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#i think this is too short to be writing tagged
tame-the-lion-writes · 10 hours
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For the dog shifter au do you think reader would get the boys those buttons where the dogs can press on them to talk? I think that would be so funny lol. I love your writing!!
Answering so you can find it lol--this AU has gotten so much content that it can be hard to find things even with the tag
Here's a link to a past ask! Reader does, in fact, get them one of those button boards where they can tap it to talk. Here's some more detail on that, though--
At first you get them the basic buttons for requests like food, water, time to go to the park, etc. Then you have to upgrade to something that has the whole alphabet, because for whatever reason, these weird ahh dogs know how to spell.
You once added curse words for fun--then quickly regretted it. Soap started cursing like a sailor, and Ghost started cursing back.
Gaz is pretty wholesome with how he uses it, though. He likes to press the buttons that say "good morning" and whatnot. Once you accept the fact that he can spell, too, he even goes so far as to compliment you with short works or acronyms. Ex: QT (cutie)
Sometimes, Price will use the buttons, but never for himself. More like when Ghost is too stubborn to make a request, so it's Price asking for a collective walk to the park, or an outing.
It's also extremely helpful when you need to let them out to go to the bathroom, because they insist on never doing that in your presence. (And number two is reserved for when you're away--for obvious reasons--but you don't know that).
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emilys-bangs · 1 day
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lethargic | emily prentiss x reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, stubborn (and sleepy) reader, use of petnames, no use of yn
Summary: anon prompt - R is a wee bit sleep deprived-- perhaps they're working hard on a case, and Em just drags them off to go cuddle and sleep
Word count: 1k
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The cold air is a sharp contrast to Emily’s steaming skin as she walks out of the bathroom. Her skimpy attire of a cotton camisole and short shorts hardly defends against the cold; goosebumps rise on her bare arms, a small shiver going through her as she shuts the bathroom door behind her and glances around her room. 
You’re not on the bed like she expected you to be. Emily frowns.
“Babe?” She calls out as she leaves the room, padding into the hallway where the lights are still on.
“Here,” you answer, your voice audibly distracted. And a fair bit drowsy, too.
Emily’s bare feet are silent on the floor as she follows the sound of your voice, finally finding you when she walks into the living room. You’re on the couch, bent over the open files on the coffee table.
“Hey,” she frowns, “what are you doing? It’s late.”
You tiredly rub your eye. “Jus’ wanted to finish this,” you mumble, not looking up at her as your pen flies across the page. Emily walks over to the couch and peers down into the file, frowning deeper when she finds a half-finished report for the case you just came back from an hour ago.
She’s surprised, but she honestly shouldn’t be. Your work ethic is intense and—to her—ridiculous at times, so situations like these are not uncommon every once in a while.
“It’s not the time for that, hon.” She bends to kiss your temple, placing her hand on top of yours and gently stalling your writing. Her wet hair drapes over your head, skimming your cheek, “With me, c’mon.” She murmurs into your skin.
You shake your head. “Wanna do it while it’s still fresh.” The words twist around a yawn you try—in vain—to conceal.
Emily’s lips leave your forehead as she looks down at you. She gently hooks her finger under your chin and tilts your face up, stifling a smile when you blink at her with drowsy, half-lidded eyes.
“I hardly think it’s fresh when you can barely see ten paces in front of you. C’mon, chérie, did you body-swap with Hotch or something? Up.” She pulls the pen from your fingers and tosses it somewhere on the floor. You frown and Emily ignores it, wrapping both hands around your own and forcefully tugging you up.
You resist, but she digs her heels into the floor and pulls harder, forcing you to stumble up from the couch. She steadies you when you half-crash into her. 
“Emily, I need’ta finish it,” you protest as she links her fingers through yours.
“You will finish it,” she drags you to the bedroom, not even bothering to turn off the living room lights, “tomorrow. Now we need to sleep. God knows we’ve been awake long enough.” Her words escape in a low mutter. The case was long and tiring; all her weary bones want to do is sink into your embrace, curl around you so tight she can’t tell where she ends and you begin. Instead you’re doing paperwork. 
Paperwork that can very much wait until tomorrow.
Emily drags you into the room and very firmly shuts the door. You’re grumbling under your breath so she turns, drops your hand, and surges forward to wrap her arms around your neck.
“Cuddle me,” she demands.
A low chuckle tickles the skin of her neck. Emily stifles the urge to shiver as you hold her back, tightly despite your reluctance.
“So demanding,” you yawn, your face falling into her collarbone. Your lashes flutter against her skin; you sink into her, your chest brushing hers, and she doesn’t know who’s holding who up.
“And you’re so stubborn.” She returns, tilting her head to catch your lips with hers. You sigh into the kiss, your fingers digging into the warm skin of her midriff. The soft cotton of her camisole scrapes against your harsh work button-down. “I don’t think even Hotch has his own report done.” She mumbles against your lips. 
“Please,” you scoff, “he writes them on the plane.”
“Well, he’s Unit Chief. You’re,”—kiss—“not.” Emily’s lips trace yours. Another kiss goes to the corner of your mouth, “And thank fuck for that.”
You hum, the vibrations of it traveling from your mouth to hers. “’M so tired.” The confession comes out slurred, adorably so. 
Emily bites back a smile. 
“Are you?” She brushes the hair away from your sleepy eyes. “I hadn’t noticed. Sit down.” She nudges you backward in the direction of the bed, dropping a soft kiss on your lips, “I’ll get you your pjs.”
Thankfully, you don’t protest. Not even when she starts unbuttoning your shirt and not when she helps you wriggle into your pajamas. When you slide beneath the sheets with no complaints, Emily lets out a low sigh, both relieved and content as she nestles right into your arms.
The slip of the cold sheets is soothing on her bare skin. She hooks a leg over your hip, sliding her hand into your hair when you nuzzle into her neck. Her finger lazily twists around a lock of hair.
“You smell nice,” you say, your voice muffled and drowsy.
Emily smiles at the compliment. “Just showered. Like you should’ve been doing.”
“Hmm. T’morrow,” you mumble.
“Tomorrow.” she kisses your forehead. Once, then twice, for good measure. “Goodnight, chérie.”
“Love you.” You whisper.
“Love you back.”
As you curl into her, your hand slipping under her camisole to rest on her skin and your lashes gently fluttering closed against her jaw, both Emily’s wishes are fulfilled. She stays awake only a little longer than you do, taking a few brief minutes to soak in the warmth of your body against hers. A few more ghostly kisses to your forehead, a twirl or two of your hair around her index finger, and soon after that she’s tumbling into the swift darkness of sleep.
taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism
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monimccoythings · 3 days
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The Beast Within
Sooo I was trying to write a feral!Logan but this oneshot crossed my mind and I just went along with it. I'll write the feral!logan I want to write when I finish the Wolverine's 1988 run. I think I remember mentioning back in my Retired!Logan headcanons that shall danger come for his family he would be ready and waiting. I wanted to dwell on that.
Summary: You awake only to find yourself and your daughters tied up by some unknown men that wnat to roleplay their wildest and scariest fantasies. Your only hope to survive lies on your husband; a man that gang would soon know they shouldn't have messed with.
Word count: 3087
tags: slight feral!logan, a bit of horror, gn!reader, happy ending, Logan loves his family and will kill for them. A bit ooc Wolverine.
tw: blood, death, attempted rape, non-con elements, kidnapping, swear words.
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It had all happened so quickly. One moment you were entering your home with your daughters in tow, and the next, you were being knocked out by some masked men.
When you opened your eyes, you found yourself unable to move, having been tied to a chair, the cords against your wrists and ankles cutting into your blood flow. Yet you didn't fear for your life.
Desperately you looked around for Laura and your youngest child. Silently praying those assholes hadn't reached them. You nearly bursted into tears when you saw Laura tied to the couch, still knocked out like a light, but fine nevertheless; but that relief was short lived when you saw one of the men holding your youngest in his arms.
