#Emotional Manipulation CW

[toringo]

Attached at the hip...

More of the childhood friends au

[timeclipsed]

❝I'm telling you, Sonic, there's something weird going on here. The Doctor's hiding something from me.❞

— ;; DIGITS SWIFTLY RAPPING AGAINST SUPERCOMPUTER keys, Tails works tirelessly to deracinate the firewalls locked in place, encrypting and shrouding precious digital documents from prying eyes.

Lopsidedly lounging on a nearby workbench, having shoved all the tools and material to the floor to make room for his stannic chassis, watching his "brother" work with mild disinterest, "Sonic" pipes up to give his two cents.

❝Playin' the game of fools if ya expected anything else, lil' bro!❞

— ;; ACICULATE APPENDAGE RAISING, OFFERING SOMETHING of a supportive thumbs up, he reclines further. Ugh. Mentally noting the behavior, Tails tucks away the necessity of a behavioral adjustment for later.

❝Just do what'cha do best and we'll have the case cracked wide open in no time— like the rotten egg himself!❞

— ;; COALESCING FULLY, UNABLE TO REPRESS the twinging smile on his lips at the half-praise, half-jest, fingers sweep the keyboard, shattering through every thickly-coded riddle thrown his way. In lieu of his physically weakened state as of recent, he'd began to have suspicions that things were awry behind the scenes.

Of course there was no reason in the multiverse to fully trust Robotnik as is; the noticeable gaps in memory and sudden decline in health only acting as fodder towards that volcanic skepticism.

Chiming with a gaiety fanfare, signaling granted access, Tails immediately begins his deep dive into the depths of the raw mental spillage, reconstructed into paragraphed verbiage.

❝Got it! Now let's see... what's Ro-nut-nik hiding in here...❞

— ;; CIPHERED FILES WITH ENIGMATIC NAMES are the bulk of what's contained within; of course the Doctor would resort to using a secret language, presumably one made by himself. Something no one else could disentangle.

Frustrating, certainly, but it does little to sway his search. Thankfully so.

Concealed within layers of folders, seemingly all full of junk and throwaway text, a document labeled PROJECT MARIA is discovered. There, an array of text logs from the Doctor, journaling what seems to be the process. Nausea churning in a curious stomach suddenly, he clicks on the most recent entry.

Sensing his sudden drop in energy, Sonic hops off the bench and approaches from behind, gazing over Tails' shoulder.

❝What'dja find, bud?❞

❝Not sure... some kind of logbook for a thing called PROJECT MARIA. No idea what it's about, but I definitely recognize the name... Maria, she was Shadow's sister.❞

Entry 27 12/13/xx

Perhaps I began siphoning Maria's essence all at once, or far too quickly. The vessel shows signs of sickness, with symptoms similar to the ones she dealt with on the ARK. The boy complains of pounding headaches, chronic fatigue, and a persisting cough from the lungs. Currently, he's on consistent bedrest.

It's been a chore to keep all his little friends away, however. Aside from the results of Project Shadow from this timeline, none of them are any the wiser, and I intend to keep it that way.

I was eager when that idiot, Starline, approached me with such a braggadocious front over all his technology and tactics. Far too easily disposed of; I should have realized much sooner his methods weren't perfect.

I'm going to have to recalculate and retrace. If the boy gets any sicker, his vessel will be useless to me. There must be a way to reverse the effects of ailment.

❝S-Sonic?❞

— ;; INSTINCTIVELY LEANING TOWARDS CHAOS' PRESENCE behind him, his eyes scan the words over twice, then thrice. Still, yet, processing them seems impossible. Everything clicks into place, as desperately as he wishes they wouldn't.

Flickering, whirring, gears seem to kick into overdrive as Chaos understands the implications of what's scrawled out in front of him, a hand places itself on Tails' shoulder, urging him to stand.

