even smaller. "You've been trying my patience for a long time, Ink."

"I'm s-sorry," the guardian said compliantly, not even trying to justify himself or at least clarify what exactly he was guilty of. Instead, the apologies sounded disgustingly learned and accepting, as if he knew in advance that something like this would happen, and others's disappointment was only a matter of time. "If I did something..."

"The problem is what you didn't do," the glitch interrupted him again, and although most of his annoyance was feigned, such a reaction on the part of the artist suggested that the dreamer got off too easily, and in that regard the anger was real. His hands were practically burning in his pockets with overflowing feelings, but the moment hadn't yet come. "I've given you plenty of chances, but it's like you keep missing them on purpose. And you should know better than anyone that the one thing I hate most is being ignored. I'm tired of waiting!" With each word, the destroyer became more and more inflamed, stepping towards the guardian and shortening the already small distance, with the last step looming over him like a menacing shadow and demandingly blurting out: "When will you kidnap me already?!"

There was a deafening silence.

Ink was ready for any kind of swearing, condemnation and aggression, but certainly not for statements like this. His face contorted in surprise, but the shock was just as quickly replaced by panic when the artist coughed and awkwardly backed away.

"W-what? What makes you think that I..."

"Oh, come on," the destroyer grimaced, offended by the very attempt at denial. "You keep too much personal information in writing and publicly available. But the problem here is not what you want, but why you don't do anything about it! If you keep avoiding it, you will never get it! And by the way, which of the two of us devoted himself to being a stalker here? So why the hell should I be the one who is chasing you?!"

The guardian couldn't believe what he was hearing. And it wasn't just words, but the sincere indignation in the other's voice — the destroyer was serious. Ink opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to figure out what to say to this, but none of the excuses hammered into his inky brain were suitable for that kind of a complaint, leaving his skull empty and Ink himself frankly lost. The colors mixed wildly with each other, pushing to the surface a muddy and illegible mixture with a slight taste of deja vu, but this time the shock was much stronger.

His cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame, though unfortunately it wasn’t in the positive shy sense that the destroyer had hoped for. But that's why he prepared something that promised to add motivation to his artist by raising the stakes and pulling out his last trump card. His hand left the pocket in a deliberately noticeable gesture, and Ink's previously wandering gaze was immediately riveted to a suspiciously familiar glow illuminating something in Error's palm.

The guardian didn't immediately understand what he was looking at, but what he did recognize was his opponent's magic. The blue strings were woven into a thin lace ribbon, in the center of which shined a small ring, as well as several loose threads that hung from the edge, forming decorative loops. However, what attracted the eye most in this kind of jewelry was the longest of these loops, the end of which formed a pendant. But instead of a gemstone, beads or figurine, the string was threaded through a hole in a fragment of a living soul, the azure light of which perfectly harmonized with the surrounding weave, creating a complete picture.

Ink's eye sockets widened, and his expression brightened briefly, this time drowning in outright awe. The artist could appreciate the artful work when he saw it, and although he already knew how talented the glitch was, this was something more, extremely special and absolutely perfect. Priceless. And the destroyer wanted… The meaning of the open outstretched hand suddenly dawned on him, and Ink almost choked on a sudden surge of greed, followed by a new portion of horror that rose to his throat in the form of treacherously bitter nausea. He swallowed hard and barely audibly squeezed out:

"Error… Y-you can't…"

"It's not up to you to decide what I can and what I can't," the glitch immediately cut him off, and the soul flared up colder in the tone of his words. He didn't make so many concessions in order for the guardian to back down again! "It's my essence, I do what I want with it. So either you accept my offer here and now, or I'm leaving."

He even took a step back and began to turn around, giving weight to his threat, and this was the last push Ink needed to break down. In the blink of an eye, the artist closed the distance, and in the next second an incredible force pushed the destroyer into the nearest wall, pressing him into the cool stone. The rough surface scratched his back through his clothes, and, losing coordination for a second, Error slid down the sloping surface, this time allowing the guardian to hover over him. Ink's hands closed into a solid trap on either side of his head, for the first time aligning their faces and bringing them closer than ever before. The glitch shook off a herd of goosebumps and light lags, but found that he didn't mind this new position.

"I won't allow it," the guardian breathed out raggedly, and the short phrase echoed in the black bones with a pleasant thrill. Error's mask cracked, and the destroyer couldn't hold back a satisfied grin.

"Hah, finally. That's much better."