"Well, look who's finally up! I'm so glad you could join us."
You mentally counted them, There were about five burly men. All masked, to conceal their identities. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw they were all armed.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Your mind went overdrive with the amount of possibilities. Where they from an anti mutant group? Have you been found out?? Logan had made sure your tracks were covered so nobody would know who and what he and the children were. Where they robbers, then?
"Hmm why would people do what they do?" The supposed leader of the group dramatically pondered. "Us humans always worry about norms, etiquette, social behavior, we repress ourselves..." you let the man rant about how our real animal natures were suppressed by society, you didn't care too much for that, too busy finding different ways to free yourself and save your kids.
"So, to answer your question. We do this for fun. Because we can. Because we aren't afraid to show who we really are." You felt the blood in your veins freeze when you felt the disgusting hand come near your crotch. These people were insane. If they were just robbers, you could just let them take whatever they wanted and wait until they left. Material things could be replaced, but his words implied something much much worse for you.
"Please, just take what you want and leave!" You knew you had to do something, anything just to keep those men away from your babies, just buy enough time for Logan to-
Logan! Yes, he would sense something was wrong, and come for you all! You just-
The man licked a long streak from your collarbone to your cheek, his hungry depraved eyes mirroring those of his accomplices.
"Oh, we are going to take it indeed." He licked his lips in anticipation, his fingers lazily undoing the buttons of your shirt. You felt the cold air in your exposed skin.
"Listen. My husband will come soon. You need to leave now that you can-"
He forcefully grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his empty cold eyes. You didn't find any source of empathy or humanity there. His free hand started to unbutton your jeans.
"Then, he can watch."
The lights went out after that, startling the man and his crew. Some let out a few curses.
"Shut the fuck up! It's just the fucking lights!" The man bellowed towards the rest of the group. He signaled with his head towards the most dimwitted looking member. "Beta! Go check the fuse box!"
The man obediently complied with his orders. The fact that you could barely see, didn't do well for your nerves. They could strike any moment.
Minutes passed and the dude nicknamed 'Beta' hadn't returned. Which was weird, because the fusebox was in a small broom closet at the other end of the cabin, and the cabin wasn't really Charles Xavier's Mansion. You could tell that the man giving the orders was already starting to lose his patience.
"Dumb fuck, can't do shit by himself..." He mumbled. "Gamma! Go tell that stupid bitch to hurry the fuck up!" He turned towards you a terrifying smile on his face "I just can't wait to see the look in your eyes when we break you and the kids."
That was enough for you to lunge towards him, parental instincts activating like crazy. Unfortunately there was little you could do with your limited mobility. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled painfully, you felt tears burning at the corner of your eyes but you refused to give him the pleasure of watching you cry.
"Listen here you little slut. Only I get to bite, only I get to kick, and when I'm done with you l, you'll be-"
"Alpha, he ain't here!" 'Gamma''s voice could be heard from the hall. That only fueled 'Alpha's' impatience.
"I ask him a simple task and he fucking gets lost! Look better or none of you are having a piece of this whore!!"
His eyes turned back to yours. A hungry, wicked look crossed them. His mouth went towards your neck, as much as you tried to resist you couldn't pull away from his strong hold in your hair. You let out a scream when he bit you, praying that he hadn't bitten hard enough to draw blood, but that only seemed to encourage him, just as his tongues was lapping at the bruising bitemark you heard someone scream from the end of the hall.
"OH FUCKING SHIT!!"
*bang*
*bang*
And then nothing. That seemed to alert the group, the leader, Alpha, immediately pulling away and releasing you from his vice grip.
"The fuck was that!?" He commanded "Beta! Gamma! Answer now!"
No answer.
With your heart in your throat you quickly took deep breaths, trying to recover a sense of calmness and normalcy that you knew was long lost. But you had to. Your kids were still unconscious you needed to protect them.
"Sigma. Get out and secure the perimeter."
'Sigma' didn't look very convinced but as long as he released your little baby girl everything would be fine. You could practically feel the hesitation in him as he lowered your daughter onto the nearest armchair and quietly exited the living room, gun in hand.
"Whatever the fuck is trying to screw with us, is going to learn this 'pack' doesn't go down easily."
Minutes passed of eery silence, each minute felt like agonizing hours. You thought it would never end until you heard a blood curling scream followed by the sound of glass breaking and something splattering against the walls.
That's when you heard it. An animalistic snarl. It was faint, but it was definitely there and filled your heart with hope like no other. This time you were surely going to cry from joy.
He had arrived.
You were saved.
Tears fell freely down your cheeks, you couldn't help the broad smile that formed in your features.
"Oh God he's here. He's here..." You repeated over and over like a mantra, as if you couldn't quite believe it.
"The fuck is this bitch talking about??" He backhanded you so roughly that you thought you saw stars, the sharp pain in your cheek was nothing compared to the huge relief you were feeling.
'Alpha' turned towards the last remaining member of his 'pack'. "What are you waiting for, dumbass?? Lock the fucking doors!"
The other guy didn't move for a few seconds, obviously scared at this dramatic turn of events. The tension between him and the leader was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You were sure he was wondering why he should risk his life for a plan that was going awry with each passing second. Maybe he was also considering shooting down 'Alpha' and be done with it.
Before he has time to live up that fantasy, he found himself looking straight at the end of 'Alpha's' Magnum. This was no longer a fun game for them. It had stopped being a game when 'Beta' hadn't returned.
"Lock. The fucking. Doors." 'Alpha's' voice was unusually quiet and full of promises of a world of pain if he disobeyed his orders. There was no other choice but to follow his lead, as always.
With trembling hands, the poor guy put the safety lock as best as he could. Once done, he breathed a sigh of relief, believing him safe.
Until a massive arm, broke through the glass of the door and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him a couple of inches off the ground. The man kicked and struggled, trying in vain to reach for his gun. When the hand released him, he hurriedly went for it before he was grabbed again but was stopped by three metal claws piercing through his skull, killing him instantly. The man fell to the ground like a ragdoll.
"Shit." 'Alpha' whispered, feeling for the first time that night true fear. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" His panic grew as he saw the killer of his 'packmate' kick the doors open as if it was nothing.
You couldn't see him, but you knew he was pissed like he had never been before.
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*
'Alpha' fired bullet after bullet towards him. A single shot would have taken down a grown man. But this wasn't a normal man. Oh no, they had just gone after the family of one of the most dangerous men to ever live.
Logan slowly stepped into the moonlight and your breath caught in your throat. From his beard, to his clothes, blood was dripping, but not from the gunshotwounds, those were already healed. His sharp teeth, bared in a feral snarl were stained with blood, having used them to tear through flesh and bone. The icing on the cake were his eyes, those eyes that looked at you with so much tenderness and lust, that crinkled with happiness when they saw his little ones run towards him; they were just empty, void of any rational thought.
You shuddered at his primal display.
The man known just as 'Alpha' took a step back. For all his talk about how he didn't repress from his animal urges and how he was an alpha male, he found himself small and insignificant in the presence of a real animal. Every adamantium coated bone in Logan's body exuded dominance, power, strength; it was overwhelming. 'Alpha' knew if he didn't play his cards well he would end up like the rest of his 'pack' or worse.
Cold sweat formed on your forehead when the gun pointed towards you.
"One more step, and I'll shoot." His voice was deadly quiet, but you could hear the fear hidden behind all that bravado.
Logan stopped, a low growl building up in his throat. His eyes quickly darted towards yours and returned towards his enemy. You knew you had little time, as long as the 'Alpha' kept his eyes locked on Logan's; he wouldn't dare shoot you unless he wanted to have the slowest and most painful death there was, he just needed to think for a better plan of action, which gave you a wonderful opportunity to ponder about how you were going to get out safely, you had to act fast enough to give Logan some margin.