❝...We should go.❞

— ;; IMPROMPTU ESCAPE PLAN CUT TRAGICALLY short as by the time Chaos has Tails' weakened form on its feet, a third voice joins the fray uninvited; the single voice they'd dreaded hearing.

❝Again?❞

❝Oh, Tails. We've had this confrontation how many times now...?❞

— ;; BEGINNING HIS SLOW APPROACH TOWARDS the pair, Robotnik bends down, letting the folds of his wide smile find the same space Tails' horrified breaths shudder out into, hidden behind Chaos' profile.

❝And every single time, it ends the same exact way... you're a little too smart for your own good.❞

❝Back up, Doctor.❞

❝Y-You... lied to me. It was n-never about getting home, was it?❞

— ;; POSTURE STRAIGHTENING, TOWERING HIGH ABOVE Tails and Chaos, the gleam on Robotnik's spectacles tinges off the dim light above. Fixing his gaze on Chaos, he speaks once more, but he still addresses the other.

❝I think we both know there's only way this is going to end, boy. The question is, do you want your new friend here smashed to bits in the process?❞

— ;; SHUDDERING GASPS ESCAPE TAILS' THROAT and he clings tighter to Chaos, shaking his head wildly as tears spill from squeezed eyes.

❝N-No! No, no, no! Don't touch him! Don't hurt him! I- I'll—❞

❝...Bud? Tails, no— don't listen to him!❞

❝...C-Chaos Sonic... initiate force shutdown process.❞

❝Tails—!❞

❝FORCE SHUTDOWN SUCCESSFUL.❞

— ;; CLATTERING TO THEIR FEET, OPENING the gap between Robotnik and Tails, Chaos lies inactive. The latter stares up at the former with petrified eyes, breaths murmuring and skipping raggedly.

❝Please don't... I-I... I'm scared...!❞

❝Is that so? Let me help you ease those fears so you can get to sleep. It's late, boy.❞

— ;; GRIPPING BANGS BETWIXT LONG FINGERS in one hand, the arm belonging to the other pulls back, fist promptly making contact with Tails' face.

And like a light losing power, the world goes dark.

[grislyintentions]

|| Immolate ; (Yaoshi Excerpt) ||

[Listen]

Obsession is the common thread that binds love to hate. A thin layer of separation that fails and bleeds, intermingling in want for definition until they are one and the same.

Push and pull. Black and white. Fear and attraction. There is not one without the other. And to feel is to be alive.

The hate, apathy, anger, loathing and want. The adoration, the need, the fear of emptiness and grief. Flavours of life in Abundance. Cherished beyond belief without relief.

Suffocating, snuffing out all resistance. With patience, time and passion. The mind is strong but flesh is weak. Is yielding. Is want.

Coexisting Codependence Never alone Forever haunted but more so with the idea of being left

In time, love blossoms whole. No matter how much of you has to die to make it happen.

[virtuoshosh]

Maker- Tell us about each of your fledglings

"Oh, are we talking Council business, now? How dull...ugh, fine, if you insist...well, you'll know all about Sascha, of course. Such a pretty thing, aren't they? Refined, obedient...the perfect sire, one might say—though, let me tell you, they weren't always that way. A walking disaster, really, when I first found them...simply spilling over with all this delicious despair. I made Sascha into the best version of what they were always meant to be—and just look at them now! And do I ever hear a word of thanks for my efforts, my endless benevolence? Peugh...but, that's why I have my new project. She's a captivating beauty—red hair and red lips. But damaged, with a fragile mind—like a helpless, wilted rose...and oh, the things I have planned for her will be—ah, whoopsie, I've gone and said too much, haven't I? I can't have the Council knowing about her just yet..."

[The Maker leans in and compels the Council's errand vampire] "...you're going to forget we ever had this conversation, and then you're going to walk outside and stand in oncoming traffic until someone runs you over."

@robin-thevamp

[bubblebbunch]

Childhood.

