#doomed kist... doomed kist on my mind...

[what-have-i-unleashed]

it's a shame that monster turns to dust when they die because i think killer would love to hold onto murder's skull like a heartsick thespian.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

inspired by both mermaid-coded dust and this flavor of doomed kist

i'm mashing my two toxic tragic kist posts into one and here's what comes of it i guess... extremely jumbled thoughts

(cw: toxic one-sided relationship, obsession, suicidal ideation)

so dust is in love with killer, but he cannot say it. not because he's mute - he is - but because he doesn't want either killer or nightmare to know. it's a weakness, easily exploitable. so dust keeps it close to his soul, learning to mask his emotions like killer does. everything is fine, really. if he thinks about it hard enough, he gets to see and interact with killer almost every day. he knows killer doesn't have eyes for anyone else. it makes the pain in his soul somewhat more bearable. he can only watch his light in silence, unable to say the words, but at least this closeness to killer is what only he can have.

and he treasures the little moments he has with killer. when killer is exhausted and falls asleep, dust has the opportunity to engrave every detail of killer's face to his mind, every curve, every angle, every edge. every time killer laughs with joy and glee, dust perks up at that. every time killer is injured and dust has to take care of him, he takes note of how light killer is leaning on his shoulders - he takes note of the scars and cracks running on the bones of the person he has to bandage and heal over. what he can do, again and again, is remember. what he has is memory, and he intends to protect and hold close every piece of it.

everything is fine. until it isn't.

killer disappears one day without a trace. nightmare rages while his minions hurry to hide away from his wrath. yet dust remains in killer's lifeless room, hands tracing every surface of the furniture there. the room is nondescript, lacking any personality - the only sign that this is killer's room is his collection of souls and dust on the shelf. and yet, killer didn't take them with him when he disappears.

maybe he's dead, a part of dust whispers in defeat.

do you really think so, another part scoffs in disbelief.

it doesn't matter either way. dust relocates his room to killer's. nightmare doesn't care, but horror and cross do send dust some looks when he announces it. it doesn't matter - his feelings for killer are useless now, it's like mourning for something that never was. all he has left of killer are the memories.

and one day, on a mission nightmare sends him to, dust sees a familiar face again. he does a double take, unable to believe what's happening in front of his eyes. it's killer, and not just any - it's his killer. he would recognize that face anywhere. and killer is happy, genuinely so. in such a way that dust never sees before. he's with someone dust can't recognize, holding hands, leaning in with such comfort. he's happy.

and dust.

dust is...

he's...

he's...

you don't know how you feel. because the next thing you know, nightmare is there, his face sporting an gleeful expression only reserved for his unfortunate victims.

ah dust, good work finding the traitor, you hear nightmare say. but nothing is right. nothing about this is right.

killer can't be here, happy with someone else. killer is supposed to be his light out of the deep dark below where he belongs.

you should kill him, your brother says. you should have killed him a long time ago, when he pulled you out of our universe.

don't you miss home, brother?

don't you miss us?

you've hidden your feelings for everything for so long that they're burning you inside out. at this pace, you'll die - if not of a broken soul, then of your own destructive magic.

there's only one way to cure a broken soul. you know it, right?

and you're staring down at killer, your hands around his throat. you'd make him drown in his own blood. and you'd lean close, just close enough that you can almost give him the kiss of death. and you'd have turned yourself and him to your false namesake by the time the sun rises on the horizon.

but you hesitate. because you love him. you love him so much it's killing you alive. and you can't bear to die in a world without him.

and so you let him go. you watch him slip away from your hands, swept away by the new wave of his life.

time stays frozen for a moment before you feel your skull crack on the pavement. something grabs you by the leg and swings you harshly to the other side of the road. if you had a voice to laugh, you would. you spit blood, feeling strangely relieved. this is the price to pay to see killer again. how familiar. it's like everything is making sense again.

