#pen alcott

[myalonyalala]

Pen Alcott

The man that you are

[wronghands1]

[mrwannadie]

Btw--

I tried to get more Osamu cards in the new mayoi scout, but FUCK-

WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME HOW FUCKING CUTE ALCOTTS CHIBI SPRITE WAS!

I literally died on the spot and screamed at told my pal at how adorable they made her.

wanna hug her and bring her tea and cookies

[lauvgoods]

hey queen could i request a little angsty rafe x reader inspired by the alcott by the national featuring taylor swift

the alcott / rafe cameron

SUMMARY : rafe has a bad habit of ruining the good parts of his life, including you, but you just can't seem to walk away

PARTNERING : rafe cameron x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : 3916

GENRE : angst , open-ended

WARNINGS : unhealthy relationship, drugs and alcohol, a few swear words, one brief mention of sex

A/N : first request! this ran a little longer and angstier than i'd expected, but i really hope i was able to do this justice and give you what you wanted! i also hope you're okay with it being so open-ended

𐙚₊˚⊹ 🦢 “it’s been a long time, but I really need to get some things off of my chest. mind meeting me at the country club? our spot?”

the text is brief, to the point. you wouldn’t expect much more from rafe given that it’s, well, rafe, but it caught you off guard nonetheless. the distance between the two of you has only grown after everything went down, after what he had done, and honestly he didn’t expect you to respond, much less agree to seeing him. then again, you always seemed to be the only one to see the best in him even if he knew he didn’t deserve it. you’d always–almost always forgiven him no matter how horrible he could act. 

rafe is wringing his hands, sitting in his car, trying to convince himself that this will be alright, though he knows that it’s just you at the end of the day. just you? he internally scoffs at his own thoughts. it has never been just you. the one person who truly made him feel alive, like he was a person outside of his mistakes. what was it you had always told him? “you are more than the worst parts of yourself.” you’d never thought of him as a lost cause, not once, but here he is thinking about how best to go about asking for your forgiveness yet again. 

two years of knowing each other, of loving each other, and yet it had all gone to shit. as usual, he knew, all because of himself. 

there’s a pool shack just near the main building, the one where he’d first spotted you, where you’d peaked his interest. rather than out getting a tan or swimming, you were sat in the corner of the building, a fancy little golden notebook propped up against your knees. it was cooler inside, so half of him couldn’t blame you, but he guesses it was that notebook that had caught his attention. a journal, diary, he didn’t much care at the time, but when he sees you in that exact same spot, with the exact same notebook, the biggest sense of deja vu washes over him. he’s stuck there, staring at you, watching you with that pen probably writing in the nicest handwriting you can. you haven’t noticed him just yet, and that’s how he knows that whatever it is, it’s captured your attention and pulled you into a little bubble like always. he isn’t stupid, though, he’s seen it on your socials, you leaning against someone else in pictures, smiling like how you did at the start of your relationship. not like the end, where everything was clear by the dimmed light in your eyes, smile not reaching them in the way he loved. he knows what you’re writing about—or rather who. 

after a few minutes of admittedly creepy staring from him, you feel that prickling on the back of your neck, that itch of eyes watching, and look up to see him. he looks different, cleaner, more alive than he had before, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s a familiar ache in your chest, a bittersweet taste on your tongue, before the corners of your lips turn up into a warm smile. rafe just stares for a moment, taking you in. you look the same, but that light has come back, and that brings him more grief than you’ll know for the conversation he has in mind. 

a couple of steps forward, and he’s sitting across from you. the sunlight coming in through the window washes you both in its warmth, melting the awkward feelings that might have otherwise arisen. there’s this look on his face, one that you know all too well. his jaw is locked tight, hands clenched into fists, and he’s avoiding your eyes. he hopes that you’ll still believe him this time when he talks, but he wouldn’t be shocked if you didn’t. he half expects you to walk out before he can get a word out, a sickly smirk on your face as you taunt him for ever thinking he could get a positive reaction out of you after it all. 

“i’m sorry.” 

it’s clear the words take effort to get out, and your eyes widen as they hit you. you can’t recall the last time he apologized, genuinely apologized. not something half-assed just to move on from another fight so you can fall back into an old routine again. kissing, falling back into bed with one another, walking on eggshells, the party, the inevitable fight, another fake apology. it was a cycle, an awful cycle that you wouldn’t dare break for fear of losing him. the truth, though, was that you’d lost him a long time ago. 

you can read him like an open book, like an instruction manual leading you to all his deepest darkest feelings that he wouldn’t dare let anyone catch a glimpse of. there’s fear, and you hate the way your heart inevitably softens at it all. you don’t reply though, placing your pen between the pages and setting it carefully on the table separating the two of you. you wait, looking directly at where his eyes would meet yours if they weren’t so carefully looking just above at your forehead. he never was good at confrontation, not heavy ones like these anyway. anger he could deal with. you’ve lost count of the number of times he’d punched a wall, or slammed a door, all out of pure rage. guilt is something he’s been quick to bury, whether under layers of other emotions or less-than-healthy outlets. 

“i hurt you, i know that. i did a lot of things i’m not proud of. i’ve–” he cuts himself off with a harsh sigh, tightly clenching his fist. words or conversations like these have never been his biggest strength. “i ruined what we had. the coke, the drinking, the fighting, and then the way i broke it all off, i never should have treated you that way.” 

“rafe, can we please go home? it’s late and you’ve had a lot to drink and i just think you should cut yourself off for the night.”

it wasn’t the first time you’d asked him that night. as a matter of fact, it was the third. still, he looked up at you with an expression that left you feeling small and insignificant in a way that can’t be described. here you were again, killing his high and, as he would probably be saying later, ruining his night as always. you knew, though, that he didn’t really mean any of it. in the morning he’d wake up beside you, pressing kisses to your cheek and apologizing for how he’d acted, saying he would try to get better, for you. 

tears filled your eyes, yet you held your tongue, knowing that angering him during a high would never be a good idea. you weren’t scared of him, knowing he would never lay a hand on you, but his shouting was almost worse than any physical blows. his words lingered in the back of your mind. 

“rafe, you know how much i hate these parties. you always end up high out of your mind and leaving off on my own to hang out with your friends. can’t we just stay in tonight?” you’d asked, eyes pleading while he turned off the ignition. 

he let your worries roll off of his back like water, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to kiss the back of it with that boyish grin you loved. “c’mon, i promise i’ll stick with you this time. promise it’ll just be a few drinks and then we can head back, ‘kay?”

promises, promises, promises. all empty even if he didn’t know it while making them. the moment he’d had two drinks, he had his eyes zeroed in on the table in the corner, and was off before you even knew he’d gone. you stood there in the kitchen, turning in circles, standing on the tips of your toes to try and spot him out among the crowd of partygoers. he’d left you again, and it took you nearly half an hour to find him. of course, the lines of white powder lined up and a rolled dollar bill clasped between his fingers. his pupils were already blown, that dazed look in his eye, and he smiled stupidly at you before waving you over. 

“c’mere, i want you to try this time.”

that one moment would come up in more fights than either of you could have known. 

you never did a single line, walking out on the party the moment he’d started getting annoyed at your lack of interest in the drugs, having a screaming match that same night, and it was one of the first times you saw him cry. fists pressed into his face, crouched down to his knees as he tried to regain some control over his emotions. there wasn’t much rafe didn’t tell you, especially regarding his situation with ward. his father had always been awful to him, never making him feel wanted. you knew that beneath that tough, hardened exterior was a boy who had been left on his own, neglected and never truly loved in the way he deserved. 

“every time i tried to tell you to hold back, to reel it all in, you’d look at me like i was an idiot, rafe. Like i was horrible for wanting to help you. you didn’t just hurt me rafe, you shattered me. you made promise after promise and then broke it all in the same night. it’s like you looked right into my mind, figured out the absolute last thing i wanted you to do, and just immediately went and did it.”

the smile is gone, the warmth from the sun fueling the sudden surge of emotions. your throat feels tight as you finally speak, memories pulling free from that little wall you’d put up, trying so hard to forget it all. to move on. that small ache in your chest seems to have burst, tearing at everything it reaches. there’s a burning in your eyes, but you blink fast in an effort to keep it all in. once that dam breaks, you know it’ll come out all at once and ruin any composure you have. 

rafe feels that spark of guilt erupt into a blaze, and despite the heat outside the cold pricks like needles at his skin. he’s already caught on to that uptick in your breathing, the way your knee bounces under the table even though he can’t fully see it. there’s a slight shake to your fingers that breaks his heart all over again. he’s painfully aware of it. 

everyone had warned you about dating rafe, how he’d only hurt you, keep you as another notch on his belt before going on to the next poor girl. despite the worries lingering in the back of your mind, you simply couldn’t attach that description to the same man you knew. the one that would ask to stay over, fall asleep with his head on your lap, the way he’d look at you like you were the sun. falling for him was like breathing, but when you hit the ground it nearly broke you. 

