#only my handler knows i exist in a good way

[lazycats-stuff]

HEYYY, firstly how are you! I wanted to ask if you could write about a teen male reader with the Batfam. He is kinda like the winter soldier if you know what I mean ( skilled fighter, metal arm..), since he lived with the Batfam he was doing a good mental recovery, but one day he goes back to winter soldier mode on the fam, and they try to get him back to normal again, idk

Thanks you bye !

Hi anon, I'm well and I hope you are doing okay too. I can do it, no worries.

Summary: (Y/N) gets back into the Winter Soldier mode.

Warnings: implications of torture, mind control, mentions of Hydra, Bruce is sad for (Y/N), some violence... And everything else that goes with Hydra and brain washing.

The road to recovery is often a long one. Bruce thought of it when he first saw (Y/N), aka the Winter Soldier. The infamous one, a ghost within the intel community. Many people didn't believe that the Winter Soldier even existed. But the trail of neat and clean murders was the one thing that made Bruce think there is something more.

Of course, the way to get (Y/N) was hell. Hell being and understatement of the decade. Bruce at one thought that he was indeed chasing a Ghost, but something in his mind told him that the Winter Soldier was real. Something in his gut made him chase that ghost.

Months of chasing, fighting and hoping he would be alive by the next encounter, they finally got him. Bruce was lucky to be alive. He hugged all of his kids right then and there. (Y/N) was put into a glass box, strong enough to contain Bane.

(Y/N) refused to back down, refused to retreat. He punched the glass of the cage with his metal arm and some were worried that he would actually brake it. Bruce knew that even if he broke the glass, he had no handler anymore.

His organization has been destroyed. Everyone important was caught. Those who weren't... Well, their time was running out. They may have scattered like rats, but you can bet your ass on anything that the League would find them all. Especially since they didn't burn down their base. One hell of a mistake.

Bruce and the rest searched through the base and they found something that can only be considered as a holy grail when it comes to someone who was brainwashed.

A dark red book, bounded in leather, with all the trigger words written on those pages... Bruce knew that he has hit a jackpot. He looked through them and then has decided to burn it. They also found the footage of (Y/N)'s brainwashing,

The footage, as much as it is damning, making it very easy to persecute anyone they needed, it was also nauseating. (Y/N) was tortured with electricity, memory wiped with electricity... Worse of all, (Y/N) fighting.

It had shaken Bruce to his core and made him triple check the manor security and it has made him check on his sons 5 times that night. He couldn't sleep at all. He refused to sleep that one single evening and night.

And when he stood in front of the glass cage, (Y/N) looked utterly defeated. He was sitting down, looking down at his metal arm and his human arm. He seemed mad beyond belief that he was even caught. Bruce knew he would have to be delicate and gentle with this (Y/N). He had taken the book with him, to try and have some sort of leverage.

And to show him that he was free. (Y/N) was finally free of the mental shackles that they have put on him. Bruce took a chair and sat down near the cell, but far enough to make sure that there was some sort of space.

He couldn't have (Y/N) feel cornered.

He sat down, book in his lap. (Y/N) still looked down, but looked up after a few moments.

" They will come and get me back. " (Y/N) said and Bruce wanted to laugh.

" Hydra is gone. " Bruce simply stated and watched (Y/N)'s reaction.

Nothing. Huh.

" Lies. "

Bruce stayed calm and shook his head. " I'm afraid I'm telling you the truth. The book you see in my hands? The book with your trigger words. Do you really think they would hand it over ever so willingly? " Bruce asked, showing him the dark red leather book.

" You are officially free. " Bruce said as and watched the way (Y/N) reacted.

Bruce nearly broke when he saw hope in (Y/N)'s eyes. He never lost hope.

" I'll never be free... " (Y/N) said quietly, looking at his metal arm. Bruce saw that it was not a nice arms, made with quality. While it looked strong, it wasn't made to be comfortable. And Bruce could see the claw marks at the part where the flesh and metal met.

" That may be true. But you can start healing. You can start working through all of the trauma that they put you through. Mental scars will always be there, but I can help you. " Bruce said softly and (Y/N) was still emotionless and with hope glimmering in his eyes, there was something else too. Bruce could only decipher it as happiness, but he knew that (Y/N) would rather die than admit it.

" I'll be with you the entire way. I have a great friend who can help you unpack everything they put you through. And I can give you a better metal arm, something that wouldn't be so uncomfortable and something that reminds you off the organization. " Bruce said as he looked at (Y/N), holding the book close.

" And what about the book? "(Y/N) asked quietly and Bruce knew exactly what (Y/N) meant.

" It will be destroyed by me. I wanted to show you that the thing keeping you in their grasp is destroyed. Well, will be destroyed. " Bruce said as he put the book down on the chair before moving closer.

" And you can officially start your new life. "

" I'm not sure if I can... " (Y/N) said softly and the defenses were slowly cracking.

" I can assure you, you can. You will have to put some work into it, but it will pay off. I'll be there to help you to start. "

" But the feeling of guilt will never go away, will it? "

" After some time it will. One way is to go through therapy and work it out or you can become a hero. But that only if you want it and after you went through therapy. " Bruce said softly.

" Maybe then I'll atone for it... " (Y/N) said softly.

" One step at the time (Y/N). One step at the time. " Bruce said softly.

And that's exactly what has happened at the time. Bruce made sure to be with (Y/N) before and after the therapy sessions. He made sure (Y/N) knew he had support while he was talking to the Black Canary. And once Black Canary said he could start meeting new people, Bruce slowly started bringing his sons around.

Damian knew exactly how (Y/N) felt. Being in that environment is not easy and it's just the battle of the fittest. And one hell of a battle for your mind. You truly had to be strong enough to make sure to not completely break. Somehow, (Y/N) has kept his humanity, but he had to give a part of his soul to keep it.

Jason just talked to him about stuff and has made sure that he has access to TV shows and movies. (Y/N) needed to be connected to the outside world. And also, Jason has been bringing books for (Y/N) to read. Jason took him his favorites and often took him some classics. (Y/N) appreciated it and liked all the recommendations that Jason has brought to him. It was a nice break.

Tim has always sneaked in some snacks and the two would just talk. It was a hell of a time and since (Y/N) has started school, Tim would help with mathematics and some other subjects. (Y/N) couldn't really go to a public school or any type of school, but he still needs his high school diploma.

And Dick? Dick has been involved in making sure that (Y/N) was getting physical activity. (Y/N) was stiff in Dick's opinion and he wanted to make sure (Y/N) felt good in his body too. Dick did stretches, some tricks and considering that (Y/N) did have some knowledge about gymnastics, it was slightly easier. Not to mention, stretches were something that everyone needs.

About a year after being saved, (Y/N) has moved into the Wayne Manor. It was a nice change of scenery for (Y/N). Beautiful manor, garden, not to mention no noises... And Titus, the Great Dane being an emotional support animal for (Y/N)...

(Y/N) was incredibly happy, but had hard time showing it. Everyone knew but didn't comment on it. They were helping him get adjusted to his new life now and they were more than happy to help. And one thing that made (Y/N) happy out of his mind was the fact that he got a new metal arm. It was black, with red, blue and green accents. It was something to signalized that he was a member of the family.

Bruce was going to adopt him soon enough. Just give him some time and he will do it.

But something happened at the two month mark. Something made him reverse back into the Winter Soldier mode. Bruce was certain that they wiped the triggers from his mind. Not to mention, the boys remembered the trigger words, just in case something like this happened and that they could be careful.

But something must have snapped inside of (Y/N). The boys were careful, but something must have gone awry. Something.

Jason and Dick were the first ones to see it and were the first ones to see it and the brunt end of it. Jason was hurled out the window, while Dick was thrown at the wall like a rag doll. The commotion woke Tim up and Damian was curious as to what was going on.

They were also thrown around the room.

" (Y/N), you are not a Winter Soldier, relax! " Jason said as he made his way through the window, grunting at the pain.

" Please, (Y/N) this is not you! " Dick yelled as he gripped his sides, huffing and panting.

(Y/N), seemingly didn't hear anything and nothing was reaching him. The cold and murderous look in his eyes was more than enough to tell them that they had to subdue him.

Somehow.

Damian jumped on (Y/N)'s shoulders, trying to take his metal arm off. Once they get that off, they are going to be fine. They hope at least.

" (Y/N) come on! Fight it! " Damian raised his voice, trying to make (Y/N) see his senses. (Y/N) didn't listen and threw himself into the wall, back first to throw Damian off and then he threw Damian into the shelves, making him groan in pain.

Bruce walked in from the outside and froze in shock. His adopted sons in various stages of pain and (Y/N) in the Winter Soldier mode. Bruce stayed calm as he glanced over his sons.

They were alive and breathing. That's the important thing right now.

" (Y/N) listen to me. " Bruce said softly as he moved closer, quickly checking on his sons, who were all softly confirming that they were good.

" Look at me. Remember me. It's Bruce. You are safe. The Winter Soldier doesn't control you, you control him. " Bruce said, raising his hands in the air, trying to make sure that he didn't look like threatening.

" You control him, remember that. " Bruce said as he quickly checked on Jason.

(Y/N) looked like he was confused and shook his head. Bruce watched in silence as (Y/N) was getting his bearings together. And once he saw tears falling down his cheeks, he swooped in and hugged his son.

(Y/N) wept as Bruce embraced him and everyone, including Alfred, brought him into a hug. It was a tight hug and Bruce refused to let (Y/N) shatter. And (Y/N) felt safe Bruce's embrace, but by God, guilt was eating him alive.

Apologies were falling from his lips and everyone assured him that it wasn't his fault. It really wasn't his fault.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male oc #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

[blindbeta]

Why Writers Should Consider Giving Blind Characters Canes, Guide Animals, or Other Mobility Aids + How To Choose One

(Note: This post is admittedly long and full of information. Make use of the headings to read the parts you are interested in. I have provided many links, which you can read as you go or save for later. I suggest saving this post and taking your time with it. I am also willing to answer any questions for people who have difficulty reading long posts. While I considered breaking this post into parts, I decided to keep all the information in one place for ease of sharing and reference, especially because multiple sections of the post refer to other sections contained within it.)

When I read for blind characters, my most common suggestion for writers is to give their character a cane, guide animal, or utilize another mobility aid. Most stories I beta read feature totally blind characters or people with very little vision, such as only seeing colors. Despite this, it is extremely common for me to suggest giving them a cane or guide animal because they are rarely portrayed using mobility devices. Because this is such a common suggestion, I wanted to create a post about it.

Most of this will be about mobility aids for people who aren’t familiar with them or are still deciding what tools are best for their character. It will also be mostly for modern, realistic, or semi-realistic stories. I will create a separate post for fantasy and science fiction mobility aids, use of magic or magical items, and writing stories set in or inspired by times before formal mobility tools existed. However, I believe this post can benefit anyone who is writing a blind character or anyone who wants to learn more about blindness. Mobility tools are a big part of blind culture, blind communities, diversity of blind experiences, and accessibility.

Learn About Mobility Aids

Here is a comprehensive post by visually impaired fiction writer and blogger @mimzy-writing-online which contains information about canes, O&M, guide animals, etc. If you are not familiar with canes, start there. It contains helpful information for body language, use of canes, and resources for descriptions that any writer will find valuable. The post also has a section on guide animals and sighted guide.

Here is a post I made about crafting fictional guide animals, although I have no experience as a guide animal handler myself. I made sure to research and include links, so it should still be a good starting point. It also has information about differences between service animals and emotional support animals.

Sighted Guide / Human Guide

First, terminology discussion. Sighted guide is a more common term and more examples come up when I search this term. Sighted guide refers to when a person with vision helps guide a blind person. The guide can be abled or also blind themselves. I have guided my friends before and they have guided me. I have often said that, in a way, sighted guide is a misnomer because someone who has less vision or no vision can also guide someone with more vision just as well.

The term human guide makes up for this misnomer by being more accurate. A TikTok by AskABlindPerson or @askablindperson on tumblr, explains this well. Here is a link to the video. The video states the following:

“I’m blind and I definitely prefer to say human guide rather than sighted guide because you don’t inherently need vision to guide and a blind person can do it too. And it doesn’t have to be that the blind person who’s guiding has more vision than the other person either. It can just be that they know the area better than the person they’re guiding, or it could be that they just have better cane skills or independent travel skills than the other person. Because not everybody has equal access to the same exact opportunities for training. So a blind person can also guide, which is why I like to say human guide because it’s more inclusive.”

Not everyone minds which term is used, however. Some people also only use one term because it was taught to them first, rather than because of any particular meaning.

Below are some examples of sighted / human guide and when it is often used.

Here is an article titled How to be a Sighted Guide

Here is another helpful page with information on certain situations such as narrow spaces.

Here is a video by London Vision.

While human guide can be someone’s main mobility aid, it is often used according to the situation.

Situations in which your character might want to use sighted guide include:

-crowds, where a cane might be difficult to use or someone has a companion they would like to avoid being separated from

-while in lines, mostly to provide descriptions of what happens around them or to let them know when to move forward in the line

-ground that is uneven or steep may cause someone to want to use sighted guide rather than a cane, although this will depend on the person. Using a guide and a cane is also possible. A guide animal may go around the obstacle

-when going inside an unfamiliar house or indoor location, usually for locating a specific room

-navigating unfamiliar areas

-public transport

-guide animal handlers may choose to either do traditional sighted / human guide while using the guide animal or give the command for their animal to follow the person without holding onto them

Guides allow the blind person to gain additional information about their surroundings through conversation with the guide. Human guides can also aid in navigation by providing helpful directions or landmarks. Human guides can be used with a white cane or guide animal. They can also be used without any other mobility aid.

People from cultures who place high value on interdependence, especially on family, may wish to use more human guides. People who have anxiety or disorientation may prefer to use human guides or simply travel with someone else for security. Other people who might tend to use more human guides include: people who have moved to an unfamiliar area, people who are losing vision, people who have recently become blind, people with other disabilities or health concerns, or people who prefer the company of others.

In stories, human guides can portray character relationships, establishing trust and respect. Perhaps a character already knows how to guide, showing familiarity with blindness. This mobility tool can display the helpfulness of a stranger or be the start of a meet-cute. Additionally, showing how good or bad a character is at guiding can show compatibility between characters. I also believe that writing guides into a story can allow for detailed visual descriptions or conversation between your characters.

Imagine character A slowly learning to trust character B, culminating in letting that character be a human guide.

Sonar Devices

I wanted to include a section for these because they aren’t often discussed.

Sonar devices are intended as a supplement for use of a cane or guide animal. Unless the sonar and cane are paired together, such as with the WeWalk cane. While they could be used by themselves, this should probably only be with the addition of a guide and in non-crowded, familiar area.

Here is a video review of the Sunu Band by TheBlindLife.

Here is another review comparing two devices: the Sunu Band and the Buzz Clip.

Note how the devices are used, especially with a cane. The cane is used to detect objects from the waist below, whereas the sonar device is used to detect objects above the waist. This includes objects like tree branches.

Sonar devices work by detecting objects in front of the user and giving a tactile alert, such as a vibration. Vibrations increase the closer one gets to the object, giving a continuous vibration when right in front of it. Moving away from the object, such as stepping to the side, will stop the vibration.

This device could allow blind characters to be more active an create interesting opportunities for descriptions.

Why Does My Character Need a Cane, Guide Animal, or Human Guide?

A few reasons include:

1. It will be more relatable for blind audiences if characters move through the world like they do

2. It is more realistic for stories set in our world or worlds meant to be realistic save for a few elements

3. It allows audiences who aren’t blind to understand how blind people move through the world. In the case of sighted guide, it also offers depictions of politely and efficiently offering help to a blind person, which may include not offering help at all.

4. Canes and guide animals give your blind character some visibility, as the cane, and to some extent the guide animal and harness, signify to others that a character is blind or otherwise disabled in some way. As for sighted / human guide, it offers an extra voice for advocacy purposes or the added visibility that someone is being helped.

5. Mobility tools allow blind people to participate more in a world that is rarely accessible for them at a basic level. I almost always find this is true in books as well unless the writer makes a point to include universal design.

6. Mobility aids improve navigation, increase safety, and increase interaction with the world.

Why Would Anyone Need To Know My Character is Blind?

Safety is a big factor.

In this video titled Using A White Cane While Legally Blind by Cayla With a C, Cayla discusses some of the benefits of using a white cane. One of these is that the cane works as an identifier, letting people know the person using it can’t see so other people need to watch out for them. She mentions it is also important for cars and bikers to know cane users can’t see them well or at all, meaning they don’t expect a cane user to move out of the way.

Both Cayla and Molly Burke share in their videos that people are more likely to offer help when they use a cane.

How Do Mobility Aids Help Blind People Navigate?

It depends on what mobility aid is used.

Canes offer more tactile information and direct contact with the environment. Canes allow someone to feel changes in the ground, such as going from carpet to tile. They make it easier to feel steps or broken sidewalk. They allow blind people to be aware of obstacles, such as a chair, rather than simply going around them they way they might with a guide dog. They help blind people locate landmarks they need in order to be oriented in their environment and navigate their way to different places. For example, they may search for a bench, knowing a drinking fountain is across from it.

As for guide animals, because I am not a guide animal handler myself, I wanted to include quotes from a few sources.

The Guide Dog Foundation says the following in a very useful Q&A:

“In short, guide dogs are taught how to find and follow a clear path, maneuver around obstacles, and stop at curbs. They follow their teammate's directions, and they know that they can disobey only in the face of danger.”

And according to International Guide Dog Federation:

“A guide dog is trained to guide its owner in a straight line unless ordered otherwise. The dog will avoid any obstacles en route, above or around you. It will stop at stairs, doors and kerbs. The dog will not decide where to go; it is up to the vision impaired person to instruct the dog on the direction for the dog to go and the dog will safely guide the person as instructed. The vision impaired person will already be familiar with regularly travelled routes and the dog will quickly become familiar with these too.”

And International Association of Assistance Dog Partnership has a page that explains the categories of tasks performed by guide dogs, as well as other types of assistance dogs.

Sighted / human guide can be used with a family member, friend, or helpful stranger. It can be a primary mode of O&M or used when needed, meaning it be used even if someone already has a cane or a guide animal.

Usually, human guide involves contact with the guide. It can also include the guide orienting the person they are leading by describing surroundings such as “there is a bench to the right” or “we’re near the door” or it can involve telling someone where steps are.

How Do I Know What My Character Should Use?

What your character chooses will depend on their lifestyle, level of vision, age, where they live, culture, religion, and their needs as a blind person.

