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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: thisapplepielife! @thisapplepielife has 37 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 24 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @thisapplepielife:

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind

Take the Money and Run

You Oughta Know

Never Not Mine

Let the Boy Be Merry

"They are my favorite Corroded Coffin writer. I found by accident their fic “Tuesday's Gone With the Wind” and loved everything they wrote since!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @thisapplepielife answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Steve Harrington. I found myself not connecting with S4 when it premiered, and decided that I probably just needed to rewatch the other three seasons again first, since it'd been a while between seasons. Well, Steve was always my favorite, but I left that re-watch with his voice fully lodged in my brain. So, I had to write something for him, just for myself. That was You Oughta Know. We all knew Eddie identified as a runner, and that just felt like the story to tell. Then somehow, for some unknown reason that I still cannot possibly explain, I decided to actually post it. I still don't know what possessed me to do that, honestly.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good second chance fic: A divorced couple that eventually rekindles. A missed first chance that they get to take another crack at, later in life. I also like a good heartbreaker of a fic. I know, I know. Don't get me wrong, I still love happy endings, but I don't require them. Break my heart. Do it.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Slice of life? Is that considered a trope? I know I like to write about things we all deal with in real life, from the small and inconsequential: a mattress with a bad spring. The delight of clean sheets. Or the bigger: the real life heartbreak of unavoidable loss and grief. And older Steddie is my favorite, I think. I love to spend time writing for them. These boys that turned into men, who made a full life together, and it's great. Maybe not perfect. But they wouldn't trade it for the world. That makes me happiest.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake is the one I think of that grabbed me first, and did not let go. I still need to read the final part of the trilogy! My fic TBR is so, so long because I definitely struggle with writing and reading at the same time. I know there is amazing work out there that I've just never read yet. But I look forward to it, absolutely. It's just something I've never figured out how to manage well. Joining Tumblr has helped that immensely, though! Reading the shorter fics here has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed it so much. There are amazing things being posted every single day! And I gotta say that don't start (too late) by Ark is one of the best "first time" fics I've ever read in any fandom. Eddie's inner voice is wonderful. I believe every word he thinks while he experiences this brand new thing with Steve.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

It's not brand new to me, but there's a found family one that I've been tinkering with for a very long time, and that excites me. And I do love events for tossing me situations or prompts to write for that I may not have thought of, independently. @steddiemicrofic especially has been so, so fun. I think it was the very first event I wrote for on Tumblr, and the challenge of having a very limited amount of words, but still trying to make it feel like a whole story has been told, has been a blast. Thanks to @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes for challenging us all each month!

What is your writing process like?

I don't outline or anything. I just write, and edit, as I go. And I'll edit obsessively. I'll tweak and change small things over and over, ad nauseam. And even then, I know I still miss mistakes. But my mistakes are my own, I have no beta, because I kind of like being solely responsible for anything I write. Right or wrong. Here it is, take it or leave it. I also talk things through things in my own head a lot, especially dialogue, or I'll open a document, and just see where that takes me. And if I'm writing a long fic, like Tuesday's, I write totally out of order when scenes come to me. I wrote on every single year of that fic all at once. Then kept writing until they'd stitched themselves together into a full story. That's my last part of writing. Putting in the transitions from one scene to the next, when needed. Sometimes ideas are more fully formed before I start putting words to the page, and other times I literally just start and figure it out as I go. There's one fic I wrote for Steddiemas last year where I sat Steve down at a mall food court and then just started writing. I had no idea what that was going to be. (It was Eddie turning up as the Mall Santa.) Also: Research, research, research. I love the research aspect of writing. I'm curious in general, and if I can even think to look something up to see if it's true, or of the right time period, I will. And I like to add mixed media to my fics. That was a huge part of Take the Money & Tuesday's. All the newspaper articles and such. I felt like they were needed to make it feel like this really happened to these characters we all love so much. I did newspaper articles all throughout writing Tuesday's. In fact, I think that main article, the one at the top, was written and designed very early on in the writing process. They weren't all done at the end, they were done as the story needed them.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Short paragraphs. I love 'em. You'll pry them from my cold, dead fingers. Also see: Long sentences. Honestly, I do like to throw out the rules, a bit. I write by feel. How does it sound, to my own ear? If it works, for my character, my fic or just me in general, I'll use it. "Don't use two "ands" in a sentence." Okay, but sometimes I'm gonna when that flows the best. Or: "That's a run-on." Okay, but I like the way it reads. "You don't need a comma there." But, I like the way that it breathes, so it's getting one. All this is especially true if writing from someone's POV. I know I don't always think in proper grammar, and I don't expect them to either. I don't want things to feel hard to read, but I do want them to feel natural. If that makes sense. I walk around, pacing as I write or edit on my phone, as if the moving somehow lets me see it differently. I think it does! And I don't know if this is a quirk, but some of the characterizations formed while writing Tuesday's have stuck, hard. Gareth is Gareth Jones, and where you find him, you'll probably find Di. Freak is Goodie. Jeff is Jeff Williams. These things have been decided in my brain, and now I feel compelled to take them with me, fic-to-fic. I didn't intend to build a headcanon I wouldn't be able to shake, but here we are. I feel like I can transplant Steve and Eddie anywhere, into anything, and be comfortable changing things up. But the Corroded Coffin boys are cemented, as they were created, for the most part. Maybe that's because I did have to do so much shaping for them. Steve and Eddie, we know. We're all working off a decent amount of canon content. Corroded Coffin only had a few moments on screen to help flesh any of us flesh them out into real characters. And now that I've made my choices, for good or bad, they're here to stay.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Finished, definitely. My three long fics were all mostly written before I started posting, and I still struggled to get the last part of All of Across the Universe out in a timely fashion. Tuesday's was posted over one week, one chapter per day, and I really enjoyed that fast schedule. It didn't give me any extra time to overthink the finished product. It was going out, and that was that. I had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I deemed it finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. I truly thought I was done after Take the Money and Run. And then this idea slapped me in the face, and I spent five months just lost in their world. These versions of the characters came so naturally, and they are still with me today. I feel like most of what I've written since then is shaped by those versions. Also, that was the last fic I wrote without anything else coming down the pipe. The last one before I joined Tumblr. The last one that had my full, and utter, undivided attention. It's really special to me, and I'm beyond grateful to everyone that has embraced it and recommended it to friends. I know it's got some scary warnings, but for those that have dove in and let me know that it spoke to you in some way, you've made me so happy. It spoke to me, too.

How did you get the idea for Tuesday's Gone With the Wind?

