#will it just be a random announcement like good omens? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ineffableaddiction · 2 months

Text

Part 15: New Beginnings

A Good Omens Fan Fic

Crowley pulled into a vague spot by the curb near the bookshop, opened his door and looked around. He didn’t see Muriel. Aziraphale was almost at the door, when he suddenly stopped and turned towards Crowley. “I’m afraid I don’t have any keys.” He tried to smile, but Crowley could see the devastation of being locked out of his home, their home.

Approaching the entrance, Crowley took his set of keys and handed them to the angel. “Keep them.” It’s not that either one of them needed keys to enter the bookshop, but it was the lack of having them that saddened Aziraphale. He took the keys Crowley offered and unlocked the bookshop.

“Alright then, I should probably go find Muriel.” Crowley announced, walking into the bookshop and closing the door behind them.

“Yes, that would probably be best.” Aziraphale walked through the shop into the back room, where he stored some of his favorite books. Crowley followed.

Aziraphale was writing something. Crowley waited, and then read. “Little miracle? Allow us to talk freely?” Crowley shook his head. The last time they tried a little miracle it didn’t work out as expected.

“I really should find Muriel.” Crowley took off his shades and set them down on a random surface. He wasn’t sure if Aziraphale would be there when he returned, making the leaving part of that plan almost impossible to accomplish.

He took a step towards Aziraphale, not really knowing why. They stood in silence, quietly staring at one another, with the pending separation at the forefront of their minds. Aziraphale closed the gap between them. “I…”

After a moment, Crowley answered quietly. “Me too.”

Aziraphale initially meant to step away, but without thinking brought his hand up and touched Crowley’s cheek. “Oh, Crowley… I…”

His face betrayed every feeling he was having, and Crowley’s reciprocated. Neither knew how to express what they were to each other, but still they both knew.

Aziraphale felt the tears and tried to fight them. Slowly, gently Crowley leaned in and wrapped his arms around his angel. Aziraphale clung to him, and they held each other like it was the last time they’d be together, because it just might be. With the closeness, Crowley became more aware of the danger they might be in. He stepped back, and looked at Aziraphale. He mouthed “Ask me now.” and walked into the main room of the bookshop. Aziraphale followed.

“Crowley, I was rather hoping that you would reconsider my previous offer. It still stands.” Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who was already hiding behind his dark glasses. “Come back to heaven with me!” He begged as best as he could.

There was some back and forth, his plead was quickly rebuked, and Crowley left. Aziraphale sat down in his chair, waiting to see what would happen next.

What neither of them realized was the the intensity of their physical and emotional connection changed something around them. Even if someone was trying to watch them, it would have been impossible unless they were physically present. A cocoon of something flowed from them, surrounding the bookshop and expanding, encapsulating most of London and parts of an isolated road in the countryside.

This phenomenon, on a large scale, had only occurred three times previously. The first was in Rome, around the time an emperor had been killed. The second was during the revolution in France. The third, in London, had been protecting the bookshop for over eighty years.

But this was the most expansive. Both Crowley and Aziraphale’s main concern during their recent time together was protecting the other. The strength of their commitment to their group of two created its own miracle when they gave part of themselves to the other freely.

While both of them may not have noticed, others definitely did. And some of them were not happy.

After wandering around the neighborhood, when Crowley found Muriel they were sitting at a cafe, coffee and scones on the table in front of them, and an unknown human that Muriel appeared to be having an intense conversation with sitting at their side. He stood nearby, observing them for a brief time.

“Muriel, it’s time to go back to the bookshop.” Crowley said, drawing both of their attention. His head turned towards the human. “Who’s your friend?”

Muriel was beaming. Crowley briefly wondered what was wrong with them.

“This is Aimee. We’ve been talking for awhile now and she knows a lot of things.”

The human smiled at Crowley, and he felt that she through his glasses. She asked if he wanted to join them.

“I have to go back to the bookshop,” he declined the invitation, “But thank you.” Looking back at Muriel, “You should be coming back too.”

Muriel stopped smiling and looked a little sad. The human put an arm around Muriel saying, “Don’t be sad! We can meet up tomorrow if you’d like! What’s your mobile?” The human grabbed their mobile phone and got ready to enter a new number.

“I don’t have a mobile.” Muriel wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but the human was asking for it and they didn’t have it, so maybe it was bad.

The human stood up and walked onto the sidewalk. Looking back at Muriel, she teased, “Well, why don’t you show me where this bookshop is so I know where to find you?”

Muriel nodded enthusiastically and joined Aimee on the street, walking towards the bookshop, both deep in conversation. Crowley trailed behind them, a bit confused and unsure of why Muriel was so interested in a specific human for no reason that was apparent.

The two continued talking the entire stroll back. When they reached their destination, Muriel invited her new friend to come in, so the human followed Muriel into the bookshop.

Crowley stood outside of the door for awhile, incredulous. Now they were letting random people into their inner sanctuary? This wasn’t normal. He sighed, and walked in.

His eyes went to Aziraphale, who was being introduced to Muriel’s new pet. The human was excitedly discussing what wondrous things that books were, and the look on Aziraphale’s face let Crowley know the he would be losing this battle. Muriel and the human were sitting on the sofa, Aziraphale was at his desk and they were discussing A Consolation of Philosophy for reasons Crowley didn’t care to try to understand.

He was going to go to his room, but decided against it. If Aziraphale would only be on Earth temporarily, he would spend as much time as possible with him. He made sure all the blinds were closed, and found none open. That wasn’t surprising since the shop hadn’t been open, outside of fifteen minutes, for a long time. He walked over and stood behind Aziraphale’s chair, leaning on its back, and listened to the conversation.

They had just changed topics, discussing The Republic, and the human was actually able to decently converse on it, as far as Crowley could tell, especially based on Aziraphale’s responses. Muriel was sitting beside the human, still smiling but not able to join in the discussion because she’d not read much on philosophy.

The human seemed to realize Muriel’s silence, reached out and placed a hand on Muriel’s arm, asking, “What book is your favorite?”

Aziraphale seemed a bit shocked by the display of affection from a human, and a new human at that. Crowley moved to sit on the arm of the chair, and they exchanged a glance.

Muriel thought for a moment. “I read a book called They Both Die at the End. It was set in the future, and they had people that called humans and told them when they would die.”