The praise exploded vividly in the artist's mind, but whatever impulse inspired Ink for this action, it almost immediately faded away. A shiver ran through his body, and his hands clenched into fists, crumbling the stone against which they rested. The answer came out hoarse, but any threat or danger was overshadowed by the previous panic.

"If I take you now... I won't let you go."

"And that's it?" the glitch raised an eyebrow, barely restraining himself from mocking tone. "As if it should have scared me. You're not planning to torture me there, are you?" he asked skeptically, and the question shook the guardian like a good slap in the face, forcing him to rapidly recoil, but this time not so much in fear as in indignation.

"What? Of course not!"

"Exactly." Error gave his silly stalker a light strike on the forehead, and then sighed. "I heard from your sunny 'friend' what a horrific dream you hold. You don't want to mutilate me, but rather lock me in a basement and suffocate me with happiness and comfort."

"It's not a basement..." Ink responded faintly, feeling a sudden surge of embarrassment. He was suddenly struck by the realization that the result of the painstaking work of all the last years had a very real chance to be seen and judged, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

"What is it then?" the destroyer sincerely inquired, not sharing the other’s concerns in the slightest as he leaned closer.

"Do you... really want to know?" the artist asked just as quietly. He was still a little incredulous, but the dark colors had significantly faded, spent, and now in his expression was showing only a faint hope.

"For void's sake..." The glitch rolled his eyes wearily. Why did this idiot guardian always leave him no choice but to be honest? "Look, I've been out for walks so often only to tease you. Previously, I rarely left my Anti-Void, and even before that I had already had the experience of being in confined and closed spaces, so this doesn't scare me. The only reason I really need to leave is destruction, but we are going to the battles for worlds together. They won't stop you from watching me. As for my other needs, you know them better than I do, and something tells me that you have already taken care of that. So, are the excuses over, or should I go look for a bolder admirer? Nightmare, for example, has already shown interest."

The last sentence was an openly blatant provocation, but it hit right on target. The scarlet eye lights reduced to two narrow slits, while the artist's voice once again broke into that pleasant growl.

"Don't you dare. He doesn't know you like I do, no one does. You don't need anyone else!"

Error only gave a cheeky grin, defiantly looking at his opponent.

"Prove it. And keep in mind that I won't let you go after that either." He handed the lace ribbon to the guardian and this time slightly lifted the ends, demonstrating the absence of a fastener. There were only a few short strings on the edges, which seemed to be just waiting for the moment to catch on to each other and become a single continuous weave.

Ink stared at the unusual jewelry for a few more seconds, but he knew his answer already the moment he first saw it in Error's hands. The artist relaxed the scarf and almost impatiently threw back his head, exposing his neck in a submissive and vulnerable gesture. The destroyer smiled again, this time triumphantly. A thin strip of fabric pressed against the white vertebrae, and the magic stirred slightly as the ribbon became one and adjusted to the right size, fitting the neck tightly enough to hold on to the bone, but loosely enough to not choke him. Not that Ink would be against that second option.

The glitch critically examined his work, carefully straightening the decorative loops and as the final touch drawing attention to the bizarre pendant in the form of his own soul. It shined happily in its new place, but keeping it in plain sight like this was risky, which could easily be proved by the example of any Killer. However, Error thought about this from the very beginning and made an appropriate correction in the design.

He pulled back Ink's collar and allowed the last loop to slip, which caused the fragment to fall into the other's chest. The threads were long enough for the soul to hang only slightly above the center, almost where it should be located normally, and the guardian shuddered, feeling the warmth spread over his ribs. Magic aggressively explored the new space, clinging to the patterned bones and penetrating into every part of his body, effectively filling the empty shell that became its second vessel.

"Well, how is it? Not too much pressure?" The destroyer asked as soon as he was sure that the weave was sitting right, although a bit of arrogance crept into even this question. It was as if he knew exactly what his soul was doing to Ink and just wanted the guardian to say it out loud.

"It's wonderful," the artist replied with a trembling sigh, gently running his fingers over the lace, studying the texture and getting used to such a unique addition to his outfit.

Closer to the center, the knuckles bumped into the cool metal of the ring, and Ink blushed slightly, as he remembered what such gifts meant in most of the Fell worlds, unintentionally wondering if Error had put the same meaning into his creation. A new wave of heat rose in his chest, and the thought immediately seemed silly. It meant much, much more.