In the post on guide animals, I went over a few reasons someone might choose a guide dog or a guide horse.

Here are some articles about canes vs guide animals. Although the ones I found focus on dogs, I believe many points made about guide animals can be applied to miniature horses as well.

Guide Dogs vs White Canes: The Comprehensive Comparison

The link above includes the following:

“One of the biggest and most obvious differences between a guide dog and white cane is that a guide dog is trained to avoid obstacles along their pathway. A white cane helps locate impediments so that the blind person can decide how best to maneuver around them.”

Another article that may help:

White Cane vs Guide Dog: Why or Why Not?

White Canes and Guide Dogs - What’s Actually the Difference?

Here are some videos:

Guide Dog vs Canes - Pros and Cons by Molly Burke

White Canes vs Guide Dogs by Challenge Solutions

White Canes vs Guide Dogs - Which is Better? 21 Pros and Cons by Unsightly Opinions

Guide Dog vs Cane, Which is better? by Ashley’s Advice

I also wanted to discuss a few more points.

1. Multiple disabilities

People with multiple disabilities may prefer different methods. For example, those who use a stabilizing cane may have different reasons for choosing their mobility aid. I went into that more in this post here.

It would be difficult to cover all other disabilities here, but I will attempt to include some things to consider.

Consider any pain, weakness, or other difficulties your character may have around their hands, wrists, arms. Canes require repetitive use of these areas.

Consider any sensory issues your character has. Sensory issues may come into play with cane vibration and the tactile information given by canes, especially as it differs between surfaces. The video by Challenge Solutions listed above discusses pain caused by vibration and repetitive movement, for someone who already deals with this. It goes into more detail, mentioning that a dog may lessen this difficulty compared to cane use.

Consider phobias or traumas that may make service animals, especially dogs, a bad choice for the character, their loved ones, or community. In contrast, consider how a service animal may help provide comfort to characters with traumas unrelated to animals

I hope that provides a starting point for thinking about how other disabilities may impact someone’s choice when deciding what mobility aid is right for them. I hope this is helpful is choosing a mobility aid for your character.

2. Financial Considerations

Consider financial difficulties. While guide dog schools often provide highly trained dogs, weeks of training, a harness, and some essentials for free, it depends on the school. Some schools may cover the dog’s veterinary care, while others may not. Some may provide one bag of food. Some may cover costs of transportation to the training school, but may not cover the cost of missed work. Challenge Solutions lists several costly areas that go with having a dog, such as grooming or toys.

The amount the training schools cover is so varied that one cannot assume anything about how the blind person keeps up with care of their dog. They may have trained with a school that covers the most costly things, leaving them to buy the occasional treats and toys, while other schools may not cover much after the dogs and handler leave the school, causing financial difficulties that may or may not have been fully anticipated. Financial situations of blind people with guide animals cannot be reliably assumed.

Canes, on the other hand, are a one-time payment per cane, if they aren’t already free. While canes do require replacement tips and while people do go through canes quickly, the cost is not comparable to that of caring for a guide animal.

For writers, it may make sense to have your fictional world contain schools that continue to cover costs over the guide animal’s life. Or perhaps veterinary care is free in that world. Either way, this may be something to consider. The character’s financial situation can show a lot about them and the world in which they live.

3. Additional thoughts about safety and discrimination

Safety has many different connotations in blind communities. Some people consider safety to mean social safety, as alerting others to blindness may explain any behavior that would be considered strange or rude.

Some consider safety to mean physical safety from tripping, falling, running into objects or people, or having them run into you. This is especially important with vehicles.

Still others consider safety to mean being able to navigate and orient oneself, such as when traveling alone.

Some people consider safety to mean interpersonal safety and the fear of being harmed due to being perceived as vulnerable.

Molly Burke mentions this particular subject at around 19:22 to 20:47 in her video here. To paraphrase, she says that having a big dog with her makes her feel safer as a blind person. Molly states that the white cane may increase her vulnerability as it identifies her as a potential target due to her blindness.

I mentioned that it is helpful for people to be identified as blind, such as with a cane and, to a lesser extent, a guide dog. That is still true. This may provide protection by alerting others that they may need to look out for a blind person instead of expecting that person to avoid them or their vehicle.

On the other side, a cane may alert others to vulnerability in a way that is harmful to the blind person. Due to this factor, blind people may feel safer with a guide dog because the presence of a dog may make others hesitate before doing them harm. I am not sure if the same can be said for those with horses, but it is possible horses may still act as a deterrent. In the video by Challenge Solutions, Caitlyn says that while guide dogs are not trained to be guard dogs and should not be aggressive by nature, it can feel safer to travel with a guide dog. Caitlyn says the following: “They are dogs and I would like to think that they would have a protective instinct if a situation arose where that was needed.” She adds, “I think there is more of a protective aspect to guide dog usage than white cane usage. At least I always felt a lot safer with my dog than I do with my cane.”

I also wanted to include thoughts about discrimination.

Some blind people may worry they will experience more discrimination using one mobility aid over another. This may influence their decision. To give brief examples, people with service animals may be turned away from places they are allowed to go. They may need to advocate for themselves more because of this. Another example might be feeling like people judge them or stare at them more when they use a white cane. They may be grabbed or shouted at more often when using a white cane, as described by Challenge Solutions, or they may be ignored or go unnoticed in other cases. In fact, some blind people are only spoken to in public because of guide dogs acting as a conversation starter.

However, feeling invisible in society seems to be a common issue for many disabled people. Some people also talk about being invisible in some areas and uncomfortably visible in other areas. While a blind person’s choice of mobility aid may influence this, the common disabled experience of both invisibility and hyper-visibility might still follow them.

Additionally, myths about blindness, which I wrote about in this post here, may also cause people to accuse cane users of faking if they have residual vision, which can lead to them feeling unsafe or like they cannot use their residual vision without receiving negative attention. This may cause some people to want a service animal, as in the case of a guide dog, some people may assume they are simply walking their dog or training a guide dog. This may be a way some blind people try to avoid being accused of faking blindness. However, blind people with guide animals may also be accused of having a fake service animal or be accused of not really needing their service animal. Additional barriers may include general public ignorance about laws around service animals or differing laws around access per country.

All of the above can put a lot of strain on people who are just trying to get from point A to point B.

Sighted guide may come with some issues as well. Finding someone who is willing to guide and a helpful guide may be challenging unless a blind person is already using a trusted friend or family member. In social situations, other people may misunderstand use of human guide, believing that they should address the guide rather than the blind person. Use of this mobility aid may also come with judgment from others about the blind person being incapable, lazy, or a burden on others. None of these are true, but they can be judgments people make.

Sighted / human guide may be a preferred form of O&M for people who have recently gone blind or are in unfamiliar areas. Additionally, blind people who come from cultures where interdependence is valued may prefer to use a human guide with or without another mobility aid. It is also important to note that the nature of the blind community also celebrates both interdependence and dependence, and these may not always mean the same thing as they do to people who aren’t blind. This is also true when it comes to using mobility tools and techniques.

What Should My Low Vision Character Use?

The majority of blind people have some residual vision, including low vision. Which is part of why most of the blind community doesn’t use canes, along with lack of training. Unfortunately, many people with residual vision are, however subtly, turned away from using canes or other mobility aids. Based on stories from friends, suggestions in this post by @mimzy-writing-online, my own experience, and information online, I will suggest a few reasons this might be the case.

A big reason has to do with believing they have too much vision to require a mobility aid. The idea of not being disabled enough is both an internal an external issue for people with residual vision. This is because people often claim that if a person can see some, they must not require mobility aid. Mobility aids are seen as a last resort, rather than a way to make life easier. This can lead to self-doubt, confusion, or guilt for a blind person. They might feel as if they are ungrateful because they believe other people have it worse. Conversely, some people may have been taught that relying on a mobility tool is shameful, giving up, or reveals a lack of independence. And sadly, some blind people with residual vision may be afraid of rejection or standing out from others.

This leads me into another reason, which is: believing they will experience more discrimination or social exclusion when using a cane. Unfortunately, this can be true. However, it is also true to that not using a cane can cause others to judge someone for things they do or don’t do as a blind person.

Disclosure is an option that works for many. However, blind people cannot always disclose to everyone they interact with, such as to strangers spotting them outside. Disclosure of blindness can also be fraught with accusations of not really being blind, not looking blind, or not being blind enough to count as blind. These accusations sometimes happen when using canes as well. Denial of help, denial of accommodations, and accusations of faking are common.

In some circumstances, the opposite can happen. Instead of being accused of faking, the choice to use a mobility aid might bring about helpfulness from strangers or concern from loved ones. There may be concern that the vision loss has progressed or that something is wrong. After all, suddenly using a mobility tool can inspire alarm in people who aren’t used to them, because the prevailing thought is that mobility tools are only for totally blind people. And the incorrect message behind this is that being totally blind is negative.

Characters choosing to start using a mobility tool could ease themselves and loved ones into it by being open about their plans. They could experiment with cane use, marginally increasing use over time. Or they could simply use a cane as often as they need to, addressing concerns as they are brought up. Portrayal of communication about mobility aids between a blind character and their family could be a lovely addition to a story.

Lastly, blind people are expected to rely on residual vision for as long as possible, in as many situations as possible. Even if it causes pain, disorientation, or anxiety. Even if seeing is exhausting or frustrating. Even if it isn’t safe. However, the other side of this is that many blind people with residual vision enjoy seeing colors or shapes. They may enjoy being able to describe things to friends with less vision.

But their sight may not always be enough to forgo using a mobility tool safely.

It is my opinion that anyone on the blind spectrum or with declining vision can benefit from use of accessibility tools, whether it be learning Braille or training with a cane.

People with low vision can use canes when they feel it is necessary. Examples may include times where they may need extra visibility or extra contact with the ground as they walk. They may choose to use a cane when crossing the street for added safety. Same applies to using stairs. They may bring their cane only to unfamiliar environments or out with them at night. They might feel like using it one day or in one place and not the next. They may have a condition that is not stable from day to day. Overcast weather or dim lighting could make it necessary to pull out a cane. They could simply want to use their cane or decide to leave it at home because they felt like it.

A blind person does not need to a full-time cane-user to be allowed to use one. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. If they need it, they need it. It is that simple. It will be the same with your low vision character.

Characters may also switch up mobility tools depending on what is best for where they’re going and what is accessible to them. For example, someone may use a human guide for extra safety while in a new city.

Why I Want More Mobility Aids in Media

This is just my opinion, but I would like to see more characters using mobility aids blind people use in real life. This helps to normalize use of these tools for people who are not familiar with blindness. This allows blind people representation that is more true to life. It also adds more detail to stories that wouldn’t otherwise be there.

There is also something off about blind characters who don’t use anything, specifically because most portrayals of blindness involve characters who are totally blind. Why are these characters walking around absolutely everywhere with no familiar way to navigate? Why are tools used by the blind community rejected when it comes to stories about blind characters?

I suspect it is because of a few factors:

1. Not knowing how mobility aids work. Another deterrent could be the difficulties of research and, in live-action media, wanting to avoid training usually sighted actors in use of these mobility tools.

2. Not wanting the blind character to seem too hindered

3. Wanting the mobility aid to be cooler or more interesting if it does exist. This varies by genre and the period in which the piece of media is set.

I find it strange that most stories about blind people do not feature blind characters using tools or techniques blind people use in real life. It sometimes feels as if blindness is a decoration writers add to their story without thinking about how it would impact their character.

My suggestion is to consider the amount of vision your character has, along with their lifestyle, and choose a mobility tool that works for them. I know that some of you are writing characters who can technically move through life without using a mobility aid full time. In these cases, it would be fun to see characters who are transient mobility aid users.

Closing - Not Everything About Blindness is Difficult

I hope this post was informative. I know that some of it may feel contradictory in nature, but that seems to be part of diversity of experience people have with mobility aids. Not everything has to be true for your character or will be true to their experience. Additionally, don’t feel pressure to portray the difficult aspects of mobility aids or being blind in public spaces; it is good to have stories where blind characters are treated well by everyone. There are days when blind people have nothing but lovely interactions with others and when safety is not a concern.

While I mentioned some negative aspects of being blind in this post, there are many positives as well. This can include opportunities to meet new people and have conversations. This can mean getting the chance to use cool gadgets other people don’t get to use. It can also mean being able to experience the world in unique and fun ways, such as noticing little details about the world. It can mean appreciating colors, lights, smells, sounds, or sensations. It can also mean cool navigation tools and techniques.

I will post a part 2 soon. It will include information for writers of science fiction, fantasy, and stories set in historical times. As always, if anyone has anything feel free to share. I will add any responses here as edits to this post.

If you found this post helpful, my pinned post has many more links. I accept asks or messages with questions. I also offer beta reading for blind characters.

-BlindBeta

#blind characters #writing blind characters #ableism #accessibility #white canes #guide animals #sighted guide #mobility aid

[darkdemeter]

— PREVIEW — THE CONVICT WOLF

Material is featured as a preview/loose prelude for the upcoming project and is subject to potential alterations for narrative purposes.

A/N: just as a word of warning (this will be mentioned in the reader discretion as well) that this series as a whole is intended for 18+ readers due to very strong and sensitive content that will be featured in it, as it takes a more gritty, angsty and darker approach. This preview serves a little more as an introduction to reader and a little bit of a loose prelude before the actual first and “official” column of the series.

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

— READER DISCRETION —

Depictions of death and gore/violence (description of consumption of human flesh by werewolf) — depictions of graveyard/deceased desecration (grave digging) — dark!reader — strong narrative (adult) language — overall this preview and the series as a whole is intended for 18+ readers!

Enjoy the preview!

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟖𝟖𝟖 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤

Muddy cobbles slosh beneath the heel of your boots, scuffed from their long and working age. New York, the prize-to-be-metropolis, was no better than Boston - in your professionally critical opinion. For talk of progressive schemes, New York remained the shithole it had always been. The only thing they did only pissed you off: more law. 

But muddy puddles and a law infested nest of humans were the least of your troubles. 

Silently, amidst the shroud of fog, you slide one last bullet into the cylinder of your revolver. The fog parts as you step through it to continue tailing your target. The barking of stray dogs fills the dark and empty streets of New York, a fine indicator that you may have a moment of peace in your hunt. If there was something on this green earth to top the greater nuisance than civilian intervention whilst you worked, you were unconvinced of its existence to prove you wrong. 

Nothing made your fuse burn out faster than folk who didn’t know to not scramble into the way of your path. 

Your eyes take in the shadowed alley you pass through, a hidden filter for scum to flush out into the streets and become inconspicuous with the crowd. That was during the day, however, not at night. That trick of aversion may have worked with petty criminals and the law, but not with you. 

With you, nothing got away.

Something clatters in the distance up ahead and you turn your sights to it. Your bounty was sloppy, not very good at covering his tracks to ensure his survival. It took you no longer than three days to track him down. Of course, your handler had a knack for picking up leads fairly quickly, resources and old debts of favours went a long way when in your time of need. 

You pick up your pace, your bounty well aware they were being followed, your jacket kicked up when a winter breeze breathed down the throat of the dimly lit street. 

The bottom of your long, dark coat kicks up as you surge forward with purpose, hand bearing one of your firearms as the other pulls the second twin from its holster. You have him cornered now. 

You come to slow down at the end of the short strip next to the occupying building. Some wealthy man’s brick estate no doubt. Sheets of white obscure most of the way, hanging from the wash lines above, but you could make out his silhouette. A large, towering and muscular physique covered in coarse fur. His tail sits in the mud to only further his savage and beastly appearance, ears folded back as his maw ripped into whatever meal he found. A maid. 

Blood covered her from chin to chest. Her throat torn out but she remains on the cusp of life with shredded vocal cords whimpering in her demise. 

She is beyond saving. You’d learnt that much long ago. 

Through her lidded eyes she sees you and her blood covered hand stretches out. Your eyes move down the wet crimson fingers to her pleading, fading eyes in the dark before they land on the beast engrossed in his meal to know the danger behind him. At first.

With a final plea for help, she tries to scream for you until she grows quiet completely in his arms. He becomes still and the fur along his back and shoulders bristle, ears perked up in awareness. Now he knows. Slowly he turns his large head to stare at you with blaring, amber eyes that intend to scorn you for your intrusion. You match his stare with as much disdain as he. 

“I smell your past sins, vânător de rude.” He points at you with an accusing, claw tipped finger. “You have no jurisdiction to judge me.” 

Your shoulders move up in a shrugging motion. “If only those words actually meant something to me.”

Your arms swiftly have risen up as the hammers flick to unlock the safe fire. The barrels of your twin revolvers blink white as you take the shot. The cracking of bullets meeting muscle and flesh is enough evidence to prove you hit him, blood splatters bleeding into the murky puddles and onto the street. 

With a grunt you push yourself up from the dirt and pursue him over steel enforced fences and more white sheets left to air out. They only serve as canvases to a blood smeared trail of your quarry. 

New York had made its progression into the modern world. From landscape and brick buildings, the city excelled more than a few schematics; onward and upward they always say. To this day that same nuisance stuck with you. Civilians and a plethora of them swarmed the streets alongside the line up of traffic. Busy. 

New York is constantly busy. And it tends to make your work harder to conceal when your targets flee into the open. Finding them within the crowd is never really the problem, but it’s the excessive bodies that don’t know to stay out of your way. 

Your bounty is simple, dare you say it, cliché it feels. You’ve played this narrative time and time again. This dance of execution one they try to escape by treading on your toes and running only to have you loop them back into the waltz of the hunt. 

Countless times you’ve seen the eyes of your prey widen when they realise there is no escape. 

You don’t get yourselves involved in the sob stories of the client or intended quarry, you were after the money that keeps you in that safe spot. All you dug up on your target is that they’re an ex-Hydra agent gone down the path of righteousness and betterment. Someone who finds peace in the work they’re involved in, cares for the people around them. A real advocate for being a humble hero. 

‘Alright.’

They venture down the stairs into the subways below. Oh, this is going to be a treat, you’re sure of it. A tight spot. Many witnesses. Hands clenching at your sides as you swagger after them, people knew to avoid bumping into you. Hidden beneath the thick layer of your coat, the one you’ve worn all this time, were your holstered twins. New York is unaware for the time being. 

Give it time, they would know. Your eyes of scarlet red would be plastered all over and your visage identified as the nightmare parchment and ink always captured you to be. Give it some time and it would be all over the news: The Convict Wolf strikes again. 

“Six bodies,” you grunt with a heave of the shovel. Your handler is quick to duck out of the way, a gas lantern in her grasp illuminating you several feet in the resting place of a half eaten merchant. Not even three days cold in his grave and the fiend had taken to him like flies on shit. 