Crowley looked at Muriel, and a very confused Aziraphale smiled and replied, “I don’t believe I’ve read that particular book.” Crowley turned towards Aziraphale as he spoke, and Aziraphale glanced towards him nervously.

The human didn’t seem to notice. She hadn’t read that book either, but was asking a happy Muriel more questions, which Muriel gladly responded to. Aziraphale watched them as they had their discussion, smiling contentedly at the scene before him. Crowley felt like he was missing something. The entire situation was just weird.

Aziraphale stood up and excused himself, and indicated that Crowley should follow him.

Crowley smiled at Muriel and the human, still confused but happy to be escaping the situation. He gave a little wave and followed Aziraphale.

When they got to the back room and closed the door, Crowley looked at Aziraphale. “What was that?”

Aziraphale laughed. “Apparently, Muriel has made a friend. Do you see how happy they are?” He was beaming, and Crowley relaxed a little. Aziraphale had always been better with humans, so if he didn’t find it odd for Muriel to bring one home, then it was probably okay. Aziraphale was smiling, which made Crowley happy.

Becoming a little nervous, Crowley asked, “So, what are the plans for tonight? Will you be here in the morning?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I should be able to stay tomorrow, but I do need to leave after that. I have a lot of work to do.”

Letting out a small sigh, Crowley asked if Aziraphale wanted to go to the pub, or possibly have some wine. Crowley could use a drink.

They left the room and let Muriel and their friend know they were departing, then walked to the pub. Crowley ordered drinks while Aziraphale secured seating. He glanced at his surroundings, and felt like he’d been here just yesterday, but knowing this was probably the last visit.

After setting their drinks on the table, Crowley sat across from Aziraphale. He poured himself a glass from the bottle he’d procured, and Aziraphale had a sherry. Raising his glass for a toast, Crowley thought for a moment before saying, “To God’s great plan,” his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aziraphale stopped smiling and looked at Crowley nervously. “You know, I don’t mind a joke…”

“Alright, alright. So why don’t you start it then?”

After thinking about it, Aziraphale raised his glass. “To us.” Their glasses touched, and Crowley, clearly caught off guard, replied in a voice filled with several emotions. “To us.”

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfiction #some things do last forever #muriel has adopted a human #books bring everyone together

17 notes · View notes

marvelsuperfangirl · 2 years

Text

Nemesis

Part 2

The party was still going smoothly inside, people dancing, drinking and disgustingly making out…

“Oh for fuck’s sake” you groaned

Even all the holy water in the world couldn’t clean your eyes from the sight of Bucky, sucking the soul out of a random girl, who seemed to appreciate it, the way she hugged him, while letting his devilish tongue slide down her throat.

You swallowed back your incoming need to throw up and carried on walking around in search for a friendly face. As you were about to round the corner to the kitchen, someone passed an arm around your shoulders, yanking you against their body.

“Hey Girl! “

Natasha was grinning at you, in a way that betrayed her tipsy state. Right behind her you noticed Steve, who despite in a passionate conversation with Sam waved at you.

As if understanding your distress, she walked the two of you into the kitchen, followed bu the guys.

“So… We’ve seen you coming back from the garden, where there’s apparently currently no one”

She let go of you to hop on the counter, moving as dramatically a she managed while being drunk out of her ass, giving what seems to be a teasing look.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

Even Steve and Sam, which latter rarely shut up after a few drinks, fell silent.

You gave your friend your best resting bitch face.

“Wanda” you let out, arching yyour eyebrows to show how much of a stupid question that was.

“Aw!! You’d look so good together” she cooed I would’ve never bet you had a crush on her, but I’m cheering for you two!”

Your face fell at the slurs she just uttered before turning to the guys.

“Is she serious?”

“Well, in her defense, she was really hyped up at the idea of you kissing the hell out of someone in the garden…Almost like a matchmaker, making her only money on you” Sam laughed.

Steve joined in, clearly not knowing where to find his place in this whole nonsense.

As you turned back to Nat, you tapped her shoulder, gently.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I wasn’t kissing any guy…or Wanda…”

A scoff broke the silence, at least as silent as a kitchen during a party can be, announcing the arrival of your most dreadful omen.

“Guys already didn’t want to approach you now even girls. What is left for you except animals? Or inanimate things?

His tone slashed through the room, plunging everyone into a sphere of awkwardness.

“Bucky be nice, please”

He broke into a grin, turning to his best friend.

“I am being nice. I’ve said far worse”

Steve stood between the two of you, raising an eyebrow at what he was implying, while carrying on glaring at him.

“Don’t worry Steve, your friend must have skipped the numerous evolution stage leading to politeness, it’s incurable”

“Says the one who’s still at the level of beauty of a cavewoman”

“Okay! Both of you, time out! We’re here to have fun, not have a 5 years old-like banter contest” Sam interrupted.

You leaned back against the counter, next to Nat, who leaned against you while blindly wrapping her arms around your neck, almost hitting you square in the face. But you were grateful for the gesture of comfort.

“Don’t listen to him, you know you’re adorable”

You simply hummed, glancing at Bucky who was eyeing you with an annoyingly mocking face”

But you eye contact was quick to be broken. He looked down, a few before you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket.

And as eager as you were to avoid any kind of interaction with him, you pulled the device out, lifting it enough to be able to read the notification above Nat’s arms.

“Mom added you to a chatroom”

With furrowed eyebrows, you tapped on the notification, which opened onto a chatroom, where already a few messages has been sent.

“Welcome to the Barnes / Y/L/N conjoint holiday chat. Y/N and Bucky, since you’re both coming home, we thought it was the perfect occasion for a reunion. We booked a chalet up in the mountain where we’ll all spend Christmas and New Year. See you in two weeks.”

As you read over the text, you felt your blood run cold upon realizing what it was implying.

You lowered your phone, discovering Bucky, face distorted by anger, which was currently directed at you.

From then on, you could say that’s how Bucky Barnes ruined your holidays.

7 notes · View notes

indieninja92 · 2 years

Text

📣✨ Good Omens Tarot Deck Charity Raffle - FAQ 🥰

Hello friends! If you saw my previous post, you'll know I'm running a charity raffle with these hand-drawn, book!omens tarot cards as the prize. You can find a more in-depth post, and more photos of the deck, at this link.

