It's interesting to think about how, to me at least, Dust and Killer are like mirror versions of each other.
One who joins a villain enthusiastically, jumps at the chance to leave his past behind and have a purpose again, and the other who has to be dragged in, would rather rot in the consequences of his own actions.
One who needs orders, needs the distraction and the action and the thrill, can't sit alone with his thoughts for too long lest he hear them clearly, and the other who can't bring himself to ignore the ghost over his shoulder, would rather sit in place and listen to his own self loathing parroted back at him than stand up and find a way to drown it out.
One who doesn't associate with his past anymore, that wasn't me and I wasn't him, and cannot stand the thought of going back from where he came, and the other who wants nothing more than to be his old self again but feels so strongly that he doesn't deserve to return to the life he tore down himself.
They both wear their new names like dog collars, but one is a gift given by someone else because he's theirs, he has somewhere he belongs that he's expected to return to, and the other is a choker tying him to a post, warning others of his danger while never allowing him to get out of arm's reach of his past.
And getting them both back-to-back while trying to understand mortals was probably enough to give Nightmare whiplash
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any story no matter how much it Sucks Ass can be so beautiful to the guy who likes it. world is a beautiful place
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it might be because I'm aroace and can't help but project on my favorite little pookie bears 24/7 but like....
not platonic kunidazai, just like, they're dating but they don't have sex, they don't want sex, it's not something that comes up cause they just mutually have their reasons to not want/need it.
and that's not to say they're never intimate with one another, it's just that their intimacy is different. to them, intimacy is taking naps in each others arms, no bandage's, just a blanket and each other's embrace. intimacy is Kunikida washing Dazai's hair while they sit tangled up on the floor of the tub. intimacy is kissing each other so so softly, over scars and marks and phantom pains, over bad memories and pleasant reminders. Intimacy is sharing a cup of coffee in the office. intimacy is mending each other's wounds. intimacy is skin on skin, trusting one another not to hurt, not to take, not to use. Intimacy is talking long into the night, close enough to hear the faintest of whispers, talking about life, their pasts, their fears, their aspirations.
it's all intimacy to them, they don't need sex. one doesn't need it and one doesn't want it ever again, and that's fine, they find their own ways to share that vulnerable space both crave to fill.
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