As quiet as you could muster, you started balancing yourself from side to side. Each second that passed increased your chances of ending up with a hole in your chest. A couple of swings more and-
"AAAAAAAAARRRGGGGHHH"
'Alpha' roared in pain when Laura out of nowhere, sunk her teeth and bone claws on his leg. Unfortunately, as a reflex, he accidentally pressed the trigger.
You would never be sure about how you got so lucky that night, as you fell sideways with the chair, the bullet barely grazed your shoulder. You had evaded death miraculously and there was a new hole in the wall.
Logan didn't waste his opportunity. Before 'Alpha' had the chance to kick Laura off his leg, he freed his claws and with a swift motion slashed his yugular vein with two clean cuts.
The blood splattered on his chest and face like a fountain. Alpha's body went limp and fell lifeless to the side. You let out a sigh in relief, as tears ran again freely down your cheeks.
The nightmare was over.
But not for Logan.
For a couple of seconds, he just stood there, breathing heavily, and coated in blood. Laura stood at his feet, looking at him apprehensively, as if sensing there was something wrong.
"Logan." You called for him reassuringly, but he didn't even look at you. You doubted he had heard you. His fists were clenching and unclenching, his knuckles were turning white. The veins in his arms bulged against the swollen muscles. His breaths came out in short puffs of air. Whatever he was feeling right now, you needed to pull him out of it.
His head turned sharply when he heard your youngest stirring. He looked at his bloodied hands and finally looked at you with a mixture of panic and dread. He didn't know what to do.
"Laura. Laura, sweetheart, untie me." She snapped out from her stupor and quickly tore through the cords, freeing you at last. You massaged your wrists, hoping to return your bloodflow back to normal. As much as you'd have loved to rest there was no time to lose.
You understood Logan's fear. It was already painful enough for him to have Laura watching him when he was like that, he didn't want the other one to go through the same trauma.
You quickly rushed towads him and he flinched back, still in shock. "It is okay, Logan. We're safe. You saved us. I'm going to take the girls to her room okay? He barely nodded, his eyes unfocused. You would deal with him later, now the kids were a top priority.
You would heal together, later.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
He had scrubbed the floors clean until he thought he was going to pass out from the chemicals. He had hidden the bodies or whatever remained of them in a place where he knew nobody would ever look for them. Not that they'd be missed, he supposed.
It scared him how good he was at this. He should have gotten used to it by now, after all, he was the best at what he did, and what he did wasn't very nice.
It had been to good to be true. A sweet dream before waking up and facing reality. He had gotten sloppy and his family had paid the price. He didn't even know what those had wanted, nor did he care. One single look through the window and all sense of rationality had left his brain leaving only the animal that deep down he knew he was.
What would you think of him now? Did you regret marrying him? Knowing what he did was one thing, but actually witnessing it was another. What had transpired tonight would surely define your relationship for the rest of your lives
And Laura? He had worked so hard to erase the violence and trauma of her earlier years, to give her a normal childhood with a family. And he had just pulled her back.
He buried his face in his hands, grabbing chunks of his hair. He was a monster, an animal, a mindless-
He jumped and turned around with a snarl on his face and his claws ready when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Logan's tense muscles visibly relaxed when he saw it was just you, but he was still restless.
"Logan, it's okay. It's just me" You knew exactly was was crossing his mind. After years of knowing each other, you knew that the legendary Wolverine, the man that would take his secrets to his grave, could be easily read like an open book if you got close enough.
"Honey, this is not your fault. You came and saved us. We're here because of you." You couldn't bear the thought of him punishing himself over something that wasn't even his fault to begin with.
"I should have been there with you. I should have arrived sooner, then you wouldn't have to go through-" His gruff voice sounded so broken, so terrified, there was nothing you wanted more than to cradle him in your arms. "I'm a monster." He quietly whispered.
"You are not a monster. You. Are. Not. Not a monster, neither an animal." You cupped his face in your hands, looking into his eyes sternly.
"I-I lost control. I saw you there tied up and I lost it. Laura saw it, and our little-"
"Shhhh... They are alright. They are okay in their bedroom. Laura knew you were protecting us, she has always known." You ran your fingers through his wild hair, marvelling at how his tufts stayed up no matter the situation.
You gently guide him back into the house. You don't look at the toppled chair, or the hole in the wall, or the mountain of cleaning products. Neither of you wanted to think about that. When you reached the bedroom, you undressed each other, taking your time, memorizing every string of clothing. Your discarded attires formed a dirty and bloody pile in the corner.
Tenderly, like treating a very vulnerable creature, you cleaned his face, chest and hands with a towel. You could feel the raw power stored in that massive torso and hands, you knew what he could do with those. But you also knew how careful and soft he was around you and the girls.
You put on your comfiest pijamas and got ready for bed, leaving the mess of that night for the next day. Before he climbed in with you, Logan stopped and takes a step back.
"What's wrong?" You asked.
"Wait here." He hurriedly exited your bedroom, leaving you alone, baffled at his behavior. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone after that night.
Your initial confusion gave way to tenderness when you saw him return holding a daugther on each of his thick arms. Laura blinked groggily at you, annoyed at having been woken up from her slumber. You quickly craddled her in your arms, kissing her forehead.
Holding your youngest baby girl to his chest he got in bed, his free arm pulling you and Laura closer, trapping you in an embrace. He kissed your head, his soft breaths along with those of your daughters were enough to lull you to sleep.
You were safe.
Nobody was going to get you.
He would make sure of that.
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ghostsangel · 9 hours
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Can you please write a meet cute with Konig. His dog (who is big like his owner) got off the leash and tackles the poor girl just trying to enjoy her lunch. He is so embarrassed.
this is fuckin’ adorable and also this is just a short lil drabble<3
könig x fem!reader
tags/warnings: none really, this is legit fluff
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The sun shines down on your back as you sit on a blanket in the park. You had decided to have a nice, relaxing lunch today by yourself after a hectic work week, and thought the park would be a perfect place—it’s sunny, chilly enough to wear a sweater, and you get to people watch.
You take a bite of your sandwich, eyes glancing around at the people in the park. Time like these sort of depress you—you wish you could be having lunch with a partner. But you’re single as fuck.
Then, of course, your picnic is ruined when a gigantic Cane Corso tackles you out of nowhere.
You shriek, more out of surprise than fear. Your sandwich flies out of your hands and lands somewhere behind you, and you don’t have time to react as the dog starts licking your face.
You giggle, squeezing your eyes shut as the dog licks you, gently pushing him back with your hands.
“Fluffy, ferse!”
The dog is suddenly off of you, and you blink as you sit up. Your eyes land on a behemoth of a man—at least 6’5”, and his very, very large dog. Fluffy. The man’s face is scarlet, and he bends down next to you.
“I am so sorry,” he apologizes in accented English. “He normally does not do that. Are you okay?”
You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, too busy admiring the man’s face and the way his thick fingers rest on your shoulder. Your face flushes, and you nod.
“I’m fine!” You say, smiling at the man. “Just surprised is all.”
The man nods, eyes flicking to his dog. “Fluffy is well-trained. I think he smelled your food and got excited.”
You laugh, reaching out to pet Fluffy. “It’s no biggie. Well…” You turn your head, noticing your destroyed sandwich. “Uh, it’s fine. I can just go grab something to eat.”
The man stands up, offering you a hand. You take it, and even standing, you have to crane your neck to look up at him.
“No, please. Let me buy you something. It is the least I can do after what happened.” He smiles shyly at you, his hand scratching at the back of his head.
You hesitate a moment before nodding, trying to ignore the way his smile sets butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “That sounds nice…?”
“König,” he states, reaching out his hand.
You take it, ignoring the little electric jolt you get as you slide your palm against his. “Nice to meet you, König. I’m Y/N.”