The glitch just nodded complacently, enjoying both the other's reaction and the image he created. Ringed by his magic, the guardian finally seemed complete in his eyes. The destroyer rarely appreciated the aesthetics of anything other than his own reflection, but only this time he was able to slightly lower his standards and admit that his little artist looks almost beautiful. Only because Error perfectly matched both this jewelry and all his clothes, but still. It was almost a pity to distract them both from the admiration, but he soon had to address something:

"Then, since everything suits you, how about taking your gift home?"

Ink immediately raised his head, as if waking up from a trance, and the very next moment the destroyer was picked up in his arms — impulsively and somewhat roughly. For the guardian, Error seemed to weigh nothing, and the glitch never tired of being amazed at how much strength was locked in such a fragile-looking body. And all this strength was ready to bow before him. The idea truly caressed his ego, but in his joy, Ink clearly overcompensated his grip. Not to the point of pain yet, but noticeably, as if he was afraid that the destroyer would suddenly change his mind and run away from him at the last moment. Error winced and gave his idiot another slight hit.

"Hey, take it easy with the valuable cargo! I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry!" the artist responded out of habit, but instead of the previous uncertainty, now his voice was practically overflowing with determination. Something that the particle of living magic pulsing in his chest could well contribute to.

Eye lights froze in excited stars, and paint began to bubble at their feet, covering them both and pulling them to distant coordinates known only to the guardian. The passage turned out to be liquid, but not as nasty as Error imagined, and led them into a small pocket universe, which was clearly arranged to suit his tastes. Once inside, Ink relaxed a little and this time calmly released the destroyer from his grip, carefully placing him on the ground so that the other could look around.

So the glitch did just that, first raising his head and appreciating the picture of the starry sky, which created a convincing illusion of space. It captivated him for a few minutes, and only then, fully satisfied with the view, he turned around and critically looked at other interior articles. There were no walls, and instead everything was arranged as if on an open terrace, although even so there was minimal furniture — only including the most necessary. The center was occupied by an impressive pile of beanbags, on which Error instantly plopped down, continuing to gauge his new property from a lying position.

His gaze lazily wandered over the TV and refrigerator, noting their presence, but his attention quickly shifted towards the "creative corner". He had expected Ink to store his things here too, and there were indeed enough of his paintings — mostly unfinished works that the destroyer had yet to add to his collection — but the drawing tools occupied only a small part of the materials, and much more were fabrics and yarn. Everything was surprisingly neatly sorted and obviously of good quality — the sight alone made Error's hands itch. Even though the guardian could neither sew nor knit, he definitely knew how to bribe someone through art supplies.

Which reminded Error that they still had to transfer from the Anti-Void everything that Ink had drawn him before, as well as other personal things that could remain there. Although some of his belongings have migrated to the artist a long time ago in the form of numerous trophies and gifts accumulated over all these years, the most important of which, of course, was glitch's little plush copy. The toy sat proudly on its own luxurious pillow and looked well-groomed and beloved, which gave him enough confidence that the guardian would take just as good care of the real destroyer.

A vast pond located a little further away only strengthened this idea, instilling comfort with its appearance and promising pleasant relaxation in a familiar environment. The glitch has always preferred the open space of natural reservoirs to the claustrophobic closeness of ordinary bathrooms, and he had some idea about where Ink got the inspiration for this particular landscape. The modestly furnished universe was completed by many mirrors arranged around the center of the terrace in an almost complete circle, so that wherever Error turned his head, he could always appreciate his own incomparable face. A detail that won an extra smile from him. The guardian knew him well. Plus, Error had already decided that he shouldn't be that picky, considering that all this was done only for him.

"Congratulations, Ink. You've created something that I don't want to destroy," he praised, turning around, only to discover that while he was looking around, the artist wasted no time and was enthusiastically tinkering with the boundaries of the universe.

The destroyer quickly scanned the code and grunted in approval. The lock was strong. Practically a work of art in terms of encryption, which made him give Ink a very impressed look. Of course, if he wanted, the glitch could break it. No blocking would stop him for long, but he had long agreed to play by other's rules, and so far everything was fine with him. Or rather, almost everything.

He summoned a single string and hooked it on a ring designed specifically for this purpose, with the next movement easily pulling the guardian to himself. The other was taken aback for a second, but this wasn't the first time that Error used threads to move the artist to the right place or pose, so Ink quickly relaxed, sitting down on the pillows next to him and getting ready to listen. Although glitch's next words once again shook his already shattered idea of boundaries, as Error blithely suggested:

"Since I'm finally here, have you decided what you're going to do with your new acquisition yet? Carving, tattoo, maybe a brand? It's a little wild, but I'll indulge you just this once."