1. Luca and Sabrina, 7 and 2 years old. They used to be thick as thieves, but after their parents passed away, things were never quite the same again... the love they used to have for one another is what fuels Sabrina's hatred towards him today.

2. Noel, when he was still known as Noelle, coming home from school to his alcoholic father. Knowing that if he was ever to get anything around this house, he better act the part of a perfect child, as well as hiding any single thing he may want to keep to himself... He's already begun practising that ever-present smile of his.

3. Corwin's mother did, just like him, struggle with BPD and depression. Often accusing her son of lying to her and not caring about her, worried that he was going to leave her with his dad and that he actually hated her... After his parents' divorce, followed by a planned kidnapping by his own mother, Corwin learned very early on that love is a very, very complicated emotion.

[bugs-and-grass]

Long Day, Long Night

CW: Implied Emotional Manipulation, Misgendering, Parental Abuse

Midnight. Not a rare time for Kyle to see. His days often ended closer to 1-2 AM even on a good day. But today, Kyle had effectively done... next to nothing. Slept for several hours, even. The missed day of his medication was hell on his body and it showed. At least he had a few fun things to do. Low energy games. Watching video essays. Possibly a combination.

Mama perked up the moment he stood to move to his office setup. A reasonably good gaming PC setup for his income. Good enough to play some of the higher end games that came out as of late. Not like its owner was in the mood for those focus-intensive experiences anyway. He'd taken his night medication and just needed to pass the time before it kicked in. Just a few puzzles, and--

BRRRZZZZZT!

A pause. His Poryphone was ringing. But... he didn't expect a call. Not so late, and not from anyone he recognized. The number was from another region entirely.

BRRRZZZZZT!

Normally he'd block unknown numbers. Normally. But... something was off. Normally the caller ID would tag any suspicious numbers. But it was... just a normal number. From Unova, but still. It could have been a wrong number.

BRRRZZZZZT!

He'd give it a chance. Worst case scenario, it'd just be a quick misunderstanding to pass over. No big deal.

BRRRZZZ-- Beep! Kyle tapped to pick up the line and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

As the call began, Chitters hopped her way up next to her trainer and under his free hand with a trill. But contrary to her expectations? He didn't start petting.

His eyes went wide. Fist clenched. Something was suddenly wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Wh-- YOU!?" Kyle's voice cracked as he yelled in shock, waking the other Pokemon as he did. "How the hell did you get this number?"

Lychee bounced her way up onto the desk next to Kyle's hand. Silvie was... confused. Why was human being loud? Was something wrong? Mama knew. Mama knew something was wrong.

"You-- No, don't talk over me. Don't talk--" Another voice was barely audible on the other side of the call. A woman's voice. Stern. Angry. Demanding. Chitters crawled up Kyle's sleeve as Lychee attempted to grab at his hand. It pulled up to pet at the Bounsweet's head.

"What? No. No, I--" The voice was interrupting. Incessant.

"Please, can you just let me-- MOM." His voice raised, both in volume and pitch. Any voice training was out the window in the moment. Mama pawed at Kyle's side to try and pull his attention back away. Something was wrong. She couldn't let her human deal with it. Not alone, at least. Chitters was on the same page, prodding at Kyle's cheek with a foreleg. An act that just garnered a scritch from his free hand. No further attention.

"Mom, you're not-- No. NO. Mom, I am NOT a little girl! I'm not a GIRL! You do NOT get to call me your DAUGHTER after everything." His voice raised further, attempting to break through the ramblings on the other end of the line. Lychee attempted to press her head against Kyle's arm, but he turned in his seat away from her as she did so. Simple bad timing.

"No, I-- I don't have the energy for-- Mom. MOM." The Flareon now in front of Kyle put her paws up onto his lap. Silvie padded her way to her mama's side and squeaked out a little confused mewl. She didn't know what was going on.