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coquitokisses · 2 days
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Heyy! Idk if you ever wrote something like this and if you don’t want to it’s fine but I had been obsessed with this idea of Steve dating a Taylor swift level of famous artist. And like they were keeping their relationship private from everyone until some paparazzi caught them together somewhere and the internet goes crazy with “miss americana and the america's golden boy” (iykyk)
Miss Americana and America's Golden Boy | Steve Rogers
Pairings: Steve Rogers x singer!female reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, fluff and fluff lol
Word count: 568 (kinda short lol)
Summary: Reader and Steve have been dating for a few months now but for obvious reasons, they made the relationship public just yet because of their jobs. But those plans go to hell when some paparazzis get pictures of you and Steve.
A/n: hiii love! First of all, thank you so much for sending this and second, sorry I took so long to answer it, I had no idea how or what to write lmao but I finally took the time to think about something and just do it! I’m still not very convinced, but I think it’s kinda cute so here it is! (hope I was able to bring your idea to life lol <3 )
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« The internet goes crazy after seeing pictures of Y/N Y/L/N with none other than Captain America walking out of a cafe! »
« America’s golden boy, Steve Rogers, spotted leaving a coffee shop in New York with the singer Y/N Y/L/N yesterday morning. »
« Captain America is no longer single and neither is our beloved Y/N Y/L/N! Both have been spotted walking out of a coffee shop in New York holding hands! »
“You’re fucking joking.” You stared at your phone shocked, you just wanted to scream
“You need to calm down.” Steve said
“Calm down?!” You turned to look at him “We’re everywhere! Everyone is talking about us!”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Are you aware of this? We’re two very recognized persons, do you know what people are gonna be saying?” You sat on the bed feeling very overwhelmed
Now on every event and everywhere you go the questions that everyone’s gonna be asking are about your relationship with Mr. Captain America.
“You have a lot of fans, they’re just gonna hate me.” You sighed
“Says the girl who’s been in the eye of fame for a decade.” He tilted his head slightly “If they’re gonna hate someone, is probably gonna be me.”
“Are you kidding? You’re America’s hero! Everybody loves you, babe.”
“And you’re one of the most listened and talented artists in the world, people love you too.” He said sitting next to you “And besides, I think it was time to tell the world, everyone at the compound was starting to get suspicious.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little because you knew that it was true, he has told you millions of times how Bucky or Natasha, even Tony, were questioning him about where he was at or why he always sneaked out and came back late at night.
“Yeah, it was probably time.” You looked at him and he just gave you a sweet little smile that made you feel a little better
You really couldn’t believe that you were dating the Captain America, it was absolutely crazy to even think about it. And he also couldn’t believe that he was dating you. One of the most recognized singers in the whole world.
You met at one of Tony’s parties about a year ago and you had such a blast that night that you exchanged numbers and started talking. Obviously you both wanted to keep the relationship private because of your jobs. Of course you were planning on making it public, but just, not now and not like this.
“It’s just that it was nice to have you all to myself.” You say with a shrug
He smiled. “You still have me all to yourself.”
“But now the world knows and it’s not gonna be the same.” You pouted
“Yeah, I know, honey.” He put your hair behind your ear
“Are you sure you still want to date a singer? The fans can be a little crazy about who I date.. sorry about that.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I’m very sure.” He nodded
“Ready to start answering questions about us everywhere you go?”
“Are you?” He cocked an eyebrow at you
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m so ready to brag about being Mr. America’s girlfriend.” You replied and he smiled
“So let’s do this, miss America.” He grabbed your hand and deposited a soft kiss on it
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The End
Wally Clark x Reader
Two people died on September 23rd, 1983. One laid out on a football field before hundreds of people, and the other left behind on the cold floor of the boy's locker room.
Word Count: 1.7k
Tags: Sexual assault, semi-graphic depictions of SA, including: almost direct aftermath, reader is naked in the beginning, mentions of blood, and implied loss of virginity via SA, flashback to SA; death, reader's death is overlooked, ANGST
Characters: Wally Clark, Reader, Dalton (OC)
Read it on AO3!
A/N: The Doors title. Hey ya'll. I cannot believe the love I've been getting on this page, and it's driving me past my writer's block more than anything. With school starting, I can feel the academic anxiety kicking in, but I use my writing as a coping method when I can. This story has very intense topics (as stated in the tags) and is not meant to idealize any topics in any way. This was inspired by @general-fanfiction's Hopes and Fears series (GO READ IT RN), and @whoopsyeahokay's October Sun series (ALSO GO READ IT RN). If this story is well received, or I just feel the urge to, I'll probably turn it into a series (bc this sucks as a one-shot). As always, please heed the warnings, and read only if you're comfortable.
Wally Clark Masterlist | School Spirits Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist
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Blood was everywhere.
It slid down your legs and dribbled onto the cold floor of the locker room. Every inch of your skin felt like it was too tight for your bones, and all you wanted to do was reach down your throat and rip out your heart.
Copper flooded your mouth. The tang brushed against the back of your chattering teeth, and all you could think about was how you wanted to crawl to the nearby shower and let it run until one of the coaches found you and dragged you out.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Move. You told yourself. All of your limbs ached. Nothing felt real.
You didn’t want this to be real.
It was supposed to be kind. Gentle. An act out of pure love.
Standing up proved to be hard, and it was like no one was able to hear you screaming out for help. Filtered out by the people flooding the halls, hustling to the big homecoming game going on that night.
The tiled walls provided little help as you brought yourself to a standing position, walking slowly as you felt your feet brush against the pile of your shoes, pants, and underwear on the floor. The touch stopped your heart, breaking a new tier of hate and regret across your body.
He said he loved me.
You turned on the shower, cranking the knob to the hottest setting, knowing that the water wouldn’t get anywhere near warm. Water slid harshly over your body, and you felt it pelt against spots of dried blood on your thighs.
You wished you never come to this stupid football game.
You wished you weren’t as ignorant, or as gullible, or as love-blind as you had been in the past three months.
You wished you never met him.
His face felt bitter and sharp in your head, poking and prodding, as if trying to stick the memory of his hands on you for eternity.
Time passed irregularly, no one came in or out of the locker room, and you were sure that the football game had to have reached its end by all of the cheering and yelling you heard outside.
After using all of the hot water in the gym wing, you slowly walked to the lines of lockers, trying even glimpsing in the direction of your clothes. tried to open every locker until one popped open, revealing a pair of grey sweatpants, a sweatshirt, a muscle tank, blue gym shorts, and a matching varsity jacket with #57 stitched on the arm.
You grabbed the matching sweatsuit, balling it in your arms and silently apologizing to the boy you’d never return the clothing to.
He probably won’t even notice, you told yourself.
You turned the corner around a line of lockers and you could swear you were going crazy. A bare foot poked out from behind the last line of lockers, limply tilted against your pile of clothes, painted a chipped wine red.
You blinked hard, looking down at your own chipped wine-red toes, and you clutched the clothing you stole to your naked body. The cotton was soft compared to the cold tile bracing against your feet, and you brought your eyes to look back to the pile of clothing on the floor.
Bile pooled at the back of your mouth as you hesitantly stepped closer to the foot that hadn’t disappeared. You’re going crazy, you told yourself, but the more and more you stared at the limp, pale body - your limp, pale body - whose features were more of a brutal mass than a face, the less it was going away.
You barely made it past the urinals and into an open stall before you dry-heaved into a toilet.
You were dead.
You couldn’t be.
As you zipped up the stolen hoodie and sweatpants, you tried to remember it all. Kissing under the bleachers before the game, him asking you to come with him while he grabbed something from his gym locker.
Every agonizing second you asked him to stop, to stop pressing you into the lockers because one of the locks was digging into your back; his decrepit hands sliding at your waistline, pushing and prodding past the fabric of your clothes.
Nothing would come up from your stomach.