"I..." The guardian faltered, but one glance at his opponent was enough to realize that the other knows too much, and continuing trying to deny is useless. "I've been thinking about it a little, but I don't want to hurt you." It was true, and yet his eye lights treacherously slid over the destroyer's shape as his thoughts ran away with him, already vividly fantasizing what a wonderful canvas Error's body would be. Then as if reading his mind, the glitch arched on the beanbag and without any hesitation lifted the edge of his clothes.

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you brought me here just to keep watching from a distance."

The artist swallowed loudly. Error knew exactly which strings to pull, and the idea was far too tempting, so after a pause Ink finally gave up, but offered a safer option:

"Just paint will do? It's the easiest to remove if you don’t like it."

"Fine, if you want to start small," the glitch quickly agreed, even though there was a slight hint of condescension in his tone. "But know that the rest of my offer is still valid. Besides, even if I end up unsatisfied with something, my glitches will erase everything that I don't want to keep. Plus, you have your healing paint, and previously you were very scrupulous in using it," Error listed with a grin. Then as if to emphasize his calmness, he leaned back further on the pillows, which only made his shirt lift up more, giving a complete idea of what the artist was offered to work with. One of the mirrors caught the reflection, and the destroyer's face became especially smug when he prettied up and assured with absolute confidence: "You can't spoil what is already perfect, squid."

Ink just nodded absentmindedly, once again captured by the seductive sight and processing other's words while the new possibility fit into his head. Then a couple of minutes later he suddenly jumped up and rushed to the creative corner, burrowing into his old sketches. The guardian had to check his scarf several times, but finally the right sketch was found, and he just as quickly returned to his place, handing the glitch a slightly crumpled piece of paper. The lines were not as clean as on more completed works, but the main idea was traced enough to spark interest in Error's eyes.

"Then it should be stars. I want to adorn you with constellations," the artist excitedly blurted out, as if a dam had burst inside him, and now he was barely restraining his creative enthusiasm. "Gold should be a good contrast for you, but we can try different colors. Although I will have to rework all the patterns… It was a bit of a spontaneous idea, and I didn't really think I would be able to… But if you don't mind, it changes everything!"

The destroyer only laughed, returning the rough sketch back and watching as Ink had already started to outline a new version. His eye lights were quickly jumping through the shapes, and it was nice to see the guardian so passionate for once. Especially when the source and recipient of this passion was Error himself.

"Know that I expect the best from you," the glitch grinned in simple inspirational words, and for someone else it might have seemed like additional pressure and excessive demands, but Ink only lit up with greater zeal. He won't let Error down! Never again!

For a few minutes, the rush of imagination completely captured the artist. At some point though, he looked up from the paper and again stared at the monster that occupied his beanbags, as if the whole reality of what was happening had only just dawned on him. Error was here. He had agreed. Moreover, he offered himself! It was too unbelievable and almost impossible a thought, and yet the pleasant pressure on Ink's neck and the piece of warmth that flared in his chest left no room for doubt, keeping the guardian in the delightful and stunned realization that it was all real.

His glance unwittingly slid to Error's own collar, and Ink a little belatedly realized that the destroyer's offer had hooked him much more than he initially thought. The artist wanted not only to paint on something so beautiful in front of him, but also to sign his work. To put his name on these contrasting bones, in a visible place, not even for someone else, but so that every time the glitch admired himself in the mirror, he knew who he decided to stay with, who he wanted to belong to. The mere thought made the guardian dizzy, and Ink didn't notice how he quietly exhaled:

"You really are here."

Simple words, but it seemed that only by saying it out loud, the artist was finally able to accept the miracle that had happened to him and shut up this insistent voice inside that screamed how unworthy he was of all this. Error just chuckled, unable to resist another tease:

"I could have been here much earlier if someone had invited me here himself," he responded with mock resentment, but halfway through his face was distorted by an unpleasant memory, and the next sentence came out much more serious and sincere than the glitch intended: "I know who hammered this into you, but I'm not happy that you preferred his opinion to mine."