“i know i lied, and you deserved better than me. honestly, i wish you’d walked away just so you’d be less hurt in the end.” there’s a strained tone dripping off of his every word, rafe’s eyebrows knitting together while his eyes bore holes into the table. “god, i ruined everything.”

your bottom lip quivers, and you know that you’re done for. your vision is already going blurry, and any breath you take feels like it’s coming through a straw. 

“you ever think that you’re my problem? huh? maybe it’s you, not me. you’re always weighing me down, fucking nagging me for attention instead of going out and doing the things i wanna do. i just wanted a girlfriend that would be there for me, you know? listen to me and not try to drag me down. you hear me? you’re suffocating me!”

the words shouted at you as rafe paced back and forth across the empty parking lot were just that. words. he’d wake up in the morning no longer coked out or angry, but even this was a new low for him. as much as you tried to hide them, the tears spilled over. he didn’t really mean it, you knew that. you knew he had trouble controlling his anger, losing his grip, that he would beg you with tears in his eyes to forgive him. but it hurt. the mornings waking up, your body sore from crying yourself out until you were dehydrated and weak, then covering your puffy and red eyes with anything you could just to make him feel less guilty, knowing he didn’t actually believe the things he said. these moments, though, made you feel like a speck. a tiny speck but yet also the most enormous burden to him. you loved him so much it was killing you, had been killing you for longer than you realized.

“you even sound like my sister! ‘rafe, what’s wrong with you?’ ‘rafe, stop it!’ which side are you even on? why don’t you go ahead and hang out with her and all her shitty friends if you wanna say that shit?”

why couldn’t he ever make it easy on you, not even this one time? he’d taken everything you ever loved and blown it all up like a goddamn landmine, stepping on all the good memories that you had of him and forever tainting any other parts of your life when looking back on what your life had been like when you were dating him. you’d given all of yourself over to helping him, to trying to get him to see himself like you did. now when you try to focus on who you’d been back then, all you can remember is what stage with him you were in. that one time you had tried to spend christmas with your family? all you can think about now is how worried you were that he might be out partying and could overdose instead of truly enjoying your time together. 

your entire life had been completely focused both on loving him and on making sure he didn’t completely ruin his. 

“did you mean any of it?”

your voice sounds less like yourself with the way you’re having to hold it all in. it’s then, hearing you, that he finally looks you in the eye. tears are brimming in your eyes, droplets hanging onto the lashes before finally dripping down onto your shirt. your face has grown flushed, your throat painfully dry and constricted. 

“didn’t mean anything i said when i was high or drunk off my ass. you were never the problem, that was all me.” he sounds earnest as he speaks, and you can tell from the way he’s rubbing his hands against his pants that it’s getting to him just as much as it is you. “i was so focused on getting my next fix, but i promise you you were everything to me.”

that’s when the dam starts to crack, the tears flowing freely down your face, starting that itchy feeling on your neck as you try to wipe them with the back of your hands. 

“did i do any good?” your voice is wavering, on the edge of a full-blown sob. “loving you? did i help you any at all while we were together?”

rafe was laid out on the bed, the alcohol having long since gotten him drowsy. he didn’t get high this time, which was likely what had saved you from another fight. you simply didn’t have the energy. looking into the bathroom mirror, you were a ghost of the girl you’d been when you first started dating him. it was valentine’s day, he had made plans for a date and you’d even bought a new dress to wear out to eat. but, of course, rafe had gotten into a bottle of wine, claiming it to be the more romantic decision to start out the evening. the night had gone sour the moment he pulled the two glasses from the overhead cabinet and poured himself a generous amount. 

it was three glasses later for him–you hadn’t had a sip of yours–when he’d stumbled and knocked the entire glass down the front of your dress. 

“i’m so, so sorry, i didn’t mean to i just tripped.”

it was with tears in your eyes that you reassured him you weren’t upset, that you didn’t feel like dinner anyway. what rafe also neglected to realize was how far past the time of the dinner reservations it was. holding back another crying session, you led him up to bed where he promptly flopped down on top of it all. 

standing over the sink, still in your ruined evening gown, tears left tracks in your makeup, mascara running as your shoulders shook, yet you held in any noise for fear of making him feel guilty. every time, you reminded yourself of how kind and good he could be. you told yourself that you knew the person beneath all of this, that you knew that he had so much potential to be better, he just really needed to try and for it to stick. 

“you were the best thing i’ve ever had.”

rafe’s eyes are red, eyes glassy with tears, and you can tell he’s holding it all in. 

“you saw the best in me when no one else did. you didn’t just see a screw-up, a druggie, a disappointment, or a hopeless cause. you just saw me.” 

it’s on that last word that his voice breaks, and the gasp that he sucks in splinters any resolve you have left. you’ve never had the strongest will to walk away, only doing so after he destroyed it all. 

but rafe knew that he was poisoning you, could tell even if he refused to admit it to himself. he’d heard you crying sometimes, seen you through video calls with those puffy eyes, could see the way he was the one sucking the life out of you day by day. rather than trying to fix it or talk to you, or even get real help, he did what he does best. he self-destructed. 

that night, when he’d been calling you the problem in the middle of that empty parking lot, that was where he blew it all up. 

“i can’t do this anymore.”

red-eyed and frozen in place, you looked up at him, feeling like all the air had been sucked from your lungs. you were choking on it. he’d gone ranting and raving, had raised his voice, but never even came close to ending things. 

“rafe, no, you don’t mean that. you can’t-”

you’d started toward him, hoping that you could embrace him, console him, and things would be alright. it was a curse, the worst kind of curse, yet one that you loved because it was him. you loved him with every single part of yourself even if that meant breaking yourself to save him even in the slightest. he, however, put up his arms in front of himself and took a step back, shaking his head. 

“no, i’m done. we’re done. i don’t want to do this anymore with you, ‘cause i know all you want is to fix me. you don’t care about me for me, this is who i am. i go out and i party and i have the time of my life. it’s clear you can’t handle that.”

your breaths came out short, harsh, trying to backpedal and get him to see reason, more panicked than he’d ever heard you. “ro, rafe i promise you i can, i’m so sorry if i made you feel like i don’t really care about you. we can work on this if you just-”

“STOP!”

you were on the verge of sobbing at this point, unable to figure out where it had taken such a turn for the worst possible end. had you thought about walking away? more than once, but you rationalized that you couldn’t leave him like this. 

and he left. he walked away, back into the house party that you drove him to, claiming that topper or somebody else could take him home. he left you there, crumbling into absolutely nothing with the worst pain you’d felt in your entire life, like something in your chest was ripping apart, holding back screams. 

“i need you to help me forget you, rafe, ‘cause i can’t just go on like this.”

your hands come up to hold yourself, rubbing up and down your arms as you cry in front of the boy you loved. you want more than anything to hate him, to be able to just scream at him or tell him how much of you he’d taken. you’ve been trying to build yourself back up, trying to fix that hole in your chest. two years doesn’t just disappear in a few months. loving someone in that way leaves its mark on you, sticks to you like a second skin, comes back when you think you’re finally starting to be okay again and devastates you. it leaves you walking around as a ghost, all this love and no one to give it to because the person you hold in your heart is gone. 

the problem for rafe is, he doesn’t want to forget. he knows he can’t, that in him is that love that he’s tried so hard to bury for both of your sakes, that anything he wants will just ruin any chance of what you’re trying to achieve all over again. 

“i’m trying to get clean,” he says instead, taking in a stuttered breath. “about two months now, 'cause i know how much you hated it.”

the both of you know it, how no matter how hard you try it’s nearly impossible to walk away. it would be better for everyone, healthier for everyone. you can get with that person you’ve been posting, he can find someone that makes him happy without flashing back to every fight if something starts to go wrong. you two won’t risk falling into bad habits, and can be happy individually. 

instead, you open that golden notebook with shaky hands, your pen having held your place, and you turn it for him to read. 