The gist of it is:

You make a donation to the charity of your choice

Send me a screenshot of your receipt

I'll accept entries until midnight UK time on November 28th 2022

I'll announce the winner, selected at random, on November 30th

Thank you everyone who's already shared and donated - we've raised almost £600 together already! 🤩

Now, just to address a couple of questions people have asked in the last week:

One donation = one entry, and you can enter as many times as you like.

You can donate as much or as little as you want. It won't affect your chances at all.

You can send me screenshots of your receipts either through Tumblr DMs, Asks or Submissions.

You don't have to share any personal information with me - I don't need your name or address or anything like that! Just some evidence that you donated. I am tracking who donates how much, but that's just so I can say things like "we've raised almost £600 together already!" (I have a spreadsheet and everything 😍)

It's fine if you were going to donate anyway. I know many of us give as much as we're comfortable with already, and it's all good money to good causes.

I'll pay for postage, wherever you are. If you've got an address, I'll send it you. Don't worry about it.

If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to drop me a line. And please, share this as much as you're able - the more people see it, the more we can raise!

#indie's tarot raffle #good omens #book omens #aziraphale #crowley #raffle #good omens art #good omens tarot #good omens fanartists

5 notes · View notes

mathias-wanabe · 1 month

Text

Fellows folk and fae, welcome to my page

I guess since I post things on here I should have an intro? Though it’s probably not needed I’m jumping on the bandwagon anyways.

I don’t exactly have a dependable name on here yet so I guess you can call me Mathias (totaly didn’t steal the name from the announcer :>

stuff I like :>

Other then loving chonny jash my interest, in no particular order are,

Outer wilds

Deltarune

Backfirewall_

Tally hall/miracle musical

Hollow knight

Good omens

Perhaps more if I remember the things I like.

I mostly draw chonny jash related art, occasionally will say random things, but usually I just stay as one of Thoes background you forget about the moment I’m out of view.

DNI:

I got the average DNI, basically just don’t hate on others (saying mean things is kinda rude to do) AND If i do something that I don’t realize is bad, please let me know! I’m relatively new to this app and I’m not a very social person so I can be kinda dumb sometimes:) but I’ll be glad to fix my errors if I can!

Not sure what else to put here so here’s some fun facts?

I have the diverging of nuros, specifically adhd, and if I get the SLIGHTEST chance I will info dump so much that you’ll forget why you were talking to me in the first place.

I also like to write a bit, I have my own chonny jash-verse god AU in mind but I’ve only really posted it to the CJ fan discord. (It’s also very loosely made)

Lmk if yall wana see it here!

My favorite album of CJ is GW/TNLH despite never reading any of the books. I plan to one day hopefully soon. (And if there are any of you ao3 writers thinking of making a Fanfic for that album this is your sign to do so I am VERY content deprived)

Well. It’s obvious that I write alota stuff :/

Anyways that’ll be it for now! I’ll update as I live on but until my next appearance on this app I will say my goodbyes.

And I shall see you when I do

: >

1 note · View note

mopeytropey · 2 years

Note

That's fair! Who am I kidding, I'll read anything you decide to grace us with!

This was the last thing I wrote for 'apu' back in ... November of 2020 😳😳😳😳😳 [in the neglected 'beer buds' series that will likely never be finished 😣]

unedited and incomplete, but have at it!

When Lexa wakes, sunlight is not yet slanting through the atrium ceiling, a good indication of the early hour. A dull grey fills the room from the harbor windows where fog hangs low, draping across the water and winding its tendrils through the tall sea grass along the shore. It looks like an omen of autumn mornings on the horizon—the predictable warmth of August fading into the crisp and cooling temperatures of September. As Lexa blinks herself towards consciousness, it is to find Clarke’s side of the bed cool, and empty, and cast in greying light.

Panic balloons in her chest despite the logic that tells her Clarke is likely downstairs or in the bathroom. Still, the feeling of being left to wake alone leaves a haunting ache in her chest. She slides long legs from beneath the covers and swallows thickly, listening for signs of Clarke’s presence on the floor below or in the en suite. The house is silent, but she tries to quell her surging unease as she quietly pads down the winding staircase in her tee shirt and shorts, a nervous hand skimming along the banister.

Clarke is draped in a thin cotton throw, facing the water in a chair by the windows, when Lexa quietly enters the sitting room. That she’s not scrolling her phone on the sofa, or drinking coffee for that matter, sends Lexa’s heart racing with irregularity.

“Hi.” Lexa announces herself quietly, her voice just a touch above the quiet so as not to disrupt the stillness.

Clarke must have heard her descend the stairs because she doesn’t startle as she turns to catch Lexa’s approaching form over her shoulder. Her mouth lifts, but it is not an actual smile.

“Hey.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“I don’t know. A bit.”

Lexa swallows down her unease yet again, but Clarke doesn’t notice. She has already returned her faraway gaze to the drifting fog along the water. In the nine months that she and Clarke have been together, it certainly isn’t the first time she has seen her visibly distraught.

But, it is the first time that Lexa doesn’t immediately know why.

Even as she asks, “Is everything okay?” Lexa already knows that it isn’t.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Clarke answers. It’s an honest response that still tells Lexa absolutely nothing.

She moves closer to the leather reading chair where Clarke sits curled around herself. She reaches out to needlessly tuck strands of hair behind Clarke’s ear, feeling timid in her movements for the first time in ages. Clarke leans into the touch, at least, turning her head after a moment to kiss Lexa’s palm. It eases the knot that had twisted in her stomach, if only for a moment.

“Do you want me to start the coffee?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Okay.”

Even as she waits for the kettle, Lexa gives Clarke space by remaining in the kitchen. The fact that Clarke doesn’t immediately join her, leads to further unease. Her mind whirs with concern, weight propped against the granite of the kitchen island where her hands grip its edge. She replays the preceding hours and days, eyes glazing over as she weighs conversations and interactions with Clarke, looking for clues that might indicate the cause for her despondence.

The previous night they’d ordered in, Clarke citing she was too tired to cook, but otherwise happy and conversational. After dinner, Lexa had worked on tying up loose ends of an ongoing project for her pitch with Indra in the morning. Meanwhile, Clarke had laid on the couch watching TV, shouting random commentary to her about characters in a show that Lexa has never seen. Like so many other evenings together, it had been spectacularly mundane. A nondescript comfort of shared company and familiar routines. Lexa had fallen asleep easily at Clarke’s side and slept peacefully without waking, even as Clarke had clearly awoken much earlier.