The reproach leaked into this phrase was not directed at Ink, but he still shuddered and instinctively shrank. When the destroyer put it like this, it really sounded wrong. But the dreamer wouldn’t have wished him harm when he gave his advice, right?.. The second guardian was Ink's only friend, and he put so much effort into helping the artist to become a better person, so that they would both be loved and supported by the universes. It was only thanks to him that Ink knew how much of his behavior was unacceptable, especially if he wanted to earn the attention of a real living being. It was bad enough that the guardian was a soulless empty shell that no one would ever tolerate around, and even Dream undertook to help him only because of his infinite compassion.

Ink should have appreciated that. He should have been grateful. And yet, looking back, he saw nothing but streams of dark paint and pitifully soft, but so obviously disapproving looks. A burning bitterness gathered in his throat, and the artist was no longer sure that he believed himself when he gave out the uncomplicated reason for his long-standing choice:

"Dream is a guardian of emotions. He knows more about relationships than I do."

"That's why he completely screwed up his relationship first with his brother, and then with you?" Error snorted derisively, frowning harder as the artist shrank back in place again. "And don't even try to say it's your fault. He can pretend to be some kind of immaculate angel who always knows what's best, but ask yourself, has he ever respected your values? Has he ever tried to understand them and where they come from, or did he just immediately say that the whole world and I in particular will hate you for it?"

Ink didn't answer. He didn't have to.

There was a short but surprisingly peaceful pause. The destroyer literally emitted irritation, and yet his words seemed strangely warm, partly due to the fact that his every emotion flowed through the artist directly, burning his ribs with distorted, possessive affection. Yet this, despite all the rudeness, felt much kinder than anything the guardian of dreams had ever said to him, always hiding behind cloying politeness and a sugary smile. Ink even wondered how he could have believed Dream for so long, but the other definitely knew how to inspire a sense of safety and did a masterful job in never looking like a threat. But that was probably what made him the most dangerous of all. Ink had a very special intuition for things that could come between him and Error, and yet the light prince somehow managed to lull his vigilance. His eye lights lit up scarlet, but the artist suddenly dropped and became gloomy when he realized one more thing.

"I can't kill him, right?"

"Unfortunately," Error confirmed reluctantly, although the very idea amused him. "But I've already found someone who will take care of him, so don't bother your little head with his pathetic existence. You already have a much better candidate to occupy all your thoughts."

His words reverberated with another pulse inside Ink's chest, so bright, so hot, literally burning out any thoughts and emotions that wouldn't be about him. The guardian definitely had to get used to this, but he was only glad to feel the other's feelings for himself in such a straightforward way, especially when there was so much demand and need in them. And he was ready to pay the glitch back a hundredfold for every tiny crumb of attention. Plans for revenge instantly faded into the background, lost in the depths of his consciousness, and instead the artist followed the advice and fully focused on his opponent, to Error's obvious pleasure.

"Then I want to know what you think! From now on, I will always listen to you, I promise!"

The destroyer pretended to be seriously considering this, while not even trying to hide how much these words fed into his ego. But no matter how pleasant the idea of full power over the guardian appeared, he came all this way with slightly different plans, and their game was always more interesting when Ink could decide for himself.

"I'm not going to tell you what's right and what's wrong," the glitch finally decided, shrugging his shoulders a little. The boa he loved so much almost fell off one shoulder, but he held it in time, lightly stirring the feathers and twirling the tip of the pink shawl between his fingers. "But if you want to be with me, then first of all don't hide your thoughts from me. Personal diaries are entertaining reading, but I'd rather hear about how much you adore me from you, rather than stumble upon this information retroactively in some writing. Or through magic, when you try to practice self-binding using my strings again."

This was said with such carelessness that Ink almost choked. His skull flashed with bright spots of mostly magenta and pink, to which Error theatrically raised an eyebrow and playfully clarified:

"You haven't forgotten that I can feel them, have you? Or maybe," The destroyer tilted his head slightly, breaking into a Cheshire cat smile, and his tone became openly teasing: "you knew perfectly well that I could feel them? That's why you chose my threads and not something else?"

The guardian howled softly and fully hid his face in a scarf, after a couple of minutes confessing through the fabric:

"Ordinary ropes were torn up too easily."

"Oh, and that's the only reason?" the glitch purred, keeping the same sly and probing look. A slight movement of the hand, still clutching the thread connected to the ring, and the ribbon on Ink's neck tightened slightly, pulling a ragged sigh from the artist. Ink squeaked with embarrassment, but after realizing that Error read him as an open book, he gave up and added:

"This way I also could imagine that it was you who was doing it. I wanted you, so of course I wanted your magic. It was the best option."