“can you, um, can you read that last sentence out loud?”

he looks at you, eyes searching for some sort of meaning to how quickly the topic seems to have changed, before letting his gaze fall down to the words at the bottom of the page. 

“i’m trying, i’m really trying here, but i don’t know if i can move on from him, not with all that i’ve still got left in me.” he trails off at the end as he seems to realize what you mean, and lets out a slow breath. 

“rafe, i knew from the minute i got that text what might happen. i knew, for a fact, that i’d be falling back in love with you the minute i saw your face.” 

the air is still, a long silence stretching between the only two people in the room. the sun has gone behind a patch of clouds, leaving the room darker. 🕯️⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

[qnxemz]

cause i love this curse on our house - leon kennedy x reader

summary:

Leon can't stop the doubts that crowd his mind after he has a dream about you.

I'll ruin it for you. I'll ruin it all over and over like I always do. Loosely inspired by the song, "The Alcott" by the National ft. Taylor Swift.

words: 4.3k

notes: first fic! i have leon brain rot rn. also posted on ao3!

The candle light flickered and left erratic shapes on the walls of your home. The only other light illuminating your face was the random late night show displayed on the television. Your eyes struggled to stay open as you fought sleep. Leon had told you he would be back today, and you were determined to stay awake, so you could greet him. There was always a chance that his mission would be delayed or something else out of his control would happen that made him late, but the slight off chance that everything did work out, you knew he would be here. 

In an effort to keep your mind running, you wrote in your journal, a gift to you from Leon. It was yellow, and it was a bit frayed on the edges, but you loved it nonetheless. You had adorned the journal with decorations, covering the front entirely, but you didn’t mind the clutter. Your absolute favorite decoration was the polaroid of you and Leon, an item secretly stolen from Claire after she teased the hell out of you both. It was taken before you and Leon had started dating, a time when neither of you were brave enough to confess to each other. 

 You wrote random things in your journal, but you also wrote things that you hoped to remember to tell Leon whenever he arrived from missions. It was easier this way as it kept a part of your relationship hidden from prying eyes or ears, and it became a tradition of sorts to guide Leon through your thoughts while he was gone. Many of the things you wrote down were trivial, but Leon never seemed to mind the stray grocery list scribbled on spare pages.  

As the clock ticked closer and closer to 1 am, it became harder and harder to focus on the energetic late night TV host. Writing a quick note in your journal, a sigh escaped from your lips. You slowly convinced yourself that a 20 minute nap would be the perfect solution to your drowsiness. Pulling the blanket closer towards your chest, you let sleep overcome you. 

—

You were awakened by the warmth of someone’s chest enveloping you. Despite your groggy state, you knew there was only one person who would be here with you now.  

“Leon” you say as you press your face against his chest. He smelled like what you’ve always known him to smell like only with the faint addition of his favorite cologne. Leon’s arms were sturdy around you, the invisible thread between you two finally at ease. 

Shushing you, Leon said, “Go back to sleep.” He paused and gave a kiss to your forehead. “You’ll thank me in the morning for not letting you sleep on the couch.” 

As he lifted you, he noticed your notebook opened on your lap with your simple black pen nestled between the pages. Gently laying you back down on the couch, he reached for the journal to put in a safer location. Before moving it to the coffee table, he noticed the last thing you wrote.

Sorry, Leon! Promise this is only a 20 minute nap! 

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. You could never keep yourself awake, but he adored how you tried. Closing your golden notebook, his eyes lingered on the cover, specifically the polaroid of you and him sleeping together on the couch, your bodies entwined. Your stickers littered the sides of the polaroid with everything you loved. He smiled to himself as he traced the worn out edges of the journal before placing it down and tending to you. 

As he went up the stairs to the bedroom, he couldn’t help but notice how he missed everything. He missed the pictures hanging on the wall. He missed holding you like this. He missed the smell of the candle he blew out when he entered your home. He missed seeing you curled on the couch, having lost the battle to sleep and having to turn off the television for you. 

When he entered your shared bedroom, he realized what he missed most of all was simply just being with you. You had been with him for so long, since all this madness began, and he simply couldn’t remember a time when you were not a part of his life. The ache in his heart spread, knowing that you would never stray far from where he was when all he ever did was leave. He hated that he could never give you more. 

Laying you down gently on the bed, he did his best to cover you. Looking at your sleeping form once more, he went to put on some more comfortable clothes. When he finally made it to bed, you had fallen back into deep sleep. Doing his best to make as little disturbance as possible, he laid down, the bed slightly dipping due to his weight. Instantly, almost as if seeking his warmth, you gravitated towards Leon. Putting his arm around you, he brought you impossibly closer. You hooked a leg over him in your sleep, and Leon smiled contently, looking at the ceiling. There was no better peace than being here with you. Leon knew he would not be able to sleep much because once he closed his eyes, he would see the trauma of his latest mission. However, snuggled here with you, your body seeking him as if he were the answer to your prayers, he couldn’t help but try to get some shut eye. 

—

Leon woke up peacefully, something he hadn't done in months. His mind raced when he didn’t feel the warmth of you anymore. In fact, the side of your bed was empty. It was still dark outside, so he knew you couldn’t have been up yet. However, something felt off about the apartment. It almost felt like there was another presence other than the two of you, which had Leon worrying about your safety. He quickly got up, not bothering to put on more suitable clothes and grabbed his gun he had hidden in the nightstand. 

As he walked carefully around the apartment, he found himself heading to your shared office.  It wasn’t until he heard something that he never thought he would hear that his eyes widened. A baby giggle. Quickly, he lowered his gun but abruptly stopped when he saw you in the office, except it wasn’t an office anymore. It was a nursery with a crib and stuffed animals in every corner. There was a tiny bookshelf in the corner, and the carpet under Leon’s feet was soft. His eyes eventually fell on you, in the middle of the room. However, you weren’t just standing there. You were cradling a baby. 

You were turned away from him, facing the window with only the moonlight illuminating your silhouette. He softly called out your name. For some reason, he wasn’t alarmed that you were carrying a baby in your arms. It felt as natural as the gun loaded in his hand. Leon stood at the doorway for a bit, admiring your beauty and a bit in awe with the entire situation. He walked towards you softly, in order to not alarm you. However, the closer he got to you, the more he realized something was terribly wrong. Your pjs were now ripped, and there was a terrible smell of death. When he faced you, he realized exactly what had happened. 

You were dead. No, you were worse than dead. You were a zombie, alive but dead. His heartbeat quickened. He gripped the gun in his hand more firmly. He called your name again, but it was like you couldn’t hear him at all. Your gaze never moved from the baby in your arms. Other than the slight rocking in your form, you did nothing to indicate that you knew of Leon’s presence. There was a faint smile to your pale lips as you looked at the bundle wrapped in your arms. He could hear the baby more clearly now. His and your baby giggling happy gurgles unaware that their own mother was dead. 

Leon’s face was wet. He was crying silent tears. He wished you would attack him. He wished you would act more like the zombies in Raccoon City because maybe it would have made this easier. He couldn’t kill you. He doesn’t even think he could kill you if you were clawing at his face, yearning to take a chunk of his skin off. With you here, cuddling his baby, he realized there was nothing he wanted more. He wanted this domesticity with you. But you were dead. You had become the monster from his nightmares, a hell he experienced for the first time 3 years ago. 

Leon thinks this is worse than hell. Hell would have hurt less. He fell to his knees, never taking his eyes off of you, the gun long forgotten in his hand.  His vision was beginning to blur, but he could still make out your face. He swore he could hear you slightly humming to the infant in your arms. He kneeled there, sobbing over what you had become, his dream and nightmare intertwined in some cruel twist of fate. 

In the midst of his tears, he realized there were no more baby giggles. Instead, there was eerily silence, and then he heard it. It was muffled at first, but he could hear it. Your baby was crying. Their wails got louder and louder, and when he looked at you, his breath caught short. 

You were looking right at him, angrily as if he was the one that caused the newborn to cry. Your face had been clawed open by some zombie. He could see the bone in your cheek, but what caught his attention were your eyes. Your eyes, the ones  he loved so much were cloudy and bloodshot. There was no love behind them, no laughter, no life. He did this. He caused you to lose the light in your eyes. He made you this. The tears were hot now, scalding his skin. This was what he deserved, and he selfishly made you a part of his fate. He looked down at his hands, and they were covered in blood. When he looked back up at you, you lunged at him, the baby gone from your hands. 

