#inkiller

I was gonna share it either way but I think it’s really funny how I tend to abruptly change the plot near the end. it wasn’t supposed to get angsty in the comic but it did so the writing is mostly gonna be fluff. my bad xd

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The sea beyond them shimmered with glittering light from the drooping sun. The sand were light-yellow below Killer’s shoes, but they get just a bit more orange as the sun drops lower. Some would say the sun is feeling down(heh), but Killer, he says the sun is dead.

Killer curled up, looking away from Ink. “… Do they know, too?”

“Who?” Ink faced him, his scarf swishing along with the beach-wind, shaking so violently, yet so gracefully at the same time.

Killer kept his head in place, staring at the ground where the shallow water barely meets his feet. “Your… ‘friends.’ Do they know you… don’t have a soul?” He replied. It is not everyday that Killer willingly choose to start up a conversation. To be honest, he was enjoying the silence beforehand, but he didn’t know what had gotten into him these past two days. Perhaps… he is changing a lot more than he thought he would.

“You mean Dream, Core Frisk, and all of the others?” Ink didn’t wait for a confirmation. “They’re not my friends.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Well, it’s not like I keep it a secret,” Ink continued, “it’s kinda common knowledge around the multiverse at this point.” He chuckled, waving his hand around while mimicking a mocking expression, “Hahah, the Protector of AUs is soulless!” His half-hearted chuckle and attempt to brighten the mood, and/or to divert the topic, didn’t reach to Killer’s soul.

“Aren’t you… hesitant… about telling them?” Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, his words carried an undertone that sounded like, “aren’t you embarrassed?” And the fact that he knew Ink can read his undertone made his soul warped a little.

Ink tilted his head, seemingly interested in the conversation, though Killer knew well that Ink was just keeping this conversation up to entertain both of them. “Why should I be?” Ink challenged in a playful voice.

His mouth spoke before he could think as he whispered to Ink, “Letting others know how empty you are inside…” Killer watched as Ink noted how uncomfortable he looked, feeling just a little bit more of disgust for himself, but he decided to continue on with the topic anyways. “Letting them know how vulnerable you actually are… isn’t it scary?”

“If they are truly my friends(which they aren’t, how funny), they’d accept me,” replied Ink. “Plus… that doesn’t make me any worse than them.” Killer gave Ink a look, observing as the dying sun casted its final lights on Ink’s face, making it shine pink and orange. “I can still feel as much as they do,” He crossed his legs and dragged his hands over his vials, tracing their shapes and silhouettes. “My emotions are real and I know that.”

“If only I had a choice to hide my soul...” Killer mumbled, more to himself than to Ink as he returned his gaze toward the open sea.

“Even if I can, I wouldn’t.” Ink briefly glanced at Killer, accidentally catching a quick, yet meaningful eye-contact. “My soullessness is a part of who I am,” he said, “I am Ink, the soulless Protector, and I don’t mind being Ink.”

Killer frowned. “I don’t think I like being ‘Killer.’” He’s pretty sure he doesn’t. What’s the point of being “Killer?” There are no good pros to being himself, so he put on his smiley mask to try and savor his identity. Not like that’s helping him much now, since for whatever reason, he can’t seem to find his signature grin when Ink’s around.

“You can be whoever you want to be.” Ink smiled, this time, facing Killer once again.

Killer looked back at him, trying to make his expression as unreadable as possible. “I guess,” he said in a “yeah-sure-whatever-you-say-tone.”

“Killer.” Ink leaned forward toward Killer, but Killer didn’t flinch. He has no reason to be scared. He’s safe. “You can be whoever you want to be when you’re with me. I don’t mind and I like it that way.” Killer listened as the words danced to the wind’s chorus for the dying sun. Ink held his hand tightly, reassuring him the two words, “You’re safe,” with his gentle hand gestures and a soft look on his face. Killer’s soul pulsed, almost painfully. Killer smiled—a genuine, happy, relieved smile—and Ink returned that.

They stayed beside the shore until the moon arrived, granting them with dimmer, yet shinier light. Killer studied the way Ink’s eyes flickered with all sorts of colors as the moon’s lights kissed his face. They both ran alongside the roaring waves and the clashing wind, yet they were not scared.

Killer was not scared.

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