Judging by the way the next tension of the string knocked him down on the pillows and pressed him closely to the glitch, this was the correct answer. Other's hand touched his cheek, this time for real, gently stroking the stained cheekbone and insistently bringing their faces closer. Something in the atmosphere changed, as if suddenly becoming much more intimate, and destroyer's glitched voice sounded almost gentle as Error whispered:

"Here, it wasn't that difficult, was it? Later we could fully discuss your passion for shibari, and how I can improve it. After all our battles, you should know that I like to catch you in my strings no less than you like to find yourself tied in them. Just ask me next time. Okay?"

The guardian barely had enough consciousness to answer with another tardy nod. His body almost refused to respond, not keeping up with such a hasty development. Yet the feelings inside were bubbling like a volcano ready to erupt, and it seemed to Ink that he was on the verge of exploding from the gratitude bursting within him. The artist wanted to say so much, to express all the admiration and adoration that had accumulated over the years, but he was so captivated by the sudden closeness and the glitch’s uncharacteristic care that he missed the moment when Error shortened the last centimeters of the distance and, without warning, pulled him into a deep kiss. Clenching their teeth tightly and without any preludes using his tongues, bringing reality to another of the guardian's long-standing fantasies that had previously found life only on the paper of Ink's sketchbooks.

But just as abruptly as this outburst of passion hit the artist, just as suddenly it stopped when the destroyer retreated in a deliberately slow manner, causing Ink to whimper with loss. However, Error never pulled away completely, and his soul was still burning with desire in other's chest, practically screaming at the guardian not to let such a pleasant moment end so quickly. Asking him to go and receive his prize himself, if, of course, he actually wanted more.

Ink wanted. Really, really wanted.

The provocation was so obvious that the artist almost felt a catch in it, but other's intentions were revealed to him to the same extent as emotions, leaving no room for deception and making Error's wishes clear even without words. It was like an invisible request, a call to action, to which Ink gladly obeyed, taking the initiative and this time pouncing on the destroyer himself. He pressed him to the pillows, but instead of one deep kiss, he gifted dozens of small ones, dispersing them on Error's face before switching to other bones in a rush. The patterns of the stars were still just plans and sketches, but the guardian was already mentally marking them, leaving kisses where golden drops of his paint would appear in the future. Little marks that he can target to show his love over and over again.

The space was filled with glitches, flickering with sparks of static electricity from close touches, but Ink didn't feel resistance, neither in other's actions nor in his essence. On the contrary, Error exposed himself to affection in every possible way, only arching more when another kiss fell on the center of his chest, and Ink's hands began to freely wander all over his body. Although the artist unwittingly slowed down and froze in place when, in his passion, he pulled up the destroyer's sweater and stumbled upon a strikingly clear absence of the familiar blue light. It was so strange and almost frightening to see other's ribs empty, but the guardian had to remind himself that the glitch hadn't lost his soul. It was right there, barely showing through Ink's own T-shirt, and this clearly didn't prevent Error from remaining alive and complete being.

A being who had given his whole self into Ink's possession, virtually guaranteeing that even if they couldn't spend every second together, the destroyer's life would remain in his hands. Safe under his protection and care and not hiding from the artist a single thought. Gifting him this wonderful warmth and filling him with the most real emotions, saving the guardian from the need for something as imperfect as vials. It was more than Ink could ever ask for, it was perfect.

The artist was completely overwhelmed by their shared happiness, and he could swear that he had never felt anything more intense, but as it turned out, even this wasn't the limit. Slightly catching his breath after such a tremendous display of affection and captured by the same haze, the glitch stretched out his hand and gently put it on the white fabric, directly opposite the fragment of his own being, which responded with a pulsating resonance, duplicating the already staggering flow of pleasant feelings in a loud echo.

"You see now. It's much better when you don't hold back. Are you sure you don't want to tell me something else?"

Ink's ribs burned again in an obvious call, harder than ever before, and he didn't have to guess to figure out what Error expected from him. The words that had been on his tongue for so long, yet this was the first time they so easily escaped from him, pushed by the soul that echoed them in unison.

"I love you. I love you more than anything in the world."

As soon as the artist finally uttered this, the glitch's face exploded with glee. He wasn't this pleased even when he saw half of the Multiverse fall from his hands, and yet now he looked like he had won the most crushing victory possible. The warm feelings reached their climax, and, guided by them, the destroyer smiled at his reflection in the mirror, unable to resist straightening his shawl in an almost instinctive act of self-admiration.

"Me too."