"CAN YOU LET ME GET TWO FUCKING WORDS IN!? I-- NO!" The Pokemon in the room furthered their attempts to get their owner's attention. To pull him away from the emotional threat. None of which worked, at least not fully.

"THAT'S NOT MY FUCKING NAME ANYMORE AND YOU KNOW IT! IT'S KYLE. K-Y-L-E. I AM A BOY. I HAVEN'T GONE BY THE NAME YOU GAVE ME IN FIVE YEARS NOW!" His voice was in a full shout now. Tears began running down his cheeks. Whatever was going on in this conversation, it was hitting him hard. Silvie backed away in fear. Mama noticed and fled to comfort her. The emotion in the room was nothing but tense.

"NO. FUCK OFF. You are getting NOTHING from me. You are NOT getting Dad's number. You are NOT going to call this number again. And if you come ANYWHERE near me, I-- NO. SHUT UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'M DONE. I'M FUCKING DONE WITH YOU. YOU'VE DONE NOTHING BUT TRY TO GET BACK IN BED WITH DAD FOR THE PAST YEAR AND YOU REFUSE TO FUCKING CHANGE. I'm done. I'M FUCKING DONE." Even Chitters had jumped off at this point. Her owner's mood had gone sour far faster than anyone could think. The voice on the line only got a couple more words in before being interrupted again.

"NO YOU ARE FUCKING NOT. YOU DO NOT HAVE ANY POWER OVER ME OR DAD ANYMORE. You are NOT to call this number again. FUCK. OFF. LEAVE THE BOTH OF US ALONE." A shrieked expletive sounded from the phone before Kyle hung up. His hands shook. His heart raced. This was the last fucking thing he needed.

And in a moment of weakness, a moment of lack of control, he threw the phone into the mountain of plushies on his bed. A Vibrava plush fell off to the side from the impact. He stood up from his office chair, stepped over... and faceplanted into bed. The flump of impact knocked another couple plushies loose.

A sob escaped his throat.

With the anger turning to grief, all of the Pokemon in the room approached once more. An attempt to comfort their trainer. Their friend. Mama brought Silvie onto the bed by his arm. Chitters nestled into his hair. Lychee sat by his face to give off her pleasant smells. Mama pulled herself up into bed and warmed up against Kyle's back.

More sobs left Kyle's throat as he clutched Lychee in his arms.

Not a single word was spoken the rest of the night. Only the sounds of a family of Pokemon worried for their trainer. Trying to help their friend feel better. Feel safe.

This was going to be a long night.

[arkhampsych]

📂 !

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍.

𝐉𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

One of Crane’s favorite ways to taunt another is by repeating a phrase or lie they repeatedly tell themselves, in a derisively flat tone. He does this to make it clear that he sees through another’s denial, and knows the lies and traits that drift in their subconscious, intimately. This would be a “power move” if he didn’t take so much pleasure observing another’s expression the moment their forced to reconcile with their reality or insecurities.

[cupcakeslushie]

Thinking about kendra confiscating donnie's battle shell,,,,, hmmmmm something something leaving him vulnerable, she could probably twist it to be about the other turtles if she really wanted to

Also something something changing someone's physical appearance without their consent as a form of torture

You really got me thinkin thoughts out here

Oh lord this ask slammed into my brain at full speed. Kendra turning Donnie’s battle shell into something that he used, not just for protection in battle, but also for sensory comfort. And then making it seem like he actually only wore it because his brothers were dangerous to be around. Guilting him into putting his discomfort aside just to be agreeable. 😭

Thanks for this brainrot!

