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"We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed"

UTMV; Rated M; Killer-centric, Killermare & Kist; modern university setting

Content warnings include bad mental health (finally wrote some Killer with BPD), drug use and unhealthy relationships, more on ao3

Summary:

Killer and Nightmare could break up a hundred times. They could ruin each other in the worst of ways humanly possible. And they still refused to leave the other. It was the most explosive of dynamics, and it suited Killer's tastes perfectly. ...But now Dust was going to leave. And Killer wouldn't have that safety net. And it would take just a tiny moment of cruelty or carelessness on Nightmare's part to wreck him beyond repair, probably. — Killer and Dust, Killer and Nightmare, and their messy and fucked up life and relationships.

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Bonus: none survived

(Ink belongs to comyet, Dream and Nightmare to jokublog, Error to loverofpiggies)

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Wow I really like this artist *394 images downloaded*

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For months I've thought about like. Error, Nightmare and Dream all having feelings for Ink. At the same time. But none of them are aware of the others

In the beginning it's because even Ink isn't aware. He's oblivious to all their methods of flirting (Dream through humble romantic courting, Nightmare through elaborate plots and schemes, Error through killing him and throwing a fit when Ink doesn't spend time with him)

Then Ink Realizes and finds it the funniest thing in the world, especially because he's soulless, and yet here are THE Guardian of Positivity, THE Guardian of Negativity, and THE Destroyer of Worlds all down bad for The Paint Clown. At The Same Time. His silliness and brash attitude and insanity and sincerity and vitality and horrifyingness and kindness etc etc have Captivated Them

Further thoughts. Snrk. They All Learn About It. Nightmare and Error are both crazy jealous/possessive because they're freaks who can only process their emotions in extreme and violent ways <3 Ink finds is even more hilarious and also kinda charming (he loooves to be wanted)

Blue has already been listening to both Error and Ink rant about the other. Now he listens to Error and Dream rant about each other, and Ink and Dream being sappy about each other. He cannot catch a break

Nightmare tries to play unfair and kidnap Ink through one of the aforementioned Schemes. In any other context it would go laughably bad. Now Ink goes along with it For The Bit, and to make Dream rescue him like a Knight. Instead Error comes busting in, pissed off, and puts the fear of god into Nightmare a little bit

Ink is also totally using this all for his advantage when he can, too. In the middle of a fight he just goes "Aw man and here I thought I had a FREE DAY today especially since I have NO DATES PLANNED 😔" and Nightmare ceases the fighting to Plan Date (Dream lets him, totally on board with Ink's cheeky idea (and also Ink will obviousslyyy have a date with him too))

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Edit: finished here

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Just finished meticulously, image by image, splitting my "Undertale and Deltarune Art" gallery album into a "UTMV Art" and a "Undertale (Classic) and Deltarune Art" albums. Used to be about 6300 images but I kept downloading stuff in the meanwhile. Currently 7000+ images and 1500+ images respectively. And this is just the images. Not even counting my TikTok folders or my YouTube playlists

Anyway fun fact when you've looked at a metric fuckton of fanart and you close your eyes, your brain hits you with an afterimage behind your eyelids like the sun, except it's fanart that doesn't exist, autogenerated/constructed through pattern recognition. How cool is that. Fanart from another reality I think

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I imagine Ink loves to try and fit things into metaphors and symbolic imagery and narrative tropes, even clichés. And he yearns to be chased when he 'runs' — when he feels detached from people and turns away from them. To be wanted so badly and thoroughly that he is never let go of (abandoned).

Meanwhile, Error sees himself and is seen by others in the Multiverse as a predator, something dangerous. And he does chase — no way is he going to let his (HIS) arch nemesis slip away. And both him and Ink love the thrill of a fight — Error loves to destroy, and Ink is his favorite, because they're so unshakable, he feels triumph to see them squirm and hear them scream.

(EDIT: had to fix color profile due to washed out colors aakjdvnajkv Also Ink belongs to comyet, Error to loverofpiggies)

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Error and Ink are the funniest ever. POV your family all got killed in a matter of 0.2 seconds by indestructible blue strings from some guy clipping out of reality. Now him and the barefoot one with a giant paintbrush are screaming at each other over whether you should wet your toothbrush before or after the toothpaste. This appears to be what they're actually fighting about. Also they both look like the skeleton who does shitty comedy Friday night at mtt resort

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Mmm tagging Flowey as 'Flowey the flower'. Hismfull government name

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"There's implications that Kris will lose their hand in the future-" SHUT UPPP WHAT IF I STARTED CRYING. I did cry when they got to play piano in ch4,,,, (And yes, usually their scarf is on the right side c:)

Lineless ver. under cut

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Art collab with @grayskiesandink !!!

I've loved their art for a while, and I was enthused to go ask them if they wanna do an art collab once my finals finished. They did the lineart, I did the colors and lighting. Thank you for the lovely lineart, very pleasant working with you !!! <33

This also doubles as my just-in-time piece for pride month xD Considering I've been going crazy with my Drink RP this month, it's very fitting. Love these two! Gray's lineart under the cut

Ink belongs to comyet, Dream belongs to jokublog

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What the Multiverse thinks VS what it's actually like

Bonus version under cut

Ink belongs to comyet, Error belongs to loverofpiggies (CQ), Dream and Nightmare belong to jokublog

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"ivory void"

1,084 words; Ink belongs to comyet, Dream belongs to jokublog

Content warnings: Dissociation (incl. derealization, depersonalization, dehumanization), traumatic memories, bad self-worth

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You can leave the void, but the void will never leave you.