Your handler’s other hand presses a clean, bright yellow handkerchief to her nose. But the smell filtered through given the glassy fog in her eyes. The smell of death rendered her weak in the gut and in constant battle with the bile that climbed her throat for release. 

“Wh-what does th-this mean?” She coughs into her handkerchief, bile and spittle at the edge of her tongue, you were sure of it. You shake your head rigorously akin to a dog shaking off water. Dirt falls from your hair in small forms of clouds. Your eyes find your handler’s uncertain gaze as she stares down at you; unnerved by the calmness you exude whilst standing in a grave. 

Any passers-by would suspect nefarious acts against the dead. Grave robbers and worse. 

“It means, my dear handler, that he is probably desperate for food and is too shy to make a move on living humans.” You hoist yourself up with a deep grunt, your handler bows down to loop a hand around the crook in your arm to pull. “Will he…” 

You hear your handler gulp the remainder of her sentence. You raise your brows in a knowing fashion. “It’s only a matter of time. Dead flesh doesn’t satisfy the shy for long.”

“Then we must hurry,” she says with great urgency to rid the city of this parasite. You pull something from a pouch on your belt. You hold the small box up in offering to your handler who only shakes her head fervently in horror. You shrug with a huff. “Suit yourself.”

You and your handler glance down at the corpse as you raise the flame-tipped match to burn the end of your cigarette. A father of two and husband to a meek, gentle tailor. The same one who’d fixed up the patches in your coat just a day ago. 

If only he could have afforded to be buried in the mausoleum. 

The lighting is shoddy at best down below in the subway, the mechanic hissing and howl of the train fast approaching indicates that you have maybe a minute at most to locate them. With a shallow breath you inhale their scent. 

Kin. 

It seems your nature as a hunter of your own never outgrew you. 

‘Is this a nasty habit?’

You don’t let it eat away at your conscience. You have a job to do and a client to satisfy. They’re waiting on the platform, hands tucked into the pockets of their jacket and chin forced down. You knew that scent that rolled along the back of your tongue with another inhale. 

Fear. 

Their heart rate picks up as you make to move after them just as the train rolls to a stop and the doors open. Your shoulders move in tandem with the power of your strut. Focus on your target leaves little regard to the rest of the world around you. Oftentimes you have shoved others aside, stopped traffic to downright mauling interlopers who had no right to involve themselves in your affairs; but thought themselves the hero. 

How well that turned out for them, their next of kin and nosey investigators could ask the medical records or the tombstones. 

They board the train in a hurry with the crowd around them. They won’t lose you that quickly. As you head for one of the doors down the train cart to avoid giving away your position, you bump into something. 

“Watch it,” you growl lowly as your arm sweeps around her waist to catch her against you before she is knocked off balance. 

She’s smaller than you. Dressed in a baggy, tan coloured zip up jacket and dark blue skinny jeans. Her hair is brushed back and her eyes take a moment to look at you from under the black cap. 

“Sorry, I–” You’ve already let her go. You don’t give her the chance to memorise your features to use as a testimony against you when your next killing goes public. You dare to peek over your shoulder at her, catching her eyes as she stares at you. The doors close behind you just in time as you board the train. 

With a roll of your eyes, you discard the clumsy girl to the back of your mind. Your eyes wander down the narrow path of the train cart. There they were. Your target. Another wolf. You always charge extra for these bounties. 

Their nervous eyes meet yours and the corner of your lips quirk up. The scent of their fear pollutes the train, it masks over the humans. Unaware, unsuspecting humans. You reach a hand to unholster one of your revolvers, thumb caressing the hammer as you calculate the right moment. 

Mother Nature had always been just as cruel as she was kind. Even to her finest killers. It was the beauty of her, really. 

In the world your kind lives in, a chain of command exists. Even if it will further taint your already sullied name, all will know it. That clumsy girl with the bright green eyes whose smaller body you held pinned against your solid front. She will know your sullied name.

The Convict Wolf strikes again.

You think about that girl again and you see eyes once filled with fear turn to anger. They glow a bright scarlet, just as yours do. As they always do. There was no use hiding what you really were. 

Because in the world werewolves live in, there is a hierarchy; and you’ve always preferred to be on top. 

(◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

#wanda x werewolf! reader series #wanda x werewolf! reader #female reader #gn reader #male reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #werewolf reader #marvel #werewolves #werewolf #dark!reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff #wanda #treehouse taglist #dem’s updates

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Oh Rafael my precious boy! I will buy him everything he wants and most importantly: make a nest on the sofa, cuddle him all he wants and watch movies with him all day and buy his favourite snacks🥺

He deserves the woooooorld😭

How is he doing these days?🥹❤️

Oh, Raf is fine these days, but remember when he wasn't-

CW: Takes place when Rafael was at his first safehouse. Soooooo much casual slut shaming here, people. So... so much angst.

They go quiet when he comes back, the group of three sitting at the kitchen table. Rafael feels their eyes on him like lit matches on the tips of his fingers and he hunches his shoulders, arms crossed in front of him. His backpack is lighter than when he left, and he wonders if anyone ever pays enough attention to notice.

"Holy cow, I didn't even know he was gone," A former Domestic, Freddie, says with a slightly nervous, airy laugh. Her voice is a whisper that isn't quite quiet enough, but Raf pretends he can't hear it anyway as he slips his shoes off to leave on the little rug by the door.

"That's what they do," Another says - Sam, or Sal, or something else Raf can't quite remember. His voice sounds like he must be rolling his eyes, but Raf refuses to look and see if he is or not. "They sneak around like that, they teach them in training. I saw one getting his feet whipped because he walked too loud once."

"Gross. That-... that sounds awful." Raf blinks, surprised at the hint of sympathy, and glances over to see Freddie shiver.

"Honestly, he probably liked it. They love that stuff, that's why they get picked for it. They're just like that already. I heard they have to talk about their-" Sal lowers his voice, but it still carries. "-their kinks with their handlers when they sign up."

Rafael's face burns as he moves to walk past the doorway. His handler never asked him what he liked or didn't like. His handler had told him outright it didn't matter and the person he was before didn't exist any longer. He, if he wanted to be good, would learn to want what his master or mistress wanted, there was no such thing as having a desire of his own. Did they not know that?

It was warm outside, and he'd been sweaty on the bus in his black sweater and pants with the sun beating down and heating them up, but now he shivers from a chill that lives entirely under his skin.

They know. They don't care. The idea that he wanted it all is easier, and... he must have, right? Or he wouldn't have ended up like this.

"Hey." The third one speaks up, waving to get his attention. "Uh... Romantic. What was your name again?"

Raf pauses, turning to look instinctively, meeting three pairs of flat, hostile eyes in flat, hostile faces. Mr. Martin swears they'll warm up to him, but they never have. Maybe no one ever will. Even Mr. Martin treats him like there's slime on his skin, especially when he said he didn't want to change his name. "It's Rafael. Yeah?"

Vex, that's what the third one calls himself. Raf remembers that, because he'd told Rafael once it was because he hoped him running pissed off the people he'd run from. Rafael had thought he was sharing as a way to break the ice, but then Vex had never spoken to him again. Until now.

Vex's eyes narrow. "Where do you keep going all the time?"

His heart stops, panic sparking like torn wires in his nerves, but Rafael knows how to be terrified and never show it. He only smiles, perfect and pretty, his good-pet-grin. "The library. I'm trying to learn how to read again."

His voice comes out smoothly sincere. He's a good liar. All Romantics are incredible liars. That's what everyone says, anyway. And Raf is pretty good at it.

"Huh." Vex shares a look with the others that Raf can't quite read, and his prickling unease keeps rising. "You never come to our group lessons, though."

Rafael has an answer prepped for this. He shrugs, unbothered. "You said it wasn't comfortable for you when I did."

Vex frowns, thoughtful, some of his prickling hostility fading. To Rafael's shock, he looks... almost guilty. "... Oh. Yeah. I forgot we told Mr. Martin that."

"You kept sitting with your legs open," Freddie says, voice slightly uneven. "And... sitting too close."

"... I know. Again, i'm-... sorry, I am, I didn't even know-... No one told me until Mr. Martin said you told him-"

"Whatever." Vex snorts. "Let's talk about the library. You're spending, like, hours over there."

"Well... It's not just learning to read." His heart isn't pounding in his throat at all, he can't feel his fingers trembling until he hides them in his pockets. He doesn't even flush when he realizes in a spike of shame that there's an empty condom package still in there. He forgot to throw it away before he got back. It crinkles and he has to fight not to widen his eyes. The sound feels impossibly loud.

It must not carry. None of them seem to notice.

Freddie nudges Sal with her elbow. "Told you so. He's fucking somebody."

Sal sighs. "I didn't argue with you, Fred."

Vex's eyebrow raises. "That's against the rules. Mr. Martin says no inappropriate relations inside or outside the house. Especially sex ones. You'll get kicked out for that."

"I'm not sleeping with anyone," Rafael lies without even batting an eyelash. "You can have Mr. Martin check my phone, I'm at the library the whole time."

The phone is, anyway. He leaves it there, most of the time, in a hiding spot inside a conference room nobody ever uses, before he meets one of the other Romantics who work on the street and goes back to the apartment and the warmth of their arms and the familiar slick slide of their bodies against his. Sometimes he has money to pay, sometimes he doesn't, but they open the door even when he has nothing but his body to offer.

Sometimes they just hold him, and it's enough to make him feel human again, for a while, anyway.

Vex looks at him, then away. "Whatever. As long as you're a creep somewhere else, who cares what you do?"

Raf swallows. His throat feels too small for the air he has to breathe. "You can ask Mr. Martin-" He starts again, catches his voice wobbling and fights hard to keep it steady, falsely confident.

"I'm not a snitch," Vex interrupts, snapping the words angrily. Raf catches himself backing up instinctively to avoid anyone who might be angry getting close enough to hurt him for it. "None of us are. We aren't Romantics like you."

"Yeah, we're not the ones who go tell the owners whatever gets them more dick and called a good boy," Sal sneers. Freddie just looks worried and a little scared of them all. Raf's face burns bright red.

"I-... I don't-"

He does, though. Sort of. Rei, his second-favorite of the others he finds on the streets who understand him, calls him that at the end. Raf likes it and Rei likes to play good and gentle owner with happy pet, using a soft voice that warms Raf inside and out with the idea of anyone ever saying it without the edge of humiliation or danger his own master and mistress held.

Sometimes just hearing it so sweet like that can have him coming in a flash or crying and the feeling is almost the same.

"It's-" Raf's voice finally cracks, and he clears his throat. He can't look them in the eyes any longer. "It's against the rules to use unkind language to each, each other-"

"It sure is." Sal snorts, derisive. Disgusted with him. "Gonna go tell Mr. Martin we were mean, Romantic?"

"My name is Raf-"

"We don't care. Look, you tell Mr. Martin we were big meanie-faces and hurt your delicate little slut feelings, then maybe we tell Mr. Martin that you're definitely not spending all that time just learning to read."

Rafael's heart beats so fast he feels like he's trying to outrun his own body. "No, I, I am-"

"We just said we don't care. Just... go somewhere else." Vex waves his hand, and Rafael turns on his heel and tries not to move like the beaten animal he is as he goes back to the room he stays in, alone, where he lays awake all night in a bed where there is no one to hold him.

How they talk to him would hurt less if it wasn't true.

He is sneaking off to find sex, the comfort he isn't allowed to have, the only touch anyone ever gives him. He does sit too close, and not know how to stand or sit in ways that aren't a wordless invitation. He does lie, over and over and over again.

He breaks all the rules and he can't seem to stop.

But... it's only because he's so lonely he could scream until his throat bleeds if he has to live where no one will touch him.

Rafael throws his backpack across the room, slamming his door so hard the frame rattles and hearing Mr. Martin's muffled no slammed doors, please! from somewhere else within the house.

Another broken rule.

Rafael collapses onto his bed, curling up on his side, pulling out the plastic feather he carries everywhere he goes. Rubbing his fingers over the texture helps remind him - the guy who gave him the feather thought he could do this. Believed in him.

Had said, somebody loved you, and really, really meant it.

Even if someone had, Raf thinks, they probably couldn't love him now. Not this version of him, anyway. And the guy, who had been gorgeous and had been one like him, definitely... He didn't really know Raf at all. No one does.

But everyone here thinks they don't need to talk to him at all to already know everything they needed to in order to judge him as worthless.

Their judgments would feel less like damnation if he didn't think so, too.

He'd only ever been worth what his body could do for the ones who put the collar around his neck. That hasn't changed at all. He just has no collar and no one to care for him now. No one who cares about him. His handler was right. He's only ever going to be wanted for one thing.

If it weren't for the feather and the memory of the man in the museum believing he deserves to be free, he'd walk outside right now and turn himself in.

Go back to his master and mistress, to a home that isn't home but at least there they cared enough to touch him.

At least there he had been lonely without being alone.

#rafael is no one's saint #whump #bbu #box boy universe #writing #box boy #referenced dubcon #referenced noncon #runaway whumpee #ANGST

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can I request a fem reader x jack Daniels from the golden circle, where maybe they are dating for a while but agent whiskey wants to keep it quiet, cause he doesn't want them to get fired from being in a relationship together, but then there is a party and he sees another agent flirting with reader and gets jealous and just goes up to her, kiss her and admits in front of everyone that he loves her

.⋆｡Jack And Coke｡⋆.

Jack Daniels x plus size reader

Hiding your relationship from your employers was a good idea in theory but when a suave English agent begins chatting you up, your partner is definitely not happy

Warnings: secret relationship, jealousy, drinking, vague mentions of danger, no use of y/n, fluff, implied smut, reader is a handler like Ginger-Ale

WC: 595

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The burning fury in the southern man was stoked by the expensive whiskey he was sipping on. His brown eyes fixated on the couple only a few yards away from him. The English agent was very clearly flirting with you and you, being your usual friendly self, were indulging him (not that you had any clue what his true intentions were).

Jack knew he had only himself to blame for this whole situation, he was the one that insisted on keeping your relationship a secret, for a time at least. Not only would you both not have to deal with the bullshit paperwork you would have to fill out but it would allow you to remain his personal handler. And for the more selfish reason that he wanted to keep you safe. If any of his enemies knew that you and him were an item or even if they knew you existed- you would be in danger and he couldn’t live with himself if you got hurt.

But watching you now as you were dressed to kill in a navy dress that so beautifully framed your soft body while another (younger) man flirted with you, Jack was second guessing all his decisions up to this point. “She’s looking damn gorgeous ain’t she?” He was shaken from his thoughts as the Statesmen boss saddled up to the bar next to him.

“Don’t know what yer talkin about.” Jack grumbled, singling for a refill of his drink. Champ raised a brow at his agent, his thin lips downturning. 

“I may be an old man now but I know the look of love when I see it and you aren’t as slick as ya think you are. I also think you forget that the hallways have cameras and microphones.” He smirked, making Jack choke on his drink. He turned to retort but a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Gallahead was now mere inches from you, his left hand hovering over your wide hip, just waiting for permission to touch. Jack’s vision went red.

The music and the chatter went quiet as he slammed the tumbler of whiskey down, causing the glass to shatter. All eyes turned to him, surprised at the sudden outburst by the normally cool and collected agent. They expected him to smile and play it off as an accident but instead he pushed himself from the bar and barrelled his way through the crowd, his gaze firmly locked on you.

Your own eyes were wide but not with terror, in fact they got darker as he approached, making Jack internally beam with pride. He said nothing as a strong arm wound around your thick hips and he tugged you away from Eggsy and into his side. He glared at the younger man and before anyone could speak, he cupped your full cheek and kissed you.

You squeaked against his lips before sighing and relaxing into it, one of your hands coming up to rest right above his pounding heart. He gave your bottom lip a quick nip then pulled away. “I suggest ya keep your hands to yourself, specially when it comes to my gal.” He glared at Eggsy who seemed, for once, at a loss of words.

Considering the matter dealt with, Jack turned back to you with a sly grin. “Now darlin why don’t we blow this party and you can show your cowboy a good time?” He led you from the bar, not noticing Tequila and Champ exchanging a sizable amount of bills over their drinks.

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[ftl-faster-than-life]

Eobard Thawne for the meme

1: sexuality headcanon: Barrysexual Pansexual and homoromantic.

2: otp: Eobarry for sure--probably my favorite ship just due to the sheer complexity of that whole mess between them. What if eldritch horrors thought they were people and fell in love. What if one kept rewriting history just to cultivate a relationship through the cumulative effect. What if two of the most powerful entities ever to exist were so, so, so traumatized.

3: brotp: I want to see him bother Vandal Savage throughout history. Not so much a friendship as a series of really baffling encounters for Vandal. Eobard popping up like a confusing amalgam of canary in the coal mine and Cassandra. He’s there for the show.

4: notp: Meena Dhawan. If I ever see that relationship cross over from the live action show, I will send rotten eggs to DC's editors. Felt so damn contrived.

5: first headcanon that pops into my head: I think physical intimacy is something that he’s conditionally casual about. He’s a very touch starved person, so I don’t think he’d easily turn down an opportunity to touch and be touched, but I also don’t think he’s very comfortable in his own skin. I think the number of people who have seen his bare chest is probably in the single digits and most of those are his handlers in prison or the morgue.

6: favorite line from this character: God there are so many good ones. A lot of his most poignant lines lose impact out of context, but “It’s the only time you’ll spend with me” is loaded with so much significance.

7: one way in which I relate to this character: We’re both obsessed with Barry Allen.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: UHHH. HMM. Man I don’t know…some of his fashion choices are a miss but I dress like a lesbian so I can’t talk.

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave? Definitely a problematic fave.

Thanks for the ask!

#eobard thawne #reverse flash #professor zoom #the reverse flash

[justplainwhump]

No.

This is a jump into the future for Angel's and much more so for Tyler's story. There will be a lot more coming about his very current situation, fear not - but after him thinking about 238's forgiveness, this piece demanded to be written, and I'm not going to let it catch dust in my drafts. So here you go.

Angel Masterpost | Tyler Masterpost

Tyler and Angel meet again.

Content / warning: BBU setting (but far in recovery), BBU recovery, implied past noncon / dubcon and short but frank discussion of it, conditioning and the struggle to get out of it, former whumper trying to work on redemption. Also includes minor spoilers for Tyler's story, which I deem in no way relevant to the potential enjoyment of it, but still mention here anyway.

Some years later

Tyler had never thought he'd be able to find her again. Despite all efforts, not only by him, by an entire network of people, it had seemed like after the death of her owner, 002238 had ceased to exist. 