"don't think i didn't see what you did back there, dust," nightmare growls at you, holding your pathetic body up in the air by your (probably broken) shoulder. "you let him get away." the pain is excruciating, but it can't extinguish the elation in your (disgusting) soul.

i want to see him again, you mouth to an audience of no one.

you're crazy, your brother chides you. you'll choose him over me? over us?

you don't reply to your brother. you get dropped onto the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. nightmare looms over you, tentacles swishing back and forth dangerously, as you hold your (worthless) soul to him. a deal with a devil. you don't have anything else to offer anyway.

you don't care what happens to you, as long as you can see killer again. you watch impassively as the dark tentacles poise over your soul, a wave of apathy washed over you. only determination remains, its red glow cracking over your fragile soul.

you will see killer again.

if you can't have him, then no one can.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

player!killer and anomaly!dust

since these ideas have been invading my brain lately, i feel like i need to ramble about the toxic (doomed) kist potential they have.

imagine the game world of dusttale trying to correct itself ever since the anomaly/virus that is killer entered it. so things in the world start to glitch and don't make sense. a character repeats their lines over and over without stopping. shortcuts stop working properly. character stats inexplicably get messed up. goners start appearing to warn dust and killer about the end of the world. it's nearing its doomed timeline trajectory, and yet dust will not give up trying to salvage his universe. in his mind, there's one surefire way to get everything back to normal: exterminate the virus that is killer.

dust and killer (and the goners and the almagamates) are not affected by the glitches because they are anomalies, glitches detached from the world already. to killer, this means enlightenment and freedom. he doesn't understand dust's attachment to the underground, his dogmatic beliefs about justice and the greater good for the monsters. doesn't dust want to ascend to be something "real", rather than the npcs that the rest of the monsters are? doesn't he want to escape from the control of the player? why would he want to obey to the whims of a dying, boring, constricting world anyway? if dust can't see it, then killer will make him see.

the thing is, dust is a difficult monster to persuade. sure, killer can kill him again and again (chances are 50/50 on who will win anyway). but dust always bounces back, more vindicated in his retaliation and belief that killer needs to be gone. the thing is, when you want to break someone down, you need to be the thing they fear the most. killer is already that, isn't he? he's a future of a sans, of dust's own past. this is what dust could have become. killer is what dust has become - a sans doing the work of the no-mercy player.

"aren't you bored of doing the same thing over and over again? aren't you crazy from repeating all these useless cycles only to reach the same conclusion again and again?... oh wait, you already are!"

and dust - what can he say to all that? is it true? is it not? who cares - the only satisfaction he can have is wiping that smirk off that face. killer knows intimately beings like dust - not only because they were the same person at some point, but also because dust is a control freak with a savior complex as well as survivor's guilt. deep down inside, dust cannot fathom losing. he has poured too much, sacrificed too much, to get this far. and he won't stop - not until he reaches his happy ending, which will never come. so he'll forever be stuck down here, repeating his worst nightmares again and again in a hell of his own making.

the only variable in dust's life is killer. gradually, dust treats killing other monsters as a job - an important yet thankless job that someone has to do. the only kill in which he feels something is of his brother... and killer. with killer, dust is filled with something - maybe it's joy, maybe it's hate, it's hard to tell when apathy is his usual state.

and the thing is, the opposite of love isn't hate. it's the lack of love - it's apathy. he feels something for killer - an attachment, an obsession, a possessiveness. "only i get to kill him", "he's my kill", that's what dust thinks. he rationalizes that thinking of course - killer reminds of him too much of himself, the person he hates the most. but there's that fear every time he kills killer - fear that killer will never come back, leaving dust with his empty broken world and voices in his head. and he fears killer will know it, somehow.

for killer, it's always a game to see who's the winner and who's the loser. it's a struggle for control, with the controller and the controlled. and with the player gone, dust should belong to him now. an eternal playmate, after everyone else has disappeared from his life. and like, it's totally therapeutic to beat up and mess with the guy who reminds you of yourself, right? totally not a self-esteem issue waiting to be explored or anything at all. it's funny how much they match. "look, we both wear red!" exclaims killer as he points to his own red soul and dust's red iris. determination pulls them together, and determination will break one of them in the end, and it's not going to be him. he'll persevere once this world rots away, while dust will be trapped by his own volition.

maybe, just maybe, he'll whisk dust away once the end comes. and they'll find another playground to re-enact their play again. killer will take and take and take, until all they are is dust.

Oh, I will ruin you It's a habit - I can't help it

I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything And if you're fine with that If you're fine with that