Could ghosts vomit? You asked yourself, slowly standing to your feet and walking back over to your dead body.
Conversations started to flood the hallway, every muscle in your body coming briefly to attention before you flew out the door and screamed into the rushing crowd of students.
“Hello?” You called out, reaching your arm into the crowd, only to watch it get run through like something out of Star Wars.
Your body became hot, and even though you knew deep down that no one could see you, you pushed your tears back down your choking throat and felt your cheeks heat up with shame.
You walked into the crowd, who was thinning out the further you got from the hallway. Your body tensed for a moment, seeing the lights of police cars and ambulances pulling up to the school. Expecting to see the paramedics rushing toward your body, you waited for them to split the crowd, to start heading toward the school, but they were bolting the other way.
Straight toward the football field.
This school has to be fucking cursed.
One of the players was splayed out on the field, his head gently being lifted as paramedics were tugging his helmet off his head. The football team from whatever school yours was playing against was sitting on the bench, whispering and pointing to another one of their players who was talking to a police officer further down the field.
57.
The number sewn on the jacket hanging among the clothes you stole stood out against the dark blue of the player’s helmet. People gasped and a woman cried out as the paramedic set the helmet aside, revealing the face of the school’s resident golden boy; a dark bruise crawled up his neck, and his mouth guard slid between his lips as his limp head hung unnaturally over his shoulder.
You walked closer, straight through the forming line of police officers, and looked into the field. At the edge of the bleachers, waving his arms around and yelling into a silent group of people, stood Wally Clark.
Wally Clark is dead.
Just like I am.
You took off running, the activity coming easier to you when you were alive.
Alive.
“Wally!” You called out, and the football player snapped his body to your voice, his eyes wide and seeming relieved that someone was talking to him.
You stopped, resting your hands on your hips as he hopped down from the bleachers.
“What’s happening? Why- why is no one talking to me? What did I do?” He asked, skipping the formalities. He came to stand on the field before you, the football gear he was wearing sending a rush of debilitating shame through your body.
You faltered for a moment, his face flashing in your eyes before you rubbed your face back to reality.
“You didn’t do anything, Wally.” You managed to push out, pushing your eyes anywhere but on him.
“Then what is happening? I feel like I’m going crazy, one minute I’m running with the ball, and boom- I’m at the bleachers, trying to get my mother to talk to me and she won’t even look up at me. I know she’s pissed at me about going on the bench, but I mean I got back in the game, and now I’m guessing coach is pissed at me on insisting to get back in and-”
“You’re dead.” You cut off his rambling, forcing yourself to meet his face without looking away after a second, “I mean, I think we’re both dead.”
First, he smiled. Like what you said was some kind of joke. After you said nothing, he started toward the sidewalk, where his mother was now alongside a stretcher being lifted into an ambulance. You could see the tears on her face from where you were, each step you followed Wally, the easier it was to see her sorrow.
Then, as he was following his mother, he suddenly was gone, like he was plucked off the Earth by God himself.
That was until you turned to see him standing on the football field, right where his body was previously lying, tugging at the roots of his hair.
You hovered your foot, leveraging that if you stood on the sidewalk, you would be slingshotted back to the men’s locker room.
You decided to trust your gut and instead talked to Wally.
“I can’t be dead, I mean, that would mean you’re dead, and I literally saw you in the hallway this morning,” Wally said as he paced in a small area before you, “and I know for sure that I saw you because you were hanging around Dalton’s locker, which was weird because everyone on the team thought he had some college girl or something he was hanging out with-”
You didn’t register some of the words he was saying, instead you tried to control your thoughts from ripping you back to your last moments on earth at his name.
“-I mean, do you even know how crazy this sounds?”
You took in a shaky breath, wiping your hands over your face to poorly conceal any emotions that unwillingly spread onto your features, “Yeah, but that’s the thing, Wally. I am dead.”
Saying you were dead for the first time out loud was a lot heavier than you thought it would be.
You’re pretty sure that if the insanity of Wally being killed hadn’t overridden your brain, you would be somewhere huddled up and screaming for some greater power to give you eternal rest.
“What? That’s not possible, I mean, the people you were here with would’ve noticed you were gone. Dalton would’ve noticed you were gone.”
You didn’t want to give his name as much power as you did, but your body tightened up hearing it. You didn’t correct him, instead opting to stare at the dark woods on the far end of the field, your eyes burning once more.
“Y/N,” you were a little surprised that he knew your name, and even more when he stood in front of you with the most gentle expression you’d ever seen, “what happened after school? How did you die?”
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stunie · 2 months
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HEY HEY hope ure doing good!! i saw u mentioning ume's silly shirts and it made me think of how ume would 100% be one of the guys who wears "I♥️MY GF" shirts or matching his and hers shirts with his s/o 😭😭 just ume and his silly tshirts is so cute
oh nia ): this. thinking about him all excited the night before his lil netflix date with you. he saw the shirts through the shop window earlier on his way home— and five minutes later, he was already out the door with the bags in his arms. he had his new outfit for tomorrow draped over his chair hours ago (he gets really excited for dates so he likes to prepare everything early), but he just can’t seem to stop looking at it. he keeps imagining how you’ll react— picturing the look on your face when you see the “i love my girlfriend!” in huge letters across the top. and… just maybe he could try and convince you to put a kiss mark on it too. the whole thing plays out in his head over and over until he’s finally falling asleep with a soft smile tugging at his lips, arms wrapped tightly around his pillow in hopes that tomorrow can come just one second faster.
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wasyago · 1 year
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i imagine it's quite chilly in the black sea (for the lack of sun and color), so they're wearing slightly warmer clothes now uwu
+ thoughts
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iicaru2 · 3 months
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the bottom chuuya tag actually takes years off my life every time i see it. like are you sure? you're dying on THAT hill? when dazai is right fucking there? okay
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stellamancer · 1 year
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bkdk x reader 👀
Okay BYEEEEE 🏃‍♀️
I can't believe you, omg.
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You open the door, expecting to find the bag of food you'd ordered to be delivered, and you do.
But you find Katsuki too.
And he looks positively livid.
Katsuki glowers at you, teeth bared menacingly. "You can order fuckin' DoorDash, but ya can't answer your fuckin' phone?"
You open your mouth, hoping an excuse will come out, but it doesn't— anything you could possibly say is trapped, lodged behind a lump in your throat that you can't get rid of. Katsuki stares expectantly, oddly patient as he waits for you to explain yourself.
Not that you intend to.
In hindsight, it would have been better to just shut the door in his face, saying you'll talk to him and Izuku when you're good and ready— a promise you don't intend to keep. But, Katsuki is nothing if not relentless, and worse than him is—
You duck down, and push past Katsuki, running. It's nothing short of a miracle that he doesn't catch you then and there, his speed and reflexes far, far superior to your own. You barrel down the hallway of your apartment complex, and you can hear him chasing after you. It won't be long before he catches up to you, and if he does you'll be forced to talk. And you don't want to do that.
So you do something a little crazy.
You reach the stairs and instead of attempting to run down them, you latch onto the hand rail at the top and using your momentum from running, you swing yourself over the side to jump all the way down the entire flight of stairs.
Behind you, Katsuki yells something, your name or maybe it's—
As you're falling, something grabs you, and you know the feel, the ghostly sensation of Black Whip wrapped around your body, the tendrils buzzing with a gentle vibration.
Izuku.
You hadn't seen him, but you should have known he'd be here. Would have insisted on it even. You're lowered to the ground, but you remain wrapped up. Katsuki may be the more fiery of the two, but ironically enough, you think Izuku is the more merciless one.
He appears, approaching you with a frown deep set into his features, his eyes wide and concerned. You're hit with a pang of guilt and you don't know if Izuku means to wield his expressions like a weapon, but it's effective.