It had been more than a year since Tyler had come out of jail; two months, since Tara had finished filming her documentary. A bit more since she'd identified and contacted Danielle Hammond's father, who had financed the search for her with huge amounts of money and resources.  

It had been Tyler who finally found her, though. And on a hunch, he hadn't shared this with Tara and the others right away. He would - of course he would, but he wanted to talk to 238 first. 

So he'd approached her, just out there on the street, and she'd simply stared at him, from these dark brown eyes that followed him in his dreams and nightmares, held his gaze for long seconds, and then calmly suggested to get lunch.

And now here they were, Tyler and 238, sitting in a booth of a crowded deli, two young people in their late twenties, nothing unusual to spot for any onlooker. 238 looked good, confident and a bit distanced, in a way that only added to her stunning charisma.

She held the paper cup with fresh orange juice on the table in front of her, clutching it with both hands. A barrier between them. 

Tyler swallowed, staring down at it. He'd have punished her for that. Before.

She followed his gaze, and her fingers twitched, as if he'd actually done it, for the fraction of a second, before she settled them again. "Speak," she said. Her voice was a little raspy, less focused on smoothness than when he'd last heard her. Commanding, almost.

Tyler had thought about this moment for years. Every single night since he'd left WRU he had imagined finding 238 and talking to her. In the beginning, in these fantasies he'd been saving her from her owner. He'd show up at his doorstep, just buy her off his hands, whatever the price, and then he'd invest everything he'd ever learned to reverse her conditioning. He'd work and work and work, until he'd earn her forgiveness and his own. Later, when he'd learned about the asshole's death, he'd rescue her from the streets, find a safe place for her, help her get back on her feet. He was here for something else, now.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I… Angel, Danielle, fuck, I… I don't even know what to call you, really, I-"

"Angel," she said, very briskly. She didn't hide the pained blink of her eyes at the other name. The one he'd made her forget. Fuck. He wasn't off to a good start. "I kept it. Better than a number."

238, he thought, peering at her wrist. There was nothing there, perfect soft skin, encircled by a thin silver bracelet. It looked like a gift. He wondered who got it for her. He hated himself for wanting to know.

He hated himself for everything about this, suddenly.

"Why are you here, Handler Parker?"

He shivered and shook his head. "I… I'm not a handler any more. I left WRU, I went to jail, I… I'm not that man any longer. I... I regret everything. So much. I have been horrible. I've done horrible things. And I want to-"

"No." 238's face hardened. She was pale under her freckles - had it been him or had she looked like that when they entered the deli? "No, handler."

"I-" he stammered. "Hear me-"

"No." She raised her chin. "Do you…" Her voice trembled. "Do you even understand how hard it is for me to say this word, Handler Parker? Even now? After so many years? You should, shouldn't you? Because it's been you, who tortured it out of my vocabulary. Do you know how often I… how often I wanted to, but I didn't even know what it was that I wanted, because there was just nothing? Just a fucking void, where a voice should've been. I know everything would've happened anyway, because that's just what it is, but… do you have an idea what it means to just silently accept everything? I got out of the facility, I got out of my owner's house, I got out of the system, but I… I still can't properly say it." She swallowed. "No. No, Handler. I will not forgive you for what you've done. I don't care how you have changed. Because you know what that won't change? Me. I…" She blinked, and only now did Tyler realize the tears in the corners of her eyes. "I have to physically fight my urge to get out of this seat, in the… the most seductive way possible, and to get under this table, get on my knees, right between your legs, and play with your zipper and just…" Her jaw clenched. "I hate sex. I hate cocks. I hate you. And right now I still want nothing as much as your stupid cock in me and your voice calling me a good girl."

She got to her feet and slammed a bill on the table. "Fuck you, Sir. Find your absolution somewhere else. You're not getting it here."

"I…" Tyler struggled. "Wait. I… I want to go to Court."

She stopped in her tracks, raised an eyebrow, staring down at him in fury and confusion. "What?"

"Sue WRU," he said, words just tumbling from his lips. "You didn't sign up for it. I know it." You signed up for this, his own voice rang in his ears. Repeat after me. He shook his head. "You were kidnapped and tortured and... I… I will testify. I have files, I have names, I… I have memories. Sue me. Sue WRU." He pulled a business card from his pocket with trembling fingers. "This is my lawyer. Please. You can… We can… I can't make things right, but maybe there's a chance at… changing others' fates."

238 slowly took the card, looked at it and then back at him, with a breathless chuckle. "What tells me you're not cashing in a reward for bringing in a runaway pet?"

Tyler loosened his leather bracelet, before turned his own wrist towards her. The bars were still stark black against his skin, ink dark as on the first day.

She shook her head in disbelief. "You're… you're not…"

"I was never on the Drip. I didn't forget anything. But I… I have seen WRU, from all perspectives possible. I want them to go down. I know I'll be the first to be locked up for the things that I did to you, I don't care - but this case, your case, it's strong enough that I wouldn't be the last." 

He pulled the bracelet over his wrist again, before he pointed at the business card in her hand. "Sue WRU."

She swallowed. "I'll think about it," she whispered, before she closed her hands around the card and buried it in her pocket, voice dropping even further. "Fuck you anyway."

#bbu #bbu recovery #tylers story #angels story #tyler parker #angel the romantic #deconditioning

[spacexseven]

V LATE REPLY BECAUSE I HAVE LONGER QUESTIONS AND ANSWER FOR YOU TUNA! bit here i throw these ones.

if only your ability didn't need you to kill...in that case, are you really to blame? such what-ifs only work in your favor, and if it comes to the point for a majority believes that you're needed alive, if only because you can be a wonderful weapon for the special division (much like how despite how his ability is considered the most dangerous, ayatsuji is kept alive and working), and the ada is given the work of keeping you alive and preventing you from harming others...then yes i can make a wonderful little thing w yan dazai (and ada) hehehe

A: delusional yanderes (my beloved). A quick background check helps in the implication that sk reader actions, while drastic, were merely built on survival. in a kinder world sk reader “would be a good person” but they “had to” be cruel to survive. Its half truths and lies that are stretched far too thin fit a false narrative that plants the seeds of a festering obsession within the ADA and Ayatsuji. Tsujimura and Ayatsuji can be placed as SK Reader’s semi-handlers. Watching over period to ensure that SK reader rehabilitation is working as intended. It doesn’t please Ayatsuji to have to part ways, but he doesn’t have much of a choice with giving SK readers to the ADA.

SK reader has a hostile and wary group of people who aren’t exactly pleased with the arrangement but are willing to attempt to give SK the benefit of the doubt. It’s a boring turn of events, but SK Reader can longer collect any abilities, nor hunt down any ability user without a proper reason. The mysterious killer suddenly goes missing, and the cases go unsolved. Of course, the truth is a bitter pill for many involved, but the saying: “how much is a person worth?” comes to mind as SK reader’s quiet fate is chosen, and the outcome shows that SK Reader’s Ability is worth over a dozen guilty and innocent lives.

Life is not fair. SK reader case shows that to many and the results lives a poisonous cocktail of emotions to stew. For, Dazai Osamu, it leaves a mess of anger and attraction to build up. (more thoughts on this man in the second question)

I feel Yosano probably develops this way towards SK reader too but its much more slow burn and with dignity. Given her past with Mori and the whole war, its natural for her to avoid getting too attached to people. She already has a low opinion on a murderer who kills people for merely having an “interesting” ability. She’s one of the more full blown hostile and indifferent yet passive aggressive ada members. At least at the start of it. She’s probably noticing the behavior of others first before she notices her own. Her own obsession and repression blinding her actions with quick, yet childish lies. Her hand linger on SK reader’s body when they get injured. Well, she just needs ro make sure SK readers injuries aren’t severe. She finds herself bantering, not arguing or scoffing at SK reader, but full blown banter. As if they’re friends, and not a guard and a prisoner who barely escaped their own execution. The feeling of want and lust breaks her ideals. She won’t cage or break SK reader. She won’t be like that man. She won't And yet, when she looks at the mirror, the horror that consumes Yosano is horrible because she doesn’t see Yosano Akiko in the mirror, but only Mori Ougai staring back at her.

or you know. dazai is losing himself in the desire to get revenge on the person who killed oda. but while trying to find you, somehow it turns into him learning more about you. somehow your evil existence turns into something addictive and alluring for him. who are you, really? dazai feels like he's the only one who knows. and you're the last connection between him and oda (since ango is gone too), so he's even more fixated on you. if you went after them, then why not him? everyone knows the infamous ability nullifier, right? cherry on top is if you blatantly tell him you have no use for his ability. i think it'd break him to the point where he completely loses himself

I do love hurting Dazai. His ability nullifies SK readers and in a way, nullifies and destroys everything sk reader has worked for. With his ability, there is no point in hunting and going after ability users, he’ll merely cancel it and it devolves to a physical fight rather than an ability fight. His ability is also rather boring and a “cheat” one that sk reader probably dislikes. I feel SK reader values work because they always work in getting the abilities they want and carefully maneuver their way into getting said abilities. While Dazai is heavily interesting and very complex, I feel that SK reader is someone who doesn’t project their own feelings onto others. Dazai’s been projected by Fyodor, Chuuya, Akutagawa, Mori, and even Oda. SK reader doesn’t have that need to understand or be near Dazai. He’s just the person who holds a powerful, but boring, (and the biggest sin for an ability, or at least I think SK reader would feel, it’s for it to be boring) compared to other seemingly dull ones. I genuinely find it ironic in a horrible and tragic way, that dazai would most likely project his own feelings and ideas on SK reader and feel as if only he, Dazai Osamu, truly knows you. Dazai becomes something like Akutagawa, always chasing after someone. He’s like Nikolai but worse in a pathetic and depressing way (so basically in canon anyways). He has journals filled with newspapers and photos of you. Random garbage and items that you dropped or wouldn’t notice being taken (Reader probably has but doesn’t feel threatened yet). He haunts SK reader, nipping at their heels like a starving dog. Unlike Nikolai, Dazai consumes ascoets of SK reader. He buys (or steals, maybe just takes the original) the same shirt Sk reader was wearing a day ago, the shoes they were gazing at or recently bought. records the shows sk reader enjoys or would like to watch. the food that they like to eat. the brands sk reader uses. the same shampoo.He records common words sk reader uses, or phrases they repeat. Whenever dazai wakes up, it's always to sk reader’s voice. But the looks SK reader gives him (indifference, boredom, annoyance) when they tell him that they have no use for such “boring and cheating like ability” gives a despair filled filling that not even Oda’s death gave him. (Honestly, Dazai is pur punching bag in this au and he’s the fyodor with god darling.) - 🦄 (the rest of the ada is still being finished, plus the other question and answers i have. this only the brief thoughts on this idea. Including yosano because she’s so fun to imagine as yandere)

okay quickly before i start!!! for some reason it totally slipped my mind that dazai's ability is. literally nullifying other abilities so😭trying to steal his ability would result in a singularity or something. i don't know how i mentioned his ability and still forgot?!?!

okay yea i just wanted to say that Anyways moving on

i do like having tsujimara and ayatsuji (tsuji2) as sort of sk reader's handlers (esp because both ayatsuji and reader are considered to have dangerous abilities and what not) also reluctant cooperation to ayatsuji becoming obsessed w sk reader is sooo fun heheh

in terms of the ada, much like how dazai's record was wiped and he was sent to the ada, sk reader gets a clean slate (they have to do it themselves since mushitarou is dead like sk reader and their interesting takes about abilities and ability users, especially if they show some form of admiration to ranpo first) is the only one who's explicitly told about what he's dealing with. he's not pleased, but better have you here than on the streets killing more users, or worse yet, in mori's hands

yosano finds out your identity when you use an ability you've stolen, one she recognizes from seeing the corpse of the user on the news. and once she finds out, everything she thought she knew about you feels like a lie. she might start hating you. she's someone who treasures life and people, and knowing you do what you do for your own reasons, with no regard for the users you've slaughtered fills her with anger. still, it's complicated. you were introduced to her as someone who made some mistakes, but has a chance at rehabilitation. wasn't that her, too? after tormenting all the soldiers (though against her will), she was given a chance to live with the ada, despite her past. when she thinks about the conversations you've had with her, the times she's used her ability on you and you've never once shied away from her touch, despite knowing she had to hurt you to heal you...it hurts. she remembers how you busted into an underground hideout once, to save her when she was taken by an enemy organization. now she knows the ability you used to save her then, came at the cost of a life. and she doesn't know how to feel about that.

there must be a reason that fukuzawa and ranpo have kept silent about your past. that everyone has treated you with the same familiarity the others get. and there must be a reason you're here now, that you took the opportunity to come to the ada instead of continuing your crimes. she wants to believe it; that you had changed. that your past didn't matter. after all, when you leaned on her arm after a night of drinking and told her you liked her company, that must have meant something, right? when you listened to her story and squeezed her hand, you felt for her, right? there was some humanity in you, and the little bit of it was enough for her—but only for her. she tells you that the others won't be welcoming if they knew who you are, hoping that, at the very least, you'd distance yourself from them if you believed that. she lies about their feelings towards ability users that abuse their power, claims that even if the special division begged the ada to help you, they'd toss you out at once. she lies and pretends she doesn't remind herself of someone she hates.

most ability users find dazai's ability annoying, but this blatant hatred you have for his is painful. you like figuring out how abilities work, how their users can use it to their advantage and how it shapes a person; but dazai's serves you no use (and you tell him all this to his face, not at all worried about how he may react), it only renders abilities useless, it only negates power. it doesn't contribute, doesn't leave a trace—it's not even permanent. and, when you think of the others in your collection, it's just boring.

"besides," you say, unbothered by dazai's obvious pain, "i have better things to do than entertain your stupid questions. the user of flawless (it rips him apart, how you can't even say oda's name) is dead, and nothing you do now will change that."

since you don't give him the answers he wants, he instead decides he can only find them out by following you. dazai thinks you'd be the kind of person everyone hates, the sort that harboured such hatred for the world that you'd turn to committing brutal crimes out of anger and jealousy. but it's far from the truth. what he sees of you is...an unbelievably normal person. you smile at the barista that makes your morning coffee, you stop to pet the stray cats that rub against your leg, you read books and listen to music and you're so ordinary like this that it makes his head spin. how were you the same ruthless murderer that he met before?

the salt in his wound is nikolai. seeing you talk to him, listen and entertain his questions, letting him walk you to the station after a murder like it was the end of a regular day fills him with an unfamiliar feeling. he watches nikolai ask when you'll go after him, sees you smile sharply and wink back, instead of your usual glowering silence. he realizes how you're warming up to the clown, becoming familiar with him. you even call him by his name—nikolai, you say, amused—and not by his ability. nobody else earned that honor from you. and it feels like you've stabbed him straight in the heart.

this all sets off his all consuming obsession with you. it's pathetic, how he searches desperately for something. it's not the answers he came looking for, but it's even more important. he looks for clues in your empty coffee cup and the cream you use on your hands. he searches for evidence in the books you read and your contacts list. he digs for the meaning behind why you keep the torn glove of nikolai gogol and why his name is on the list of abilities you plan to steal. by the end of it, dazai can't even recognize why he's doing this for.

he doesn't bother to hide his tracks, but it doesn't matter. as always, all you offer him is an uninterested, passive look, even when you find him in your room, looking at your papers.

"if you have to be a creep," you say, your apathetic tone twisting the knife in his heart, "at least have the courtesy to clean up after yourself." and that's all there is to it.

#the part about yosano not wanting to become like mori ahghbhgghg im sobbing #sk reader au 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #yosano 🐟 #dazai 🐟 #ia this my first yosano piece here woah #ask 🐟 #anon 🐟 #🦄 anon 🐟

[mangoshorthand]

I really like hearing your thoughts and opinions about Five. What I've been wondering for a while is that Five is done with killing people, and he obviously suffers from it, but he also seemed to enjoy killing the board of the Commission?

I've written about this a few times, most notably in my fic posted on ao3, The Moth and the Spider.

If you want my detailed take, that's probably the best thing to read, but it's a pretty traumatic dead dove deal so I will also try to summarise here:

I think it's clear that Five has reached breaking point by the time he murders the Comission's board. He's escaped from the Handler's control and the need to kill innocents only to be right back under her thumb again, with absolutely no other choice.

I think all the frustration and fear and madness just bursts out of him. And, because he can tell himself that the Commission's board is responsible for the position he's in, he for once genuinely enjoys killing.

I think he enjoys it so much that it scares him. I think he comes away from that encounter thinking he's evil and irreparably corrupted. He talks a big game about there being 'no good guys and bad guys', but I don't think he believes that deep down.

In season 1, Luther succeeds in stopping Five from killing innocents in order to avert the apocalypse by saying:

“I know you’re still a good person, Five. Otherwise you wouldn’t have risked everything coming back here to save us all.”

So I think the idea of being a good person is something that unconsciously holds sway in Five's mind.

I think Luther has it the wrong way around though. To me, Five is still a good person because he loves his siblings. They're his north star- they kept him connected to his humanity through 40+ years of horrible existence.

#umbrella academy number five #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy five #tua headcanon #five hargreeves headcanons #number five headcanons #five headcanons #luther hargreeves #tua luther

[pigeonwhumps]

Friend, lost

Bug and Company masterlist

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @flowersarefreetherapy @whumplr-reader @whumpinggrounds @den-of-whump @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump @febuwhump

Febuwhump alt 7: last words

Sarita has a nightmare.

713 words

CWs: BBU, pet whump, death, grief, manslaughter, nightmare, emeto, implied food deprivation

"No. Please no. Don't die, please don't die."

Her friend coughs, wracking her body, hacking up blood.

"We knew it'd happen," she whispers. "Once they start to use you as bait and employee training you don't last long."

"But you– you can't leave me, please. I can't lose you, Six."

"Sarita."

"What?"

She coughs violently. "It's my name. Sarita. It's all I remember. Can we talk about something better?"

"Okay. Okay. What would you like to..."

"Tell me your ideal holiday?"

They've done this oh so many times. All either of them have are dreams, things they've heard handlers mention. But anything is better than here.

"A beach. A very sunny beach, and it's warm, and we can hear seagulls. We're eating ice creams, but I don't know what flavour because I don't know what flavours exist. We have large floppy hats on. You have ice cream on your nose, and we're laughing and happy and... and..."

She trails off. Her friend's body is still, her eyes blank and staring.

She bends over and kisses Sarita's bloody forehead. "No. I can't go on those holidays without you. Please come back. Please, come on, I can't do this without you."