—

He woke up with a start. He was back in bed. There was never a baby. You were never a zombie. Leon was with you in bed, his body sore due to how tense he was. His chest was heavy and riddled with sweat. He slowly unclenched his fists and brought a hand to his face. He realized he had been crying. The only comfort was that he still felt your body entangled with him. 

You had slightly moved positions due to his movement, but otherwise you were still peacefully sleeping. If he looked closely, he could see your chest rising up and down. In an effort to avoid jolting you awake, he did his best to strip himself from you. 

Before he made his way to the balcony, he looked at your form. He studied the shape of your nose, your hair, and the way your body curled in order to conserve heat without him. Afraid that his eyes could have been deceiving him earlier, he had to make sure you were still alive. Gently lifting up your arm, he checked your wrist to ensure that you still had a beating pulse underneath it all. He breathed a sigh of relief that what he just experienced was only a nightmare. 

The air outside was cold, cooling the sweat off his skin. Breathing in deeply, Leon could smell the distant aroma of rain, but the moonlight still shined brightly. He breathed in and breathed out, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. He couldn’t get over what he had seen. He was the cause of your ruination. 

Was it selfish to keep you near when he could let you go? How many times will you believe in him? Believe that he will come back unharmed and unfazed? Believe that he could protect you? The world was against him and keeping you on his side would make the world turn against you too. He had to let you go. You deserved someone that wouldn’t let you turn into their worst nightmare. 

—

You awoke to an empty bed. You swore Leon had arrived earlier that night because the bed was still warm from where he laid. You wondered where he was until you heard the slight woosh of the wind from the balcony door. Quietly, you walked to the balcony and saw Leon’s silhouette staring out into the skyline. You knew he had recognized your presence no matter how quiet you tried to keep your steps, for the brutal training he underwent made sure of it. You stood next to him, twiddling with your fingers. For a bit, neither of you made any move to address each other. After a wind spell sent shivers down your spine, you finally turned to him. 

From this angle, you could see a tiny cut on his cheek from his latest mission. You noticed a portion of his left arm was wrapped in bandages, and you longed to gently run your hands over each of his injuries, in the futile hope that your touch would do him any good. His eyes never moved from the skyline, but as you watched him, your thoughts swarmed with concern. Had he really come back to you in one piece?

Leon waited for you to speak first. He knew you were watching him, and he so desperately wanted to break into your golden thinking. He hoped you wouldn’t say something that would make what he was about to do harder, but it was you. No matter what you did, Leon would never be able to break away from you with ease. He would never be able to untangle the invisible thread that connected him to you. Finally, he heard you take a deep breath. 

“I missed you,” you said. It was everything Leon wanted to hear but didn’t want to hear at the same time. Taking a moment to recollect himself, Leon looked at you, and your eyes were beautiful. They were staring right back at him with love, no cloudy vision, and certainly no anger behind them. His breathing slowed, and he opened his arms to motion you into a hug. You didn’t resist and nestled your face into his chest. 

He kissed your head, and hugged you impossibly tighter. “Missed you so much,” he mumbled into your hair. You could hear his heartbeat from where you were, and it eased your thoughts. You closed your eyes and accepted this. Whatever had made Leon come to the balcony didn’t matter as long as you could be with him. Still holding onto you as if you were water slipping from his grasp, you heard him swallow hard. 

“I think we should go our separate ways,” the invisible string suddenly taut between you two. 

You pulled away from him, and he let you go reluctantly. You looked at him as his face scrunched up as if it was painful for him to even say it. 

“What?” you say, your voice impossibly small. Your heart that was once beating steadily was now speeding up. Leon repeated himself, still avoiding your eyes. 

“We’re done,” he says in a tone to bring some finality to it, but his voice cracks. 

You were silent. He waited for a response, an outburst for anything that would indicate what you were feeling. Leon couldn’t help but think he would rather you hate him than get caught up in his affairs. He finally turns to you, and he really looks at you. You were wearing one of his old shirts and pj pants that he was sure were also his considering the way they fit. When he made his way to your face, he now saw what he did. You were crying silently, looking down, the same thing he had done in his nightmare. 

“Why?” You pause for a bit to try and make your voice not waver. “Was it something I did?” 

“No, no of course not,” Leon says, his hands betraying his thoughts by trying to reach for your form. You instinctively move further from him, a movement that panged at Leon’s heart. Leon took a deep breath. 

“I’m ruining you.” His voice was almost inaudible. You finally looked up at him, and you saw he was looking at you too, now. He had tears running down his face, replacing the dried up tears from before. 

“I don’t understand,” you say.  Was your love too much? Had you given him everything and nothing at the same time? Had you become one of his problems?

“I can’t let myself be selfish. You deserve more than me. You deserve-” he paused for a second in an attempt to calm his pounding heart. “You deserve someone better than me.” “Leon, I want you. How could you expect me to move on?” Your voice was soft. 

“How could you expect me to forget you?” 

Your voice was so low, and the tears were streaming down your face. You didn’t want to cry. In the back of your mind, you were always expecting this to end. Everything that was yours becomes a land mine. You just didn’t expect the rain to your parade to come so soon. 

Leon had no answers to your questions because he couldn’t picture himself with anyone else but you. He squeezed his eyes shut. Leaving you was never going to be easy. 

“If you really want to break up with me, look at me in my eyes and tell it to me.” Leon couldn’t. He couldn’t stare at your eyes and tell you a lie that he knew would stab both you and him. 

You knew he couldn’t. Leon could barely look at your eyes throughout this all. You didn’t move your gaze from Leon, daring for him to tell you that he wanted nothing to do with you. 

“Leon, I wanted this. I still want this.” You pause. “I love you, Leon. I never wanted easy. I knew it wouldn’t be. I don’t know what brought this on, but all I do know is that I love you. I can’t picture myself with anyone else.” 

“Please. You have to let me go.” Leon runs a hand through his increasingly messy hair. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“We’re a team! We’ve always been a team, since the beginning. Don’t you get that? We both weren’t expecting to be put in this situation, but we are.” You take a moment to calm your breathing. “I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else.”

“I saw you dead.” He says your name so softly you can barely hear it. “You were a zombie, a zombie carrying our child in your arms. And I couldn’t stand to see you like that, but I also couldn’t kill you. And then you looked up, and you were so angry... So angry towards me.” His face scrunches as if saying this out loud was causing him physical pain. ”Your eyes were dead. I can’t let that happen.”

“It won’t happen if you’re with me.” you say, willing him to believe it, wanting him so desperately to trust you. 

“You can’t possibly believe that.” Leon shakes his head. “I do! Yes, I have some training now, but I feel safest with you. I wouldn’t have survived without you. Are you really so willing to throw that all away?”

Leon didn’t respond. He had no answer because of course not. He would never be able to move on from you. You are his future. 

You were sobbing now. If he really was going to break up with you, then he should see your hurt. You weren’t going to force him to stay if he really wanted to go. 

“Don’t you think I’ve felt the same way? Everytime you go on one of your damn missions, I never know if that’ll be the last time I see you. In the back of my mind, I’m always expecting some random government official letting me know that you died. And it would be my fault because I didn’t go with you.”

Leon looked at you. His eyes pierced through your skin, looking at all the cracks that just barely held you together. It was your turn to avoid eye contact with him. You looked at anything but him because you couldn’t dare deal with having to see the doubts swarm around in his face. Tears rolled down your face, and you think you can see Leon wiping his eyes from the corner of your vision. Still, he has no response, and you’re forced to wait for the impending end to the one real thing you ever had. 

Leon couldn’t go through with this. Your sobs physically pained him. He would rather deal with anything else than hear your cries. He pulled you towards him, and this time you let him. You wracked his chest with sobs. You thrashed against his chest, trying to not let him comfort you. However, you were so tired of being strong, and his arms felt like home. You were wetting his shirt with tears, but you couldn’t force yourself to care. 

“I’d always come back to you,” he mumbles into your hair.