[howlsofbloodhounds]

sometimes I hate how casually this fandom treats the idea of nightmare filling killers soul with negativity.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

dark crink ahead

(cw: unhealthy relationship, manipulation)

so in underverse ink meets cross after timeline x ended, and xtale has been rendered into a white void. i think since ink has fear of emptiness, he wouldn't stay in xtale for too long. instead, in this scenario, he brings cross with him to explore the wonders of the multiverse, teaches cross about the in-and-outs of it, and helps cross to manage his newfound abilities after merging with xchara.

of course, ink is still keeping that promise with his old friend xgaster, but having a new friend wouldn't hurt, right? and ink revels in cross' attention and adoration - he's just so easily enamored with everything the multiverse has to offer. ink can't help getting closer with cross, eventually showing cross his art. cross doesn't understand the importance of this gesture, but he still greatly appreciates it and showers ink's creations with fascination. cross asks ink to teach him how to draw and ink eagerly complies. they just have a great time honestly.

that is, until the honeymoon ends. ink eventually tells cross that he can't help him restore xtale. he's the guardian of creation. he himself cannot create a universe - that is the duty of the creators themselves. hearing this is like the wake-up call to cross. he has forgotten what he has to do all along, his responsibilities. xchara is so vindicated - he knows that nothing about ink can be trusted after all. cross has fallen for the biggest trick in the world. is the time with ink so wonderful that cross is prepared to abandon his empty universe, abandon his friends and family? will he choose ink over them?

... but what if he can have both? he can have ink, and he can find ways to restore his universe? ink wouldn't listen, but cross/xchara can make him listen. they have a power that they haven't experimented on a live being yet - the hack knife. and eventually, ink becomes the first test subject for it. and it's easy, because it's just like a betrayal kill, something that cross is not unfamiliar with, no matter how terrible it makes him feel. but this is for the greater good after all, and ink is too much of a valuable ally (... or something even more) to lose.

and that's how cross and xchara find out about xgaster's plan. imagine how mad they are. but it's fine, really. with ink under their control, they don't have to worry about that old coot anymore. xchara wants vengeance, but cross wants to keep ink. i imagine they don't know about ink's immortality yet, so xchara agrees that ink will be under cross' care. cross is a little bit irate that xchara treats ink like a misbehaved pet, and they argue a lot about it. ink is just so small (he's canonically 3ft8 what), he's vulnerable and cross has to protect him, especially from that damned destroyer who keeps interfering with their plans.

now imagine if cross and xchara meet nightmare and killer. the things killer would comment about how nightmare and cross are so similar with their "pets" and all.

[toringo]

Some 'fond' memories of these two.

Ties into the 'nothing bad happened' au (everyone needs therapy there)

[bambiraptorx]

Content Warning: ableism, disfiguremisia, emotional manipulation/ emotional abuse

[I.D. First page of a three page comic, using Big Mama from ROTTMNT and a fan design for her assistant. In this comic, Venus is a small child. She is based on a yellow-bellied slider and has stripes around her eyes, going up her forehead, down her chin and neck, and around her arms and legs. She also has a mixed bilateral cleft lip, with a complete cleft on the right side of her mouth and a much smaller incomplete cleft on the left. She's missing a tooth under her complete cleft.

In the first panel, Big Mama holds her hands out towards Venus, and says "Turtleboo!" Her speech bubbles are cloudlike, with small dots and hearts hovering around them. Venus reaches out too, an excited grin on her face, and yells "Mama!!" In contrast, her speech bubbles are much smoother. In the second panel, Big Mama holds Venus and kisses her cheek. She says "How is my darling girl?" Venus smiles happily and says "Happy to shee you!" Big Mama responds, "Oh, good. I've come for a little chizzy-chat." End I.D. 1 of 2.]

Rest of comic under the cut, mind the content warnings above.

[I.D. The second page has three panels. The first is a closeup of the bottom half Big Mama's face, Venus leaning her head contently against Big Mama's cheek. Big Mama frowns very slightly. In the next panel, she smiles, and says "I've decided you need a new name, my poppet." Venus looks up at her with a questioning expression. In the third panel, Big Mama is shown from farther away, her eyes cut off by the panel's borders, with Venus in her arms and looking at her. Venus asks. "But why? I like Venush, Mama."