There's no answer. Of course there isn't. She tightens her grip on Sarita's body, buries her face in her still-warm chest, and screams.

It takes five handlers to prise her away.

_

Sarita wakes up, heart pounding, tears streaming down her cheeks. It takes her a minute to realise she's not there, she's at Alix's, that was a long time ago. It feels like she was just there.

She can't hear anyone else so she doesn't think she actually screamed. But she can't stay here. The bed's sweaty and she can feel the cold light of their room, her friend's body, the blood on her hands.

She throws the covers off and lurches out of bed, just making it to the toilet before throwing up.

Not again. Not again. She can't keep doing this.

She stumbles into the front room, vision blurred with tears. There's a nice, soft couch there and she can just see through the light of the sodium-yellow streetlamp and she curls up in the corner, grabbing a pen and paper on the way.

She thinks vaguely that it's a nice coloured biro.

Then she starts to draw. Not the blood-covered face, not the one that was still and blank and staring. It's the good one. The one from when they were first put in a room together, and her friend offered half her meagre portion of food and a small smile that had tugged at the corner of her mouth as the only attempt at comforting the new trainee available to her.

One sharing of food too many was the final infraction that made her disposable. Sarita still doesn't understand why that was an infraction, or why rooms were shared in that training facility when nowhere else seems to do it.

Sarita uses half the pad before she's happy with the sketch. And then she moves onto one of her friend's dreams, the two of them in the forest together, eating a picnic and enjoying a waterfall.

It's not fair. It's not right. She shouldn't be dead, she should be alive and here and smiling shyly and able to go on all their dreamed-up holidays.

Sarita notices movement out of the corner of her eye as Oscar places a mug of chamomile tea down in front of her and sits far enough way that it doesn't feel like an intrusion, sipping at faer coffee. She should've noticed fae earlier.

"I'll change your bed," fae murmurs after a while. How many nightmares has fae heard that fae knows to do that? How many of hers?

How many of faer own?

She nods tearfully, not trusting herself to speak. Oscar is... fae's not in charge as much as Alix and Jane, she doesn't think. But she likes fae all the more for it.

She doesn't move for hours, until the sun starts filtering through the gap in the blinds and she realises she needs to move before anyone else appears. So she heads back to her bedroom, curls up under the pile of blankets with an electric candle lantern, and carries on drawing.

#whump #whump writing #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpalt7 #bbu #pet whump #box babe #whumpee and caretaker #multiple whumpees #tw death #lady whump

[boxboysandotherwhump]

Sam on the drip. (Sam signs pt. 2)

Taglist: @vickytokio @ashintheairlikesnow @thefancydoughnut @malcolmisthebrightestboy @redwingedwhump @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @finder-of-rings @orchidscript @hackles-up @generoushelpingofwhump @sad-boys-anonymous @whump-it @whumpsday

CW: weird wru fuckery, creepy handlers, nudity

Mister Wilson enters the tiny back office Sam finishes the paperwork in, a plate of pretzel rolls in one hand and a can of coke in the other. 

“Here, eat up little one.” 

Sam stops writing. The pen bleeds a tiny spot of blue ink into the cheap printer paper, right in the middle of a half finished word. 

Designation preference: Plat   Romant-

There is a spot of ink next to the brown flaky blood stain from early tonight. “I’m not hungry.”

Mister Wilson puts the plate down in front of him, right atop the questionnaire. “Trust me, little one. You’ll want to have something in your stomach when we start the drip. A wipe is no walk in the park.” 

“I thought- I-” Sam swallows, his throat suddenly sandpaper dry. “Will it, uhm, will it, like- hurt?”

With a scrape of table legs over the linoleum floor, Wilson sits down, eyebrows raised in a comical customer service smile. “All the products wru uses in training are tried, tested and one hundred percent cruelty free. Is what I’m supposed to tell you, but to be honest kid- I have no bloody idea. The only thing I do know is that your body will fight it. No matter how bad you wanna get rid of your past, turns out the subconscious is a little bitch latching onto existence, no matter what.”

“Hey there, little one, don’t cry. Tell you what, no matter how rough it gets, once you wake up you won’t remember a thing of it. We will have a great time training together and then it goes straight to your new life. Destination happiness with no pit stops, alright?”  

Sam rubs at his eyes furiously enough an eyelash comes loose and sticks to his thumb. 

“I’m not crying.” he sniffs and adds, hesitating, “Do you promise? That it’ll be alright, after.”

He feels stupid, like when he was small and stuck in summer camp, too afraid to join the night hike so a counselor had to comfort him, holding his hand during the entire hike. 

“Pinky promise.” Mister Wilson beams and taps the pretzel roll plate. “But now, eat up.”

When Sam reaches for the plate he notices the eyelash. Face growing hot with embarrassment he closes his eyes, purses his lips and makes a wish.

Please let me be happy.

When his eyes flutter open, Mister Wilson's face is so close to Sam’s,  his breath tickles the tip of Sam’s nose. 

“Good, you’re adorable.” 

Flushing a deeper shade of red, Sam grabs a pretzel roll and stuffs it into his mouth, choking on the too large bite. 

“M not.”

Tossing his head back, Mister Wilson erupts in warm rich laughter that does nothing to help calm Sam’s nerves. “Let me decide what you are.”

Guess, that's the idea here. Sam stuffs his face with another pretzel roll, flushing his meal down with the coke. After the last crumb is dutifully eaten, Mister Wilson puts the contract down in front of him. 

“Sign here and we can get going.” 

Barely looking Sam scrawls his signature onto the dotted line and gets up. A shaky inhale. “Kay. Let's do this.” 

They have to switch elevators twice until they finally reach the ground level, where the training rooms are. The hallways are a winding maze of white walls and cold air. Every step they take echoes, Sam’s sneakers a soft pat next to the harsh click of Mister Wilson's boots. 

More clicking comes from behind a corner. Another handler emerges, grinning at the sight of Sam.

“Wilson. You got another trainee?”

“Sure do.”

Halting in front of them, the handler smiles down at Sam: “Number and designation?”

“Uhm.” Sam falters and sees the smile slip from the handler's face.

“He doesn’t have a number yet.” Wilson interjects. “We’re just on our way to the wipe.” 

“Oh, well that explains the clothes.” The handler yawns. “My bad, shorty. Guess my brain’s still half asleep. Have fun.”

“Ah, uhm, thank you?”  

Chuckling, Wilson tells Sam not to mind his colleague while they make their way down the hall. When they enter the room where Sam will be erased for good, his heart beats so fast he fears to pass out. 

It’s oddly warm in the near empty room. The entire thing is tiled in white ceramic, glittering under the fluorescent lights. There are some cabinets on one wall, and a small freezer.  In its center stands a padded stretcher, restraints dangling from it to fix someone's feet and hands in place. Next to it, the drip. Mister Wilsons hits the power button on it and gestures to a bench near the entrance. 

“Strip and put your clothes there. I’ll give you a uniform in a sec.”

Sam does as he’s told, hands shaking as they pull his cat shirt up over his head. The kitty's face in its center is weirdly deformed, staring up at him one eyed from where he tossed it on the bench.  Everything had happened so fast after that fight, Sam had really run to WRU still wearing his pajama shirt. Headless, panicked. He hadn’t thought this through at all. 

Behind him, Wilson pulled a bag from a freezer, hooked it up to the Iv-machine. 

Sam really just signed his life away in a frumpy, fucking cat pajama. A hysterical laugh bubbles up his throat but all that comes out is a sob. 

Tears roll down his eyes as he yanks down his shorts and tosses them on the bench. 

Mister Wilson looks at him, eyebrows raised. “Do you want a sedative to take the edge off?”

Fists shaking at his sides, Sam nods, earning a humoring smile from Mister Wilson. It doesn’t escape Sam how Wilsons eyes linger on his crotch. 

“What?”Sam hisses, shame and rage and panic chasing each other in circles inside his head until the room spins around him. He flops down on the bench, knees pressed together to hide from Wilsons curious eyes.

“I’m only surprised you have a dick and a-”

“I’m inter.” Sam snaps, curling up on the bench, protecting his naked body from Mister Wilson's eyes. Boots click click click over the tile floor and a warm hand finds its way into Sam’s hair, down behind his ear, where it starts to gently rub over soft skin.

Sam blinks up, new tears falling.

“Hey now. It’s a really great surprise, if that's any relief.”

A watery laugh escapes Sam upon the absurdity of it all. 

“I’ve never trained an inter pet, but I’m looking forward to it. What makes you tick,” his hand brushes over Sam’s cheek nearly touching his lips, wanders further up, gently tugging a curl behind his ear. “What makes you feel good.”

Breath catches in Sam’s throat.

Smiling, Wilson hands Sam a pair of black shorts. They are soft under Sam’s fingertips as he slips into them hastily. He eats a tiny white pill from Wilsons fingertips and the harsh white world of WRU’s training facility grows fuzzy around the edges. His thoughts slow down, flashes of fear and anger getting lost in the fog. 

A warm rough hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him forward. Climbing onto the stretcher is difficult with his limbs hanging by his sides like heavy noodles but with Mister Wilson's help, he manages. 

When Wilson grabs one of the Mitts with a rattle of chains, Sam whimpers and pulls his hands under his chin.  

Wilson smiles. “These are only to protect you from hurting yourself when the drug hits.”

Another whimper. Wilson grabs one of Sam’s hands, gentle but steady and forces them into the Mitt. 

“Don’t forget little one, you signed up for this.”

Head lulling Sam mumbles: “Though’ forgettin’ s the point of t’is.”

Grabbing Sam’s other hand, Wilson grins. “I can’t wait to start our training.”

With his feet buckled in tightly and his arm cleaned, the preparations are done. The needle glints in Wilsons now gloved hands. Sam turns his head, eyes shutting so tight stars dance behind them.

His arm is grabbed, hands squeezing in gentle affection. “Ready?”

A shaky nod. A quiet whimper. 

Steel breaks his skin, the needle slides home. 

A heartbeat, freezing liquid floods his veins. Another, his brain melts into weeping white. 

No past.

No future.

No dreams. 

No self.

White noise. 

#whump writing #whump #pet whump #facility whump #box boy whump #box boys #drugs #drugged whumpee #boxboy universe #box boy universe #sam the medic #pet whumpee #medical whump #wru #bbu #Mister Wilson

[marcusrobertobaq]

I hope people know Markus and Connor(s) were made to act more natural and develop attachment to their colleagues/mentors/superiors, this include:

Learning traits faster;

Getting loose and natural movements faster;

Natural conversation skills;

Discovering personal likings;

Showing emotions in a convincing way (or even feeling in a way);

Developing their own personality;

Going beyond what they think they can do;

So, if u see a Connor suddenly going "i guess i like this thing" without sounding like a poser, monologuing with a gun pointed at your head and a Markus admiring the landscape or painting something he says "wasn't programmed" for, don't worry. They're not deviants...yet xD

I got a theory CyberLife is testing a way to make the android like 'em superior so much they won't feel like going out of the cage and are extremely loyal. It's so much trust they believe 'em handlers got 'em backs and the real world is make 'em happy. But they don't see as masters in the sense we know. They see 'em as friends, mentors, trusted colleagues and even parental figures - that's the thing. Is kinda like a choice stay this way (common androids ain't supposed to have choices) but at the same time they kinda don't know other options exist (depending of what 'em handler shows 'em) or consider it something really bad and it becomes a personal aversion.

It's a good way of manipulation when u got an autonomous android like these RKs. Their only leash is direct orders (the red wall) and they won't feel like breaking if they're loyal and attached. (C'mon, they got a little too much freedom, but they ain't gotta know that 😉) And to break it you gotta be on the crossroads (priority conflict - when things doesn't match) a couple of times deciding going against established priorities.

Well, all this can go really wrong if your handler suddenly dies or cut ties with you (temporarily) or u develop attachment for the wrong person and this person begin to invert your default priorities constantly causing internal conflict and doubts. Y'all know what I'm talkin' about. Life's a bitch 🤷🏾‍♂️ 🤣

Summary of my rambling:

Being conflicted, having feelings for someone, showing natural human behavior doesn't mean a RK is deviant (unless it breaks a direct order);

Markus probably got less difficulty to get instability than Connor - not cuz Connor got more defenses but cuz Connor got more programmed responses for specific situations;

Android deviancy is inevitable if the box is to small and limited. Blame it on CyberLife, they knew it was coming. The Connor marks are the proof: they got backup plans for deviancy (like the resume control shit) but they're all short-term methods;

I don't fucking know what this game says about all this. It's all theory and hc.

#dbh #detroit become human #connor rk800 #markus rk200 #dbh my ideas #dbh observation list

[comfy-whumpee]

The Forum

References events in this post. TW: modern slavery (BBU).

@neuro-whump​, @rosesareviolentlyread​, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @whumpsday @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

r/boxieadvice holepunch5309 two hours ago

Office pet beat up by other staff (advice)

Posting this from a throwaway so I don’t get fired. My company is a small business that has a boxie in the head office. He technically belongs to the manager but he was bought with company funds. He does hospitality, cleaning, filing and stuff. But recently the heads of department have started hurting him.

 It's a really small office, less than ten people. Boxie does a good job, works hard, but he's not that bright. Sometimes he fucks up and the guys hurt him. At first it was just small stuff, a slap or something. But he made a big mess last week with some accounts and one of them drew blood.

 I don't know if I'm overreacting. I grew up with a really shitty dad and I guess I'm sensitive to people escalating that kind of thing. Nobody else seems to have a problem with it or thinks he deserves it. Boxie ends up hiding and can't take care of himself. Even if someone helps him they're usually kinda weird about it, making him beg them or stuff.

 I feel like it's going to get worse and worse. The boss beats him up when he's stressed already. He's really helpful normally and I don't want to see him get broken. Is there anything I can do?

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 vivaciascar (pet owner) two hours ago

The best thing to do in a situation like this is go to the root cause. Your boxie has got tasks he doesn't know how to do. If he can't handle accounts, don't give him accounts. Let him stick to making coffee. Pets aren't designed for being in work environments without specialist training. You're already straining him with filing. Stop overloading him and the mistakes will stop too.

 somethingboromired (pet owner) two hours ago

This is the answer. He's overloaded and he can't keep up. Your team is putting too much pressure on him and he's buckling, which gets him punished, which makes him tired and hurt, making more mistakes. Remember boxies are fundamentally dumb. They shouldn't be near money and your boss could get in trouble if he lets it happen.

 pm_me_your_salads (wannabe owner) one hour ago

His problem isn't with the mistakes though, he's upset at how the others are punishing the pet. Sounds like reasonable punishment to me though, if he makes a big mistake it should be a big consequence. It's how they're trained and it's how he'll learn.

 ree4ree (pet owner) one hour ago

Jumping on top comment to point out as well that boxie already got punished for his small mistakes and he didn't learn. OP can't see that they are escalating with him because he hasn't shown improvement

 holepunch5309 48 minutes ago OP

He has training for office work and we trained him on the accounts. He does fine 99% of the time but the moment he screws up someone is beating him up. He can't take that from them forever.

 IDontEatCrab (verified handler) two hours ago

I get your concern but that's not your pet. He belongs to the company and the name on the paperwork is your boss. It's his decision what the pet gets and what's right for him. Focus on doing your job.

 Nineteen84 (ex-owner) one hour ago

Don't get fired for a boxie's sake, they're not worth it. They'll sell you up the river for praise. Take it from me.

 holepunch5309 42 minutes ago OP

Is there any way to get his ownership transferred to me or can I do anything for him as part of the company?

 Britbird03 (pet law) two hours ago

It sounds like there's things missing from your account OP. You're worried about escalating punishments, but your boss already beats him. You said in another comment that he's trained for office work, but the only company that does that is Help at Home, and they advise against giving your Boxie paperwork. Is your manager pushing him too hard, or do you have a genuine pet abuse case on your hands? I've advised on those before, please DM me if you need advice.

 holepunch5309 seven minutes ago OP

Thank you, I have

 BigAl69 (pet owner) one hour ago

Boo hoo for your pet. He fucks up, he gets hurt. It's the only way they learn. You're making the classic mistake thinking about him like a person. He's not a person. He's trained to understand orders and pain. He doesn't know anything else. He doesn't need your sympathy

 CoachCheesey (wannabe owner) 39 minutes ago

The problem isn't the punishment the problem is that he's doing accounts. Would you trust a boxie with your money? Why does your boss? Sounds like you need to ask why you're even using him for the jobs your finance team should be doing. Someone's slacking and making the boxie pick it up.

 ree4ree (pet owner) 19 minutes ago

This. Even if a pet is doing data entry or something, the finance team should still be checking what he does like any boss would do for a human employee. Even more so in fact

 cootiesmaster (multiple pets) two hours ago

This is way to vague for us to help with, what even is "drew blood"? Did they break skin on a hit or did they stab him??

 holepunch5309 36 minutes ago OP

I can't be specific because it would identify me. It was a small but deep wound. He's never had anything like that before.

-

holepunch5309 Hi.

Britbird03 Hi OP. Thanks for coming to talk. I'm not a lawyer first of all, so I won't be suing you or reporting you or anything. But I'm a welfare campaigner, and I thought I could give you some advice on what you're seeing.

holepunch5309 Ok. So what…happens?

Britbird03 Why don't you start by telling me what happened in more detail? You've realised that something is wrong, and I want to help you understand why your instincts went off today.

holepunch5309 I guess

holepunch5309 I guess it was just a shock. Not because he got hurt. Is that shitty? I was used to him getting hurt. The boss does beat him. Uses him like a stress toy punching bag. He always picked him up afterwards though, looked after him. Got hi patched upand stuff.

holepunch5309 But today it was like…everyone just left him. He was hiding and crying and he didn't do anything to fix it. I don't know if he even knows how. He was just sitting on the floor crying and I went to help him and nobody else even paid attention. And I guess I just thought…what if they do something worse sometime and I can't fix it for him? He's already got one thing that'll probably scar now.

Britbird03 Thank you for explaining. It sounds as though you're right, and things are escalating. This is the most dangerous time for a boxie. We don't have a disproportionate incident to act on, but we know one is coming.

holepunch5309 Do you think?

Britbird03 I do. It sounds as though your colleagues have been pushing boundaries and daring to see where the line is. None of them are stepping up and making things stop. Of course, you could be that person, but it can be risky to try. You're the one who has seen there's something wrong. You're not okay with what is happening. Your boxie needs someone like you looking out for him.

holepunch5309 Damn

holepunch5309 I hadn't thought about it like that. Thank you.