"Please," he pleads, stepping closer. Katsuki appears behind him, looking to have hopped the stairs as well. He watches, frowning still, as Izuku does the dirty work. What a perfect pair they are, you think in annoyance. Izuku takes another step toward you, repeating. "Please. We just want to talk, okay?"
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shady-tavern · 1 year
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Healing Hearts
Warning for implied Animal and Child Abuse, though nothing graphic, please take care of yourselves.
***
Cloud was a very small and very hopeful cat. Her fur was as gray as the storm clouds she had been born beneath and her family had expected great things of her. She had been very energetic as a kitten, looking forward to finally being big enough that she could help out and be of use. 
To finally be as proud as her big brother, as strong as her mother and as crafty and swift as her father. There was plenty to do with climbing trees to look for birds, tracking mice and keeping lookout for the pack of wild dogs.
But as it turned out, Cloud wasn't very good at many, many things. She fell out of trees when she tried to climb them, she rarely landed on her feet and couldn't stealth through tall grass if her life depended on it. She got distracted watching out for the wild dogs and failed to warn her family in time.
"Maybe it's better if you leave," her brother told her one day, annoyed and tired. His heart was clearly troubled and grim with unpleasant determination. "You are ruining the hunt for all of us and it's unfair that we work hard just to keep you fed when you can't do anything for us."
"I'm doing my best," Cloud protested, upset and hurt and panicked at the idea of being all alone. Of being cast out. "Where would I even go?"
He flicked his tail dismissively. "Anywhere that's not here. Mom and Dad already expect a new litter of kittens and it will be hard enough for us to get them through winter without you there, mooching off of us."
When Cloud looked beseechingly at her parents, her father was studiously looking to the side, tail flicking restlessly. His heart was dark and heavy with what they had decided to do and yet he was too scared to meet her eyes, too scared of seeing the pain he was causing.
Her mother was tired and half asleep, her eyes were apologetic but she didn't speak up. Her heart was worn and exhausted and busy guarding the growing lives beneath it in her belly.
"Go," her brother said quietly, brushing past her. "I'm sure you'll find your place somewhere out there."
Cloud didn't leave right away, even as her heart felt cleaved in two. She lingered and skulked along the edges of her home, until at last the silence of her family drove her fully away.
She felt so desolate, it was nothing but pure luck that she didn't run into the pack of dogs or any other trouble. She walked until it started to rain and then she curled up within a hollowed tree along one of the dirt paths humans had made to travel along.
It took her a long moment to notice the whimper over the gentle, steady rain. Her ears flicked and for a second, she considered not getting up. She was grieving and tired and felt as though her heart had turned to paste, but at last she dragged herself to her feet.
Following the noise, she soon came upon a big, black dog, scars across its muzzle and it was tied down to the ground with a fraying, rough rope. Cloud stilled, startled, but the dog didn't react. He just remained curled up, shivering a little.
"Are you alright?" Cloud asked after a moment and the dog blinked one eye open. He looked very sad and very small, even though he was big. His heart was the darkest and heaviest Cloud had ever seen, filled with pain and grief and worthlessness.
"I was a bad dog," the dog said at last, quiet and so mournful it broke her heart a little. "I always mess up everything."
Despite herself and all her family's warnings, she felt a pang of understanding sympathy. She hesitated, then approached the desolate dog, noticing that he was lashed down so tightly he couldn't get up even if he wanted to.
"What happened to you?" she asked, aghast and the dog closed his eyes again, curling up tighter.
"My master didn't want me," the dog said in the tiniest voice and Cloud was horrified, before anger overtook her. She marched up to the dog and started to chew and claw at the rope until the frayed part snapped.
"Get up," she said and nudged at the startled dog until he clambered to his feet. He was too thin to her liking. "You can't stay here."
"Then where do I go?" the dog asked, fur matted and ears drooping. "I'm not gentle enough with children, too stupid for tricks, too dumb for guarding and too cowardly for fighting. I'm good for nothing."
The words hit home harder than Cloud had thought. She, too, was good for nothing. Too clumsy for climbing, too loud for sneaking and too easy to distract for keeping watch.
"I don't know," she answered at last. "I don't know where to go either." At least he was free now.
When she turned around to leave, the dog hesitantly crept after her. When she didn't protest, he followed her all the way to the hollowed and now they were both curled up within. The space was just barely big enough for them to fit.
After a moment of staring outside Cloud got up again and he looked visibly startled when she curled up against his side. He was warm, even if he smelled of stale air and dust.
They remained there as they waited out the rain and night fell. Some owls hooted and a fox screeched and the dog flinched a little, but stayed calm when she didn't react.
At the first hint of dawn, hunger drove Cloud to her feet. The dog followed her again as they walked down the road in the direction most of the humans traveled.
"Where is your family?" the dog asked quietly after a moment.
Cloud had to wait until her throat stopped aching with grief until she could respond, "They don't want me." She glanced up at her big companion. "I'm not good at anything either."
The dog looked upset on her behalf and hesitated, then offered, "Maybe we can be good at something together?"
That made Cloud thoughtful. Maybe the dog was right, she decided as they walked. Maybe if they worked together, they could make it. "Alright," she said at last and the dog perked up hopefully. "Come on, I think I know where to get food."
The dog looked relieved and eager. As they crested the hill, a settlement came into view. Cloud's family had always warned her away from those places, but she had overheard birds chatting with each other, as they watched her try and fail to climb. They found her clumsiness greatly entertaining.
"People leave food they don't eat outside," she told the dog when he hesitated to set foot into the small town. "We'll be careful. And look, it's still early, so barely anyone is awake."
Hesitantly, the dog followed her at last, almost crawling with how small he tried to make himself. Now came the tricky part. Cloud had heard the birds talk about food, but she had no idea where exactly she was supposed to find it.
She made sure no one spotted them, winding around corners and ducking into hiding spots until the dog suddenly lifted his head.
"I smell something. This way." They followed his nose and soon Cloud smelled what he had caught on the wind. The scent of blood and meat.
There was a building where humans clearly did their killing, which was strange but she wasn't going to question it. Not when bits and pieces got tossed outside. The downside was, they weren't the only ones. Other dogs milled nearby, while wary cats watched from the shadows, ready to swoop in and grab what they could.
"We can find food elsewhere," the dog whispered, looking scared of confrontation. Cloud was about to agree, when their stomachs growled. It hurt and the sound his stomach made was so much worse than hers. He needed food. They both did.
She took a deep breath and stepped forward, her new friend whispering in warning, but to her surprise, he followed still. The dogs paused in their excited staring at the big window and four heads swiveled to look at them.
"Fuck off, kitty," the meanest looking one growled at her, heart sparking in warning like a fire about to blaze bright. "Or you're part of our breakfast."
Her heart was pounding, but even if she was good at nothing, at least she could be brave. She had to be, or they'd go hungry. So when the dog lunged forward with a snarl, she lashed out. It was nothing but pure luck that she had moved when she had. 
Her claws dug deep into the dog's nose and with a pained yowl they flinched back, dripping blood and now they looked scared, the fire in their heart doused swiftly. The rest of the pack lunged to attack and it became a frenzy of clawing and biting and her new friend joined the fray, determined but just as bad at fighting as he had said he was.
"Enough!" someone shouted above and they all flinched apart, staring up at a disgruntled human. "There is enough for all of you, so stop or you'll get nothing at all."
Cloud backed up a step and the pack reluctantly did the same. The human sighed and reached inside to start emptying two buckets, making sure to spread it out as much as possible so everyone got something.
"Hungry lot," he muttered as they all started to snap up pieces. Even the other cats hurriedly grabbed whatever had fallen closest to them. The man's heart was kind despite his rough voice and sharp words and Cloud found herself relaxing a little.
Cloud's big friend managed to snag a piece the size of his head, along with something smaller that dangled from one tooth. Cloud herself grabbed the biggest piece she could and they hurriedly retreated until they felt safe enough to eat.