By watching the documentary "If I Leave Here Tomorrow" about the band Lynyrd Skynyrd. As I was watching it, there was an interview section where one of the band members spoke about their assistant road manager, saying: "He was like a bartender roadie. Where he took care of us really good, you know? Anybody who was sick, or needed a little more attention, he was just there for you. He was like the big brother, and sister, and your mama and everything." My brain whispered, Steve Harrington. And that was that. Corroded Coffin were going to get Road Manager Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take care of them as they headed towards this unavoidable disaster. I wrote like 5k words the first night. It was just in there, waiting to spill out, somehow. And I think it's also an anomaly for me, but I'm fairly certain I started that fic with what turned out to be the opening. That first bit of Eddie's first interview section. I think that's where I started telling the story, and it held throughout. That's pretty rare for me. (Fun fact: I wrote all the interview bits in a separate document, and then just fit and tweaked them into the story, as needed. But not that opening. That was the launch pad into everything else.)

When writing Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, what was something you didn’t expect?

It's not exactly a Steddie answer, but - Gareth! Gareth Jones, my beloved. I wasn't on Tumblr when I wrote Tuesday's or any other social media in a fandom way. I was in my own bubble, doing my own thing. So, I didn't know the fandom had given him a fanon surname. I chose my own, and now he's just Gareth Jones to me, and always will be. He's also Eddie's best friend. I've pondered on more than one occasion on if Take the Money and Run would be different if I knew that first, lol. Just exploring my version of a character that had so little screen time to work off was incredibly fun. And has remained fun. Gareth is definitely gonna show up again in my future works. He's to Eddie, as Robin is to Steve in my head now and forevermore.

What inspired Take the Money and Run?

These lyrics from the song "Me and Paul" by Willie Nelson: Almost busted in Laredo But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose But if you're staying in a motel there and leave Just don't leave nothing in your clothes I had a literal shower thought that made me laugh. And thought, well, why are they even in a motel? Oh, they must be on a road trip. So, I wrote that little scene mainly in my head, but jotted it down, just in case, and assumed that was the end of it. But then I just kept writing it. Until I was knee deep in maps and mileage and research trying to figure this road trip out from a logistics standpoint. All because I thought it'd be funny if Eddie left weed in his pants and Steve got all put upon because of it.

What was your favorite part to write from You Oughta Know?

I loved getting to include all the fun 90s things, since that's when I was a teen, and can remember a lot of it very distinctly, first-hand. And I loved getting to use El's powers to look in on Eddie, so while they might not know where he is, they did know that he seemed to be doing okay out there in the world. Also, if I could go back and change one thing about it, I'd fix that I said Eddie's never had an acoustic guitar. I didn't notice his acoustic in his room until my re-watch. Oh well. This version of Eddie didn't, I guess, lol. (This might be from the second part, Eddie's POV. But still. It's my Roman Empire. I think of this mistake at least once a week and beat myself up. If I'd been on Tumblr at the time, I feel this would have never happened, because someone would have blogged about it, drawing my attention to it, surely.)

How do/did you feel writing Never Not Mine?

This one is heavily inspired by the Taylor Swift song imgonnagetyouback. It was fun to dig into a slightly angstier world for a bit. Because things don't always work out, or if they do, not always the first time around. I like to think they'll find each other again, in any universe, but they might not take the easiest path. They aren't perfect, and that's realistic.

What was the most difficult part of writing Let the Boy Be Merry?

Crying while writing it. This one slapped me around a little while writing. Life isn't always as romantic as fic leads us all to believe which, the audacity, honestly, lol, but the kind of love and relationship in this fic? That feels real to me. Old, and familiar, and even as well as you know a person, you can't read their mind. You don't always get what the other needs immediately, you don't get how important things can be to them, but figuring out how to compromise is love. Real, lasting love.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This question was hard! I'm gonna pick two from Tuesday's: For the first, I cried while writing and then cried again while editing the scene where Eddie and Steve hash out how serious their relationship is, and realize they've kind of been on different pages. There are two scenes in Tuesday's that got to me, and made me cry while writing them, over and over, and I don't even know why. (The other is Gareth picking that fight with Steve. Yeah, yeah, I know. Neither of these parts are the saddest parts of Tuesday's. But they stripped me raw, for whatever reason.) And a second, more fun, favorite: I'm gonna go with the scene where Eddie's naked and tripping on mushrooms in the backyard while Steve hangs out with him, and Eddie thinks they've written "Tom Sawyer" by Rush. That was so fun, and just a feel good write, if that makes sense. That whole summer they spent at the lake I look back on writing fondly. They are so in love there. They are all happy. And this scene is carefree in a way that they won't always be, due to circumstances coming down the pipe.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I run @corrodedcoffinfest and I've got a whole list of planned pop-up events coming up over the next few months for that. Steddie is absolutely welcome, so if anyone would like a little more Corroded Coffin works in their life, consider coming to join us! I also finally updated my masterlist, so everything I've written for Stranger Things is finally gathered together. There's a lot that's still only on Tumblr and not on Ao3 at this point.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thanks so much for including me and my works in this! And to the person who nominated me, thank you, thank you! You really made my day. It was fun to think about these fics again, and answer these questions. I've really enjoyed writing for Steddie, and I've also enjoyed making friends in the fandom. Thanks for welcoming me. Thanks for showing my fics love, and commenting or leaving kudos or reblogging. Just, thank you all so much. And I'm sorry if these answers were too long, lol. As a habitual "end notes" kind of writer, that's just the way I roll.

Thank you to our author, @thisapplepielife, and our anonymous nominator! See more of thisapplepielife's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things

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rafesbabyg1rl · 1 day ago

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The Watcher ~ Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!

For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.

One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.

At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you.

See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.

Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you.

Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.

Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…and how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.

What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about.

Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? nOh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.

One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly.

Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control.

“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.

You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now.

You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.

“W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you.

The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”. If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home.

“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”

“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”

Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.”

He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself.

“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is.

“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep.

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?

“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”

“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash.

“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”

“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.

“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”

“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you.

“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined.

“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet.

“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions.

“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up.

A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”

Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?”

He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.

“Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him.

With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do.

As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.

You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen.

You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything?

You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.

He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you.

Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue.

You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.

He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.

As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there.

Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.

He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans.

Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.

With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.

Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.

You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm.

The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason.

While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure.

He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him. He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!

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ikamigami · 1 day ago

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Nxbxbbcbcbcbnxbxbxn

Today's episode heavy breathing was just everything

Moon shouldn't wait till Sun run away to go to him..

But I think that he just needed some time to think what to say..

Cause I knew it! He said to Solar that he said what was needed to be said.. which definitely implies that Moon was afraid that he'll say something insensitive or start yelling at Sun bxbxbxbbxbx

He didn't want that..

And yeeeessss Moon finally realized that no one expects him to fix everything QwQ

And that Sun doesn't need him.. and even if Moon might have said that because he hates himself..

I think that in this situation he meant that Sun isn't going to die without Moon because he's so dumb etc..