The final page has two panels. In the first, Big Mama bends down and sets Venus on the floor. Venus holds onto her hand and looks confused as Big Mama says "Oh, dearest, it just doesn't fit you." The next panel shows a close up of Venus' face, a look of shock and betrayal as tears gather in her eyes. Big Mama's hand rests on her head as she says "Venus was beautiful." The words are written in cursive, and lay over Venus, partially see through. Behind her is a pattern that looks like a heart beat monitor line, then transforms into a cluster of jagged, squiggly lines. End I.D. 2 of 2.]

A little backstory for why my version of Big Mama's assistant is referred to as both Venus and Frida: she originally was Venus, but was forced to pick a new name.

Big Mama does have her reasons for doing this (given that she basically kidnapped Venus from Draxum, the name change helps to hide her identity so Draxum won't try to get her back), but at the end of the day she knows it's cruel. She doesn't say things like this much, but when she does it's very intentional.

[grislyintentions]

||ehe. Dan Feng in the AU for you know who~~~

“ your scorching breath is my doomsday, salvation and reawakening all at once ”

Meme (x) || Accepting || @shining-gem34

Several lifetimes spent in chains can grow to become...pleasant for some. When misery is all he knew from hatching and rebirth, how could they possibly resent him for being misguided?

To liberate flesh that had grown accustomed to unyielding shackles, there will be pain - that is unavoidable - before there is true freedom.

《Weep not, Cherished One.》 Nectar oozes from shattered bone, crushed by a blade piercing through, sinking even deeper when they laugh. Bells softly ringing in the air. With a deafening crunch, it is pushed deeper in by a guiding hand firmly wrapped around his arm.

The Thousand-Handed Merciful Medicus leans closer. Veil brushing against tender skin when they cradle his face in affection.

《Do not resent what you must do or how you must feel in order to fully gain liberation for yourself and your kind.》

Mouths touch in light whispers.

《Your hate, your anger, your shame, your fear and pain...I will hold it in your stead. And forgive your every transgression.》

《Until the day you truly embrace acceptance.》

《And cleanse yourself of your defilement.》

[arkhampsych]

An impatient smile tugged at the corner of his impassive lips, “ of course you are. ” Crane murmured, closing and locking the metal drawer, before placing his keys back in his pocket. He turned towards Joker’s file. As he opened the blue cover revealing it’s sacred contents, his eyes briefly darted towards his guest’s firearm, slightly annoyed of it’s underlying presence.

He cleared his throat, “ 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘫𝘰𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘳 — ” he lilted as though preparing to articulate a story, “ suffers from episodes of uncontrollable laughter as associated with the pseudobulbar affect, due to physical and psychological trauma sustained during youth. ” his eyes lifted from the file and narrowed imperiously on Joker’s marbled and bleeding makeup, “ but you already know that … ” he sifted through a couple pages, inaudibly muttering miscellaneous information about his subject, “ 𝘢𝘯𝘹𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 … 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 … 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺 — ah. ” he stopped, shrugging his brow and flashing his former patient a snide grin,

“ patient frequently fluctuates between a calm and hyperactive state. much like his mother, mister kerr harbors many beliefs that conflict with the external reality, manifesting in delusions that constitute a victim mentality and a fixation on an external locus of control. ”

The cadence of his recitation died into a flattened tone. Crane’s implacably passionless eyes drifted up from the spidery characters that stretched from the end of one document to the next, fixating on the unsteady face of his subject. He continued, “ I’m inclined to say his grandiose thinking and need to vindicate the misfortune he feels society has inflicted upon him suggests a strongly narcissistic personality. this is only reinforced by disorganized behavior and the usual symptoms corresponding with his diagnosis, 𝘴𝘤���𝘪𝘻𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘢. ”

Without removing his steely eyes from his guest, Crane gently closed the file. “ this gentleman sounds very un - well ... but that’s not his fault is it. It’s this city. these people. the sickness that passes from mother to son. I think, it won’t be long before we catch a glimpse of the rot that seized penny fleck’s mind in mister kerr’s own children. ”

A pale shaft bounces off the gleam of Joker's wedding ring. It fires past The Good Doctor’s head and drags across the far wall with the momentum as Werewolf tucks his hand back into his waistband. The Chief’s Special has been nudging his hip with every step he took down those suspiciously abandoned halls. Piano fingers curve around the handle and unsheathe it from his trousers. It dangles muzzle-down at his side.