They laid in the sun together afterwards, sated at last and they enjoyed the sun after a rainy day, keeping an eye out for trouble. They soon explored the town and started to map out the alleys and streets. Cloud made a note of which people were nice and which weren't.
There were so many hearts, good and nasty, bright and dark. Many shifted throughout the day, reflecting the emotions people went through. It helped Cloud in figuring out which humans would be willing to share their food, making her seek out the ones who had happy or soft hearts.
The dog managed to sniff out more places that tossed food outside and Cloud managed to be fast enough to swipe a small fish and later a sausage from someone handing it out to other humans in exchange for something shiny.
"We're doing good so far," Cloud said and the dog hummed in agreement, looking tentatively happy.
They found a place for the night and as the days passed, they settled into a new routine. In the mornings they waited by the butcher, as the man and his employees were called, who threw them all the bits and pieces humans didn't want to eat. Sometimes he tossed them things that smelled a little old, as though they were about to rot, but those were still edible enough for the alley animals.
In the afternoons, Cloud and her friend lingered by the market or other places that had nice people and they ate whatever else they were given or tossed. They sometimes got into fights over food or territory, but managed to establish themselves well enough to get by. 
She was vicious and her companion was big and even if he wasn't good at fighting, he learned to pin down whoever recoiled after getting hit by Cloud's claws. It wasn't pretty, but they made it work.
One afternoon, while Cloud was looking up at a woman with a kind heart with big, pleading eyes, she noticed a struggling crow overhead. The bird looked to be young and one wing was clearly injured. It flew from the roof to the next, barely making the journey. When it tried to get further away, it tumbled and disappeared in a nearby alley.
Accepting the piece of ham Cloud was given, making a quick, sweet noise in thanks, she hurried to where the bird had fallen. She found it crouched between a half broken crate and a trashcan, looking like it was panicking. 
Upon looking closer, the wing wasn't just hurt but tangled up in some kind of see-through, tough string or wire of some kind. The crow's heart was so heavy with grief and fear it might as well have been made of a large stone.
"Do you want some help?" Cloud asked politely around her piece of ham and the struggling bird froze in place, staring at her with wide eyes. "I promise I won't hurt you. Where is your family?"
"Gone," the little bird croaked faintly at last, heart growing even heavier. "I'm alone."
Cloud winced a little. Losing one's family was awful. She set the ham down and carefully approached. The small crow was clearly too terrified to move, but when Cloud started to carefully pull off the string tangled around the wing, the crow inhaled sharply.
When the string was removed entirely, the little crow stared at her in astonishment. A small gurgle of hunger came from the bird's stomach. Cloud thought for a moment, then offered her the piece of ham.
"Can you eat that?" she asked and the bird bobbled a quick nod. "Don't stay here too long, or someone will find you."
With those words, Cloud departed, only to hear struggling hops behind her. Glancing back, she saw that the crow was following, only to stop, ham pinched in her beak.
"Come on then," Cloud decided after a moment and the crow hop-walked to her side hurriedly, glancing around nervously.
Cloud lead the crow back to where the dog was dozing in their hideout and introduced them to each other. It quickly became clear to the bird that she had nothing to fear and the dog was more worried about getting pecked than she was about getting bitten.
And thus, Cloud gained another friend.
They became known as an unlikely trio around town. The little crow, once her wing healed, flew overhead to scout around. They managed to swindle and steal enough food for themselves and kept each other safe from those who did not like having them around.
The hearts of her companions slowly lightened, losing some of the unhappy dimness. They were still burdened, but they had perked up a bit, had regained some of the spirit the world had stolen from them.
Cloud thought they scraped by just fine and she thought about her family in the forest less and less. Her life was going well, most days. 
Sometimes they had to fight harder than usual to have something to eat or to avoid mean people and sure, sometimes she was envious of the pets that had cozy, warm homes where they were always well fed, but those feelings always faded away soon.
She could have found a human for herself, but that would have meant abandoning her friends. She wasn't going to do that. Not when she wouldn't have come as far without them.
It was a gray day, as gray as her fur, with a storm rumbling in the distance, shaping up to be as wild as the one she had been born beneath, when she heard crying. It was human-crying as well, not animal-crying.
Humans usually took care of themselves just fine, but something about the sound didn't sit right with her. Peeking around the corner, Cloud saw a young girl sitting crouched beneath an awning, clothes torn at one shoulder. She was pressing herself against a firmly closed door.
"Please, let me in," the girl begged in a keening voice and her heart was an open, bleeding wound in her chest, oozing despair and panic. "I promise I won't do it again!"
"Go away," someone shouted from beyond the door. "Be lucky we don't just burn you at the stake!"
"I promise I'll never do magic again!" the girl begged around a sob. "I promise I'll be good!"
"Don't lie, we both know you're good at nothing and good for nothing," the voice answered harshly. "Go, this is the only chance I give you, for your late mother's sake. She should have never let you live when you were born with the witch mark."
The girl cried harder and begged again, but no voice answered this time. She slumped down the door at last, curling up tight and cried. Cloud hesitated, then slunk forward. The girl looked up at her meow and when Cloud nudged her leg, she found herself scooped up by trembling hands.
The girl was warm and cried until she was too exhausted to continue. The door didn't open and no one came for the girl. Cloud stayed with the girl for so long, waiting, that the dog and crow came looking for her.
"Come on," she said at last and nudged at the girl until she got up and followed them.
The hideout was a little small for a human girl, but they made do, curling around her to keep her warm. Her heart was still open and bleeding, still oozing despair, but the panic had softened and was nearly gone, instead replaced by exhaustion. 
They were going to take care of her, Cloud decided and when she looked at her friends, their hearts and gazes reflected that same decision.
It was more difficult to keep a human fed, that was for sure. Cloud and her friends worked hard to get enough food and the girl never complained and helped as much as she could, begging for the shiny coins that the crow started to look for. 
She once came back with a piece that made the girl gasp and they didn't go hungry for an entire week. They ate the best food they had ever gotten that week.
The girl was smart, Cloud realized. She knew exactly where they could go to get food and as time passed, Cloud observed her doing strange things. Things no other human did. She stood beneath the full moon and her skin seemed to glow the faintest bit, sometimes she held things in her hands she couldn't have gotten on her own and sometimes she got little glimpses of the future.
Other people started to notice as well sooner or later. They got no more food from the butcher or the other shops and previously nice people avoided them in the streets.
"We don't feed witch-cats," one man who had always given her a piece of fish hissed at Cloud when she meowed sweetly at him. "Leave!"
"My uncle says I'm a witch," the girl murmured when she lit a fire with the snap of her fingers. They had no food tonight, hadn't had much to eat that wasn't stolen out of trash cans in days. "It won't be long now before they decide to burn me. And...I fear what they will do to you."
There was only really one solution then. Cloud exchanged a glance with the dog and crow and that night, while the town slept, they left. On the way out, they stole everything they could.
The crow stood guard outside and sat on windows, watching people sleep as the girl whispered at doors so the locks clicked open. They left with sacks of shinies the girl had used in the past to get food and old skins to stay warm. Next they grabbed food and better, good skins to wrap up in and then they disappeared into the night.
They managed to find their way through the dark, with the crow's eyes in the sky, the dog's nose and Cloud's ears. They fought off whatever dangers came their way as they traveled with cunning and sheer viciousness and a healthy dose of desperate determination.
But as the air grew colder with the passing days, Cloud realized they needed some place to settle. The girl wasn't strong or old enough to make it through winter out in the open and it was slowly growing colder. Luck was on their side at last, when they stumbled across an old cabin, surrounded by a crumbling stone wall.
"A witch's hut," the girl whispered. "I heard rumors that those places draw witches to them when they stand empty for too long, but I didn't think that was true."
It was dusty and smelled old and stale inside, but all the walls were intact, the roof didn't leak and the windows didn't creak. A fire was lit swiftly in the chimney and they curled up, their hearts glad for a dry, warm place to sleep in.
