Headcanon that Dust absolutely resents how much he resembles Classic. There are elements of this back in Dusttale, with how Dust prefers to hide his face and identity while building his LV, but this is more out of practicality (and even shame) than anything else. He doesn’t want his victims to recognize him because it’ll make it harder for him to sneak up on people, and a part of him really doesn’t want them to know that he was the one who killed him. The longer this goes on, the more his disguise transforms from a way of hiding his shame to a way of distancing himself from who he used to be. Sans would never kill all those people, but he isn’t Sans anymore. He’s not really a person anymore, he is the act of murder itself. He is Dust.
I think this would get way worse when Dust leaves his AU and enters the multiverse though, because right off the bat he encounters murderers, just like him… who don’t look innocent. Horror, Killer and even Cross are set completely apart from who they used to be. They are scarred and twisted and nightmarish. Looking at them doesn’t trigger memories of a happier, innocent past. They have renamed themselves, taken on a new identity - but for them, this change was physical as well. No one will ever mistake them for Sans.
So Dust wears his hood. He hides his face. He keeps his magic burning constantly, because if he stops his eyes will darken and there will be nothing setting him apart from the monster who died, years ago, the first time a knife ripped through his chest. The others realize it, too… Horror probably wouldn’t care either way. Cross would understand the desire to distance oneself from an old identity, but would ultimately be in a similar boat as Horror. Killer would bring this up to taunt Dust once he realized it bothered him - and would quickly get bored with it. Ultimately, the others would just accept Dust’s refusal to show his face, his hatred of his own voice and reflection, as part of who he is.
I like to imagine that one day, the gang get into a serious combat. It’s vicious and close; both sides are bloody and exhausted by the time it’s over. If one side wins, it’s by a hair, and not much of a victory. In the dazed silence following the battle, Nightmare slowly assesses each of his acolytes, ensuring that they are still alive and intact. When he reaches Dust, he pauses. The assassin is bloodied, slumped over. His HP is steady but low; he’s taken a lot of hits - more than most monsters would have been able to survive. His hand vanishes beneath his hood, carefully inspecting his face. That night, back at the castle, Dust steps in front of a mirror. He takes a deep breath and, for the first time in years, removes his hood to look his reflection in the eye. The combat left deep wounds across his face, injuries that would never heal completely, that would leave him permanently scarred.
Dust looks at his battered reflection and smiles.
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The Universe
You are The Universe, and The Universe is you.
Its cloak of stars is both worn and held, and it is the cloak and it is the arms and it is the space between. It cradles itself so carefully.
It is growing and full of potential. While it reflects the appearance of the viewer, it usually depicts them at a younger age: a time when the whole world was open before them.
It grants exactly, exactly, your heart's desire, with the genuine simplicity of a child who hasn't yet realized that never going to bed is a long, long time awake. This is not a matter of external misinterpretation; The Universe, after all, is you.
It's most often depicted in religious iconography with an actual mirror for a face. If a mirror isn't possible, its cloak may be piled high enough to obscure its face instead, or its face may be left without form or shade. Occasionally an artist will get more specific, though, and depict it as a certain person or object, in order to highlight a particular aspect or cast the viewer in a particular role.
The Universe has always been a little lonely, since being everything means being the only thing. But it is so much lonelier now. No one can look into its mirror without pain. No one even knows to try.
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you know it's bad when i read svsss and tgcf, stories about just two guys falling in love and getting together, and think, "god i wish i were in between them."
gay little domestic cottage core life with binghe and qingqiu? please and thank you. being sandwiched by hua cheng and xie lian, two pretty men who are hundreds of years old? i am blushing, kicking my feet and giggling
and again, it's not even that i would want only one of them. like in both of the relationships, the two love each other too much to the point it'd feel wrong if they were separated! it wouldn't feel complete, so you gotta be with both of them!
but that's the thing; i just?? i feel so incredibly guilty whenever i think about being loved by these mxtx couples??? like it's so stupid but i feel like i'm intruding in on something and it's like, everyone else seems to just want them together only, not wanna be with them. like it's fuckin taboo or whatever
i feel like with any other character from any other media it'd be fine to simp for and write/read x readers of them, but when it comes to these books, it's off limits! no way, what are you, crazy? yes, yes i'm unhinged and desperately want their love and affection simultaneously. i want to be in a happy little poly relationship with these overpowered beautiful men with long hair.
i can't be the only guy or whoever to feel this way?? to wanna be kissed by these characters? sandwiched?? i have two hands for christ sake and they all look so happy together and im just like "lord i wanna be with them so much". someone tell me i'm not alone cmon <\3
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AA wives: Astarion's asshole is the wrong color!! My self-insert would never eat his ass if that were this color. You're not letting me roleplay eating Astarion's ass even a little bit. This isn't a roleplaying game anymore it's a morality simulator. You're forcing morality into the game by making a point about only eating a certain color of ass. Also you're kinkshaming me so much. I'm an adult. I will harass you about this until you give in.
Larian, on their hands and knees wearing a dog collar: Yes ma'am right away ma'am please send us the exact hex code of the color you want it to be and we will change it posthaste
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So it was established in the last episode that Taylor still believes in Santa (tbh I wouldn't be surprised if it's come up prior to this ep too but anyways-) so... Do you think (saint) Nicky been has portalling in every year since the betrayal to sneak in a gift for his son amongst the pile? That Cassandra doesn't even notice because it's just one among the many many presents she herself has bought and wrapped? But every year without fail... Taylor gets one gift that simply says "from: Nick" and well, obviously that has to mean it's from Santa (a conclusion which Nicky expects him to come to, and why he can sign his name at all, though he misses when he could just write "dad"). And one year when he's still quite young, a sleepy little Taylor actually catches Nicky in the act, and Nicky wishes more than anything that he could just *stay*, but instead he only softly tells Taylor to go back to bed, and Taylor thinks that Santa is a lot younger and a bit sadder than he expected, but what's he gonna do- not listen to Santa Claus? So he smiles meekly at the man he does not know to be his father, and hurriedly heads back to his room.
Also yes of course Nicky eats the fucking cookies left out of course he's not gonna pass up on free cookies (which are home-baked to top it off) come on that's a given.
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