The slow, shrill whistle of the boiling kettle breaks her thoughts, and Lexa pushes off the counter with a blink of stern concentration. Clarke shuffles into the kitchen as the coffee brews, no doubt lured by the aroma filling the air.

“I’m going to take a shower, okay?”

She moves in closely to nuzzle against Lexa’s shoulder, knowing that Lexa will envelop her slumped shoulders without hesitation. Once Clarke is pressed against her, head tucked beneath her chin, Lexa exhales. With Clarke so near, she can feel the coil of anxiety in her chest begin to slacken. Whatever it is that has disrupted her usual disposition will eventually reveal itself, when Clarke is ready, and Lexa will be there to comfort and support as needed. Until then, she offers what she can, careful not to overstep.

“You know that if you need to talk about anything.” She lets the sentiment trail off while her hands soothe patterns up and down the length of Clarke’s back.

“I know.” The answer is muffled against Lexa’s sleep shirt, but Clarke pulls back so that they stand facing a moment later. “I just have this thing to do at my mom’s, and I’m not particularly looking forward to it.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, you have your big meeting with Indra today—I’m gonna be fine. I promise.”

“My meeting should be done by 2:00.” Lexa’s arms still circle low on Clarke’s waist, keeping her within inches so that she can see the dull, grey morning reflected in Clarke’s eyes.

She moves in closer again, her own arms wrapped securely around Lexa’s middle as she lays her head against Lexa’s chest. “Can we just do more of this when I get home?”

A kiss to the mussed blonde curls of Clarke’s head precedes Lexa’s response. “Of course.”

:::

Despite the persistent distraction of her irregular morning with Clarke, Lexa remains laser focused during her pitch. In her measured tone, she keeps the clients (and Indra) rapt with her every word. Lexa seamlessly integrates the varied facets of her pitch while addressing anticipated questions or concerns from their client before they can be voiced.

Indra doesn’t quite smile when it’s all over, nor ever, for that matter, but Lexa can sense her satisfaction at the meeting’s eventual conclusion as they shake hands. The partnership will breed more visibility for Indra’s brand in previously untapped arenas across the Commonwealth, and Lexa heads out of the Trikru offices into the afternoon sun with a buoyant sense of accomplishment.

The gloom of the early morning has been vanquished by a bright and cloudless afternoon sky. She slips sunglasses over her eyes and checks her messages for any word from Clarke, but it’s been radio silence for hours, apart from Lexa’s text of I love you being answered by a string of heart emojis at least three lines long.

She has two messages from Lincoln—one wishing her good luck on her meeting and the other an ask about their plans to run a new route later in the week—and an unexpected text from Octavia, who has only twice before communicated with Lexa outside the construct of their working relationship.

Octavia Blake (1:37PM): I’m picking you up. Where are you?

Lexa stalls her stride towards the bus stop in a spike of confusion. She’s still contemplating how to respond when a sleek, slate grey coupe pulls up to the curb outside of Trikru’s main doors, and the passenger door opens to reveal Lincoln’s hulking form as he exits.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Um. Hi.”

He approaches her with an easy gait, just two or three strides from the car where Lexa now supposes Octavia is behind the wheel.

“You can hop in the front with O. I’ve got to run in and grab some product.” Lincoln must see the way Lexa’s confusion is attempting to work its way into an actual question because he claps a soft hand to her shoulder cap and says, “Don’t worry, Octavia will explain.”

It doesn’t really put her at ease, and even as Lincoln bounds off towards the front entrance, Lexa’s intuitions crawl up the back of her neck. There’s no way that this isn’t somehow connected to Clarke.

“Yo.” Octavia ducks her head to be seen from the open passenger door.

Lexa slides into the front seat of Octavia’s car and can’t stop herself from asking, “What the hell is going on?”

“Other than Clarke being an idiot?”

A flex of her jaw and the low register of her commanding tone when she turns to say: Octavia, has Clarke’s closest friend exhaling an apology for her glib response.

“Sorry. It’s just that it’s Jake Day. And, also Clarke is, actually, an idiot.”

“It’s wha—”

“Today is the anniversary of the day that we lost, um, we lost Clarke’s dad.”

Lexa has never before seen Octavia Blake struggle to form words on anything in any context ever in the time she’s known her. Her stomach twists again in discomfort.

“Oh.”

Realization clicks into place, but Lexa’s relief at having been clued in is momentary. Further discomfort runs up her spine that this was something Clarke clearly didn’t want her to know—or, at the very least, wasn’t ready to share.

“She knows I’m here, by the way,” Octavia clarifies. “And, that I’m telling you this.”

Lexa’s anxieties abate only minimally. “Okay, well, then why didn’t she—”

“This is the part where Clarke is a big dummy. Because even though you’re probably one of the only people who can make her feel better through this whole shitty day, she can’t bring herself to talk to you about it, or god forbid ask for help.”

The admission fractures Lexa’s heart, a pain she carries on Clarke’s behalf. There was that defining moment in their friendship, an audible hesitation in Clarke’s tone that Lexa can still hear, ringing clearly in her memories. It’s as if that conversation on the boat—Jake’s boat—had happened earlier that day instead of months prior.

“Where is she now?”

“Abby’s. We always spend the day there. Tradition, ya know?”

I just have this thing to do at my mom’s, and I’m not particularly looking forward to it.

Pieces of the puzzle from her troubling morning with Clarke continue to snap in place.

Lexa swallows harshly. “Right.”

“It’s usually a good time, actually. Raven cooks too much food, Abby opens too many bottles of prosecco, and we just spend the day remembering all of our favorite moments and shit. But, I think with everything that’s happened this year, it’s hitting Clarke harder than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Lexa has removed her sunglasses, folding an arm of her wayfarers into the opening of her plaid button-down. “What makes things so different this year?”

“I mean, you happened to her, jackass.” Octavia backhands Lexa’s bicep with a gentle thwap, smiling through her exasperation. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this whole finding her soulmate thing, or whatever, has been a pretty big deal for Clarke. She’s really, fucking happy.”

Lexa exhales a nervous laugh, looking away from Octavia to peer out the window. Reflexively, her insatiable curiosity begs her to ask Octavia to detail the minutiae of every, single word Clarke has ever said about her and their relationship. But, Lincoln is headed back to the car with two cases of Trikru product tucked under his arms and a bounce in his step. Lexa has no idea how to address even a fraction of what Octavia has just said, and instead focuses on what she knows to be true.

