#widow au

[sheischerrybomb]

The Widow mourns...

[drawbyranemiura]

Black Widow Stephanie Brown. My girl Stephanie bringing in the water works ~ Who can resist our girl crying?

It was all too sudden! One moment, happily married. The next, they are not. They can only go home to their family for comfort and much needed R and R.

Stephanie: *dabs her eyes with a handkerchief* It was tragic...

Bruce: The loss of Mx. XX, who Definitely passed away due to natural causes and nothing else, will be mourned by the family. *taps his cigarette holder to the side*

Cass: *Nods with a frown and wipes invisible tears, miming Stephanie*

Babs: *Quiet beside her and holds her hand, tilting her hat to hide her face*

If you appreciate or like my art, please reblog and comment :)

Click here to see the rest of the family.

[scarlettwlw]

I’ve been thinking about Bunny and how she would hypothetically be with a post Wanda vision, Mind wiped Agatha/Agnes. Poor little baby would be so confused and scared because that’s not HER Aggie. Poor little thing would be constantly hiding and whimpering because she wants her Agatha back. Yes Agatha yells and can be a grumpy asshole but Bunny loves her so much. Uncanny Valley Agatha would scare the hell out of bun. As soon as actual Agatha returned Bunny would be in tears curled up on her lap, so vocal and happy. I will forever stand on Agatha/Bunny supremacy🫡

Mind wiped Agatha would fuck with Bunny's head so badly. Not only is she overly chipper, she's encouraging Bunny to break rules! Bunny knows she can't have more than one cookie a day! It's just not healthy for a little Bunny. New Agatha being constantly happy and affectionate is such a 180 from normal Agatha it actually makes Bunny's skin crawl. What's the point of constant reward? Is she supposed to play with all these toys at once? There's too many! Why does new Agatha play such loud music when her Agatha's getting ready for bed by now?

It's also so frustrating to get the same excited response even when Bunny knows what her Agatha would do. How is she supposed to know if what she's doing is right if everything she does gets the same response?

[foggyxrayspecs]

Can you do a one shot of cub standing upright??

Sorry it’s the anon from before

YESSS. Thank you for being patient, friend! You got it! Here's a one-shot about a year and a half after the Security Measures main series. Warnings: dark-ish, sub-themes of human trafficking, heavy pet play Word Count: ~1500 Excerpt: You swallow down your growls. You straighten your spine against the stress. No slouching. Slouching turns to bending, bending turns to curling… You roll your shoulders back and puff out your chest intentionally. Your focus shifts back to your breath — the only thing you can control at the moment.

IN A WAREHOUSE IN YEKATERINBURG, RUSSIA It took roughly a thousand hours of mobility training and practice to get you here, but you are here on your own two feet.

You stand stoically, a sentinel outside the room where your owner engages in a high-stakes meeting with the Yekaterinburg mob boss. Your hard gaze wills your sight to bore through the closed door. Your auditory enhancements are dialed up to try and catch every sound, including the cadence of Yelena’s speech rhythms as she negotiates for keeps. 

You are dressed head-to-toe in black tactical. Always mindful of your comfort and mobility during missions, Yelena designed your suit to be roomy enough to accommodate any necessary movements. The fabric clings to your body but is not too tight, allowing flexibility without compromising protection. Your hood, a custom piece, resembles a K-9, complete with little ears that stand up on either side of your head. It extends with a longer snout build-out that provides ample space for a muzzle when required while still optimized for breathing. 

Around your neck, you proudly wear your day collar, a symbol of your loyalty and Yelena’s ownership. A simple bulldog harness adorns your torso, providing additional support and security. Plus, you love it when she tugs on the strap to pull you close. 

But it's the footwear that still feels strange to you. Yelena insisted you wear shoes after you accidentally burned the pads of your feet. These steel and supple leather boots have been expertly molded to fit your feet like a second skin. You wiggle your toes, still adjusting to the sensation so different from what you were accustomed to. So weird.