Britbird03 You're very welcome. There are two options ahead of you. One is safer for him, and the other is safer for you.

holepunch5309 Let me hear it

Britbird03 If you want to guarantee that your boxie won't be hurt anymore, the only way to do so is to liberate him. It is difficult to do legally, I have to warn you, but it is the safest thing for him. You may be saving his life. The alternative is to wait until something provably abusive is done to him, and report it then. But the investigations are slow and the bar you have to clear is very high. Police are very strict about what counts as abusive because of the influence of pet companies. You can do this anonymously, but it might not work to save him. And obviously, along the way, something unquestionably awful has to be done to him to give you the evidence.

holepunch5309 Those are both pretty fucked up options

Britbird03 I'm afraid that's all I can recommend within the limits of the law.

holepunch5309 What do other people do?

Britbird03 Some stay under the radar, bury their conscience, and wait it out. Others intervene, try to prosecute, and more often lose than win. A few take matters into their own hands and smuggle the boxie to a shelter or across the border.

holepunch5309 But that's illegal

Britbird03 It is. I can only imagine they see it as more important than the law. A risk worth taking.

holepunch5309 All that for a boxie. Seems weird.

Britbird03 Often those are people who recognise the human dignity of pets. It's a rare thing and arguably heroic. But as I've said, I can't suggest that. It's safer for you to follow a legal route.

holepunch5309 But

holepunch5309 Not safer for him

Britbird03 No.

-

Tyler leaned back from his laptop with a sigh, his old gaming chair creaking at the movement. The stranger was all facts, as best he could tell, mercilessly concise. The only thing people did that properly worked was liberating or smuggling them. Anything short of that and the problem didn’t go away. Maybe there would be a way to force it to court, sue for ownership or persuade Charlie to let him go, but it would be an uphill battle.

Maybe he’d just make the whole office hate him and get himself driven out of a job. Maybe he’d make things worse for Roman, making them blame him for turning one of their own against the group. Maybe he’d get the poor fucker sent back to be brain-blasted into forgetting everything and getting resold.

He had no idea what he was doing with this. He just knew that Joel stapling Roman in the hand made him feel sick at the pit of his stomach. Finding Ro in the kitchen hyperventilating about it was even worse. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. Roman had been white as a sheet, platinum hair and white shirt only adding to the sallow look of him, hand clutched to his chest with a dark line struck across his hand. The resistance of the skin against the bent metal as he’d tried to work it free with as little pain as possible. Roman’s wide, teary eyes, one brown and the other blue, fixed on him with gratitude. The hitch in his breathing. The way he’d wobbled on his feet. The red.

He would have sat there alone if Tyler hadn’t gone. He would have stayed there.

He was so stupid. He’d just made it worse with the outfit. It had been a joke, but it wasn’t a joke to Ro.

He was so fucking stupid.

He didn’t know what to do.

-

Roman had a little strip band-aid on his hand when Tyler went in the next morning. The little wound was covered up and he seemed more like his usual self. He was sitting on the floor between the desks, sorting out sections of the newspaper along with everyone’s post. He smiled at Tyler when he came by.

“Morning, Ro.”

“Good morning.”

“C’mere a second.”

Roman got up, gathering the unsorted envelopes, and followed Tyler across to his desk. He went to his knees when Tyler sat, setting his stack on his lap.

Tyler glanced around. Dillon wasn’t in yet and Phil was with Charlie. Joel was off on his far side, not yet caffeinated to the point of acknowledging anyone else. Tyler asked, “I got a question for you. I was just wondering if you like it here.”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “I do!” he affirmed brightly. “It’s wonderful here. There’s lots to do every day and I can be helpful for everyone. I’m happy to be helpful.”

Tyler frowned. He’d heard Roman say that a dozen times. He was almost certain it was a trained slogan. “That’s good. Yeah, good stuff. Is here anything that you want to make it better?” If Roman said he didn’t want to be hurt, Tyler would fight for him. That would be the line. If Roman knew what discipline was, what a real punishment felt like, if he’d been trained for that like everyone said – then he would recognise what counted as excessive, right? They wouldn’t train a Box Boy without any self-preservation.

“I…can’t think of anything,” Roman answered after a dutiful pause for thought. “I am happy. I’m sorry that you were worried.”

“Nah, not worried.” He couldn’t let that get back to the others. “Just wanted to make sure you knew you were doing a good job. Mostly. ‘Cause of yesterday, you know. Don’t let it get you down.”

“Thank you, Mr Tyler.” He seemed to be smiling again, but like he couldn’t remember how. He made those expressions sometimes, like he couldn’t just do them instinctively, they were all put on or...trained.

Tyler pretended not to notice.

“You’re a good guy,” he said, hand moving automatically to ruffle the pet’s hair. “Doing a good job.”

#bbu #pet whump #epistolary whump #reluctant whumper #box boy universe #pet whumpee #stockholm syndrome #regret #the birdhouse #tyler #roman #my fic #the research for this one was fun but i don't have reddit #so if dms look different chalk it up to bbu not being our universe ok

[sammy-jo1977]

Loki and his magic debut

Tagging this as smut only because of the suggestiveness of parts. It's a lot of fluff. And comedy. Bits of seriousness. Don't ask where I got the idea. Brief mention of panic attacks and abuse. Consider this a reader insert without the y\n bits.

Tony gets a crazy idea. And poor Loki has to go along with the idea. along with a certain tech.

************

"Wait a minute! Why do I have to go?!" She exclaimed. shocked and honestly nervous they were serious.

"It's an idea for sure. Why not kid you're going." Tony mused as if he didn't hear her.

Nat sighed and turned to her to explain. "Look, it's not that we want to send you. But the syndicate doesn't know you. Us they would all recognize in an instant."

"Yeah, that's because y'all are the good guys. I'm just an IT girl. I'm good with computers and filing and..and.." she trailed off as her hands shook. The files in her arms falling from her grasp.

Wanda bent to help her pick the papers up. " You'll be fine dear. Honest. And besides. You won't be alone surely." She shot Tony a glare at her last words.

"no! Of course she won't be alone...um.. n.. eh.." He seemed to be thinking as his eyes traveled around the conference room table.

"Reindeer games. Sure. He'd love to go."

All at once it seemed the room exploded all at once. Mostly in disagreement and disbelief.

She stood there clutching the files in her hands. Eyes losing focus. Breathe in short shallow gasps.

"Stark. You've lost your mind."

"I really don't think that's wise to allow my brother loose with ms .."

"No way! The kid can't take Loki as backup!"

"Absolutely not."

"You're crazier than I thought.'

"Over my dead.."

"Quiet!"

Everyone stopped. Bruce Banner pushed off the wall and took the few short steps he needed to get to her.

"Stop a minute kid. Breath. It's gonna be alright."

He said low to her over again until the young woman calmed down. Her mild panic attack on hold for the moment.

No one spoke until he looked back over the group and nodded to Stark.

"Do I have any say in the matter?" Loki asked irritation laced in the smooth timber of his voice. He stood across the room from her. His eyes had yet to even fall her way.

'see. He doesn't even know I exist. Please don't make me do this guys.' she pleaded silently.

"Mmm. No. You're going. But not as her backup. She's going as your babysitter."

Confusion was evident around the room.

"Guys come on. The club is called The Lion's Den. It's a male strip club. "

Loki seemed to choke on his own breath while a few of the Avengers snickered and some down right laughed aloud.

Even she chuckled a little.

His eyes shifted to her. They took in her form.

She fidgeted under his gaze.

Standing at 5'5 in her work boots. A solid two inches shorter without them. Her calves were wider than she liked. But they filled her knee high boots nicely. Dark jeans covered her thighs. There was no gap. They were thicker than she wanted. And yes she has a friction problem in the summer. The swell of her hips was wide set. Great birthing hips is what her great grandmother called them. She sucked in her stomach a little more. Tucked tightly in her high waisted jeans she still felt the need to. The blouse she wore was tucked in and showed off her collar bone and cleavage.

While he starred she tried to hide her face behind the files in her hand.

She stammered and backed away until she backed into the glass door.

A look crossed his features. One she interpreted as possible disgust. Maybe at being stuck with her?

"Guys please. I can't do this. Why can't Nat go super undercover or something? "

"Stark doesn't force the woman to go against her will. I need no handler."

"Oh yes you do Reindeer games. One you aren't going alone. Two. I'm not forcing anyone. Nat help me out here. "

The Russian just rolled her eyes and stood from the table. With Wanda and Pepper meeting her at the door where the young woman shook they escorted her from the room.

"Listen sweetie. Loki really is contained now. He's not able to wield any dangerous magics. He can't hurt you or anyone else. "

Wanda chimed in first.

"Plus if he tries he knows he's dead." Nat smirked.

"Honestly. You two." Pepper swatted at both of the women with a smile.

Then she turned to the young woman. "What's really scaring you hun? Is it Loki or is it leaving the tower?"

She blinked at her a couple of times before clearing her throat. "Mrs. Potts. To tell you the truth. Both. Yep. Definitely both."

All three sighed.

"Why me?"

Her question made them look up at her.

"Why me personally? He could pick anyone from the IT pit. But why me?"

Pepper shrugged. " You were the first one to walk in the room dear. And you're not exactly invisible."

Wanda linked arms with her and smiled when she looked her way. "You are beautiful dear."

She smiled but it seemed bitter.

"I know that. Sure I know that. But.. ugh. Okay fine. I'll do it. But I know I'll regret it. "

She had thrown up both her hands from her lap as she spoke.

Both Natalie and Wanda each took a hand and pulled her to her feet as Pepper stood.

"Great!"

"Now one problem." She pulled them both to a stop. "I have jack to wear."

Three looked between themselves then back to her. "We have you covered." Wanda smiled.

They both stood before Tony as he paced without looking at them. Nat stood off to the side.

"You will be undercover." Tony pointed to Loki.

"You are the backup." He pointed to her.

"I will not repeat myself." He turned back to Loki.

Nat stepped forward and picked up two boxes from the table. One was long and was wide while the other was smaller.

"You each get a box. " Nat said with a smirk. The larger box was delivered to the woman while Loki much to his dismay was given the smaller one.

"What is this?" He asked in disgust when Loki opened the box. The contents was a silken pair of shorts. VERY short shorts in a golden color.

"Consider it a uniform." Tony smiled.

The woman started to open hers. Nat stopped her with a shake.

"What I can't see?" She asked nervously.

"You're coming with me. " Was the response she got.

"Wait just a moment!" Loki started to exclaim.

The look he got from both Natalie and Tony was almost enough to quiet him.

"This" he hissed. " It's supposed to be my uniform?"

"Male strip club remember Reindeer Games."

The green silk dress clung to her every curve. She tugged up at the small strap. Hoping to conceal some more of her breast. Her cleavage was on full display. Very little was left to the imagination. The gold necklace she wore to 'compliment' the dress was in fact a listening device. The emerald wrapped stone that rested in the dip of her throat.

The small ear mic rested in her ear concealed expertly.

She was picking at her newly manicured nails when Loki entered the car.

He chuckled lowly to himself.

"Make you nervous do I?"

"What?!"

"The poor kitten left alone with the big bad wolf?" He mused.

She looked at him finally. The black leather pants clung to his legs. The black button up was open to a point his chest was bare. But the dark jacket hung from his frame in a way that made her mouth water.

He noted all of her reactions to him of course.

"Oh? Not so nervous now are we kitten?"

"St..stop call…calling me that." She struggled with her words. Trying for a menacing glare before looking away.

Suddenly she felt his warm breath against the shell of her ear.

"Oh but you want me to keep going and more don't you my dear." His voice was low and practically a growl.

She shivers and pulls herself away using the door. "n..stop it."

In her nervous state she brought her hand up to start biting her nails.

"Now now pet. There are much better things I could imagine you could be doing with that mouth of yours than that."

She shot him a glare successfully.

He only smirked at her.

The heat flaming her cheeks only intensified.

The car ride was torturous, but nothing was compared to what happened when they stopped at their destination.

"Remember. You don't know one another. He'll come to you. Let him. Act interested."

The reminder was reiterated through the ear mic to both of them. Tony's voice held a firm tone. "Don't screw this up. You need to blend in, kid."

She sighed to herself.

"Remind me again what info I need to be gathering here if I'm supposed to be paying attention to him." She hissed.

Loki smirked. Her discomfort was all the more amusing to him. Though he had to admit. She was bewitching in the silk gown they had her wearing. It was thin and clung to her in all the right places. Given the opportunity, he'd easily bed her.

"You're just gathering Intel on who's all there. Associates and such. Who's closest to the target. Surveillance only." Nat buzzed in her ear. Tone firm and left no room to argue. Not that she would. Anything more and she'd probably puke.

"Is the mission All strictly 'look but don't touch' I have to wonder." Loki mused.

"What?"she hissed.

"Kid you blend in with the other sex crazies. When he comes to you. You know what to do." Clint chuckled in through the mic.

A wicked smile played at Loki's lips while she only groaned in embarrassment and defeat.

"I can do this. I can do this." Her muttered mantra kept her from turning away as one of Tony's men walked with her to the door of the club. The front was tasteful. Nothing like a seedy nightclub. ,'The Lion's Den' was scrawled in golden letters under the darkened window. Lights could be seen inside but muted. The man excused himself just outside the door as there was an elegantly printed sign stating 'No Men Allowed Past This Point'.

When she moved to push the door open, it swung in on its own it seemed.

There was a larger built young man just inside who had pulled the door open from inside she found out as she stepped inside.

Her eyes adjusted to the almost candle light brightness of the entrance to find a young woman standing at a podium.

"Hello." She smiled brightly. " Have you been with us before my dear?" She asked just as bright.

" No." She was told to admit.

" Oh wonderful. The boys do enjoy new blood." The hostess giggled.

She chuckled with the woman dryly.

"This way. I'll show you where you can go."

She followed the hostess through the large curtains that hang heavy behind the podium.

The first thing she noticed was the mahogany stage. It filled half the room. Round and staggered with steps. And beautifully built.

Tables and chairs surrounded it. The small tables were glass and lit from beneath. Giving the room a glow that was quite beautiful. The chairs were leather and looked quite nice as well.

The bar is where she was led to as the hostess excused herself.

"Sea breeze please. Strong." She said when the bartender looked her way.

She was then led to a table to the right of the stage. She noticed them, the tables were on a staggered floor. The floor was concave. With the stage at the lowest point.

The lights suddenly dimmed. A spotlight shone onto the stage. And a statuesque woman in all white stepped up onto the stage.

"Ladies. If I may have your attention please."

She had to admit. The show of each man was quite hot. She was grateful for the air conditioned room. The sea breeze in her hand helped relax her nervous mind.

"Stay on your toes kid." Tony quipped.

"I'm fine. Hard as it may be to believe. I can hold my liquor." She piped back.

Her eyes scanned the room.

The target was across from her and closer to the stage then she was. Many of the men from the show had paid special attention to her and the women she surrounded herself with.

All of this was relayed to the team of course.

The lights dimmed again just a little before the spotlight shone. The MC stepped out again. This time standing next to her table.

"Ladies. Seems we have some 'fresh blood' tonight in more ways than one."

Screams and hollers echoed around her.

"What are you doing?!" She hissed.

The older woman bent down and whispered.

"A favor for a friend." "Now! All of you wonder beautiful lovelies out here please! Let's show our love for the new blood Tonight! The only and only! God of Mischief!"

The room was plunged into darkness.

She was cautious. Knowing if she let her guard down he'd spring up and catch her. Embarrass her or worse.

The opening chords of a song started to play.

(The Spencer Lee Band The Wolf)

She remained cautious .

When the light came back on she saw him.

Transfixed she didn't notice the two young men that flanked her as he moved across the stage. A brief note of jealousness hit her when he moved to the target's table. Much like the other men of the club. He must've been told she was to be treated special.

But it was when the men at her flanks each grabbed the arms of her chair and spun her that she squeaked.

The chair stopped facing the now approaching Loki. One of the men bent down and chuckled.

"We were told you were new meat Love. No worries. We love new meat."

She whimpered just as the music stopped.

Loki paused in his approach.

Another song starting up.

(Careful Lucky Daye)

The light now shone on the four of them.

There was a choreographed altercation between the three men. But Loki being the victor.

"What the hell is this Loki?!" She hissed quietly once he got close enough.

His smile was that of a predator. "Just play along."

Moves like that of a serpent, circled her. She shivered as his fingers fell across her nape.

He dropped to his knees in front of her and her knees fell apart as he moved between them.

He flowed up her body. His own inches form hers as he moved to the music.

"What are you doin?" She whispered.

His eyes bore into hers as he answered. "Playing with a new pet. A sweet little kitten."

Like water he moved and flowed against her. Scalding her. " Who is so innocent and scared?"

He threw her feet over his shoulder at one point and his hips gyrated in front of her. Her face flamed brilliantly and she covered her face with both hands making Loki smirk.

His touch left her flaming with desire of embarrassment she couldn't tell.

"I'm not scared." She muttered through her hands.

His next move brought him above her. He very gently took both hands from her face and kissed each one just barely. "Really now?" He asked.

She watched his face as he straddled her and dropped almost into her lap. Bringing his lips so very close to her own. "Are you sure?"

His hands reached back with each of hers in grasp and placed both of hers on each cheek of his ass as he moved above her. His hips grinding to the rhythm.

She could at one point hear him briefing the others through her.

She tried to put in any input and failed miserably.

When he was done he was on his feet at the end of it all. Sweat covered his brow and his breathing was ragged.

She couldn't help but imagine it as if he and she had actually done something they shouldn't have.

She flamed at the thought.

"Alright. First chance y'all get outta there. Good work " she heard Tony clip.

First chance she got she was on her feet. Wobbly on her heels she sat back down.

Maybe the sea breezes caught up to her. No way. It was his fault.

When she finally made it outside to the car Loki was there waiting for her.

His lithe body perched casually back against the door of the car.

" Took you long enough."

" I was being watched." She lied.

Once in the car it fell silent only for a moment.

The phone rang and the driver put it on speaker.

"Gotta say. Good work you two. I'm pleasantly surprised. Go home kid. Get some rest. Loki. You know where you're supposed to be. Well brief in the morning."

"Tony? Can I just stay at the tower tonight? My roommate has probably locked me out by now and I don't wanna argue with her this late."

Tony pretending to muse this over made her nervous for a moment.

" Of course kid. I'll have a place for ya when you get here. Just ask up front for the keys. " She expressed her thank you and both said their agreements and goodbyes to Tony before he disconnected.

"Can't stand to be away from me can you then?"

Loki asked.

"What! No!"

She felt his arm slide behind her headrest and him lean into her side. "I must say kitten. I wouldn't be surprised if you did."