Soon the downright dreary, slightly creepy place transformed. It was as though it came alive the more they made it their home. The floorboards gleamed like they had been recently polished when they were dusted and washed, the walls looked freshly made when the cobwebs were all swiftly removed. 
The garden grew and transformed and with each day, the crumbling garden wall seemed to repair itself. Weeds disappeared and vegetables and herbs grew strong and vibrant instead, offering a last, big bounty before winter came.
The brighter and warmer the place became, the more it turned into their home and Cloud watched the hearts of those around her to grow lighter in turn. Relief at having finally found a safe place softened everyone and allowed hope to shine brighter and brighter the more time passed.
They had found a true, proper home at last and after some exploring once winter had passed, they discovered a village nearby. They cautiously ventured into it to trade shinies for things. Soon it was a normal sight for the residents to see the girl with her animal companions. 
The local herbalist was willing to take the girl under her wing and as they were accepted by the village, they settled into a better, warmer and well-fed life. The girl grew older and as the years passed, Cloud noticed that she didn't really age anymore and neither did the dog and crow.
"Well, you're my familiars now," the witch said, carefully cleaning off small crystals she had found in a river. She smiled wide and happy. "That means we're family for as long as you want to be."
Oh, that was very sweet. Cloud cuddled up to the witch and got the best scratches in return.
"You know," the dog said that evening as they dozed on the thick, soft carpet in front of the warm fire. Snow was slowly falling outside, but they felt none of the cold bite inside. "I'm so glad you found me that day. Even if I'm good at nothing, I still have a life I could have never dreamed of."
Cloud frowned at that. "But you are good at many things," she said and when the dog looked ready to protest, she hurriedly tacked on, "Your nose saved us many times and you always found food for us no matter what. You kept us from going hungry."
The dog ducked his head, bashful but hopeful so she kept talking, "Even if you say you can't fight because you're too cowardly, you always helped me no matter how scared you were. That's real bravery, you know?"
"Oh." The dog was quiet for a long moment, then whispered, "You really think so?"
"Yes, there is no doubt," Cloud said firmly.
The crow flapped down from her perch in the rafters and nodded. "You're strong and big and warm and you always take care of us," she said. "Whoever told you you're good for nothing lied to you. You guys..." She hopped a little closer, voice going warm. "You're my family. When I had nothing, you came and gave me everything."
The dog gently nudged their heads together with a little rumble. "And you're mine." He was quiet for a long moment. "I...never thought about it that way. Do you really think I'm pulling my weight?"
"A hundred times over," Cloud said with certainty, then nudged the crow as well. "And you're our family too."
The crow chirp-cawed happily and they laid snuggled together on the carpet. The crow was asleep and Cloud was about to doze off when the dog murmured, "You're no good-for-nothing either."
Cloud opened one eye and he shifted his head to look at her. "You saved me when no one else would have and you have done the same for our crow friend and our witch." The dog tipped his head a little to the side. "And then you helped us figure out how to survive. We wouldn't have made it if we hadn't all stuck together, if you hadn't found us. So, you know, you're definitely good at something."
Cloud was wide awake now while the dog fell asleep, snoring ridiculously loud within moments. She watched the dog and crow a moment longer, then looked up to where their witch was making a protective charm for a worried villager.
When the witch noticed her staring, she looked up and smiled. "Sleep," the witch whispered. "We're safe here. Safe and happy and we're going to stick together, won't we?"
Cloud chirped a little noise in agreement and settled down. Her heart felt full and as warm as the fire they laid near.
Without realizing, without even meaning to, she had ended up getting everything she had ever wanted. A family that loved her and a purpose, as strange as it may look to others. And sure, she wasn't good at any of the things other cats were good at, but now she didn't have to be. Now it was a good thing that she was strange and different.
She fell asleep with a smile and in the morning the world outside was snowy and cold, but her heart still glowed bright and warm. And when the witch looked knowingly at all of them, when Cloud noticed that they all walked unburdened, she realized they had done it.
They had healed the wounds on their hearts.
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skyburger · 1 month
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omori × tree village café icons !
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igarbagecannoteven · 2 months
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hi!! just read your cake at the craft store fic and thought I'd introduce myself on here :) you're a talented writer and seem like a lovely person!
oh my gosh thank you so much! that's so sweet of you 🥰i'm so glad you enjoyed my work! (and thank you so much for the lovely comment on ao3!) also love your handles on both ao3 and here, i'm a big fan of herons myself 😊
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atticcreationz · 9 months
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[Ruth is talking to Brooke at her locker, then the bell rings, and Ruth runs over to join Richie and Pete on the way to class, blushing]
RICHIE: Ruth, is that a ~spark~ I detect between you and Brooke?
RUTH: maybe 😏 I get all warm and fuzzy when I talk to her...!
PETE: uh, that might just be the fires
[all three turn around to see Brooke setting her own locker ablaze]
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jichanxo · 2 months
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made a tierlist of my kuwagami fics for funsies (+ notes for a few) ↓
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(everything listed in the same tier are equals, so the order they're listed in has no meaning)
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moe-broey · 2 months
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HELP maybe this is influenced by how I'm writing this, or maybe it was supposed to be gleaned from canon and I just. Haven't fully thought about it til now. Haven't Deeply analyzed it beyond the blaring alarm bells that go off when reading this. But. Alfonse's,
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Straight into.
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This isn't him doubling down. This is him BACKTRACKING. This is him going, "oh fuck I think maybe I came on a little too strong maybe I was a bit too vulnerable and that's really scary. How do I fix this" and he's running through all the dialogue options in his head like Okay. Play it Cool. Keep it Casual. Proclaim your undying loyalty and devotion to your Trusted Partner (person he just told in the beginning of this conversation that he didn't intend to become friends with) by making yourself a blade and shield for them. NAILED IT 👍
#fire emblem#feh#ALFONSE. PLEASE. COME ON MAN#HUUUUUGE FUCKING EPIPHANY FOR ME THOUGH as i'm writing/drawing bc that last line i've been struggling w the most#but this. add some moe lore. I HAVE HUGE IDEAS ABOUT THE MOE LORE IN TANDEM W THE CANON IMPLICATIONS.#in short/minimal spoilers if i forget to expand on it later BUT IT'S SO HUGE TO ME. SO HUGE#but i think alfonse has Noticed. things about moe. similarities to himself. but it either#doesn't know it or refuses to acknowledge it. he isn't sure which yet. so when he says 'i hope you feel the same'#he's reaching out ala pre-skip dimitri fbs. asking moe to Consider This. AND. AND. IN TANDEM.#w the canon implications. that he doesn't think highly of himself and doesn't dare wait for an answer#AND. AND. HELP THERE'S A MOMENT THAT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY. he just commits a Blunder#that even moe's autistic ass catches him on. it all happens So quickly. in a fucking instant.#WHICH. WHICH. LED TO ME REALIZING THIS. he is trying TO CATCH HIMSELF HERE.#AND THE. ADDITION. of moe lore/the blunder why he tries to move on So quickly. please do NOT ask me questions i WILL throw up.#ALSO LIKE book 3 alfonse fresh in my mind. i did take a break after The Incident (gustav).#but like. goes so insane actually. this is really all he knows how to be. constantly in service to others. made to be a tool.#it's so fucked up bc you can see he is genuinely wired like that too. he WANTS to help. he wants to do good#but man................... i def don't have the words for it rn it's just so tragic. but i think about it All The Fucking Time.#GOD SORRY I'M HAVING ANOTHER ALEAR FB MOMENT. ALFONSE. ALFONSE.#cut off that tangent just to make a whole other post about it.#fe alfonse#moe tag#TAGGING IT. bc i rambled about it in the tags and it's MY OC I MAKE THE RULES 😤😤😤😤😤
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