As the negotiation progresses, you study the tone of the voices in the room, Yelena's trademark confidence, and the mobster's unpredictable temperament. The rhythm of their conversation, the pauses, and the inflections become a catalog of information that you analyze every nuance for potential threats.

You swallow down your growls. You straighten your spine against the stress. No slouching. Slouching turns to bending, bending turns to curling downward… You roll your shoulders back and puff out your chest intentionally. A tiny bit of your focus shifts to your breath — the only thing you can control at the moment.

XXXXX

ONE YEAR AGO (TRAINING MONTAGE)

Yelena's determination to have you on more extended missions made her focus on your mobility earnestly. Due to the regulations that required HK-9s to travel in crates in the cargo holds of planes, Yelena wanted to find a way to keep you close to her side. So, she started you on a rigorous routine, retraining you to stand upright after spending most of your adult life walking on all fours.

The training began with early morning workouts, targeting your core muscles and balance. You could sit up on the ottoman for an entire movie as you gain strength. Well, if the movie wasn’t too scary (and didn’t set off your protective instincts enough to lunge at the screen.) From there, Yelena guided you to stand using support from a wall or other sturdy objects, allowing you to grow accustomed to being upright. Climbing up her while she stood was always your favorite exercise, with the instant reward of affectionate kisses and nuzzling.

Gradually, Yelena decreased the amount of support you required. With time and practice, you could stand unassisted for extended periods, your muscles growing stronger as she molded your body through her instruction.

Once you could stand freely, Yelena shifted her focus to re-teaching you how to walk. Advised by Oksana, she transformed the home gym by installing parallel bars and other physical therapy equipment, providing you with stable tools for practice. 

The effort wasn't without its snags. Melina offered her assistance when you experienced unexplained bouts of vertigo during your first steps. She expertly assessed your sensory inputs and made slight adjustments near your vestibular nerve (to reverse tampering from years ago), alleviating any concerns of nausea or dizziness. Your progress kicked into overdrive when you could stop worrying about losing your lunch.   

Yelena ensured the house environment was safe and free of obstacles, so you could no longer leave your toys everywhere. Bipedal-only walking days were implemented inside the house, pressing you to practice on surfaces like wood, carpet, tile, and grass. Yelena remained patient and positive throughout, even when frustration got the better of you. 

She stood by your side with a cane during sessions on the treadmill, gently tapping you on either calf to correct any toe-turning. She listened keenly to your body's messages and promptly ceased training if you experienced pain. She was better at that than you were. 

But the playful moment when you confidently moonwalked backward across the kitchen floor — a move taught to you by one of the widows during some downtime— signaled to Yelena that the time had come to take you out.

XXXXX

BACK IN THE CORRIDOR

You stand at attention as Yelena exits the dimly lit room; her expression is unreadable, and her gun is smoking. Her eyes briefly look up and meet yours, a fleeting acknowledgment. There is no need for words; you are leaving now. You fall into step beside her as you walk down the corridor. Your eyes sweep the area and over her head, knowing that four widows are covertly covering the building but will not reveal themselves unless signaled. 

Together, you and Yelena move in sync, a well-practiced vigilance. Each turn you take, each hallway you navigate, brings you closer to the exit. Yelena quickens her pace, and you adjust accordingly, seamlessly matching her movements. You share an unspoken understanding, a mutual trust forged through countless missions and shared experiences.

Finally, you reach the exit. With a subtle nod, you guide her toward the sleek egress vehicle, its polished exterior gleaming under the moon. The car door opens soundlessly, and Yelena gracefully slides into the driver’s seat. You ensure her safety with a gentle click as the door closes.

The engine purrs softly. With a smile on her lips, she reaches over and opens the passenger door, motioning for you to join her. She whispers with her voice laced with pride and anticipation, "Get in, cub." 

