n : "hey killer, did you know the oversexualization of the feminine body is deeply rooted in misogyny? it is a harmful rhetoric that still runs rampant in our modern day society. and we, who notice this phenomenon must be active in acknowledging and correcting these mistakes."
k : "i'm glad you pointed that out, nightmare! another common issue is when a character like myself in media, expresses a slight morsel of sexual attraction or flirtation, is boiled down to the fact. it is another harmful issue, because it is commonplace in society that these things are stigmatized. it is important to understand that like characters, people also have nuance."
Other mobian version of sanses
In fact I had already made the designs last week
Here are their species:
Cross is a wolf
Dream is a rabbit (Yes, I know, he looks like Cream xd)
Fresh is a hedgehog
Ink is a cheetah
Geno is a cat
And Killer is a white tiger
Killer is canonically charming, but I don't think it's in a flirtatious or genuine way.
It's in an uncomfortable way, but it's not disgusting or creepy either. It's like he knows exactly what to say, always testing the waters before moving on with the conversation.
His charm also never seems to lead to anything good; it's like you're always one step behind, always trying to guess what he knows before he even says it. It's almost a one-sided conversation; Killer seems to know exactly what to say to get the answer he wants. Always.
You're just a little mouse he decided to play with before devouring you.
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.