“I don’t think I had much to do with that,” she demures. “She was already such a genuinely happy person when I met her.”

Lincoln rounds the car to the rear, and Octavia pops the trunk without prompting so that he can load the beer.

“Clarke’s always been very gifted at playing the clown, getting the laugh—she’s great at feigning happiness for the sake of other people.” She turns the engine once Lincoln has unlatched the door and ducked his massive frame into the back seat. “It’s not like she was a miserable person before, but this year has definitely been a significant change.”

Lexa watches Octavia’s expression in search of her own response. As the moment stretches, she realizes: she has none. It is her life that has been reinvigorated, turned on its head, and irrevocably improved by Clarke’s influence. Dumbly, Lexa never considered her presence might have had the same effect on Clarke’s.

Lincoln drums his hands against the leather headrest of Octavia’s seat in the ensuing silence, massaging her shoulders a second later. “We good?”

Octavia seems to await Lexa’s response, pausing with her hand on the gear shift until Lexa glances back at Lincoln with a definitive nod. “Yeah. We’re good.”

Lincoln and Lexa both snap into their seatbelts as Octavia merges them gracefully back onto the two-lane road and away from Trikru.

As conversations fall silent to the sounds of swelling music, Lexa unlocks her phone and pulls up her messages with Clarke. Octavia is bringing me to your mom’s house.

I know, Clarke immediately responds. I asked her to.

:::

“First time for me too,” Lincoln says lowly as he and Lexa unload the beer from Octavia’s trunk.

Her face must show some hint of trepidation with the way Lincoln is smiling at her, though outwardly she maintains her subtle, determined calm. Apprehension has begun to ebb, and more than ever, she needs to wrap her arms around Clarke’s shoulders and pull her in close. Lexa relaxes the harsh shape of her jaw and returns Lincoln’s gentle smile—if nothing else, she is comforted by the knowledge that they are experiencing the day’s events together.

The warmth of the late summer afternoon hasn’t been saturated by humidity. Even in the rolled sleeves of her button down and light cotton slacks, Lexa stands comfortably in the pebbled driveway of Abby Griffin’s ostentatious Colonial, shaded by the giant oaks and poplars along the tree-lined street.

“It’s good you’re here,” Octavia says, joining them near the rear of her car and sliding an arm around Lincoln’s waist as she is dwarfed by his height and mass. “Both of you.”

Though Lincoln continues to hold his warm smile, Lexa can still see some fraction of her own uncertainty mirrored in his gaze as their eyes meet.

“It’s not an imposition? Us being here on such a significant day for all of you?”

“That’s why you’re here,” Octavia answers with an eye roll. “It’s a significant day, and—” she cranes her neck to look up at Lincoln, catching his eye as her mouth quirks into the suggestion of a smile “—we need our people here to experience it with us.”

Their lips meet in the next breath, some brief reassurance between them that is over just as quickly as Lexa averts her eyes and shifts the case of beer on her hip. Her hands perspire from the late afternoon heat as much as from a need to have Clarke within reach as soon as possible.

“Should we head inside?”

“Let’s go through the back,” Octavia says, nodding towards an iron gate along the back of the house, and Lexa swallows roughly with a nod of her own, anticipation bubbling in her chest.

She and Lincoln fall into step behind Octavia, who navigates the property as if it were her own—in some ways, Lexa realizes, this home and all it represents is woven into Octavia’s existence as much as it is a part of Clarke’s.

Just as Octavia unlatches the gate, leading them into a grand back garden in full bloom with a slate patio and perfectly trimmed topiaries, the door at the back of the house opens and out walks Clarke in loose-fitting clothes and bare feet. Lexa feels her chest decompress, and almost drops the case of beer in her impatience. Clarke doesn’t necessarily look as if she’s doing much better than when she’d left the house some seven hours earlier, but Lexa is nevertheless relieved to have her within sight.

“Hey.” Clarke’s gaze flickers briefly to Lincoln and Octavia before she is clearing her throat to meet Lexa’s eye. “I heard you guys pull in.”

“Here.” Octavia reaches for the beer Lexa is holding, not even waiting for her response before she’s whisked it out of Lexa’s hands. “We’ll take these inside and check on Raven.”

Lexa nods, yet unable to properly communicate her assent because her day has changed significantly in the past thirty minutes, and she’s only just begun to process.

Lincoln seems to understand the quiet uncertainty in her gaze as he is quick to add, “Take as long as you need.”

“Thanks,” Clarke answers as Octavia and Lincoln head towards the still open doorway. She squeezes a hand to Lincoln’s forearm as he passes and then they disappear inside.

“How are you—”

“How did it go—”

Lexa exhales and Clarke shifts on her feet as their words trip over one another. It’s only another beat of silence before Lexa is taking a step forward and Clarke is falling into an embrace that feels desperately overdue.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Clarke isn’t crying, but her voice is broken in a way that Lexa knows she is fighting off tears, perhaps having cried enough already before Lexa’s arrival.

“I am too.”

There’s a stretch of shared breathing then. Lexa feels her entire body relax to Clarke’s steady inhales and exhales. Just the two of them stood in silence, backdropped by the summer sounds of a quiet city: passing cars, bird songs, and the intermittent, joyful screeching of carefree children.

I would have been here sooner.

I wish you could have told me.

Are you okay?

I’m so sorry.

Lexa swallows back these words, weightless and worthless to them both. “I’m here now. What can I do?”

Her hands running slow, soothing patterns along the length of Clarke’s back and a collective sigh exhales between them. Clarke tucks in closer.

“Just this.”

#apu #a pleasant undoing #beer buds #fic writing #clexa fic #wow this feels like another lifetime ago

46 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 3 years

Note

💭

Ayyy Congrats Chlo! Can I get a 💭 of Noah when his girl is pregnant? Like how is he through it snd when she's in labor?

no more requests, the sleepover is over, I'm just finishing up what's in my inbox!