XXXXX

AT A SAFE HOUSE NEAR THE AIRPORT

She opens the door for you when you get out of the car. You reach out, then stop yourself. Yelena looks back at you and smiles softly, then reaches to curl her pinkie around your index finger. “You always need a leash, yes?” You roll your eyes. She continues while leading you to the door, “You know you love it.”

You smile shyly with a shrug and sign. Maybe just a little.

Yelena opens the house with her security access, then locks it down when you are both inside. Once in your bedroom, Yelena stands before you, her eyes scanning your tactical gear. “You did a very good job, my cub, and you looked very cool in your new suit.” 

Yelena’s inspections were familiar after a mission, but this time, she had a mischievous glint in her eyes. With deliberate movements, she approached you, her fingers deftly undoing the fastenings of your suit, one by one. 

You stood still, anticipation building as she removed each piece. As her fingers released the buckles of your harness, the straps fell away. When she unzipped the suit, her fingers brushed against your skin, igniting a trail of shivers. The hood was the next to come off. Her fingers lingered, tracing the contours of the muzzle as she set it aside.

Yelena's touch ghosted over the day collar, a silent affirmation of her possession. With gentleness, she leaned forward to press her lips against the lock that symbolized your devotion.

With every piece of clothing removed, you stood before Yelena, bared and vulnerable. Her eyes met yours, a mixture of affection and possessiveness shining in them. She took a step closer, caressing your cheek, and whispered, "You're mine." You close your eyes briefly, then open them, knowing that her claim extends far beyond the physical. 

You take a long breath and sign. Please?

Yelena smiles slowly and nods once. “Kneel.”

A wave of relief hits you, and you can barely help yourself from folding in midair.

As you lower yourself, your eyes never leave hers while your perspectives are inverted. You go from towering over her down to her eye level, then lower until you are on your knees, looking up at your owner.

It's hard to describe the transference. Looking down at Yelena makes you feel protective, strong, and ready. It also makes you feel loving and compassionate. When you look down at her, you see not only her physical appearance but also her vulnerability. You see a person who trusts you. 

But looking up at someone you love can also be a very intimate experience. It makes you feel safe and protected. It makes you feel excited and grateful. When you look up at Yelena, you see her body but also her soul. You see the person who makes you feel happy, loved, and cherished.

After a thousand hours of training to stand and move, it becomes clear that kneeling for her requires no time at all.

[szollibisz]

hiii hiiiiiiiiiii. I uh. yeah. This au has been floating around in my head for a while and I sat down to do some drawings but I realized I should explain it first and this is that.

*puts my blorbos in an inherently hannibal-esque au* I'm getting a lot of hannibal vibes from this...

[indiaalphawhiskey]

✨ Tiniest Snippet

And Louis had known, of course, in some vague, theoretical way, that pleasure still existed for other people. That people still laughed, loud and unencumbered, every day; still ate and drank with gusto, still tumbled into bed with complete strangers, still stood on that glorious, frightening precipice right before hurtling headfirst into love.

But it was only then, only when he heard himself let out a gasp — the first one that filled his chest with lust again, instead of pain — that he entertained the thought that pleasure could maybe… still exist for him, too.

[theprofessionalpromptmaker]

Father-in-Law Day & National Support Public Education Day & World Snorkeling Day

Person A is a widow/widower with kids and whose in-laws are very adamant about their grandkids getting homeschooled, and have gotten more adamant about it over the years. Person A fights with them, thinking they’re trying to push religion or weird ideals on the kids, but when their oldest kid hits puberty and starts to develop aquatic characteristics, they’re confused and scared until the in-laws ask them about their kids in a way that shows they expected this. When Person A finally gets the truth out of them that their deceased spouse never told them - they’ve got mermaid heritage, and that was what the grandparents were pushing homeschool because of. So Person A agrees to let the kids be homeschooled when puberty starts, under the instruction of the grandparents at their beach house. When their youngest child reaches the age for the mermaid homeschooling, Person A moves the whole family to the same city, and starts spending more time with their in-laws and growing close to them now that the secrecy is gone.

[itsmemoops]

mourning air (widow au)