Summary: Just admit you love him, Error.


Error's numerous blue tongues poked out from behind his teeth while he focused on the yarn and knitting needles in his hands, completing one purl stitch after the other. Thus, slowly allowing his lastest project to take shape. (I.e., the form of a scarf.)

The vast white space surrounding him was silent, aside from the soft metallic clack of his knitting needles. The perfect atmosphere for concentration. (Especially without the chance of a certain artist dropping in and pestering him incessantly about nonsense- being better, having people who care about him, etc.)

Unfortunately, the dark-boned skeleton's peace got rudely interrupted by a sunshiny voice proclaiming, "Pardon me, sir. You have mail!"

The sudden presence beside him startled the glitch. Consequently, causing the long, pointed knitting instruments he held to slip and ruin a stitch.

Error growled, angrily tossing the botched scarf aside, and threw a nasty glare toward the person who dared to disturb him. Cheerily looking down at him, not at all deterred by his murder-laden eyelights, stood a Papyrus garbed in a traditional blue mailman's uniform with a brown messenger bag thrown over his right shoulder.

Courier, the destroyer recognized, dismayed.

How the obnoxious skeleton always managed to weasel passed every firewall Error set was beyond him. When asked, the mail-delivery worker would merely answer with an annoying, "It is my duty to go where my job needs- wherever it might take me. No barrier shall stand in my way!"

Courier riffled through his bag and produced two items, holding them out for the glitch to take. "Here is your mail, sir."

"F-f-fine! G-give me-me t-that-" Error hissed, roughly snatching the items away with his strings and bringing them to his lap.

His eyelights slid over the mail curiously. The first piece appeared to be a black envelope bearing a blood-red wax seal depicting a raven taking flight, and the second was a small oval-shaped box sealed by a little heart sticker.

Brows furrowed, his hand lifted the former and turned it around. The sender's address written in neat (painfully familiar) cursive on the back read: Death Family Estate, Reapertale.

Error frowned.

Why was that crazy bird sending him mail? Again. He thought they had worked out their (mainly Reaper's) problems together but clearly not.

The dark-boned skeleton growled before pulling his glasses out of his inventory and adjusting them on his face.

This better be important...

His multi-colored phalanges pinched a corner of the envelope, intent on tearing it off- until he shuddered due to the uncomfortable sensation of being watched.

He glanced up, irritated to see Courier had not moved from his place right beside him... and now held delighted sparkles in his eye sockets.

"W-w-what are-are you s-standing aro-around f-f-for?! Get-get o-o-out of here-re!" The Destroyer of AUs snapped.

The Papyrus, thankfully, took the advice (or threat) and promptly but professionally fled. Error turned his attention back to the letter. However, not before he sealed Courier's entrance point behind him and added a few new traps for extra security. (Not that they would help in the future.)

His hand then swiftly ripped the top of the envelope off and pulled the contents out: a slightly crumpled piece of paper folded in half. While he unfolded it, the envelope's remains got dropped into a portal leading to a realm prominently colored red and black. The rift between worlds closed as quickly as it opened, cutting off a series of swears and a gritty roar, "Quit leavin' yer fu-"

Error ignored Abomination #13's rage and inspected the letter, which caused his fractured soul to twist in his chest. Inside the folded paper contained a poorly written "Happy Mother's Day, Momma!" followed by a crudely drawn crayon picture of the dark-boned glitch hugging a little cloaked skeleton that had white squiggles sprouting from their back.

"T-that damn tiny-tiny abomination i-i-is still confused..." He murmured, gently laying the Mother's Day card next to him on the "floor."

With it out of the way, his mismatched eyelights drifted to the box. The destroyer carefully peeled the heart sticker off the side, sticking it to the top of the box, and freed the lid. Small fancy dark chocolates covered in a spicy milk chocolate drizzle laid within.

He carefully picked one up and popped it in his mouth. It was sweet, rich, and packed the perfect amount of punch- exactly the type of chocolate he loved.

"B-b-but... I-I guess-ess it w-w-wouldn't hurt to-to play al-along."

Error continued nibbling on the sweets while a string latched onto the drawing and lifted it to the Anti-Void's ceiling, where it would rest alongside his puppets. (Out of the way and where no one except for him could appreciate it.)