I got so carried away with this

he would be so good by the labour stage

but lets be real, he takes a hot minute to get adjusted

now, don't get me wrong, this was planned

and he is damn excited to be a dad

you've been taking folic acid and vitamin D and all the good stuff

and you were both elated and crying when the test came back positive

but he does take a moment to actually realise what it means

like he did not think that far through, if he's honest

rubbing your back throughout morning sickness

but like, he doesn't quite get it

you have a significantly lowered sex drive

breast tenderness and morning sickness and he is kinda sexually frustrated

it takes him a moment to adjust to that because y'all had been pretty active before, and he has to take care of himself now

not to mention, you're a lot more sleepy

he knew you'd get sleepy, but he expected it to come later, not as early in the pregnancy as the first few weeks

so there's a lot of things that have to be cancelled

like concerts and things

but he was looking forwards to them

and it causes some arguments to begin with

like when he went to the concert with boyd instead

and you'd put a blanket and pillow on the couch for him

or the argument that came with him insisting that he could ride the bike a little longer

and the little strop he gets in when you throw out all the foods on the list your midwife gave you after your first antenatal appointment

"you can't eat them, but I can! why do we have to throw it all out?"

"because you're supposed to be supporting me!"

"I am supporting you, but I still want to eat my food!"

"fine, keep it then!"

and he feels bad two weeks later when you go to game night

and derek and stiles have laid out an awesome looking spread

with charcuterie boards and cheeses and crackers and wine

and he knows how much you love all of that stuff

and you literally can't have any of it

in fact, you brought your own meal, which is a salad and plain crackers and it's not exactly game night material

and so he does some research into food and writes down everything you can and can't have

and he watches a video on best recipes for pregnancy and he makes one for you

a little surprise dinner for when you get home from work

"what's all this?"

"well, you know, your meals look kinda' miserable. but, you're literally growing our child, so you should get to eat nice things, and I googled a good recipe for pregnancy safe meals."

noah getting laid that night

and afterwards, when you're asleep on his chest, he realises how easy it is when he stops thinking it's gonna be a struggle

at around about 7 weeks, you start getting more emotional

crying more at movies and getting mad at random things and being a lot clingier than usual

which he doesn't mind, of course

but it freaks him out sometimes

"noah, what the fuck?" while in tears and he's freaking out because he has no idea how bad he fucked up or what he did "there's a dead bird in the garden, noah, that's got to be some kind of omen, oh my god, what if you die? why would you just die, noah?"

so he cleans up the dead bird

but now you're mad because you're worried about him abandoning you

"baby, if I was gonna' abandon you then why would I have married you, huh?"

and it takes him a hot minute to get used to that too

however, he also learns how to direct it at other people for his own amusement

"hey, baby, did you know that stiles wears socks to bed, even in the summer?"

"you wear socks to sleep in the summer? you're sick, stiles. you're sick. I don't want you near my child, you're weird, you and your socks and your sweaty toes can stay away. you're so gross."

"what the fuck?"

and noah just laughing his ass off about it

you also have to pee a lot more so noah has to take that into account

you're still fully able to go hiking and do the things the two of you love doing

but he has to plan in your pee breaks

not to mention, you're still throwing up every morning

so, he can't plan too much, but he does plan a little weekend getaway for you both

with a privately rented cabin so that you can throw up each morning in peace and don't feel like you're being watched

panicking when you get spotting at week 8

and that really throws you both through a loop

rushing to the hospital and he's unfamiliar with driving your car

so it stresses him out to know he's useless in emergencies

it turns out to be nothing

but noah is pretty sure he's never cried that hard

not to mention, in a public bathroom, just so he didn't scare you

and when he gets home, like, fuck, it's a reality check for him

he starts getting driving lessons

he has a license and all but he's rusty

and he wants to be prepared, so he starts taking lessons

he also starts checking out bigger cars for the two of you

because your little car won't do in a few years

"you know, not that I'm complaining, but I've noticed you aren't wearing bras anymore."

watching your cheeks go fucking warm as you get all embarrassed

"do you wanna go shopping, get some comfier ones?"

"you are gonna go pregnancy bra shopping with me?"

"well, considering how proud I am when I get to go regular bra shopping with you, I think pregnancy bra shopping is the same."

going with you to get tests and scans done

literally crying again when you hear the heartbeat

"we made that, oh my god."

texting everyone he knows when you get your due date estimate

holding your hands when you have to get your pregnancy vaccinations

actually taking notes when the midwife starts talking about making a birthing plan and getting things sorted before you get to the third trimester

and he does a lot of research on birthing plans and starts prepping

going on every shopping trip with you

"I want to get the nursery painted, like, a while before the baby comes. so we can air it out for fumes."

"we can go check samples out this weekend."

"well, I mean, that's soon, like, really?"

"yeah, whatever you want, sunshine."

getting laid again

and when the morning sickness goes away, he starts getting his late morning sleep back

starting to get self-conscious about extra pregnancy weight gain

and noah doing everything he can to reassure you

but as you get into the second trimester, your sex drive suddenly jumps back up

and he fucking loves it

because that's a lot of unprotected sex and a lot of making out and a lot of touching

and honestly, something about it is really turning him on

"baby, I don't know if it's your glow or the fact that I am literally so in love with you, or maybe the months of not having sex, but I've literally never been this hard."

"shut up and fuck me, you can compliment me later."

"'kay."

throughout your second trimester, you get everything done

the nursery gets decorated and the furniture is built and it's perfect

there's only the little touches now, like mobiles and clothes and such

he also bought the new car, and traded yours in

and he arranged for you to get lessons in it too, so you know how to drive a bigger car before you get too pregnant to drive safely

crying the first time the baby moves. so much fucking crying.

and getting so excited every time

it's few and far between in the middle of your second trimester, but it's so meaningful

starting to go to pregnancy classes

and he also signs you both up for a pregnancy exercise class

that is supposedly meant to make labour easier because of the pelvic floor exercises

having a few days where you're nervous around him

thinking he did something wrong

"I think I'm gonna want to take an epidural."

"that's what you've been so worried about?"

"well, yeah. I read all these pamphlets about how it's so controversial and sometimes the dads don't like it, an-"

"I want you to be happy, okay? it's gonna be a happy time, so whatever you want, we'll do, okay? I want you to smile when you look back on the birth of our baby."

"I love you, so damn much."