I think that Moon finally distanced himself from.. himself.. (edit: cause actually yeah after thinking about it more it really was more about how Moon hates himself and that Nexus was better and that Sun shouldn't choose him but Nexus that's why he said that Sun doesn't need him nxnxnnxnxnxn I was happy too quickly QwQ)

Hdndnndndnndndndn

Which allowed him to see Sun for who he is.. for how awesome brother Sun is.. and to why Sun loves Nexus and that's why he said that he would still be Sun's brother even if Sun loved Nexus more than him and even if Sun chose Nexus to live because he regretted killing Nexus bxbxbxbbxbxb QwQ

I'm so happy that despite Moon being afraid to be left by Sun he put Sun's feelings first.. he was considerate about Sun's feelings QwQ bxbxnxnnxnxnxn

Moon really is trying his best.. it makes me so emotional QwQ 💞

Also Lunar whyyyyy jxnxnxnxnnx

Yes Sun shouldn't be held captive but Lunar should still know where Sun is or if he's away for a long time he should call him or something..

Like Sun shouldn't go out or be left alone for too long.. not in this state..

I hope that Solar and Moon will have a talk and Moon will apologize for getting to upset at Solar especially cause Solar told him such a nice thing and he was right that Sun needed to talk to Moon QwQ

And now onto Sun..

Hooo boi..

Sun can't hate Nexus which is not surprising to me at all..

And ofc Sun said that maybe he doesn't need Moon but he wants him in his life.. which I always knew..

And I think that this is exactly what Dark Sun was unable to understand.. or maybe he understood this while talking with Moon?

But at the same time I'm still angry that he traumatised Sun so much with forcing him to choose to kill his brother and that I think that he knew that Ruin put that bomb in Nexus' chest which is why Sun's magic killed Nexus bxbxbbxbddn

But the most important part I wanted to point out from today's episode is that Sun didn't agreed nor accept Moon's words of support nxnxnnxnxnxnxnxn

Which means that Sun doesn't agree with Moon that he's a good brother QwQ

He also still doesn't want to shout out what weigh on him..

And he didn't thank Moon bxbxbbx

Cause I think that Nexus' words truly felt like proof to Sun.. proof that he's a terrible person actually..

This is so awfully relatable..

Cause at first I thought that maybe it'll be the time for Sun to open up but noooo

And it's so relatable QwQ

Sun wanted to have Moon as a brother.. he wanted to have Nexus as a brother.. he wanted to have a family..

Damn it QwQ

And I only say that Nexus is damn liar xnnxnxnnxnxn (cause I watched the podcast)

I think that he blames everything on Sun cause it's easier to hate a person he loved the most..

Like no one knows that Nexus had that vivid dream - except Monty bxbxbxbbxbx

No one knows that Nexus was afraid of Sun dying..

Nexus was so worried but his worries were constantly ignored..

This is what is the most sad thing to me.. that Nexus never talked to Sun about anything..

They both loved each other so much and yet..

And also ha ha I don't believe that Nexus wanted to kill Sun the most..

Such bs when he never even hurt Sun at all - physically I mean..

I'll die on the hill that Nexus actually cared deeply about Sun but he was just confused..

It's not Sun's fault.. again..

And also people completely forgot that Moon's computer constantly was comparing Nexus to Moon - saying that Nexus is dumb compared to Moon and it tried to and downloaded all the knowledge into Nexus' head..

But no "it was all Sun bla bla bla"

Nexus never wanted to talk to Sun about anything.. he only yelled so Sun stopped mentioning Moon..

Maybe if Nexus talked with Sun like a normal person.. then maybe he'd learn that Sun still loved Moon despite all the abuse.. and then if he allowed Sun to talk about the past and grieve and move on and also talk about his own insecurities etc then Sun would definitely apologized and he'd give Nexus space to be his own person..

But also he actually gave him that space.. he saw how much Solar was making Nexus happy so he didn't bother them.. but also Nexus is such a liar cause he obviously enjoyed playing games with Sun.. they had so much fun.. he wasn't threatening Sun like Moon used to do.. and also Sun never wanted Nexus to fix everything.. and definitely not on his own..

And I think that Nexus knows that..

But I think that the fear of Sun dying was too much so it broke Nexus..

And it was easier for him to hate Sun then even admit that..

Nexus knows that he wasn't the best to Sun like he claims himself to be.. but he can't admit his wrongs..

Just like Moon used to do..

Solar was right that Nexus isn't that much different from Moon but he doesn't want to admit it..

And yet Nexus claimed to be the Moon cause he called Moon a knockoff..

I think that Nexus loved Sun deeply but he also couldn't admit to being wrong..

His ego is what destroyed him actually..

That's why he acted like Creator.. cause I was thinking for quite some time that the more egotistic Nexus was the more he acted like Creator.. cause Creator made them.. so he became like Creator who is a pure ego..

And also Nexus saying that Sun would probably purposely hurt him.. yeah sure Jan keep lying to yourself..

Like they say whatever makes you sleep better, right Nexie ^^

Poor Sun loves Nexus so much yet he has to suffer now because Nexus pretended till the end that he never cared and hates Sun 🥺😭💔

#sun and moon show #sams #sams sun #sams moon #sams nexus #sams solar #sams spoilers #laes lunar #laes earth #laes monty #eaps spoilers #sams creator #sun is so me #bxbxbbxbx #sams dark sun

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user73817 · 3 days ago

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almost victorian with you//wearing nothing but the summer bruises on my knees

chrollo x reader drabble with vague allusions to sex. inspired vaguely by fishtail by lana because i love lana and the chrollo + lana combo is lethal

cw: none i think but chrollo is kinda weird and bit of a red flag

technically no explicit mentions of reader's gender but they wear dresses so idk

~ 600 words

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You doubt even he knows what he wants from you.

Truly, Chrollo doesn't care for much at all in the world, only the Phantom Troupe and whatever captures his interest at any given time. He doesn't talk about things like the past, but you're sure it carries weight to it from the way the Troupe always put nothing but their utmost faith in him.

‘Hedonistic’ is the word you think of when you think of Chrollo, spoiling himself and the Troupe in the items he steals. Whatever shiny thing catches his eyes will be his. Sometimes you think that with the way he looks at you, perhaps you're just another shiny thing he wants to possess.

He carries himself like a true gentleman, a well crafted veneer of class and sophistication. The slight bow when he meets others, straight posture, ironed suits, and his finely manicured hands.

He loves to read, and you can tell, Chrollo, ever the quiet romantic. He can speak endlessly on anything, with a wealth of knowledge beneath his expensive belt. A thief in the skin of a Victorian nobleman. He always insists on taking you to fancy restaurants in Yorknew, even though he always makes you two leave without paying. Gifting you artfully crafted bouquets and expensive jewellery that he almost certainly didn't pay for. Sneaking into orchestras and ballets with no tickets, yourself dressed in the fine jewels and pretty dresses he gets for you, and him in his patent leather coat over his well tailored black suits.