He pulls away slightly. Your eyes are still shut, but your tears have slowed. Slowly, he wipes the tears glittered across your cheeks. Then, you feel his lips kiss every part of your face. He kisses your eyes, your nose, your cheeks. A million ‘I’m sorry’s’ in every kiss. He kisses the stray tears still trailing down your face. He finally says it out loud. 

“I’m sorry.” He kisses your face again and again. “I’m so so stupid. I love you. I love you so much.” His kisses never stop peppering your face. His hands cradling your head delicately, as if one wrong move would make you shatter. 

He stops, and you slowly open your eyes, finally looking directly into his. He was looking at you now too, and you could see he meant everything he said. His eyes were bright from the tears he had just shed, and you’re sure yours looked the same. You smiled at him, and you almost want to laugh. Could it ever be easy this once? He looks beautiful, his hair disheveled from sleep and the wind. 

“Kiss me, Leon.” 

And he does. He’s hesitant at first, afraid of hurting you once more. When he feels your desire, he deepens the kiss. He kisses you as if it was the last time he’d ever get to. He moves down to kiss at your neck, but he never strays too far from your lips. His hands never stop cradling your face.

When you both move away to take a breath, neither of you speak.

You look up at him, finally able to do what you had been aching to do since you first saw him. You traced his fresh scar on his cheek. His eyes closed at the feeling of your hands on his face. You grabbed his hands, checking that he had no stray injury. You moved to his bandaged arm, making sure that the work was done correctly. 

“I’m okay.” Leon meets your gaze. “I promise.” You breathe a sigh of relief before wrapping your arms around his torso. You feel him kiss your hair as his hands bring your body the warmth you crave. 

“Should we go inside? It looks like it’s gonna rain,” your voice still muffled by his chest. The moon was partially covered now by some clouds that looked just about ready to pour. The wind had picked up dramatically, and the little street noise that was there earlier was now completely eradicated into the night. 

“In a minute.” Leon adjusts his arms around you once more. Both of you watch the scenery outside as the wind picks up. He’s still for the most part. You wish you could turn to see his face, try to discern if everything really was okay. Unsurprisingly, it starts to drizzle ever so slightly, and the wind makes the rain hit both of you straight on. Leon still doesn’t make any sign that he wants to head inside. 

Eventually the rain becomes too much for either of you to deal with. He pulls away from you and smiles. The slight rain makes your face glow, and your messy hair makes you look ethereal. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now. He wants to keep this moment forever, but he figures his mind will be enough for him this time. 

“You know, a picture lasts longer right?” You cross your arms around your chest. 

Leon chuckles, and he wraps an arm around you. 

“Let’s go inside. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold now, would we?” he teases. You poke at his side, and he feigns hurt. However, his arm never moves from your shoulder. Before he shuts the balcony door, he gives you one more kiss. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not letting me be stupid.”

You laugh. Hearing your laugh warms his entire body. He wishes he could always have you like this. You smile at him. 

“Of course. What else would I be here for?” you say, and you kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss, and you’re startled by him picking you up and taking you to bed. You wouldn’t change this for the world, you think. After all, you love this curse on your house.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congratulations on the milestone! You more than deserve it, such a talented writer!

I'd like to request a fic for your event. It's been a song stuck in my head for days, "The Alcott" by The National, and the character being Hunter. It's such a beautiful song and I can't wait to see how you interpret it with his character!

Thank you in advance, keep being awesome!

~🥀

Awwww @royalthunderbird that's so sweet of you!

I really hope you enjoy how I interpreted this song. It almost caught me off guard, but I was quite happy with how it turned out. Love The National and I've never heard this song before, so thank you for introducing it to me.

Love oo.

The Alcott

Warnings: Yo-yo relationship, food, declaration of feelings, angst, fluffish. I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

You hadn’t planned on meeting Hunter, well… at least not this time. 

Both of you had been on again, off again so many times it was starting to give you whiplash. Yet, you couldn’t help it. He called and despite how many times you tried to argue, tried to justify not going, you still showed up. 

So there you were in the back of Dex’s Diner, waiting for him while you worked on your next article for HNE. You wrote in your golden notebook, writing out relevant dates and information that you’d need to look into later. 

“You want something honey?” 

You looked up to the waitress droid smiling, “Thanks Flo, could I get a Jamba Juice?”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

You watched her roll away as you focused back on the task at hand. 

Hunter stood outside the diner, just out of your line of sight. He leaned against the concrete building beside him, just watching you. The way you fiddled with the pen in your hand, the way it tapped against your lip, even the way you chewed on the end. A habit you’d been trying to break ever since the first time he met you. 

He let out a light sigh, Maker, you were still so beautiful. You had that smile on your lips, the one that you always wore. 

There was a time when you two first started going out, he asked why you always wore a smile on your face, you simply shrugged and said, “Why not? A lot of people are either having bad days or just haven’t had any sort of kindness in their life. If I can give them a little peace with a smile, then why not?”

He didn’t have a response to that; he just knew he fell in love with you at that moment. 

All he wanted to do was walk up to you, kiss you with all the passion his heart contained for you. To make you his once again, yet … he let out a breath shaking his head. He’d done this to you once too often, starting something only for either his job or yours to get in the way. 

The first time you two broke up, it was a misunderstanding between the two of you, both failing to recognize how you each felt about the other. 

The second time you broke up, it was because Crosshair implied you were only using Hunter to get classified information on the GAR.

The third time was because he misunderstood your relationship with an informant when he saw you holding their hand, simply because you were trying to console them.

Hopefully, this time … this time he could just be honest and tell you without regrets what he wanted. What he’s always wanted. 

He took a deep breath and righted himself, wiping off any visible dust, before he headed inside. 

You jotted down a few more names, as you were now on a roll with your research, questions that popped up that didn’t make sense, answers that were needed.

“H-hi cyare.”

You slowly lifted your head with a smile on your face as soon as you heard his voice, “Hey handsome. You’re late.”

He nodded as he sat, taking off his helmet and placing it on the table beside him, “Yeah, we ran into a little bit of trouble.”

“Oh! Anything good?” You teased as you smiled at him. 

“Hmm, yes and no. More of the fact that our aggressive negotiations took longer than expected.”

“Ahh, did they have better weaponry than you?” You wiggled your eyebrows, putting away your notebook and datapad, back into your satchel. 

“Sweetheart, you should know, no one has better weaponry than me.” He smirked as he looked at you.

You giggled as you nodded, “True. So…” you stopped fidgeting and focused solely on him, “how have you been? It’s been a minute since we actually spoke or even really saw each other.”

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry, about that. Things have gotten hectic the last few months.”

“Anything I should be concerned about?”

“Not that I can think of, but you still have your go-bag ready just in case, right?”

“Always.” You smiled as your head propped on your fist, “You look good.”

“So do you,” Hunter leaned forward, smiling. He was about to ask about your life and how you were doing when Flo came over and asked if they were ready to order. 

Once she was gone, Hunter just let out a contented sigh, as he looked at you. “I think I’m falling back in love with you.”

You looked startled for a moment, pulling back to sit up a little, you didn’t know what to say really. You had never stopped loving him, but … if he was falling back in love with you, then did that mean there were still trust issues between the two of you. What if you got back together and broke up for a fourth time? Could you handle that? What if you get back together and you realize this time you’re the one who’s moved on? What if there’s another misunderstanding, or if one of his other brothers says something that causes doubt in your relationship?

Hunter watched as you fidgeted with your finger against the table. 

Flo came back with your food, leaving it on the table. Even she noticed there was something odd with the intense silence that lingered between the two of you. 

He wanted to speak, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to distract you. He sat there silently, allowing you the time you needed to figure out what to do with what he said … maybe he made a mistake saying he was falling back in love, truth was he’d never fallen out of love with you. This would’ve been his fourth attempt to get back together with you, was he stupid for trying this? Maybe you wouldn’t believe him, when he said he was in love with you. Not that he blamed you.

Was he ruining this again before anything even started?

Was it over before he even got a chance to show you he changed?

He just needed you to look up at him, to smile at him. He just needed your smile. Why did he have to open his mouth?

You took a deep breath, and slowly lifted your eyes to look at him, “You’re falling back in love with me? So… you moved on and now … you’re … what, realizing you’re back in love?”

“No. Rather, I’m realizing, I’ve never stopped loving you. I …” he swallowed the nervousness that was bubbling forth from deep within. He clenched his hands. “I was an idiot. Every one of those times we broke up, it was my fault. I … I didn’t understand what it took to actually be in a relationship, and I know I’m asking a lot from you, by telling you all this, but I don’t want to run away, anymore. I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want to think I’m not good enough… I want to give us a real try.”

