with apologies to lewis carroll
The Walrus and her Fairy friend
Were strolling down the block;
They paused and then debated on
Which one of them should knock:
‘You know, this might be easier
If we just pick the lock!'
‘If I’m the one to do it
And they find me standing here,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus asked,
That they would shriek in fear?'
The Fairy said ‘I bet they would,’
And shed a bitter tear.
The Walrus and the Fairy then
Walked on a little more,
And came upon the house
That they’d identified before.
They flipped a coin to see which one
Would now approach the door.
‘O Tumblrina, let me in!'
The Walrus did beseech.
‘A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
For I have much to teach.’
(The sounds of this discussion
Were within the Fairy’s reach.)
The Tumblr user looked at him,
But never a word they said:
Too wowed by this new circumstance
To even shake their head.
‘Would you prefer,’ the Walrus sighed,
A Fairy’s knock instead?’
‘The time has come,' the Fairy said,
Accepting his new role,
‘We must admit this visit
Is in service of a goal.’
And then the two together cried,
‘We’re here to take a poll!’
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Fictober 2022 #1
Prompt: I Chose You
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: G
Pairings: Crowley/Aziraphale
Crowley couldn’t say that he particularly missed Hell. No, that was a lie (formerly, he might have wondered if that was a good thing, since as a demon, he was probably supposed to lie, right? But who cared at this point).
He could absolutely say that he didn’t miss Hell. At all. As opposed to guys like Hastur, who had always enjoyed the place so much he had hardly ever left, Crowley had not been able to wait to get upstairs (earth, that was, God’s new exciting plaything, not back to Heaven) from the second he’d fallen, or rather, spiraled down while screaming his non-existent lungs out.
(He was still a little angry at Her about that. Fine, punish them for Luci’s rebellion, that was fair. But why did She have to throw them down like that? He still didn’t particularly like heights, so it was perhaps a good thing that he had become the Serpent. Lots of crawling to be done very close to the ground).
It had just… the first thing he had noticed in hell had been the crowds. God (are you listening? It’s me, Crowley. Couldn’t let us have even a little bit of privacy just because we had some problems with the management?) the crowds. One could hardly think or feel or do anything at all for all the demons slinking about; there was not a dark corner in that pit of despair that wasn’t filled to the brim.
And then the noise, of course. There couldn’t be a crowd without a noise, and contrary to the snakes of earth (lucky, really, he would have said, but on the other hand, if he had been like them, he would have never have heard his angel’s voice) he had ears and so had to live with all of that.
The darkness was just the cherry on top of the cake, and so, he had gladly accepted the order to go up there and make some trouble.
(To this day, he still held that it hadn’t been that much trouble, because what was the point of having the bloody tree in the garden in the first place?)
Anyway: He had not been back in Hell since the Apocalypse that hadn’t been after all. Apart from the fact that there were quite a few demons who would probably have liked to have a word with him, for all of Aziraphale’s and his tricks, why would he ever want to go back there, now that he and his angel had finally come to an understanding and were looking at cottages so they could have a place outside of London as well?
Yes, he didn’t care if he never got back to Hell. Ever.
What surprised him, though, was that Aziraphale seemed to regret Heaven so little. He was aware that his failed execution wasn’t away on him – he was still wondering why they had not even bothered to have a trial for him, at least a show one like Crowley’s – but…well… Heaven was so much cleaner than Hell, there was a lot more room (although that argument, thinking of the book shop Crowley now too called his home, was probably a bit thin), and you could see all of Her work from there.
So, it just stood to reason that Aziraphale should miss Heaven, if only a little.
The good thing about it all was that they had sworn there would be no more secrets between them, so all he had to do was make tea (proper tea, of course, his angel only deserved the best) and plop down the cup in front of him as he was once again reading (what else, really?)
He looked up to smile at him. “Thank you, dear.”
He tried, of course, to be his usual smooth self, but only managed to say, “Ngk.”
Aziraphale actually put the book away. “What is it?”
He couldn’t help but shake his head and say “Ngk” again.
His angel reached out and took his hand. “Crowley?”
“DoYouMissNotGoingToHeaven?” he finally rushed out.
Aziraphale frowned. “Why would I?”
“Well, it’s so nice and clean for one thing…” he started to ramble, only realizing how asinine he sounded when Aziraphale shook his head smiling.
“Crowley dear, I think you should know by now that their choice of decoration” basically meaning a lot of blank walls “Is not exactly to my taste.”
He nodded because he supposed that made sense.
Then, Aziraphale held out his hand and he couldn’t help but grab it because… well, because he could, these days.
“I suppose the views were nice, now that I think about it” his angel mused, “But in the end… there are some things I would have to give up if I wanted to go back to Heaven”. He smiled at him. “And my dear, I chose you a long time ago.”
The only answer was, of course, to kiss him.
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On His Own Terms
Rise Ramblings #2
In my post, “This Whole Situation,” I discuss how Donnie doesn’t see himself or his mutation as something that needs to be hidden away. He wears clothes when he's out and about, and that’s about it. However, as turtlemen in the middle of NYC, sometimes they need to actually wear disguises. So, what does Donnie do in those cases?
Old ladies? Well, that’s a choice. And the way Leo phrased the question is interesting as well.
“Why do you always make us dress up as old ladies.”
This means that every time it’s up to Donnie to choose the disguise, it’s not up for discussion. They’re going to be old ladies. Period.
But the most interesting part of this scene is Donatello's answer to Leo's question.
You would think that blending in would be the main goal, but no. Donnie’s main goal with his chosen disguise is: comfort. He’s not willing to sacrifice his own comfort just to make other people comfortable with his presence.
He’ll wear a disguise if he must, but only on his own terms.
And I’m happy that he can set his boundary and stick to it.
Never change, Donnie, never change…
○○○○
…Does anyone else see Leo’s old lady drip?! Where did he get those pearls from? Forget the pearls, where did he get the pantyhose? Did he style his own wig? How long did it take for him to put on his makeup? What color eyeshadow is that? Look at those lashes! Look at those bazongas! He put so much work into his fit, no wonder he received a compliment.
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