Sometimes at night, before either of you are tired, he’ll read to you whatever limited edition classic he made off with from a private auction, his soft voice lulling you to sleep. Or perhaps it’s more of a siren’s song than a peaceful lullaby. As you fall asleep, you always feel it, the soft press of his lips against your forehead, right where he has the tattoo on his.

But at times his gentlemanly charade slips, the facade of a well mannered man falls for just a moment.

You’ll never forget the way he so intently looked at the scarlet eyes of the Kurta, fixated on them, watched them, severed and put into jars surrounded by a yellowish liquid, and faint trails of blood. Like he just couldn't get enough of the sight, a light smile touching his mouth, eyes unable to tear themselves from the sight, needing to indulge himself in the pleasure brought from his spoils, over and over again.

Sometimes it seems like he wears that same expression when he’s on top of you, with his hair down, shadows cast from his brow to his eye, the flat of his torso splayed across yours, and you can feel every inch of his skin pressing against yours, the slight digging of his hip bones against your flesh. That same fascination and intensity in his stare, boring deep within you. You can feel his attention fall to every minute reaction your body gives up. How he knows every way in which you respond to his touch. His slender hands clench your waist like they're his to hold onto so tightly. His tongue unable to leave you, his eyes drawn to the sheen of his saliva on your skin. He kisses your knees gently after you bruise them on the tough hotel carpets in front of him. He leaves bruises decorating your neck and collarbone for you to wear alongside the necklaces he gifts you. Sometimes he bites down hard, not hard enough to bleed, but hard enough to remind you that he’s the only one allowed to rough you up and treat you kindly after. In all fairness, Chrollo's the only one you let treat you in such a way, the only one who would treat you in such a way.

And perhaps it is all just a charade, an evocation of old-timey traditionalism to mask his selfish desire to possess you like another one of his stolen treasures. Or maybe he does just want to treat you nice, take you out to rooftop dinners under a setting sun, show that, in a gentlemanly way, of course, he maybe feels something akin to love for you.

You wouldn't know. You doubt even he knows. Chrollo has always been enigmatic, even from when you first met him. And just maybe, he is to himself, too.

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i love chrollo

#chrollo x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #hxh chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh fanfic #hxh x reader #chrollo headcanons #chrollo hcs

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herefortheships · 2 days ago

Note

We see Betelgeuse staring at Lydia's photo right after he appeared to her at the school. I like to think Betel stole her picture way back after his first defeat because it'd help him astral project to bother her. Like, as a tool for petty revenge, not for any sentimental or creepy reasons (initially). It'd explain why he never got a more recent picture. It hadn't been about her pretty face, or any other attractive attributes she'd develop later. It just meant to help him focus. And boy, did that backfire.

It's an interesting headcanon, him using the photo as a tool to be able to manifest around her. But to be honest, I believe he never had intentions to pester her or bother her in any way. Not even in the first film when he was more volatile and scarier did he ever try to harm her. When he turned into the snake, all he did was stare at her like he was taken by her, so much so that Barbara used that pause to banish him before he could do something.

He's always treated her different from any other woman from the start. So I believe he took the photo at some point during the events of the first film, and kept it close to him all these years because he was fascinated with Lydia.

We don't know how long he waited at that afterlife waiting room (my headcanon is that he said "screw this" at some point, stood up and left), but assuming he did wait in that room for a good amount of time, like days, or moths (or even a year or more, the number was pretty long), then he had time to reflect on what happened at the Maitland's house. Their time spent together was considerably rushed; they didn't get the opportunity to talk much, but he did have several months around Lydia, to watch her and get a sense of her.

I think he took that photo when he started forming the idea that he was going to propose to her as his ticket "out for good". Not even to get that thing which he presumably wants the most did he ever try to hurt Lydia; with the context of BJBJ now we know he could have just swapped souls with her and taken her life, but he didn't. (Or maybe he doesn't want to be alive; he may just want to be a ghost that can hang out with the living and never go back to the netherworld lol. But he did say "this dead thing is just too creepy", so maybe he does want to get another chance at being alive. I really want to know what exactly will happen to him if he does marry her. But I digress. Even if he knew about the soul swap he would have never tried it, because, again, he would never hurt Lydia.)

During whatever time he spent at that waiting room after the failed wedding attempt, he had that photo with him and would stare at it for comfort. Now I'm getting this headcanon that he started to realize around that time how her presence was actually really comforting, and he started missing her, wanting to see her again in person. Then he went "screw it", left that waiting room, and made up his mind that he was going to find his way back to that strange goth girl again.

Editing to add: Lydia was the only person who treated him with kindness and talked to him like a person in probably hundreds of years. Notice how everyone is afraid of even saying his name once, and those who do call him, do so to ask something of him. When Lydia first talked to him, she didn't exactly do it to seek out to use him for anything; he did offer to help her if she helped him out, but Lydia didn't approach him with fear nor to ask anything out of him. It was likely his only genuine interaction in years. Of course he wanted more of her, and so, at least he kept her photo (but never gave up on seeing her in person again either 😉).

#Wait my English grammar was weird there at the end wasn't it?#Beetlebabes #Beetlejuice x Lydia #Betelgeuse #Betelgeuse x Lydia #Beetlejuice Beetlejuice #Betelgeuse's photo of Lydia #Beetlejuice headcanons #BJBJ #Anon #Anons #Anonymous #Anonymous questions #Answers

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mellowyellow236 · 1 day ago

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IVE JUST BEEN ON A BINGING SPREE OF YOUR WORK AND I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH??? YOUR WRITING IS SO CHEF'S KISS????

Its possible could i request for the first year (platonic ortho if you'd like to write him ^^) x reader with the kingdom dance scene from tangled the ost always has my heart pumping and i think its just a beautiful scene all around AAAA

Ahhhh thank you so much for requesting! Sorry that this took a while and isn’t very long, I haven’t watched Tangled in at least five years at this point so it was hard to remember the context behind the scene, especially since I couldn’t find an actual copy of the movie. But you are completely right, that soundtrack is absolutely wonderful! So much so that it’s now the tavern music I’m using in my Dnd campaign. Anyway, here you are! :D

How Would The TWST First Years Act With The Reader During The Tangled Kingom Dance Scene?

GN!Reader x first years, all are meant to be read as romantic except for Ortho’s, but can be read as platonic, too. No TW’s, just fluff. All parts under the cut.

Edit: added tags since I forgot before

Ace Trapolla -

Ace wasn’t excited to come down to town for the festival, so to speak. They lit the lanterns every year, but... Seeing you so happy for it did melt his heart if only a little. And seeing you get a chance to have your hair done by those little girls in the plaza was the cream on the cake. Once you had it braided with flowers and ribbons, you really did look beautiful.