You looked at him and Gods, as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t stop that smile from appearing on your lips as you looked into his eyes. What do they say, fourth times a charm?

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[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

My Dear Sweet Home

Self-Aware! Sigma x GN! Reader

Description: You need a helper for one task. You talk.

Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Give Sigma home he deserves

Sequel to Reading to him

Prequel to Art Forgery

Warning: OOC. English is my second language

A/N: Reader from one shot series getting bits of lore. The next part of"We will protect you" will elaborate a little on it.

_______

"[Y/N], do you think, this place will be my home?" Sigma's voice was quiet. You stopped marking the furniture in the catalog and looked at Sigma.

The table before you were covered in furniture catalog. Some of them you already looked through, others were waiting for their hour. Alcott, who brought this catalogs, overdid herself, by bringing two backpacks full of pamphlets.

And it was your job to look through it.

Fitzgerald finally found the house, that was big enough for all of you. And, he offered you to look through the catalogs and looked at the furniture for new house. And you immediately rope Sigma into helping you. His opinion about what to put in the new house deserved to be heard.

You two sat next to each other on the couch, looking through countless furniture catalogs.

Everything went well, until this moment. You were looking through decor part of the catalog, where all this "Home Sweet Home" things were displayed.

And Sigma asked his question. You put pen and catalog down. Sigma was waiting for your answer.

"Beg pardon?" His home? Is Sigma thinking, that you will kick him out? Or forget him in this apartment? He looked sad, nervous. And... hopeless. He looked at you, his eyes looked tired. Sigma point at picture of the house and a building plan.

"Will this place be my home? Will I finally found home?" you didn't answer at first. Sigma spoke again. "I knew, you already have home, so, my question may sound dumb to you, but, please, can you answer me?"

Home... Do you even have a home?

He looked like he was ready to plead. Your own thoughts swarmed your mind. You licked your lips and spoke.

"What is 'home' for you, Sigma? I need to hear it, before I answer your question."

Sigma looked at the distance, thinking.

"It's a place, where I belong. Where I feel safe. Where I can find people, that don't want to use me. Where I can be happy."

You feel tears in your eyes. You try to wipe them as stealthy as you can. In that definition, you also don't have a home anymore. Only a house. Should you share some of it with Sigma?

Not should. You must.

"Then both of us must hope, that new house will be our home, Sigma." your voice was soft. Sigma looked at you, baffled.

"But, this place... And you mentioned your family... Aren't you..."

You laughed. The laugh was hoarse and mixed with sobs. You wipe your tears again. You start talking, slowly, carefully choosing the words.

"My family don't want to see me. Ever since I promised to do something during last family reunion..." You chew your lips. Sigma looked like he wanted to ask more. You elaborate a little. "Nothing Illegal. Moreover, one day, I will be in the right to do it. But, my family didn't want me to do it."

Sigma looked confused.

"What do you want to do?" You looked guilty. But you can't tell him or others right now. You shook your head.

"Sorry. I can't tell for now. It's a long story. Something terrible happened in my childhood. And, what I am planning to do is connected to what happened. I am not ready to tell about it." After a few moments of thinking, you add. "I promise, one day I will tell you and others about my past. But, sorry, not today."

Sigma looked like he wanted to say something, but, he simply nodded, showing, that he understands. You decide to continue your speech about not having a home.

"Ever since I tell them my decision, they constantly remind me, that I am not welcomed in my parent's house. That I am not welcomed in any family gathering." You take a breath. "Mom doesn't agree with then, but, there are too many of them. And every call with them ends in futile attempts to make me change my decision."

You looked at Sigma again.

"So, I don't belong, I don't feel safe, people want to use me, and I am not happy. I don't have a home. And that" you slap one of the walls. "I am renting this place, and, I don't think I will stay here, after I graduate."

You leaned back on the couch. You were silent. The familiar sense of loneliness crept into your soul. You forced yourself to speak.

"I hope that new house will be a home to you, Sigma. And that it will become my home as well."

You reached out to Sigma, taking his hand in yours.

"I hope, that we will find our home. Both as in a place, and as in people."

Sigma scoots closer to you. He gave you a side hug and put his chin on your head. He squeezed your hand.

"I... Back in the app... I hoped that my home will be next to you. And I think, that's how it will be. [Y/N], let's find our new home together."

You turned your face a little and nuzzle his neck. On a whim, you kissed his cheek.

"Deal, Sigma."

Sigma chuckled.

"No problem, Cookie Heart."

You chocked on air. How did he call you? You feel, how your cheeks became warmer.

Noticing your face expression, Sigma blushes.

"Sorry! Just... All of us have a nickname for you, besides Guiding Light. And, I thought that moment was appropriate..."

You blinked a few times and smiled.

"Don't worry. If you want, you can call me that." you mentally repeated your new nickname.

'Cookie Heart... Cute'

The moment between you and Sigma were interrupted by Steinbeck's voice, who called from the kitchen.

"Sigma, [Y/N], are you going to join us for lunch? Or you two decide to skip lunch and bury your noses in the catalogs?"

You and Sigma glance at each other. Then Sigma stands up.

"We are coming. Shall we, Cookie Heart?" he held his hand towards you. You took it.

"We shall... Sigma, I want to promise you something." You looked at the former casino manager. Sigma raise an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak.

"I promise, that I will never ask you to use your ability. Friends don't use each other. Family don't use each other."

Sigma didn't look surprised. He hugged you.

"I knew, that you will say this. Back then, you also promised that I won't be used."

You stay like this for some time. After another shout from the kitchen from John, wondering if the 'two turtles get lost', you two finally go to the kitchen.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Vacation adventures, a summary

Stayed with my friend whom I hadn't seen in three years. She is amazing and I can't believe that a) she's a real person and b) she is in fact voluntarily friends with me, even after all this time.

Made it on to the commuter train despite both of us sleeping through our alarms. We were stuck in the vicinity of a woman who was bent on loudly telling the world the Painful Story of Her Life, but still. a train! It was exciting.

Took the subway to our destination and emerged into Historic City, which is beautiful. Flowers on the lampposts. Buildings with character. We wandered through parks and gardens and saw statuary and geese and absorbed atmosphere.

Went to the public library, which is full of murals and has a courtyard with a fountain. Imagine working in a library like that.

Went to two art musuems (one with an unattainable beautiful courtyard, an image which has been following me through life) and wore our legs out wandering among wonders. I got to see the Little Dancer, which made my younger self very happy.

Went to church with my friend and survived a social event she had to go to with church people. It went better than I thought; they actually said more to me in an evening than most people at the church I currently go to have in over a year and a half.

Went to a vintage-style dress shop and bought a dress with a book print.

Ate lemon curd ice cream with lemon bars in it while looking out over the water near a picturesque town.

Watched three movie versions of Little Women over two nights and critiqued them as prepration for when we...

Went to Orchard House. Fantastic experience, loved getting to know more about the Alcotts through this tangible means. We also drove past some other houses in Concord where they lived.

Bought sandwiches and had a lowkey picnic near the town visitor center.

Went to a charming used bookstore where, when I told the lady that I was buying a map as a gift for my dad in a faraway city, she took the trouble to find a flattened box to encase the map in for travel. (There were a lot of nice people in this area.)

Tracked down the Alcott family's gravesite and left a pencil on Louisa's headstone alongside the many other pens and pencils left there.

Tried to go to Walden Pond but it was too happening a place for any more people to be let through. Maybe next time. But the surrounding area and what I could see through the trees was gorgeous.

Prowled my friend's town while she was at work. The library is so very grand for such a small place, and there's a lovely lake too.

Took a bus on a whim despite the lack of a clearly marked bus stop and went to a bookstore in another town.

Went to another bookstore in the afternoon and sat outside reading until my friend got off work and I walked to meet up with her.

Explored the pond that contains deep below its surface an animatronic white whale leftover from a long-defunct amusement park. The whale isn't visible, of course, but we found the tracks used to move an animatronic rhinoceros that was part of the ride, and the ramp that was used to launch the whale into the water. It was like extremely hands-off archaeology, if archaeology consisted of hoping you'll bump into relics of the past with no effort (the pond is in an office park, and we didn't want to get in trouble for meddling with the property).