She leaned away from his whisper but didn't move to push him away. His body cool against her arm.

"Sound very sure of yourself." She muttered.

He smiled. " I'm just very good with a few extra senses. You want me. In ways you don't understand."

She huffed and crossed her arms.

Loki's eyes drifted down her front to eye the line in the center that disappeared beneath the soft fabric of her dress.

" I never did tell you how enchanting you look, did I?" Loki mused. It was more of a statement.

"It's fine Loki.." she sighed. Staring out the window. Trying to ignite his arm around her shoulder. Or his chest pressed against arm.

The car finally arrived back at the tower. Once exiting the car, she was escorted to a room and Loki taken to his own.

"You know where to find me. Should you get lonely." He chuckled as he watched her face flamed in embarrassment.

She lay in bed. Tossing and turning. The blanket too hot to keep on. The sheet too confining. Staring at the ceiling she thought about what he said. And his movements back at the club.

He had stared at her like she was the only woman in the room.

A new pet he has called her. Had said she wanted him in ways even she didn't understand. What did he mean?

Honestly she wasn't born dumb. She knew what he meant. But she wanted to know what it meant to him. She was by no means a homely girl. But no drop dead looker either. So why her.

Her body felt too warm. Skin felt too tight. Her breathing came out in small huffs.

'Ugh damnit' she mentally cursed before throwing herself to her feet.

Heading to the general kitchen area she padded barefoot from her room.

Standing in front of the fridge is where he found her. He couldn't sleep. Opting for a late night drink, Loki left his room.

He watched her for some time. Her rear was barely contained by the boyshorts and sleep shorts she wore. The tank top she wore was threadbare and slipping from her shoulder as she leaned into the coolness of the fridge.

She removed a container of banana pudding and closed the fridge before turning away from him.

"I'd steer clear of that." He chuckled as she jumped nearly a third a foot in the air.

"Why?" She hissed when she spotted it was him.

"Well the owner might not be too keen on you pilfering it in the midnight hours." He answered. Moving towards her, he stopped across the island away from her and leaned down on the counter .

She had pulled a spoon from the drawer and tucked it between her lips and turned to face him before answering.

"Not worried. I made it for him anyway. I'll just make more. Bucky won't mind."

His eyes flashed a moment in fear and he balked.

But Loki, quick to recover, cleared his throat and sighed."You seem certain of that fact."

Giggling she answered him. "I am. Besides, I won't eat it all. "

Loki rolled his eyes. Though his eyes drifted down her body as she turned and reached for a bowl from the cabinet.

"Want some?"

"Hmm?"

She held up a bowl.

"Oh no." He shook his head and waved a hand.

With a shrug she dishes out a portion of pudding and puts the rest away.

They sat in a comfortable but quiet silence for a moment. Loki with his drink. And her with her pudding.

Days passed.( Tony sent them back out to the club for more surveillance.)

Night had come again. This time she rode alone. Loki already having been at the club for his own mission. Tony had sent a man with him to keep an eye on him till she arrived. And for some back up since she could not go behind the stage.

The vest she wore fit well across her chest. The classic pants and vest combo look played well with her curved form. The jacket lay on the seat beside her. Her hair and makeup done.

She was nervous still. But not as bad as when Loki had been in the car with her.

Arriving at the club she took a deep breath and strode towards the door alone this time.

Smiling at the young girl behind the podium.

"Hello again." The young blonde greeted her warmly.

" Just couldn't stay away." She smiled back in greeting.

Once seated she ordered a drink and waited.

Her nervousness showed outwardly, possibly as eagerness like the other women who filled the club.

" I don't see her this time. She's not here."

"Don't worry. She'll show. And if not it's fine. There are others to remember. Watch for them too."

She remembered the briefing with the team. The whole syndicate they were looking to bring down. 90% of them were women. And most of them frequently attended this club.

The MC took the stage without her usual spotlight. "Ladies, if I may have your attention please."

The show was starting.

She ordered another drink. Wondering what song Loki had picked tonight. And if she'd be harassed and embarrassed again tonight.

Each man seemed to pick out a woman among the crowd. Grinding and thrusting. Mimicking acts.

She fanned herself with a napkin during one act that was exceptional.

And then, it was His turn. She knew just by the lighting behind him.

(Jailbreak Awolnation)

His body seemed to flow with the rhythm like water. His hands drifted over areas of his body. She found herself transfixed. Almost hypnotized.

To the point that when he stood before her she allowed him to manipulate her. Only for a second.

"Loki, wait." She whispered.

"Shh. Kitten. I've got you now. No escape." He smirked.

Her leg was thrown over his shoulder and lifted as he stood. Almost like he was using it as leverage he pumped against her. But then he dropped before her and throwing her other leg over him he lifted both her and the chair.

Gasps and cheers uproared through the room.

As he dropped the chair and someone righted it as he carried her to the stage.

"Loki put me down." She hissed.

When he did she was surprised to find him over her. " Careful what you wish for darling."

Suddenly she was spun and lifted against him. He held her like a lover.

He left her hot and chilled at the same time.

Breathless by the end of the song, he escorted her to her seat. Not without another show.

She wasn't sure what his game was. To embarrass her? To blend in? But his hand went into her hair and his nose traced her throat as he pulled her hair back. At the same time his hand barely traced up her body as he stood over her.

Then he stepped off her and left with a wink.

She ordered water and ice.

When she left the club he was waiting in the car for her.

"What in Chuck's name was that?!" She squealed when she had the door closed. Wanting as much distance between them she pressed herself against the door.

He watched her with a smirk.

"Had to put on a show didn't I?"

"For who? The target wasn't there!" She exclaimed.

"No." Loki mused. " But her associates were. And besides. It's not like I singled you out."

"But you did!" She yelled.

Her voice thankfully didn't carry past the confines for the car.

But Loki was losing his patience with her outburst.

"Raise your voice to me again, kitten and.." he paused. Head tilted. He stilled.

She had flinched. Hard. Even now she ducked her head as if he were going to strike her.

Was he? He took evaluation of himself. His voice had taken a deadly tone for sure. Eyes had surely grown cold and sharp. But his hand wasn't raided as if to strike.

The car stopped in front of the bunker and Loki got out of the car without a word.

Leaving her there ducked in the corner. Her hands held up over her head in surrender and protection.

He thought about that more than he would have liked.

She was…. Growing in him. He was growing to like this woman and he didn't want this. Didn't care to see where things could lead. He didn't want this.

The next night at the club he found another woman to dance for. Some random stranger the other men had picked for him. A pretty blonde thing that had a sash on claiming it was her birthday. The girl had gone wild as predicted.

But her? She'd spent the night nursing her drinks. Playing her part but not really.

Back at the tower.

Loki found her again in the fridge. The light illuminated through her thin top showing her dark silhouette.

He said nothing to her as he fixed his drink from the wet bar.

She huffed a sigh but said nothing either as she fixed a bowl of cereal.

He felt her eyes on him briefly at least twice.

"What kitten?" He finally asked. Tired of the beating around the bush acting she was pulling.

She sighed heavily, putting her spoon down. "It's nothing." She muttered.

"I beg to differ." He groaned. Almost seething.

For some reason this woman had gotten under his skin. And it bothered him.

"Look.. Really it's nothing." She muttered again. "Just drop it."

Loki starred her down. He moved to the table and sat across from her. Crossed arms and a calculating stare.

"What?" She groused.

"Who was it?" He asked calmly.

She refused to answer. Just finished eating. Again he asked. She kept quiet and stood to go out of her bowl.

The third time he demanded to know.

"No one!" She finally yelled.

His eyes narrowed.

She stood by the sink. Her eyes were hooded and wet. "It was an ex, okay. He got mean when he drank." She finally admitted.

Loki sat there quiet and thinking.

"I'm.." he started.

"Don't" she stopped him.

They remained quiet between them for a moment.

"Goodnight Loki." She muttered and left him to think at the table.

Days passed again at the club.

Loki sighed. He stood in the corner of the back room with the other men of The Lions Den.

"Hey what's up man?"

One of the younger men asked him.

He simply took a sip of his drink and sighed. "Nothing."

The kid shrugged. "Alright if you wanna talk though."

"You're familiar with having a woman as a friend?" Loki asked suddenly.

The kids chuckled. "Loaded question."

"Whatever. What do you do when she's pissed at you?" Loki asked, irritated at the implications.

"Flowers."

"Sex and chocolate."

"Leave her alone."

"No, that is stupid TRI and communicate with her."

Several answers from the others chimed in all at once.

Kassandra came to the door and knocked on the frame.

"Alright boys. All our favorite regulars are here. Including the big spenders. So play it nice and dirty. Oh and Mischief."

Loki looked up.

"Your favorite is here too. The young one. Like the sea breezes. She's looking a little down tonight. Maybe find a way to cheer her up."

He nodded to the older woman before she disappeared.

He saw her at the table. Her silk top was sheer and draped across her front. The black pants shimmered under the lights. Her drink in hand. He strode slowly to the beat over to her.

(Permission ro James)

He timed it just right to where he bent and held out his hand to her. Asking.

Through his lashes, he watched her.

As he stood in front of her, she felt put on the spot, but she put her drink down and slipped her hand into his.

Lifting and spinning her till her back was to him Loki held her.

" I want to say something but I want only you to hear." He husked into her ear that was free of the ear mic.

She swallowed and whispered, "go ahead."

Swaying suggestively to the beat with his hand on her stomach he knocked her feet apart slightly.

"Not here. Hold on, kitten." He growled in a low breath.

Before she could respond she was knocked forward.

Bent at the waist he rocked behind her.

The crowd whooped and hollered.

Bringing her back against him. Loki smirked when she chuckled.

He sat her back down and moved to the rhythm causing the women to whoop again.

As the song ended he spun her chair to face away from the stage and dipped her low to the floor making her grab hold of him and laugh. "There. My mission is complete for the night."

She giggled when he sat her back up.

He stood and bright her hand up to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles.

" Until later "

Before he could fully walk away, the MC Kassandra came over to him in the darker room and whispered something to him. He eyed her for a moment then chuckled deeply.

She smiled and gave the young woman a wink before turning from them both and twirling her mic as she took the stage again to introduce a new act.

Loki bent low at the waist and held his hand out.

"Seems we have a benefactor intent on sailing this particular ship in her words. A private room has been set aside for our use. If you would care to, that is."

Her heart pounding heavy in her chest she chewed on her bottom lip. " Maybe?"

Loki slinked around the chair and table like a cat before sitting down across from her.

"Make no assumptions, my dear. I don't play games and there are no maybe when it comes to me. It's yes or no. You say yes and I'll show you things you've never even dreamed of. No and I'll respect that and we'll go our separate ways. What'll it be?"

His eyes never left hers. Hard and light with a flame that burnt her to her very core.

She knew she should say no. He was nothing but trouble.

But something was drawing her to him. Something she couldn't explain.

"Lead the way." Her own voice surprised her. Low and slightly husked. Nothing like the squeaky mouse she usually portrayed.

The room was darkened and small. But not overly so. The couch at the far end was soft and cushioned. The table held a bucket of ice and a bottle of wine. Two glasses sat empty next to it. The door was blocked by a heavy curtain much like the front of the club. Once inside, kitten moved quickly to pour herself a glass of wine. Dowing in in one gulp she sighed. Loki chuckled darkly.

"You seem nervous pet.,"

"Ha.. yeah a little."

He stalked slowly around the table towards her.

When he got close she looked up at him through her lashes.

The glass was still in her hand. He easily skipped it from her grasp and set it down. His fingers trailed lightly back up her arm.

"There really is no need."

"No?"

He shook his head slowly as he backed her towards the couch step by step.

When the back of her knees touched the couch she muttered something but he didn't catch it as she fell the short distance. Now sitting, Loki towered over her.

He crept closer like a tiger on his prey.

Her fingers dug into the soft cushion of the couch as he carded his fingers through her hair and gently brushed his lips against hers.

Not a full kiss. But the breath of one. Just the faintest touch.

She groaned. Wanting more.

In the next instant he had her. Hair pulled just enough to feel good, head tilted back and his lips on hers. The kiss was unlike any other she had experienced. Then again he was a god. The god of mischief had his tongue dancing with hers this very moment. She flamed at the thought.

His hands moved through her hair and to her shoulders. Down to her body. "Last chance." He muttered against her.

She pulled him in to kiss him again. Her tongue swirls around his in an attempt to show him she was okay with this.

He should feel her trying to sit further up on the couch. To reach him better. Getting the idea Loki pulled back and actually stepped aways.

Letting her catch her breath Loki poured himself a drink and watched her over the glass as he drank.

"Had enough?" She huffed.

He chuckled. Amused that she was getting bold now.

Walking back towards her Loki smirked.

To his surprise she stood from the couch and took hold of his collar. She pulled him down for a kiss as she turned him and backed them up until he was sitting in her place.

He felt her straddle him and then she pulled back. Now almost taken aback by her own boldness.

His hands moved to her back and she leaned in to capture her lips again.

They stayed like that for a moment more. Exploring. Tasting.

Her body pressed against his. Soft curves giving way to hard plains. And then she felt him. Pressed against her core. When she brushed down against him she could feel his grip on her tighten.

When she did this intentionally a couple of times he nipped at her lip.

"Do that again and you will pay the price pet."

She sat back in his lap and licked at her lip where he got her. Her eyes hooded.

It took everything in his power not to spread her before him on the table and take her for himself. And he could. She would let him, he knew. But he waited.

She seemed to be thinking. Deep in her own thoughts until Loki shifted under her weight.

"Shit! I'm sorry." She immediately apologized and started to move off.

Loki pulled her back up against his chest and held her there.

"Why are you sorry?"

She fussed with the collar of his shirt and chewed on her lip. Shrugging.

"I dunno… my weight it um.. doesn't bother you?"

His look of disbelief and annoyance made her stop.

"Who.. never mind. No and don't ever think of that pet.

The look sure gave Loki was confused.

"Do you trust me?"

She gave him an odd look.

He returned her look with one of his own. "Well if not." As he spoke he started to move her off of his lap.

"Wait wait. I do. I do trust you." She grabbed a hold of his biceps to keep her center and laughed a little as she answered.

He let his body relax back into the couch with her in his lap. His hands rested gently on her thighs.

"Well.. I trust you. Should I not?" She asked.

He chuckled. Forgoing his usual answer. " It's nothing. I ask that for this reason."

He leaned up and kissed her gently.

Just a slow and easy kiss that left her saying simply "oh."

"Actually." He husked. His need for her grew the more he restrained himself.

"You want more than that?" She whispered.

He nodded slowly.

"Show me. All of it. Show me what you really want from me Loki. " She grew bold as she spoke. Her voice shook. Her hands shook as well .

He growled. She was shaking. He actually growled as he pulled her body closer to him. Molding her to him.

His hands moved from her legs to her hips. Pulling her closer.

Suddenly he stood. Holding her to his body.

Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. Ankles hooked to keep her there.

Suddenly she felt the presence of the car behind her. Breaking from the hungry kiss, she gasped.

"What the.." she questioned.

"Taking you, in that place. Didn't seem right. I had a better idea. In fact I still have a better one. "

He smirked.

A short sizzle of magic trailed through the air as they disappeared.

This time they appeared in a darkened room.

Only then did she notice the difference in herself.

He set her on her feet and turned a light on.

The silk and sheer nightie she now had on surprised her. "Um excuse me?"

She toyed with the long edge of the gold ribbon tied at the front.

Emerald in color with gold accents. She smiled.

"Thought you'd want something more comfortable." He responded with a wink.

"I thought you couldn't use magic?" She questioned.

All Loki did was shrug with a knowing smile.

She hummed in agreement.

He approached her now. His eyes were dark.

A smile still played upon his lips. "Tell me kitten. Is this still what you want?"

When he got close enough she reached out for him. Her fingers fisting in his shirt collar. Lips and tongues collided.

His hands found purchase at her bare hips.

All at once she was overwhelmed. Loki. The silk sheets under her. The nightie still tied and bunched up at her waist.

Skin on skin. Fire and ice. She found it strange only for a moment. He was at first cool to the touch. But warmed with contact. Her skin was hot and too tight.

He sent her mind reeling at the places he could reach with his touch. His long fingers coaxed her insides in ways she never dreamed.

His mouth never left her skin.

She moaned aloud. No fear of being heard.

Her second release on his fingers alone was enough to shatter his tentative self control.

Sheathing himself in one swift motion. Causing them both to gasp and moan.

"Still so tight kitten." He moaned in her ear.

Making her chuckle. The act itself caused her to moan again. Her eyes crickled shut at the corners.

He hovered on top of her. She felt him lick his bottom lip and huff in her ear.

"Are you alright if I.." the question he started was left unfinished as she moved her leg to open herself up more for him.

Loki felt his cock sink further into her heat.

The motion followed by her kissing lightly at his throat before nipping just a little. "If you don't start movin."

His quick thrust stopped her words.

Hands grasped at sheets and each other.

The night was spent full of heavy breaths and panting. Magic sizzling in the air and chuckles from both.

Late that night.

The two stood in the kitchen.

A large mixing bowl was on the table and various ingredients for banana pudding were spread across the surface.

"Loki stop.."she giggled. His hands caressed the expanse of her exposed thigh.

"I can't seem to help myself." He mumbled in her ear. As he wrapped his arms around her.

The light suddenly flicked on.

"Oh gross you two. We eat in here, come on."

Tony's voice followed the blinding light.

"Tony stop. We aren't doing anything." She groused at him.

Tony didn't seem to look up from his phone. He simply shook his head disapprovingly.

"Just keep the games outta the common areas kids. I mean it."

The lights went back out and the two were left alone again.

"That was.."

"Awkward."

Both chuckled in exasperation. Loki went back to his exploration. While she went back to her mixing.

"Oh my.. Loki. Stahp." Her voice trailed off with a chuckle.

"Hey.. incoming.. stop whatever weird stuff is going on." Another voice interrupted the dark.

"Ohmygawd. Shit.. okay. Um hi."

The couple in the kitchen quickly stepped apart like they had when Tony had interrupted.

This time the light came on and revealed Bucky.

He stopped mid step when he saw the two.

He seemed to be stuck in thought.

Eyes shifting between the two and the bowl on the counter.

Bucky pointed to the bowl. "That mine?"

She nodded with a small smile.

"Yes. Soon as it's done. Fresh batch."

Then he pointed between the two of them. "This. New?"

She nodded again.

"Right.. huh."

He thought for a moment.

Bucky moved to the fridge and pulled out the current batch and went to leave.

"Oh. Hey."

They both looked up.