He went away to grab you guys something to eat. He was only away for a second, but by the time he returned, he was watching you start a dance in the town square, inviting in various townspeople. Soon enough, most of the plaza was there. He didn’t want to join in, but he was being pushed into it before he had a chance to comprehend what was happening.

Dancing around, it was easy to see why so many had joined you. You were a great dancer, and it was fun to get to be with so many people. Even so, the fact that he wasn’t able to dance with you until the song was annoying for him. Up until he got to dance with you, of course. Anyone with a brain could see the stars in his eyes.

Deuce Spade -

Deuce loved the idea of getting a chance to take you to a festival. It would be your first one, and of course, he was very excited. So much so that he got a group of girls from the town to braid your hair. Try as he might, he couldn’t do it himself, although he did get you the ribbons and flowers to put in them.

When he went to go grab another thing of flowers for you, this time just for you to hold, he didn’t think twice when he saw you dancing. He dove right in, joining you and the other townspeople in dance, laughing. By the time he got to dance with you, he only had a single flower left, having given most of them away. Although, when he put that one behind your ear, it was clear he had saved the largest of the bunch for you.

Jack Howl -

Jack was too excited, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t want to go. Yes, it was exciting to go to a festival, but he’d already been to many of them. However, seeing how happy you were to go, he decided it was his mission to make sure you got the best experience possible.

However, he still had the ears of a wolf, and all of the loud noises and smells soon overwhelmed him. You two had to take coverage in a small library. He urged you to go back to enjoying the festival, he didn’t want you to stay behind for him, but when you didn’t, he did the next best thing and started teaching you about it. You were in a library, after all, and he was able to read and teach now that it was quieter. And in the end, isn’t wanting to spend time with your loved ones what the festival was all about?

Epel Felmeir -

Epel had been hoping you’d go with him to the festival since he heard about it, and so having you express an interest in it was something that made his day. He loved being able to go to all kinds of festivals back home, and he was sure he’d enjoy having you there for one with him, as well.

His favorite part? Getting to hide behind the wall of a bakery, eating cupcakes as Vil walks around outside of it searching for you two. Did you giggle so loudly you were caught? Yes. But was it worth it as he got to see you laughing, icing on your nose as you two ran through the streets, away from the pastry tyrant? It was. It was completely worth it.

Ortho Shroud -

Ortho was so happy when you invited him out! You two were going to be able to spend time together, and he got to have his first adventure into a festival while he was with you. He even got to make some friends with a few kids, and they taught him how to braid your hair!

And then you got to do chalk drawings together! You made a sun, and he made a drawing of him, Idia, and you. You’re a part of his family, too, and he’s so happy to be able to share a happy memory with you.

Sebek Zigvolt -

Sebek wasn’t excited at first. It was just a boring, human festival, nothing that could compare to the wonders of Fae traditions. But then, he saw you dressing up your hair and asking for help with it, and he couldn’t help but soften up to the idea just a little bit. Even humans could have a good festival or two, especially if those braided flowers are only the first part.

Out of all the first years, Sebek is the least excited to dance, yet also the best at it. Being Malleus’s personal guard, he took dance lessons, in order to blend in to any ballroom and guard Malleus even when he couldn’t be by his side. However, it was always just another part of his training, where he couldn’t even fight… Until you. Now, he’s dancing in the town square with you, hand in yours and one on your waist, mentally wondering how he got so lucky to end up here, with a human so wonderful they can make what he thought of as a boring activity into something beautiful and fun.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst disney #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #duece spade #duece spade x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #epel felmier x reader #ortho shroud #ortho shroud & reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader

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lotusarchon · 15 hours ago

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Therians are indeed, people who feel a very spiritual connection with a certain animal! They can't choose which animal it is though, they just feel it. Some of them make masks of this animal to feel a bit more connected, and then there's...THOSE therians (with all due respect because i'm a therian too and no one deserves to be disrespected) who eats food for animals (for example cat food, dog food) and/or runs away from their home because their family doesn't accept they are therians...

I'm sorry for my own community but like being a therian isn't TRYING TO BE that animal you feel connected to 😭 we're still humans, we're always gonna be humans- we don't TRY to be that animal, we just feel connected with them...I'm sorry but I find it a bit funny when they get to that point, though it's concerning when they start eating dog or cat food like please don't do that you could get seriously sick

Anyway that's therians for you! :3

Ohhhh thank you for this Anon! I was kinda right yaaay

Though I don't think I'm allowed to say this since idk much about it, it is a bit weird thinking you are FULLY an animal I guess? But then again I won't make judgement, but also, DON'T EAT DOG/CAT/ANY FOOD FOR ANIMALS YOU'LL DIE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THINK ABOUT YOUR TUMMIESSSSSSS

- from someone who ate dog chow religiously as a child and is insane now

Edit: turning off reblogs for this post because apparently this is starting some discourse within this community. With all due respect; I am NOT a therian, nor am I aware of how things work for you guys. I just know basic knowledge, and if the anon is wrong, then that's fine. Someone actually corrected me on it, which is FINE. But for the love of god, please do not pull ME into your discourse. The origins of this was someone asking me what my opinion of therians is, and my statement remains; I don't care what you do, if you're not a bad person then do what makes you happy, I am not going to judge you. Someone said it isn't just a spiritual connection and it's actually feeling like the animal, and that's FINE. I still think it's weird but I also know this is from my OWN ignorance, so please stop coming to yap at me about this rudely, because you're only giving me the impression that you guys are rude. I'm not going to pretend I know anything, and if you wish to disagree with Anon, do so POLITELY. Otherwise, please stop interacting with the post. Calling the anon out on misinformation is fine, but again, do not bring ME into this. As far as I'm aware, I'm watching different sets of people who are stating what they know of therians from their own experience. 🧍 It's fine that you wanna point out misinfo but also. Be nice. Because it feels like you guys are yelling at me and it's not nice

#ㅤㅤㅤໂ♥︎̼̻𓈒ིུ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ field of flowers 🌸#anon #therian #for legal reasons that last bit is a joke I don't think dog food made me insane #but also you shouldn't eat animal food bc their stomachs are different from yours #ALSO also #i know it's difficult when people won't accept you but I don't think running away from home is a good thing esp if you're a kid and have no #-one else to turn too #just...hang on until you're all grown up!#I don't think i should comment about 'those' therians cause i don't wanna seem mean ;-;#fhwhwudirur

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adrixivy · 12 hours ago

Text

Imagine the Avengers have a shared album. It was an album that they all made so they can update on what they’re doing and it was all Peter’s suggestion so the team could bond more. Yet Peter changes it up one day by dumping pics of the Avengers from afar and they’re all looking up, wondering where the fuck is Peter taking the photos from.

Then Peter dumps 0.5 pics of Tony when he was sleeping or Tony simply allowed it because he was tired to say anything and it was the most ridiculously outrageous photos of Tony that Tony is immediately up from his chair in the lab and finding Peter, yelling about him deleting the photos.