Joker's sibilant, “След,” command sends the giant black hybrid in a blue harness around the archive’s perimeter. Massive paws strike and scrape the tile as he scouts the room. As usual, the 'dog' misses a glowing pair of red eyes that stare unblinkingly at Joker from the shady corner. Then, upon Joker’s snap and sharp noise, Sokol parks in the doorway. The animal’s eyes are paler than the wing’s sallow, miserable walls. They fixate on his charge, who goes stiff as a board upon staring at the clever play on his name. 

He deigns to smile at first, green eyes expanding like the crest of a tidal wave and his crooked teeth on display. A cloudy ribbon lifts from the cigarette wedged between his fore and middle fingers. Standing on his tiptoes doesn’t improve clarity any, so Joker drops back down to the balls of his feet and leans into a pitchy, breathless laugh that takes his shoulders for a few swings.

He slackens his jaw, notes the positioning of Dr. Crane’s hands, then deigns to tease, “And where’s this newfound altruism coming from, Doc?” His chin nudges towards Crane’s hands. “Or are you gonna gas me while I’m trying to read?” Joker lifts the muzzle so it aims at a shin or the lowest part of a kneecap as he edges closer, head held at a delicate tilt so Melpomene’s weeping half of his face exaggerates. 

Some inexplicable will o’ the wisp lures him closer to the cabinet, to the file that may or may not truly be his. Her voice is soft, airy, not even perceptible to Sokol. The wolf-dog remains seated and on-guard, though he glances over his shoulder to observe the near-empty hall. His long, bushy tail lays across those antiquated tiles that likely have not been renovated since the forties. Joker swallows what tastes like inert ash, traps the cigarette between his lips, and inhales deep as he slinks closer. The muzzle points at the doctor's thigh, now. Heavy source of blood loss should his trigger finger slip. 

“Take the file,” he’s told, though not by those eyes lowering at him from the corner, "Take it, I say!"

Joker squeezes his eyes shut to further dilute the blue and white paint on either lid. Shifting his stance to a diagonal even though a wall’s to his left and there isn’t much room to escape on the right. Joker leaves the cigarette hanging from his teeth like a bone as his weak hand proffers for the file. Then he pauses, inclines his chin, and shies a step backward. 

“I’m illiterate,” white lie. A lavender overlay is stuffed inside Second Addition had he enough light and space. He bats his eyes until the brine stinging them sits between his lashes. “And I highly…" an involuntary laugh carves a grin he doesn't mean onto his face, "Doubt…” the gun’s limp in his wrist as he swings it, “—you’re gonna allow me to take it home. What’s in there that I don't already know?”

[blondeaxolotl]

Swap au except only two characters are swapped, can you guess who and who

Can't forget the bonus doodles:

[stagesofkiller]

whenever killer and dust are getting heated, making out, getting real close or in eachother’s laps, killer should always remove dust’s scarf.

and maybe dust doesn’t think much about it or even thinks killer is just helping him undress, but if dust ever attempts to ask about it or protest for any reason killer should immediately withdraw any and all affection or attention until dust does what he wants and takes it off. even in situations where he just doesn’t want to see it, outside of heated moments.

this was inspired by something new sans’ reaction to chara wearing papyrus’ scarf in the comics and the drawing by rahafwabas answering the question of how killer would react to dust.

killer would not like that scarf. remove it.