"I love you so damn much."

finding out the sex of the baby, neither of you wants to wait

telling everyone it's a secret until the baby shower

your bump really starting to come in at the end of the second trimester

as well as headaches and backaches and stretch marks

and noah always making sure to kiss it better

a lot of nice warm baths and washing your hair for you

the baby starts responding to touch and sound, though

noah starts talking to the baby a lot

telling them about your day and rubbing lotion on your stomach

the baby getting hiccups for the first time

in the beginning of the second trimester, you start choosing names

more tears when you settle on a name

the third trimester is where you really start feeling it

you’ve got mood swings, you’ve got backache, and you’re getting a lot of odd cravings

all of which noah indulges for you

some make him gag and he actually cannot watch you eat it

banning food in bed

it caused an argument but he won that one

announcing the gender at your baby shower

you and noah dressing in white while waiting for everyone’s guesses

it’s a girl!

you announced it via a little cake cutting ceremony that was pink inside

using those last few weeks to decorate the nursery with teddies and buy clothes

when you finally go into labour it’s actually while you’re hanging out with stiles and derek

thinking it’s just cramps for a while

because you’ve been having cramps, you think it’s fine

until

“uh, (Y/N), you know I love you, but did you pee on my couch?”

“excuse me, I did not pee on your couch an- oh my god, they’re contractions.”

noah literally choking on his drink

you rubbing his back as he tries to cough it up

panicking so much that his whole fucking birthing plan goes out of the window

“the bag is at home!”

“what about your pillow?”

“fuck! fuck! fuck!”

derek is the only calm one because stiles is;

“HOLY FUCK, IM GONNA BE AN UNCLE, GIMME A NEICE!”

and noah is

“HOLY FUCK, IM GONNA BE A FATHER!”

so derek coordinates it all while you just kinda sit there and watch it all

“okay, well, her contractions are now, like, eight minutes apart, so maybe we should get a move on.”

telling stiles to take you to the hopsital while he takes noah to pick everything up

and off you go

stiles is fucking buzzing the whole way there

calling your hospital to inform them you’re on your way

getting to the hospital and being greeted by your midwife

“lovely to see you again, mom and dad”

“I DIDN’T MAKE THAT.”

“thanks, stiles.” your midwife being confused. “this is the uncle, they’re twins. dad is on his way.”

“I’M THE UNCLE!”

“stop shouting stiles, the baby won’t come out, you’re scaring it back up.”

“sorry.”

stiles holding your hand

noah arriving five minutes later with more than enough stuff

“I didn’t know which pjs you’d want after so I brought options!”

after a good few hours of labour, and noah being there for all of it, your baby is born

literally crashing right after and sleeping for a while

“‘bout fuckin time you woke up, noah won’t let me see my niece ‘til you have. hurry up.”

“I will punch you so hard you’ll be glad you’re in a hospital.”

“that’s my wife”

“sorry.”

meeting your daughter with noah, and having a moment

because he’s put her in a little pink striped onesie and she’s got a baby beanie on

“she’s got your nose.”

“you can’t tell that, she’s like six hours old.”

“i can hope.”

finally taking her to meet stiles who practically dies on the spot

he cries a lot when he finally gets to hold his niece

“stiles, derek, meet ‘hope claudia stilinski’.”

#9ksleepover #hope stilinski is like emma rapp #i made a new baby character #she’s my new au character pls #i love her #don’t steal her

46 notes · View notes

goodomenscelebration · 4 years

Photo

What’s a birthday celebration without presents?

Good Omens Celebration is happy to announce our first giveaway in honor of the Earth’s Birthday. We’re giving away a pair of pins to 5 randomly selected entrants that reblog or like this post between now and midnight UTC on October 25th, 2020.

The giveaway is open worldwide. Winners will be chosen on October 26th and announced on the Good Omens Celebration blog. Winners will be contacted via Tumblr and have until November 1st to respond.

Do you need to participate or make something for the Good Omens Celebration to enter?

NOPE. Just reblog or like this post and you’re entered.

Can you enter more than once?

Sorry, only one entry will count for the giveaway but you’re free to reblog as may times as you like to promote it.

Can you enter if you’re in (random country)?

YEP. The mod of the Good Omens Celebration is covering shipping worldwide.

Where did these pins come from?

The winged hourglass pin was a prototype made for a Good Omens themed mystery box that unfortunately never happened. The kissing pin was just a lucky bulk find that fit to perfectly not to include.

Have another question?

Drop us a line!

#Good Omens Celebration #Good Omens #Aziraphale #Crowley #Ineffable Husbands

336 notes · View notes

fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 years

Link

When Amazon's version of Good Omens was first unleashed on the masses, a Christian group in America asked thousands of followers to petition Netflix and ask them to cancel the show. Netflix, not Amazon...

Clearly, Return to Order made a mistake of biblical proportions, and we're not just talking about the target of their wrath either.

Listed among their many objections was the show's portrayal of the first humans and the fact that God is voiced by a woman. Funnily enough though, one of the biggest mistakes the group make in this long list of ridiculous statements is their claim that the "angel and demon are good friends".

If the friendship between Aziraphale and Crowley upset them this much, just imagine what they'd think if they realised Good Omens is actually a "love story", as defined by Neil Gaiman himself.

Fans have been shipping the "Ineffable Husbands" ever since Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's book was first published back in 1990. Throughout its six-episode runtime, the show expands on this even further through the chemistry shared by its two leads, Michael Sheen and David Tennant.

Tender moments such as when Aziraphale covers Crowley with one of his wings have led to copious amounts of fan fiction which portray them both as a couple. Sister Mary and even a random passerby make similar assumptions about them at various points on the show. However, attempts to label their relationship as canonically queer are more difficult than they might initially seem.

When asked directly if Crowley and Aziraphale are in a gay relationship together, Gaiman told a fan online that, "They're an angel and a demon, not male humans."

At first, that might seem like a cop-out. After all, the pair are depicted as male, even if they're not in the human sense, and queer baiting is a real issue. Certain scenes in Good Omens certainly read as flirty, and far too often, the LGBTQ+ community are forced to read between the lines or label characters themselves in the absence of overt and meaningful representation.

During a recent interview, we asked Gaiman if he'd considered making this "love story" explicit or more concrete on screen to rectify that. Surely, this would have been the perfect opportunity to canonise these elements of the original text while updating it for modern times?

Gaiman said no, not really, referring back to a line in the book which says, "Angels are sexless unless they specifically make an effort."

He went on to say, "I like the idea that we know Crowley and Aziraphale don't really... these are two ethereal and occult beings who aren't really quite clear on what mammals are about, even. I don't really think that they've sussed complicated human things like gender."

On the one hand, it's easy to see why some fans have interpreted comments like this as an excuse designed to deflect criticism and avoid featuring actual queer characters in the text. However, this particular situation is actually more complicated.