Peter only does it when Tony hasn’t eaten a full meal or anything in a day or has not slept at all since he was busy overworking himself. And it always works.

Soon, the shared album that was previously about updates became a place to dump the most ridiculous photos of the Avengers or the shenanigans they do that it would be a PR nightmare for their PR team to manage(SHIELD is definitely their PR team even though Nick Fury is not paid enough for it)

Clint, dumping photos of Bucky and Steve on the couch together: *captioned ‘Look at this lovebirds!’*

Bucky checks his phone and is immediately showing Steve and the two glare at the vent at the left corner of the room where they hear distant giggles as Clint crawls away

Peter sending a photo of Tony and Stephen making out in the kitchen: *captioned ‘EW MR STARK GET A ROOM!’*

Tony pauses and pulls away from Stephen who frowns when he pulls his phone out. Tony gasped in horror and showed the phone to Stephen before spotting his son and immediately charging at him (“Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark, you get your tiny ass here right now!”) Stephen sighs and sends the cloak after his lover and son. Cloak wraps around Peter who screams for mercy and Tony grinned

Bruce sending a picture of Sam drinking a Caprisun: *Captioned ‘Peter I think that’s yours..’*

Peter suddenly appears and tackles Sam, screaming that it was his last one and the man now owns him a box. Sam is screaming back, saying ‘Get Stark to buy that, he has money!’ and the two is fighting till Steve pulls them apart

Natasha sends a photo of Clint surrounded by fire as he burns down their kitchen for the fifth time this month: *captioned ‘Guys he’s at it again’*

Tony immediately presses a button that shoots out foam that extinguishes the fire from the ceiling, covering Natasha and Clint in it. Natasha is fuming and Tony just realised he’s mistake and locked down his lab.

Rhodey sends a picture of Tony partying in his suit during that one party he did when he was dying. Tony is embarrassed of how idiotic he was. Peter is cackling before he’s immediately silenced by a glare from the older man

Tony starts to mess with Steve one day after he finds records of him in the past when he went through his father’s things. Tony sends a photo of Steve pre-super serum that he happened to find and Steve rolls his eyes and groans when Bucky laughs at him, making fun of the blonde (“The dwarf who was like ‘I can do this all day’ with a bleeding nose, HAH!”) The rest of the Avengers laugh, snicker or is genuinely surprised how skinny Steve actually was

Tony uploads a black and white video of Steve in the army in the past, seemingly forming a plan before the camera cuts to Bucky’s photo in a pocket watch as Steve checks the time. He quickly shuts the pocket watch and hides it. Bucky is slightly flustered and Steve is embarrassed. (“Tony where the hell are you getting this!”)

(⬆️Inspired by that one scene in Captain America: The First Avenger!)

I can picture Peter and Wanda sending edits of the Avengers they found on Tiktok to the album or videos they found online of the Avengers epic fails. Since they’re probably the only two who has Tiktok or scroll through social media and definitely wanted the Avengers to see this. Or simply any news that they find hilarious or the Avengers needed to know. Tony joins on the news because Friday always updates him

Wanda sending an edit of Natasha on TikTok: *Captioned ‘Look at this hot momma!’

Natasha is flattered, chuckling as she rewatches the edit and wondering where people got this clips from.

Peter sends a video titled ‘The Avengers Fails!’ which show Tony being thrown back to a signboard, Steve falling from a building with a yell, Thor being thrown back to the hulk which the hulk is angered by and he’s thrown again at a billboard, Wanda tripping over a step, Clint being dragged along in the air at the back of the Quinjet screaming, Bucky’s arm being thrown in Tony’s face, Rhodey and Tony crashing into each other, Stephen accidentally letting out an ancient monster and desperately trying to close it back up and finally Natasha’s gun being slapped away by a giant when she shoots it. The Avengers are immediately embarrassed and Friday plays the video to get their egos in check once a month. Peter has multiple compilations of fails online so he isn’t embarrassed. He believes it’s part of his spidey persona so he embraces it with open arms. The Avengers find it impossible to embarrass him when he’s Spiderman.

Tony sends an online magazine, specifically one page where it’s all about Steve. And his magnificent ‘America’s Ass’. Steve sighs and knows Tony has something to do with the magazine when he actually doesn’t. Bucky secretly downloads the page

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effortlesslytired · 2 days ago

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I have no other explanation other than I can't stop thinking about them and am mentally unwell. This was supposed to be quick and short, if you count 3k+ words to be quick and short then sure... Summary is the original prompt, couldn't find something that fit so I wrote it myself. Did this all in one 12 hour night shift and just did one look over for editing, so if there are mistakes uhhh keep that to yourselves, enjoy!!

Crowley's Fall and Aziraphale's Awakening

Aziraphale stood in the middle of the room, the projection playing loudly and clear and his heart shattering at the truth he’s finally witnessing.

Crowley has never talked about his Fall, his descent from Heaven to Hell and being forced to become a Demon, but Aziraphale always had the feeling that what he’s heard through rumors wasn’t the truth.

He remembers the days of Crowley with striking brown eyes, radiating warmth and glimmering gold when a ray of sun would hit them just right. His passion for building the creation of stars and nebulae, the utter joy on his face was enough to distract Aziraphale while he worked. The amount of times the Angel would be with him as Crowley worked, and the feeling of admiration that coursed through him seeing his friend so happy.

Aziraphale watches as Crowley is stripped from his job, forced to undergo a permanent transformation and the agony as his brown eyes morph into what he knows them to be to this day. The yellow pulsing from his pupils, covering the brown and bleeding into the white while he scratches at the skin when the pupil begins to mold into the snake-like slits. His screams are echoing against the porcelain white walls of the room, stars shining above and Aziraphale weeps as Crowley begs Gabriel for him to see the stars – his stars one last time.

Gabriel laughs at the Angel, forcing the stars to shine brighter and mocking the Angel stripped from his position while all Crowley can do is cry out.

“I can't see them.”

The Archangel’s chest squeezes in sorrow, his friend, his love, on his knees in a desperate last attempt to not have his pride and joy taken from him. Even if he got to see them one last time, it’s all he wants.

“You questioned the will of God, you’re defiant and untrustworthy to the cause of us Angels. Enjoy your time in Hell.”

Gabriel’s voice is booming, a wave of his hand and Crowley is flat on the floor, his wings pinned to the ground as the white feathers are ripped from his body and new growth replacing them with the stark black.

The screams are excruciating, forcing Aziraphale to look away as the audio continues to play on. The vulnerability of the Demon hidden and a reason Aziraphale never knew, never understood why Crowley was how he is.

“I didn’t question God, I just wanted to create.”

Gabriel’s laugh is bitter at the sounds of Crowley’s pleas. Mocking the Angel with black wings and yellow eyes.