Took the bus again and went to a comics shop and raised comment by systematically going through an enormous unsorted $1 bin for literally hours. Worth it.

Took my friend to dinner at an Italian place built into the side of a hill with no apparent parking space and a grand total of three dining tables inside. The food was delicious.

Talked a lot, listened a lot, hugged a lot. I haven't been so not stressed out or not simmeringly angry in a long time. It was very refreshing and exactly what I needed and I am so glad and grateful that it worked out.

[r0semaryt3a]

Masterlist

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I finally have a masterlist lol, this will basically cover what/who I will/won’t write for or about + have my req status

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Requests - open

Alt sites:

Ao3

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Tad bit of an introduction before I get into anything:

Evening, you can call me Vincent! I go by they/she and have been writing for a good while (at least as long as I could pick up a pen). My sister’s been using tumblr for a while and after a rocky patch of my life I decided to pick it up myself. With my passion for writing I’d be more than ecstatic to write all sorts of requests!

(I’m currently trudging through an old wip of mine by the title of “wings of an Angel” so all requests will be scheduled around that alongside my actual life)

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Existing works - awaiting content

(Characters present in brackets are character written for)

Phantom Troupe - CLOSED ATM

(Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks, Shalnark, Machi, Pakunoda + Uvogin, Hisoka, Illumi if specified)

╰┈➤

Going on a date

Sleeping in the same bed

Lgbt headcannons

S/O hugging them for the first time

Soulmate au

Pillow fight - pending

The Guild

(Francis Scott.K Fitzgerald, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Mark Twain, Margaret Mitchel, John Steinbeck, H.P Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Louisa May Alcott, Lucy Maud)

╰┈➤ content pending

SK8 adults

(Cherry Blossom/Kaoru Sakurayashiki, Joe/Kojiro Nanjo, Adam/Ainsouke Shindo, Snake/Tadashi Kikuchi, Kiriko Kamata)

╰┈➤

Lgbt headcannons

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Individual character work

Chrollo

╰┈➤ Vampire Chrollo x Reader - pending

Feitan

╰┈➤ Feitan with a picky eater S/O - pending

Phinks

╰┈➤ content pending

Shalnark

╰┈➤ content pending

Machi

╰┈➤ content pending

Pakunoda

╰┈➤ content pending

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Francis Scott.K Fitzgerald

╰┈➤ content pending

Nathaniel Hawthorne

╰┈➤ content pending

Margaret Mitchell

╰┈➤ content pending

John Steinbeck

╰┈➤ content pending

H.P Lovecraft

╰┈➤ content pending

Mark Twain

╰┈➤ content pending

Edgar Allan Poe

╰┈➤ content pending

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Cherry/Kaoru Sakurayashiki

╰┈➤ content pending

Joe/Kojiro Nanjo

╰┈➤ content pending

Adam/Ainsouke Shindo

╰┈➤ content pending

Snake/Tadashi Kikuchi

╰┈➤ content pending

Kiriko Kamata

╰┈➤ content pending

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Wills/Won’ts

You can pretty much ask for whatever in terms of requests. Most of my currently posted works are headcannons but I’m all for individual oneshots!

I’ll make it clear here that if there are specific characters you want me to prioritise in asks (as I’m not always guaranteed to add them all) please specify in the request!! (+ I’ll make sure to try my best to add a little extra something to their section <3)

Also note that previous point doesn’t apply to SK8 I will always add them all in

Obviously, the usual spiel of offensive or problematic content (ie: child x adult) are absolute no nos but in terms of personal preference? My real won’ts have to be:

Nsfw content - this is for many reasons, the main one being that it makes me uncomfortable

Infidelity/cheating - this is mainly in place for characters like Francis who already canonically have partners but for any romantic requests: no disloyalty should be afoot. (On the note of Francis anytime I write for him will be under the guise that Zelda is A) dead B) doesn’t exist or C) divorced)

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With all that done and said never be afraid to send over a request <3

[artist-issues]

if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

Read:

The Abolition of Man- C. S. Lewis

Anne of Green Gables - L.M. Montgomery

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - Anne Brontë

The Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis

The Were-Wolf - Clemence Housman

Invisible Ink - Brian McDonald

Watch:

Lilo & Stitch (2002)

Signs (2002)

Beauty & the Beast (1991)

Rebel Without a Cause (1955)

Sunset Boulevard (1950)

Saving Mr. Banks (2013)

Cinderella (2015)

East of Eden (1955)

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

Listen To:

Blue Flower - The Gray Havens

Addict With a Pen - Twenty One Pilots

Heavydirtysoul - Twenty One Pilots

Vignette - Twenty One Oilots

Holding Onto You - Twenty One Pilots

Hometown - Twenty One Pilots

The Producer - Travis Whittaker & Tyler Joseph

Washed By the Water - Needtobreathe

How It Sets You Free - Gable Price & Friends

I Need You - Gable Price & Friends

Dust - Kings Kaleidoscope

Do Not - John Rueben

[mystically-yours]

"there have been an influx of love letters circulating across the devildom, and all is signed under such pen name. so tell us, eden, who are you?" "a messenger," eden hums. " one for lovesick fools."

⋮ ⌗THE PERSON BEHIND THE WAX SEAL

⤹ SIGNED, EDEN — adult (around '00s). they/them pronouns. south-east asian. aquarius sun, gemini moon. intj-t. full-time student, part-time daydreamer. wannabe arts major/bound to STEM.

⤹ MX. JURISPRUDENCE — "It's not like in the movies. It's better, because it's real." — 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' by Jenny Han

⋮ ⌗ON WEDNESDAYS, WE WAVE THROUGH A WINDOW

⤹ YES, YES & YES — my mooties (ride or dies). my irl friends and family. musical and performance arts. autumn/winter. medicine, history and mythology. writing (yapping). romantic comedies and tragedies.

⤹ KEPT IN A BOX — "to all the boys i've loved before" by jenny han. "and then there were none" by agatha christie. "falling into place" by amy zang. "circe" by madeline miller. "little women" by louisa may alcott.

⤹ NO NO!! NEVER!! — any form of discourse or bigotry. cockroaches. loud noises.

⤹ HONEY, CUE THE RADIO — strike whilst the iron is hot, orange & lemons. hexagonal, shirebound & busking. bored, laufey. timezone, maneskin. sex with a ghost, teddy hyde. red wine supernova, chappell roan. captivated, iv of spades. goodbye my danish sweetheart, mitski.

⤹ ALWAYS AND FOREVER — solomon + eden = soloden. simeon + eden = emeon. barbatos + eden = barbaden.

updated on 28.10.24 | star dividers by @issysh3ll

[writing-on-a-bathroom-stall]

the alcott (could it be easy?)

ellie williams x writer!reader

modern au !!!

cw: use of y/n, cursing, DRAMATIC ass lesbians, this is actually fucking terrible don't read it oh my god !!! first time writing so pls pls pls be nice.

NOT PROOFREAD DONT BE MEAN TO ME !!!

you hummed gently to yourself as you continued to write in you journal. writing poetry had always seemed cringy until you realized how happy it made you. and how it made it so easy to express your emotions through little poems and writing drabbles. maybe that's why you were writing about the girl that always seemed to be on your mind.

ellie williams, your best friend, who you hadn't spoken to for...what was it? three weeks by now. she hadn't been talking to you. ignoring your calls, your texts, everything. but this wasn't exactly...unusual for ellie. every so often she would do this and then just randomly message you and act like nothing had ever happened. of course, you had just assumed the same thing was happening.

but that's where this time was different. she didn't message you and pretend nothing happened. she had actually sent a rather weird message.

els<3:

meet me at our coffee shop on 8th avenue

tomorrow at 12:30

please.

of course, you had said sure. but in reality you were really confused. this had never happened before. 

so this morning you woke up, got ready, and headed to the cafe. you sat in the back corner, where you always sat. and waited. at exactly 12:30, you heard the door open, and you knew who it was without even looking up. you continued writing in your notebook, until the auburn haired girl slid into the booth across from you. 

she sat their silently for a second. and you looked up at the freckled face you'd come to know so well. you smiled up at her. 

"hi." you stated plainly. tilting your head at the girl.