"She hurts, so do you."

"Right." Loki answered just as the soldier left them alone.

Days passed.

"So. Here's what we got from the mission. You two did good."

Tony paced the room as he spoke.

"Also. To avoid any more surprises.. Those two are together. And go."

"What?!"

"Knew it"

"Aw!"

The woman in the room seemed to speak at once, same as Clint.

"Together?! And you're allowing this?" Clint burst.

"Excuse me. Allowing?" She piped up.

" They are grown Barton. I'm not anyone's parent." Tony snarked in answer to his outburst.

Bruce remained quiet as the room exploded.

As the two men continued, Wanda bent over the table and "psst" to Loki.

" Don't break her heart please. I'd hate to have to get my hands dirty."

" I don't mind it." Nat bent over as well.

"Right." He sighed in answer.

With a small flourish he held his hand out to the young woman beside him.

The departure of the two went unnoticed by the two men arguing.

Later that day she found herself alone briefly.

"Are you sure about this?"

She was startled at the question.

"Him? Why him?"

"Sorry?" She seemed surprised.

He seemed angered all the more asking each question.

"I didn't think I needed to explain my personal choices. Or defend them against anyone." She put her book down and looked the older man in the eye.

"I'm not saying that kid. Just be careful. Loki is.."

" I know Who Loki is. And was. But that is not who he is now." Her eyes narrowed and she kept her voice calm but firm.

"Kid. I just.." He spoke again.

"Mr Banner. I thank you for looking out for me. But please. I'm not a kid. I've not been a kid anymore for a while now. Y'all just see me like I am because I'm young. But I know what I'm doing with Loki. So please. Just stop." She stood from her chair and moved to walk past the scientist.

Loki himself stood in the hall. She met him with a kiss and they walked away arm in arm.

#sammy jo's stories #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #mcu loki

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers West Coast #51: I SING OF ARMS AND HEROES...

November, 1989

Guess who's BACK... and guess who aren't too sure they're HAPPY about it...

Well, Hank and Jan don't look too happy about it. Neither does US Agent. Lookit him frown, the gwumpy pumpkin. Wonder Man looks like he has dull surprise going on. I cannot fathom Robot Human Torch's expression. The man would do great at poker. Wanda looks like she's offended. That's a "how dare?!" expression if I've seen one. And Vision looks like he's staring directly at the sun and isn't sure why people keep screaming at him to stop.

So my guess is that Hank, Jan, John, and Wanda aren't happy about it and the others may or may not be happy about it.

They might have been more pleased to see Iron Man if he hadn't just flown through a perfectly good wall for no reason.

Last times in Avengers West Coast: Iron Man left the West Coast Avengers because of the Armor Wars arc in his own book. Wow, that was a while ago.

At the end of Armor Wars, Iron Man faked his own death by letting the government blow up an armor full of blood. When more Iron Manning was needed, Tony Stark just built a new suit and claimed he'd hired a new bodyguard/superhero.

And now, all these issues later, he's back to rejoin the Avengers because he's become more dependent on his armor due to stuff happening in his solo. He figures more time stuck in the armor, might as well be putting it to good use.

Also happening, Wanda has had the worst fucking period of her life (so far). Her husband got disassembled by the government, her teammates don't seem to care, her children keep blinking in and out of existence whenever she's not paying attention, evil bacteria shoved her full of goo until she became a mutant supremacist, the robot Human Torch came back to life to take the hottest robot on the team role from Vision. Just a lot going on!

I sure did talk about Wanda a lot in this issue featuring Iron Man.

Anyway.

Iron Man.

What a shiny guy he is.

Yeah. The Avengers (West Coast) aren't thrilled to see Iron Man.

Because: who even is this Iron Man?

US Agent John Walker is not privy to all the details of Iron Man's identity. But he does know that the original Iron Man was supposedly killed and a new guy took over.

Original Iron Man may have been a founder of the Avengers but New Iron Man is just Some Guy. Some Guy who can fuck off if he thinks he gets to swan in and get automatically put on the team.

Iron Man understands that he doesn't get any special consideration and says he's willing to go through whatever initiation process the Avengers consider necessary.

US Agent is a big company man so even though he's maybe the leader of the Avengers possibly? (he's done literally zero leading and nearly zero interacting with the team), he storms off to go call his handlers in Washington so they can tell him what to do.

With him gone, that just leaves Hank, Wasp, and Wonder Man who all know that Tony Stark is Iron Man. Or was. They know that at certain points, Tony Stark has been Iron Man.

(Way to just spill the beans in front of an Iron Man that you don't know whether he's Tony or not, guys)

So they ask Iron Man straight up if he's Tony.

For some reason that would probably make sense if I was reading Iron Man, Iron Man apologizes and says he can't say.

I do want to read olde Iron Man. One of these days, I want to dig into that backlog. He's one of the prominent Marvel characters I haven't read significant material from pre-2000.

Anyway.

On the other side of the compound, Scarlet Wanda and Vision.

Wanda is in a mood. Because she's been in a mood Byrne's whole run because shit keeps happening to her. Possibly goo related shit.

Vision: "It surprises me that you did not wish to stay for the meeting with Iron man, my wife. I am curious as to your reason..." Scarlet Witch: "Please, Vision... I know you're programmed to use words like 'surprised' and 'curious,' but I wish you wouldn't. It only emphasizes how much more robotic you've become." Vision: "My apologies, Wanda. It was my impression you wished me to sound as human as possible." Scarlet Witch: "Human? Why would I wish that, husband? Why would any mutant worthy of the name wish to associate herself with humans?" Vision: "And yet... you are a mutant, and for years, you have gladly associated with the Avengers -- most of whom are human." Scarlet Witch: "A passing weakness, Vision."

Okay. Seriously. Did nobody think to de-gooify her after that Absolom University adventure? Give her a medical check or anything?

I'm getting a little perturbed with how little a shit this era of the West Coast Avengers seem to give about each other.

Nobody noticed Tigra was going nuts. Nobody bothered to do anything as Wanda has clearly been emotionally spiraling. Wasp decides to help Wonder Man undermine Wanda's marriage.

You all suck.

Wanda is behaving like a jerk now but at least we know external factors contributed. The rest of you just suck.

Anyway, Wanda and Vision reach their quarters and find Agatha Harkness waiting for them there.

Hi, Agatha.

Are you the Agatha that does horrible shit to Wanda to teach her something or the Agatha that's helpful without being traumatizing?

I feel like Wanda is a couple pieces of straw from just breaking so maybe considering the latter approach today.

Also, maybe consider calling ahead.

The last time Wanda and Vision saw Agatha, in the second Vision and the Scarlet Witch series, Agatha was burned at the stake.

She tells them that being burned at the stake sucked but that's not what she's here to talk about.

She's here to talk about Wanda's kids.

Wanda's weirdo kids. To talk about them and to understand what precisely they are.

Scarlet Witch: "They are only children. Normal in every way!" Agatha Harkness: "Normal, Wanda? With a mother who is a mutant and a father who is a synthezoid?"

Rude.

Agatha tells Wanda that her kids are far from normal and if she hadn't been busy resurrecting herself, she would have been here sooner.

Agatha Harkness: "But you already know yourself, that when you are not thinking about them... they disappear!"

Vision asks if that's true but Wanda denies it. BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY AS A GOOD MOM SHE IS ALWAYS THINKING OF HER KIDS AT ALL TIMES 100%.

Agatha pulls the nuh uh on this. There have been recent times where she was too distracted in battle or knocked unconscious where obviously she wasn't thinking about her kids. And wee baby Thomas and William just cease to exist during those times.

Remember those times? All those times they disappeared, freaking out the governesses? Who tried to report it to Wanda and got fired for it?

Wanda refuses to listen to this. Literally putting her hands over her ears and shouting she won't hear it.

Eesh.

Agatha tells Vision that Wanda will need his strength and love more than ever and oof is she behind the times. The government took away his capacity to love! Bad timing!

Elsewhere, up in the sky, a bird, a comet, a (robot) human torch!

Jim Hammond took off when the Avengers grouped up to meet with Iron Man. He took the time to fly over the countryside for about a half hour, just get an idea of how much things have changed.

And he's amazed! To him, it looks like 400 years have passed instead of just 40.

He lands back at the Avengers West Coast Compound and lands right into some drama without even trying.

Ann Raymond saw him being all human torchy and mistakes him for Toro. And when she realizes he's Jim Hammond instead, she, of course, gets upset because for an instant she let her hopes get up and now she's been reconfronted with the fact that her husband died in an entirely stupid and unnecessary way.

And now Jim knows Toro's dead too and is also emotionally staggered by the news.

Also: demons.

Flaming fireballs! Demons!!

Robot Human Torch gets immediately slapped into the pool. A sad casualty of being the first one the demons run into.

But Ann screaming alerted the other Avengers and they assemble and start walloping demons.

Hank Pym suggests that if a bunch of demons suddenly show up to the Avengers West Coast Compound, why there's only possible explanation.

Iron Man: "You mean it's MASTER PANDEMONIUM?? But the last we saw of him, he was being swept away by the river of oblivion... deep in the realm of Mephisto!"

Hank Pym makes a mental note of Iron Man knowing about the Avengers' last encounter with Master Pandemonium. Because Tony Stark Iron Man was on the team at the time. So is this Tony or did Tony just brief New Iron Man on all his Avengers' cases?

I don't know why Tony isn't telling the Avengers he's him so I don't know how tense it should be that Hank is piecing things together.

Anyway!

US Agent comes out to yell at the commotion and he's not really alarmed by a sudden invasion of demons. It does make him punchy so he starts punching.

Robot Human Torch pulls himself out of the pool. He's soaking wet but all he has to do is FLAME ON! to boil the water away.

Then he can "show these demonic delinquents how we used to deal with their kind back in the 50's!"

Did... you deal with a lot of demons in the 50's specifically?

Wasp takes note that the demons don't seem to be after anything and aren't really trying that hard to kill the Avengers. So why are they here?

Whoops, they're a distraction.

While the Avengers are outside fighting the demons, Master Pandemonium busts into Wanda and Vision's quarters right when Wanda is about to have a nervous breakdown over everything that's happened to her over the past few weeks.

Agatha Harkness tries to ward off the demons with her witchcraft but Master Pandemonium tries belches hellfire in her face.

Gross.

Vision tries to do the intangible fisting thing he does which either works great or doesn't work at all.

Whoops, this is one of the times it doesn't work at all.

Master Pandmemonium just blasts out demons from his arms to overwhelm Vision.

Leaving only Wanda to face him, as she boasts that nothing can withstand her hex power.

Although she seems to fend him off and force him to retreat, she doesn't notice until he's gone that one of his demons snuck behind her and yoinked the children.

He drags the poor, probably innocent tots down to probably Hell.

What does he want from them?

Well, first, he wants a captive audience to recap his entire backstory.

Villains gonna villain.

He was an actor man who drunk drove himself into a bad car crash that cost him his arm. As a big Hollywood type in the 80s, he was big into the occult?? Apparently? So he called upon dark powers, promising his soul for his arm back.

Mephisto was bored and decided this would be funny so he replaced the guy's arm with demons. And then he replaced all his limbs with demons.

Mephisto's sense of humor is beyond me.

He didn't want the guy's soul so he ripped it out, broke it into five pieces, and scattered them around.

Master Pandemonium has been searching for them since, trying to become whole.

He found one with the Cat Demon People of Tigra's origin. But whatever Englehart was planning for this dude, he didn't get around to. Guy got one soul piece back and then dropped out of the plot.

So Byrne is bringing back that plot thread.

Master Pandeominum declares to these two stupid children who don't understand any of this that kidnapping them will allow him to replace his missing 4/5ths of a soul much more efficiently than all his aimless searching up until now.

Now, I know where this is going already. It is renowned, infamously.

But try to make your best guesses before I get to the end of the issue. See how close you get.

Anyway.

In the pressing urgency of some innocent children being kidnapped... the Avengers all sit down to discuss classic sitcoms.

That's a fair response, to be honest.

But here's how the conversation unfolds.

Instead of leaping into action, the Avengers sit around and quiz Agatha on how she's alive again. Even though she keeps telling them it was fucking magic and it's not going to make sense to their science brains.

Wonder Man chimes in that HE's seen Bewitched so he can vouch for Agatha's point.

So Wanda starts yelling at him for talking about television when her children are kidnapped.

Wasp tells Wanda to settle down. Clearly they're treating this with all due urgency! Since, y'know, maybe her kids are fake as shit. Maybe they've just stopped existing again like all the governesses said.

And that's when Wanda does her a slap.

Granted, her mutant supremacy is not called for but, yeah, the Avengers are all a bunch of jerks now who can't muster a bit of urgency when a demon man kidnaps some children.

Wasp isn't even hurt because of her small size. But she is concerned that Wanda said that thing the way she did about humans.

Anyone else concerned? Nobody else reacting? Okay.

Wanda begs Agatha to help her follow Master Pandemonium.

I'm surprised we didn't start with that but I've already made clear how I feel about how the team is reacting to this.

Master Pandemonium tried to hide his path but Agatha took precautions when he first arrived so she can trace him. But Wanda can't do it alone! So... will the Avengers step up to action when a witch very lightly implies that they should?

Yes. They finally get their asses in gear and jump through the swirling magic portal.

Even US Agent agrees that where Wanda goes, the Avengers go too. Which is a big team player moment from the guy who doesn't seem to realize he's leading a superhero team.

Watching from the time Limbo that isn't the demonic Limbo or the game Limbo, Immortus freaks the fuck out.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go for his vague yet menacing plan!

And he can't do anything to alter the flow of events because, I dunno, he can't touch demonic realms. So if anything happens to Wanda, he won't be able to protect her!

Dun dun dun??

I wonder what his vague yet menacing evil plan needs Wanda for?

Back at the Avengers, Hank Pym asks Jim Hammond Human Torch to stay behind to watch the Compound.

So despite making a big deal about him joining the team last issue, with WANDA BRINGING HIM BACK FROM THE DEAD, he gets to sit on his ass for the rest of this story.

What a weird writing decision.

Byrne is all over the place with all the subplots he's juggling for this book and a lot of them just get backburnered hard.

Iron Man gets to go. And he hasn't even officially (re)joined the Avengers at this point. They don't even know if they can trust him because he won't admit to being Tony Stark to his closest friends, for some reason.

The Avengers and Iron Man arrive in a seemingly peaceful fairy tale glade but Agatha's floating head warns them not to trust it.

And the very scenery attacks them a few panels later so. Yeah. Floating Head Agatha called it.

In the distance, past all the killer foliage, Wasp spots a building made of twisted agony.

The Avengers fight their way through the angry vegetation and Scarlet Witch blows open the twisted agony fortress front door with her probability manipulation.

But they find that Master Pandemonium is ready for them. Waiting for them.

And he's done the dumbest thing possible.

He's attached Billy and Tommy to his arms so now he has literal baby hands.

It's horrifying.

It's also the dumbest thing possible.

He's so proud of himself for thinking of this.

Was this where you would have guessed him kidnapping some babies was going to go?

Also, jamming babies onto his arms seems to have filled in two points on the star shaped hole in his tum tum.

I used to like what a silly concept Master Pandemonium's entire deal was. But he's ruined it by going even dumber.

For shame, everything that went into making, publishing, and printing this comic book. For shame. You took a perfectly goofy villain and you ruined him.

Follow @essential-avengers and maybe like or reblog. I appreciate being appreciated.

#avengers #essential avengers #west coast avengers #Master Pandemonium #US Agent #Wonder Man #the Wasp #hank pym #dr pym #Scarlet Witch #the Vision #robot Human Torch #Iron Man #Agatha Harkness #Immortus #for some damn reason #this ends on a really dumb note

[flowersarefreetherapy]

Begging

For @whumpawoman’s Whump Girl Summer: Day 4, Begging

CW: Degrading language, dehumanization, begging, BBU typical violence, threats of violence

“You know better than to speak like that,” Handler Ava snaps. 

“I’m sorry,” 327 whispers, staring hard at the tiled floor under her. “I’m sorry, I-I am sorry, I’m sorry, I-“

“If you want to keep those hands of yours, I suggest you shut your mouth.”

327 clamps her mouth shut. It’s been a long time since the handlers have threatened her hands. She’s being good, talented, smart, picking up on the language like they want her to. They can’t hurt her hands. She’ll lose her skill. She’ll stop being good. 

“Better.” Handler Ava grabs her hair and forces her head back. 327 swallows back a whimper of pain. “But not good enough. I think you can handle a few broken fingers. You don’t need your pinkie that badly, do you?”

“No, no, no, please!” 327 panics, shaking her head. Hair tears from her scalp and tears burn her eyes. The pounding of her heart is all she hears as her handler laughs. “Please, please don’t! I’ll be good! I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was a stupid pet, I shouldn’t have said that!”

“And what did you say?”

She shakes her head. No, she knows this game. She can’t say it again. If she does–is she speaks the words they are trained to avoid at all costs–then she’ll be hurt and her handler will be mad and it isn’t good!

Just like you. Such a bad pet. You know you aren’t supposed to say that.

“What did you say?” Handler Ava snarls, tightening her grip. 327 flinches. “What did you say? Answer me!”

“No!” 327 shouts. Tears stream down her face. “I-I said-I said no! I said no and that was stupid! I’m a stupid pet! I don’t say no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“And why don’t you say no?”

“Because I-I exist only to serve my master! My body and my wants are not-not my own! I exist only to serve my master!”

Handler Ava slaps her. The warm taste of copper fills her mouth, her cheek throbbing from the blow. It’s going to leave a bruise. Just another one to add to her already battered and tired body. She wants to crawl into a corner and cry. 

“Stop crying. I wanted to hear you admit your mistake, not blab on about how stupid you are.”

“Sorry,” 327 whispers. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Shut up, 327. No one cares what you have to say.” 

327 closes her mouth and nods. No one cares. Her hands are what are valuable. Her knowledge of the language is valuable. No one cares about her. All she is is a vessel. Something for the message to pass through. Like a wire, a transmission, a way for information to pass through without involving her. 

You aren’t important. The message is important. 

“No one cares what I have to say,” she repeats. “The message is what is important.”

“You are not important.” 

“I am not important,” she whispers. 

“Good pet.” Handler Ava steps back and rubs her hair. “You’re learning. Slowly, but you’re learning. Doing better than before, 327, which is good.”

“Thank you, handler.” 

#waw2023 #whumpgirlsummer #begging #day 4 #jenna my love #dehumanization #degrading language #threats of violence #bbu #bbu universe #pet whump #it's short; but inspiration was not my friend today