“You just asked the wrong ones.”

The Archangel snapped his fingers and others poured into the room, yanking the now Demon on the floor to his feet and not paying any mind to the bloody mess pooled around him from his wings. Crowley screams in pain, but no one seems to care as they drag him to the elevator doors, barely on his feet and stumbling trying to get his footing. The Angel’s holding him up throw him into the open doors, looks of disapproval and disappointment not hidden at all as their eyes settle on him.

“Maybe Satan would rather listen to your pathetic ideas because they have no place for you here.”

Crowley’s crumbled body fights to stand up, to try and get himself back out from the elevator but the doors are already closing and the projection abruptly cuts out.

Aziraphale stands in the silent room, staring at the wall now bare and his mouth wide open. His Heaven would never do such a thing, never cast someone out for ideas and questions for making beautiful things. He wants to believe there was another reason, another bad thing Crowley committed to cause him to Fall. There has to be another reason.

But the projection doesn’t lie, and wouldn't lie when the proof is right there.

Aziraphale turns in his spot, storming out of the room and finding the Metatron at his desk. His face lights up as he sees Aziraphale approaching, however, his expression quickly falters at the look on the new Archangel and the anger radiating from him.

“He Fell because he wanted the world to see the stars? He Fell because he had questions to make the Universe radiate with light and beauty?” His voice is panicked, the gentleness he meant to convey gone as the desperation for answers over powers.

“Ah, you saw the Fall.” It’s not a question and it only makes Aziraphale more upset.

“You Angels stripped him from his holiness and cast him out for something so trivial.” Aziraphale stops at the other side of the desk. “How can I help run Heaven when all we do is punish those who want to make our domain more?”

The Metatron sighs, sitting back in his chair and looking up at Aziraphale. “He was deviating from our plan, he did it to himself.”

The audacity of the Metatron has Aziraphale reeling, taking a step back and looking appalled at the Angel.

“I can’t be who you want me to be knowing you did this to my friend.” He bites, shaking his head and looking towards the windows lining the walls. Bright and sunny, clouds beyond, a gorgeous place, a place Aziraphale thought he could trust.

“Do you realize what you’re saying Aziraphale? If you think that you can just step down and go back to what you were before, you’re wrong.” The Metetrom stands to his feet, rounding the desk and looking at the Archangel with the same disgust in his eyes that those other Angels did to Crowley.

“I do.”

“This was what we were afraid of, your so-called friend has corrupted you. We were all afraid he was more than that.”

Aziraphale scoffs. “So what if he is, when I call he comes. When I need him he’s there, even if he helps and does something nice despite his demonic blood. He’s still the same person he was before when he was an Angel.”

“Do you realize what you are saying Aziraphale? If you don’t see why we did what we did, those who don’t believe in God's plan will be stripped from their titles. You’ll become a Fallen.”

“I don’t care.” Aziraphale stands on his ground, a slight feeling of fear drops in his stomach but he holds on strong.

“Very well.” The Metatron waves his hand and Aziraphale can feel the angelic energy stripping from his very skin, a layer peeling off like dead skin and nothing like what he saw from Crowley’s Fall.

“Why is this different? What you all did to Crowley was horrifying.”

“Would you rather I did the same to you?”. The Metatron’s eyes narrow in on Aziraphale and the Angel quickly shakes his head.

“Do you wish to grab things from your desk?”

He thinks back to his office, a few belongings on his desk with little importance. “I don’t need to, everything I have and want is on Earth.”

“Fine, once you step through the elevator doors you won’t be allowed back.” The Metatron gestures for him to leave, turning back to his desk and sitting down in the chair. He doesn’t even look at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale only nods and turns on his heels, walking fast as if he could find a part of himself changing his mind on the way to the elevator doors. He breaks into a run, wanting to get away from the truth that was revealed as fast as possible, a bead of sweat pearling on his forehead, a breath of relief escaping him as he turns in the elevator and presses the button down.

It feels like an eternity as the elevator makes its way towards Earth, and Aziraphale sends out his power, scanning for Crowley. He’s shocked to find his presence still at the bookstore.

After he left to take on the role as an Archangel, Aziraphale assumed his Demon companion would have fled to his home, roam the Earth and cause havoc without even thinking of Aziraphale again. The presence at the bookstore is a hopeful wish, a breath of relief and his heart squeezed tightly.

London is the same as it was when Aziraphale left, gloomy and rainy, the streets bustling with life even with the chill morning air settling a heavy fog on the streets below. The coffee shop is open and flooded with customers, Aziraphale can make out the faint silhouette of Nina behind the counter.

His gaze turns to the bookstore on the corner, an open sign hanging on the door but quiet. From his view he can still make out the stacks of books lining the shelves and walls and he’s grateful that nothing has seemed to be sold.

There’s a moment of slight panic in the Angel now Fallen, a moment of resentment at what he’s become and what he just did. He doesn’t feel any different than when he was an Angel, and he can still feel the crackle of holy — unholy power pulsing through his veins. It doesn’t seem to be all that bad in his opinion, this newfound power he possesses. It’s a thought he pushes to the back of his mind, the sort of regret he knows he’ll feel eventually for abandoning his position and his faith for a sliver of hope that may not even be reciprocated. He convinces himself he did the right thing, at least for now, and that Crowley being at the bookstore still is the only kind of motivation he needs.

Aziraphale opens the door to the store, the familiar chime of the bell rings from above and the smell of old paper floods his nose, and it’s Muriel he sees first. The Angel beams at him, admiration still in their eyes.

“Aziraphale, welcome back!” They’re ecstatic, barreling towards the man at the door. “I haven’t sold anything just like Crowley told me!”

Aziraphale scans the interior of the store and his eyes fall to the Angel in front of him. “I’m glad to hear it, say where is he?”

Muriel’s smile only grows more, the praise from Aziraphale coursing through them. “Oh he’s around here somewhere, I was just talking to him a moment ago.”

Aziraphale nods and looks back towards the store and takes a few more steps in, his movements coming to a complete halt when Crowley’s lanky body trapezes down the spiral staircase and freezes as their eyes connect.

“Muriel, would you give us a moment? Maybe go across the street and enjoy a nice cup of coffee.” Aziraphale says, never once looking at the new owner of his bookstore.

“Oh, Crowley has told me about Nina and her coffee, can’t say I’ve ever—”

“Muriel, please.” Aziraphale cuts in, finally breaking eye contact with the Demon and looking down to the Angel.

Muriel salutes him. “Yes, of course.”

Aziraphale doesn’t watch as Muriel leaves, only knowing they’re gone once the bell chimes above the door again. There’s a sickly silence that settles in the store, neither one of them daring to speak or move as they size each other up. It’s Aziraphale who breaks first.

“Why did you never tell me?”