"hey," she breathed out nervously. rubbing her arm. "look, y/n, i'm really sorry it's just-"

you cut her off gently. "ellie, did i do something wrong? the last thing i want is for us to not talk, els. you know that. so if i did something just tell me." 

her eyes widened in surprised, "no, that's not it," she insisted. "it's my fault, you didn't...you didn't do anything." she breathed out, closing her eyes to gather her thoughts

you fiddled with the pen in your hand nervously. 

"i just...you know you're my best friend right? i tell you everything." she said, meeting your confused gaze. 

you thought ellie told you everything, but something tugged at you. she didn't. she usually told you all of her problems, but in the weeks before she had ghosted you, she hadn't been telling you everything. you couldn't explain how, but you just knew it. 

you didn't exactly tell her everything either so, who were you to judge? 

"you're my best friend too, els." you said, quietly.

ellie was your best friend. but that didn't explain why it hurt so bad when she stopped talking to you. you tried to convince yourself it was completely platonic but, that wasn't the complete truth. you were a little bit in love with the girl in front of you, you had to admit. 

ellie let out a sigh, you couldn't tell if it was of relief or sadness. you weren't sure if you wanted to know. her eyes roamed the room in front of her, looking at everything except you. 

"ellie, what's this about?" you finally asked. the green eyes you were so fond of locked on you. 

"i don't think we can do this anymore, y/n." she stated, bluntly. 

"what?" you said quickly, looking up at her confused. "what do you mean?" you furrowed your brows.

"we can't be friends y/n. we just can't. i can't." she said, upset. she tapped her foot against the ground like she always did when she was frustrated. 

"ellie, why-" you started before you were cut off. 

"because y/n!" she said, exasperated. "because i can't do this anymore. i can't pretend anymore." 

pretend. you thought. you thought of every time you'd talked to ellie. trying to think of what could've made her want to do this, to break off your friendship. you practically let the girl walk all over you, as long as she was happy. as long as she stayed.

what could've gone wrong? you asked yourself. 

"pretend what?"

"pretend that i'm not in love with you." 

oh. oh. 

you didn't completely process the words before ellie was standing up. she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, as if that wasn't something she had wanted to say. she stepped back.

"i'm sorry, y/n-" she turned and walked away. to the front door. you watched her open the door and step onto the street. 

before you knew what you were doing you were practically running to catch up with the girl. 

"ellie- wait-" you panted, trying to catch your breath. 

she turned towards you. "y/n-"

before she could finish the sentence, your lips met hers in a kiss. and she instinctively cupped your face in her hands. 

her lips were soft, not like you had imagined how they'd feel or anything, and tasted like the vanilla chapstick you knew she wore. 

you pulled back from the kiss and stared into her eyes. "i love you, els." you said.

she smiled at you, before gently leaning in and kissing you again.

authors note: this is actually terrible please don't hate me for this. this is my first time posting my writing EVER so pls be nice to me. i'm actually so scared.

[the-guilds-strategist]

Louisa Headcanons!!

She has DPD (Dependent Personality Disorder) and extreme Social Anxiety.

She likes to keep small potted plants.

She grew up in a nice house the country, hence why she likes it so much.

She would often spend her time in that house out in the gardens, she thought they were very nice.

When she has freetime, she occasionally likes to write short Gothic horror stories (like the real life Alcott did under a pen name).

As Lucy says in the main series, she hasn't ever used her ability for herself. When she was younger, her parents would pressure her to use her ability to benefit them. Also, she had an older brother who would make her do his homework because she could do it quickly with her ability and she "didn't have much better to do."

Sometimes when using her ability, she loses track of time and forgets to take care of herself. She might have to be remidned when using it sometimes that she needs to eat.

^ That only contributes to her fear of not being able to take care of herself on her own, which is caused by her DPD.

She looks up to Poe and views him almost like an older brother figure.

She also looks up to Fitzgerald a lot and views him almost like a father figure!

She's easily startled and very loud noises break her concentration and stop her ability when she's trying to use it.

Since her ability causes time to progress differently for only her, she feels older than she is. This causes her to occasionally think that her body doesn't quite fully fit her.

Despite being able to make many plans, she has a difficult time choosing between them on her own.

She has carpal tunnel!

Since she doesn't think of herself as valuable, she has trouble accepting help because she doesn't want to bother people.

She's a questioning lesbian.

She often wishes that she could reach out to people more, but she finds it very scary since she gets so anxious.

She sometimes pulls all-nighters due to losing track of time.

She makes amazing coffee.

@kijimha @duckduckgoose-exe

[hoshinoyozora]

The Mermaid’s Demon

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Jade Leech x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count:

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Reading A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott and hhgghh let’s just say the antagonist really inspired me to write this.

“I’m neither good nor bad. I’m simply an adaptable person.”

Was Jade’s cavalier reply as you hunched over the bodies on the sea floor. Your poor, pitiful parents who had been adamant not to marry you off to him just to repay their humongous debt, now had to exchange it for something much more valuable than your consent. Your brother, who had tried to protect you behind his valiant body, eventually succumbed to the same fate as your parents.

It wasn’t their fault. Jade simply had the advantage of having magic, on top of his vast and frightening influence to restrict your family from any possible exit.

In your tearful rage you’d called him ‘evil’, but Jade defended himself with the confounding easiness and the contemptible amusement of a man who didn’t fear the consequences of his actions. He might as well find joy in them, for he abhorred predictability beneath his unruffled demeanor.

“And your parents failed to repay their debt, so it’s unfair for you to accuse me of being ‘evil’.” he paused, then smiled. The sadistic glow in his eyes overshadowed his bioluminescent body, and you wondered if he was the demon that you overheard so many humans feared. “Don’t you think so, Wife?”

“No, I will not be your wife! I refuse!”

“Your parents said that, and look at where it led them. Perhaps you haven’t learned the lesson yet?”

He grinned wickedly, showing off a row of sharp teeth. It was a sight that spooked you more than facing a shark head-on, for a mindless beast was still better than an astute criminal. Still, you dug your nails into the sand and fought the urge to cower.

“Well?”

“Screw you.” you hissed. “I’d rather die than marrying you.”

The grin vanished, and you almost preferred it to stay for his seriousness forebode misfortune upon your already wretched self.

“Do you even know what you’re saying right now?”

You gulped, but you remained steadfast.

Jade closed his eyes and shrugged.

“Alright, if that’s what my wife wants.”

A flash of light, and your ears rang as you slowly felt yourself falling onto the sand. Glancing to your left, you saw a wisp of blood floating like a crimson ghost. Your hand went to touch your side, and pain shot up to your spine.

It hurt.

“I’m not the most merciful person, but I ask you again.”

You looked up, discerning Jade hovered over you with his magic pen poised.

Did he just… shoot you with his magic?

“Do you really want to die?”

You gaped at him, still stunned.

“Even if you refuse to answer, you’ll still die from either bleeding or eaten by other fish.”

Sadly, you had no time to answer for your consciousness failed you, and you were left under his complete mercy.

***

“Good morning, Wife.”

Jade’s simper was the first thing to greet you as you fluttered your eyes open. A bandage around your stomach hindered your movement slightly, but he helped you rest against the headboard.

“Where am I?” you rasped, scanning the cold and spacious room.

He hummed and handed you a glass of water, affirming your suspicion of his ownership.

“Why, you’re in our room, of course.”

You glared at him through the rim of the glass.

“Father isn’t very pleased about my choice to marry you, but I’m sure he’ll change his mind once he meets you.”

“And what if he won’t?”

Jade shrugged.

“Then, there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“You’re awfully persistent.” you hissed. “I don’t even know you beyond being a debt collector and my family’s murderer.”

“Still sensitive about it, aren’t we?” he sneered, arousing the indignation that lay dormant from your faint. “Let’s just say, fiery people pique my fancy, because they make docile spouses once handled properly.”

You ground your teeth.

“You will not break my spirit.”

Jade chuckled.

“That’s alright. I love the chase as well. I think it adds to the romance,” The sadistic glow in his eyes returned, and though he was a regular merman in the eyes of the humans, he was a demon in yours. “and it makes the reward all the sweeter.”

[veronicaleighauthor]

I was only allowed twelve answers and tried to include her best-known works. Alcott was a prodigious writer. Her published pieces continue to be rediscovered, under her own name and pen names like A. M. Banard. If I missed your favorite, please say so in the reblogs, comments, or tags. Let us celebrate Alcott and remember her contribution to the written word!