…And that's about where the whole paragraph can end. The whole story. There it is, laid out neatly: the start and end of Ink's life. Well, "life". 'Existence' would be more correct, maybe.

And it doesn't have to be the Void. Just… a generic void. An umbrella term, if you will. It could be an abandoned concept of an AU. It could be a blank canvas. It could be the Save Screen, or it could be the Antivoid. That doesn't matter.

It's all the same in the end. And it just… it never goes away. Ever. It can change shape or context or quantity, but it's always there. To say Ink carries a piece of it with him would also be incorrect, as that would imply it's something separate from him.

It isn't. That's the thing about the void. It just becomes a part of you. It becomes you. You become it. One and the same, intertwined.

Here it is now, for example.

The scene is domestic. Today has been a slow day, really, a nice day. The sun is setting in Underswap, surface; painting the room a bit golden. Blue and Dream are in Blue's kitchen. Making… food. It smells nice. Their voices carry over.

Ink is sitting on the back of the couch. His brush laid on the couch at his feet.

And the void, his dear friend, always with him.

A shadow. In the same way a shadow isn't something separate, it is you outside of you. It is your shape; you where the light is absent.

And Ink is so good with a spotlight. He's so good at directing it, whether at others or just the right parts of himself. Highlighting exactly what he wants seen and nothing else. Chasing the shadows away or stuffing them to the side. Only sometimes the light catches something, there, at the outskirts, but nothing beyond that. He's so good at playing his role — the tech support, the stage hand, the director, the audience, heck, even an actor himself. Paint yourself red for a fight, blue for a tragedy, so on and so forth. The audience see what you want which just so happens to be only what they want, nothing else.

Here is the actor. Here is the stage hand. When the show is over, the 'actor' disappears, because it is a thing you do, really, not who you are. You're an actor when you're acting, heh, pretty obvious.

Hm. Stupid. So deep. So philosophical. He's zoning out again then.

It's like everything is coated in a thin, invisible film of void. Or, maybe, it's Ink who's wrapped up in it like cling-wrap or latex all over. A barrier between him and everything else, every object he could theoretically touch.

Between him and the rest of the living room. Him and the kitchen. The voices in the kitchen, the smell of dinner permeating the house. It's… it's…

…The void will never leave him.

It's part of him. He's part of it. The start and the end and also everything in the middle. You can't march towards obscurity if you're already there. The lines aren't blurry, they're nonexistent.

He's… staring at his hands. Flexing his fingers.

…Dead.

Soulless. Literally. No life streams underneath. He doesn't feel hunger at the smell of cooking meat and whatnot that wafts from the kitchen. It's nice, but it means nothing. Glitter and stuff. Flavor text, haha.

His hands. His fingers. Plastic and wood and marble and stuff. He wonders if Pygmalion can repeat that fun trick. Then casts the thought aside — that would require love in order to work, and, well. If Ink's Creator loved him to begin with…

…Hm. So deep. So philosophical. He's voiding out again.

The hollowness of his ribcage. Of everything inside of him. Absences are only noticeable when you shine the spotlight on them, so Ink tends to keep it away from there.

But light has a tendency to refract, and your eyes adjust, and suddenly he's sitting on the back of Blue's couch and staring at his hands and everything is just numbers and objects. Suddenly he's never been more aware of the hollowness inside, except that's not true, because he's always aware of it, it's him, and it's always there, and it always will be. Dear old friend, heh. He wonders if Galatea was solid marble on the inside, at least. Hm, no, she wasn't marble, he's misremembering.

And the outside, the outside… glitter. At least glitter is pretty under the spotlight, heh, draws the eye and all. Flavor text. Might as well be pleasing to consume, compensate for the lack of nutrition and satiation. The hollowness that remains.

Hm. Ink is… Ink isn't. An exercise in contradiction, but he makes it work. The answer to the question, how can you have an 'antithesis' without a 'thesis'? It's him. He's the antithesis. Unfortunately he's softblocked from synthesis, due to, y'know, lacking that pretty important first step.

"You've heard about one or two philosophers, we get it," he mutters in humor. His own voice is so… it's… hmf. Well. Sound can't really travel in nothing. You can't scream into the abyss, actually, which is funny, because he has.

He did.

A lot.

He screamed and screamed and. Cried. Hurt. Begged. He walked around. Did cartwheels and stuff.

And white, and white, and–

"We're dooneeee~!" Blue declares in a loud sing-songy voice, walking out of the kitchen at last, judging by the sound of his footsteps.

Ink doesn't turn to look at him, not out of any decision for it; he feels like marble, a little, or… ah, no, what was it, ivory? Ivory, he thinks. He can't remember, nothing new.

"Ink?? Are you gonna try it??"

"You don't have to," Dream's voice floats in too. Heh. Maybe they're the crazy ones, talking to the ivory flower on the wall. At least it's pretty. "We know you can't really digest it, but you can still try a bite just to taste,"

He flexes his fingers. They're not real. They're not people.

"I made sure to add a few extra spices in there to make it more flavorful mweheheh!"

"Blue we were following a recipe-!"

…That's okay. Ink isn't real. Ink isn't a person. He can make it work, he thinks. He can leave the void once more. It will always wait for him, and he will always come back. How kind.