Crowley raises an eyebrow, his eyes hidden behind the glasses but Aziraphale knows they’re burning a hole in his face. “Tell you what Angel?”

Aziraphale winces, looking down at the floor and back up again. “About that…”

“What did you do?” Crowley is in front of him then, Aziraphale feeling bare and naked as Crowley examines the once before Archangel. He knows Crowley can read him like a book, knows that even without needing to speak a single word Crowley can predict his thoughts, his movements, lays him out on the table and strips him of his secrets.

“Aziraphale… what happened?”

“Your Fall, the pain and torment they forced you to endure.” Aziraphale wanted to be strong for this, supportive and caring, but the second he saw Crowley it all came crashing down.

“You stupid Angel, why did you go looking for it?” Crowley saunters across the shop, sitting himself down in the chair he always seemed to occupy when it was just the two of them.

“I’m not the Archangel anymore, Crowley. I don’t… I don’t know what I am anymore.”

Crowley looks at him, really looks at him this time and he pulls the glasses from his face. “You Fell.”

Aziraphale only stands in the middle of the room having taken a tentative step forwards. He knows he doesn’t have to say anything to confirm it, knows Crowley knows. He reeks of sin now, the glow of his angelic presence gone.

“You stupid idiot, what did you do?” Crowley pleads again.

Aziraphale takes a deep breath, ready to face it. “I saw how you Fell, why you Fell. You wanted to create, to give the humans the gift of the stars and make the universe beautiful. You had dreams, and yet you were cast aside and forced to never see them again. What do you think happened, Crowley?” He challenges, a spurt of annoyance oozing from his skin.

He continues. “I saw Gabriel, the way he stood there and smiled while you bled out and the other Angels who dragged you to your descent. You were forced through torture and torment in Hell all because you asked questions about God’s plans.” He takes a deep breath, not realizing he had taken a few more steps towards the Demon.

“I watched it all and confronted the Metatron and he told me if I had sympathy for you, he questioned our relationship and told me if I couldn’t forgive the Angels and God for what they did that I no longer belonged in Heaven.”

Crowley sighed, sitting forward in the chair and ran his hands down his face. Aziraphale couldn’t read what the expression was, a look of surprise, relief? Resentment?

“So what, you’re a Demon now and you expect me to just stand here with open arms, excited about the fact that you are here to do what? Run off into the sunset and go live somewhere else because the last time we saw each other you decided to go with Heaven over me.” His words are meant to be biting, Aziraphale can tell, though the words lack that anger.

Aziraphale winces, he knows Crowley is telling the truth, and he honestly doesn’t know what he wants, but right now he just wants to see his friend, the one person he knew he could always count on.

A million stars in the sky created by Crowley, a Demon forced to see nothing of them and Aziraphale doesn’t know what he wants. Doesn’t know how he can ever deserve the sort of forgiveness he thinks he’s asking for from him. The sight of Crowley laying in blood, begging for Gabriel to change his mind and let him stay, but cast aside anyways flashes across his mind.

Aziraphale readjusts his posture, his shoulders back and he looks down at Crowley. “I made a mistake.”

“Understatement of the century.” Crowley rolls his eyes, sighing as he leans into the chair.

“I’ll do the dance, you were right.” He suggests, his hands on his hips and ready.

Crowley waves a hand at the not-Angel, resting his head on a hand. “I don’t need you to do the dance Angel, you took your path and left me here.”

“Crowley please, I need you. I saw what you saw, I see now what you wanted, what we could have.” Aziraphale throws caution to the wind, bordering on the sounds of begging to his friend.

Crowley stands to his feet then, towering over Aziraphale and forcing him to cower a little at the intimidating aura the Demon eludes. “Oh please, you think I’ve been pining after you since you left? That I stayed here in this godforsaken bookstore because of you?”

Aziraphale��s eyes snap to Crowley, his eyebrows knitting together at the last statement. “Why did you stay?”

“I—” Crowley steps back, his mouth snapping shut with a lack of response.

“For a Demon you don’t act with evilness Crowley, you stayed because you’re nice, because you know how much these books mean to me.” He waves his arms around him, gesturing to the packed spaces filled with books – his books.

“Angel we’ve been over this, I am not nice—” Crowley attempts to take another step back as Aziraphale walks towards him, but is stopped at the feeling of the chair hitting his calves.

Aziraphale stands in front of him, looking up with sorrow and longing and Crowley’s eyes filling with vulnerability.

“Maybe not, but you’re in love…” Aziraphale is standing in front of his Demon, his hands reaching up and cradling the face of the man he didn’t realize until now, but he’s “and I’m in love too.”

There’s tears in Aziraphale’s eyes, a look of desperation as the pair of them stand so close Aziraphale can feel the warmth of Crowley’s breath across his lips. They stand there and stare and the once before Angel can see the stars in the yellow of the Demon’s eyes. The universe is thriving within them, the sun shining bright and radiating light, and there’s a slight flicker of hope, of a lifetime dying to be released.

“That’s a bold claim, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale chuckles, his chest tight and his cheeks warm. “It’s a bold claim for someone who knows they’re right.”

“You didn’t want to be us before…” The Demon fights with a lack of malice behind his words.

“And yet I realized what a stupid mistake that was because us is all there ever was, all that I ever needed, all we have ever needed.”

Crowley’s breath hitches and for a moment Aziraphale watches the bob of his throat and thinks “fuck it”. His other hand is up on Crowley’s cheek, cradling the sunken face of the Demon and pulling him towards him.

Their lips meet with hesitancy, different from the desperate kiss Crowley gave him months ago. This one full of love and confusion and fear at what’s next. Azirpahale’s hands are moving back on Crowley’s face, tangling in the hair that’s grown ever so slightly and holding onto the man. He can feel Crowley’s own hands wrap around his body, pulling them flush together and the heat is scorching.

They kiss with a passion of 6000 wasted years, of stolen glances, time lost and spent together. It’s a kiss that is long overdue and a contract signed for what’s to come. They have centuries to figure out where they will go, what more than can explore and how to navigate Aziraphale’s new life, but this single moment with both of them wrapped in one another and neither one wanting to let go.

Crowley pulls away first but doesn’t move away. “Do you hear that Angel?”

Aziraphale looks around, straining his ears and listening. The faint sound of chirps and melodic singing floods his ears.

There’s a beaming smile on the Demon’s face when Aziraphale looks back at him. “It’s the sound of Nightingales.” And Crowley pulls him back in for another kiss.

If anyone has a fic where Aziraphale finds out how/why Crowley fell and it’s soul crushing with a happy ending, I will give you my first born child

#good omens #good omens fan fiction #good omens fandom #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #gomens #how the 90 minutes should go #i cried to my best friend on ft to these two #i also screamed into a pillow #did my steddie blog turn into one about the husbands #yes it did #im tired okay pls dont judge too hard

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