In recent years, a surprising number of authors and screenwriters have declared that their characters are canonically queer, even when there's no mention of it in the original text. JK Rowling is a key offender here, regularly announcing that her books are more diverse than they actually are in a patronising bid to appease the LGBTQ+ community.

Crowley and Aziraphale are more obviously queer than most of these characters who were retroactively altered post-release. Sheen's character in particular is coded with elements of the Victorian Dandy lifestyle which acted as a clear precursor to modern queerness in both fashion and outlook. Still, confirming a sexual relationship between the pair on screen would ultimately rewrite what's considered canon in the book.

That's not to say the pair don't love each other. Gaiman has confirmed more than once that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love, but labels like gay, bi or even pansexual don't quite fit in this instance.

In our interview, Gaiman clarified that their story arc in the show uses "all of the beats of a love story" to make it "purer and more fun".

"Watching them meet, watching the relationship grow, watching the ups and downs of it, watching the huge breakup in the bandstand in episode three, and then watching what happens to them after that."

The idea is that Crowley and Aziraphale don't have sexual desires in the same way humans do because they weren't created for reproductive purposes. Therefore, their love is portrayed as strictly platonic.

Understandably, a number of queer fans have taken offence at this, seeing Gaiman's treatment of these characters as erasure, but comments the author made during a recent Twitter exchange flip that idea on its head entirely.

By saying he "wouldn't exclude the ideas that they are ace [asexual], or aromantic, or trans," Gaiman is actually suggesting that Crowley and Aziraphale could represent areas of sexuality that are all too often ignored both outside and also within the LGBTQ+ community.

Even acknowledging that the ace spectrum exists is rare indeed, and comments from Twitter users below this exchange highlight just how validating this can be. Platonic love can be just as deep as romantic love, so why does sexual desire need to be used as proof that love each other?

Asexual relationships are almost non-existent on screen, so the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale could represent this spectrum is actually far more groundbreaking than people often give Good Omens credit for.

Of course, labels are hugely important and the fight to see them used in this particular context is understandable. However, if Gaiman ever did decide to define the central love story as gay or trans or ace, then that would also trample over other readings which actually mean a lot to more marginalised members of the queer community.

At its heart, Good Omens is all about dismantling binary notions of morality and gender, and however you might want to label them personally, Gaiman has always maintained that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love, no matter what form that might take.

Both the book and the show are undeniably queer in this respect, whichever way you look at it, so this might be the rare instance where it's better to not define what this queerness might entail and instead just celebrate our "heroes" for what they are. Ineffable and in love.

#good omens #neil gaiman #interview #ace omens

2K notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Crew of the Omen.”

A little bit from the other new alien species aboard the ship, as requested. I hope you like it :)

Tesraki

The Tesraki had all worked with humans before, but when they mean they had worked with humans, it was more like they had been around in the area where humans were working and mostly tried to stay out of their way. Between the two younger Tesraki Captio and Subit, they talked a lot about how the soldier Tesraki, Etium had been involved in the Drev war..

They weren’t entirely sure if that was true or not seeing as there were very few Tesraki who had actually survived an encounter with the Drev, but the chunk missing from his ear, and the way he seemed to show so much deference to the humans when they first stepped aboard the ship.

Than and he didn’t seem as afraid of them as the two younger Tesraki were.

And there was a lot to be afraid of

Stepping aboard the human ship, it became very clear that they were entering a different world.

They huddled together behind Etium, their ears drawn back to their heads, their tails tucked together as they stood before the massive room watching as large machines and hovering trucks rolled by. The human voices were raised, yelling up over each other in their guttural chattering call. They had been on the ship before of course, but this would be the first time the doors would be shut behind them.

A group of humans stepped past them, their large armored feet clattering against the ground, their bodies moving like lithe snakes.

There was a lot of money being moved here, and a lot of money being moved very poorly, though none of them were quite sure how to bring that up.

“New meat!”

They turned on the spot to see a human sitting cross legged atop a cargo crate. It showed them his teeth. The two younger Tesraki squealed and backed away hiding behind the older as they looked up at the grinning predator above them.

Etium seemed to be the only one who wasn’t concerned.

“M-meat.” One of them whispered

He wasn’t aware the word accountant meant something different in their culture… that being that they were going to get eaten.

The human slipped down from where he was sitting to land on the floor.

The Tesraki squealed again and backed away.

“Fresh meat is a figure of speech. Just means you are new on the ship. We don’t eat sentient lifeforms.”

They couldn’t help but notice that he left out the non-sentient lifeforms. When the humans looked at them, they looked at them hungrily, like maybe fresh meat had not been some sort of figure of speech like it was claiming. Still, they kept relatively quiet unsure of what to believe.

“Don’t listen to them, they just like to mess with people.”

The Tesraki turned in a sharp circle watching as another human came marching up through the ship long fur billowing about their head.

“They don’t mean any harm. It's just a social hazing ritual they like.”

“I am familiar.”

The two younger tesraki glanced at Etium ears pulled back.

That would have been nice to know earlier.

They looked back, watching as the doors receded into the distance, and knew they were walking into a den of predators.

Celzex

Everything here was big, very big, and it sort of managed to make them very angry. They marched onto the ship, though their marching didn’t get them more than a few feet onto the human ship before they almost got stepped on by a marching column of humans. They froze in place led by their leader who stood tall before them, the very real son of lord Celex, Lord Avex.

He waited, and they waited, for his great stature to attract the attention of the humans.

Of course, it did not take long until his presence stopped another column of humans bringing cargo in from the other side of the hanger. They drew to a halt just before the Celzex, their eyes widening in fear. A few of them made vocalizations of confusion and intimidation, that manifested as very high pitched squeals for a human. They lifted their hands before their faces and chest as if to guard themselves from the danger that the Celzex possessed.

“Lord Avex, we were told of your imminent arrival.” One of the humans announced bowing his head, “There was an…. Extensive briefing about how to treat your eminence.” They bowed their heads in that way humans tend to have to show difference towards their betters.

“Please, allow me and my comrades to escort you to your quarters.” The humans lowered themselves slightly towards the ground, dropping onto one knee, “As a sign of difference to your great status please use these men as your mounts, for the ship is large and we have a long way to go.

There was a silence as Lord Avex waited eyeing the humans with some concern.

They were a proud race.

From the corners of their eyes, the Celzex could see the humans shifting nervously, probably out of fear and awe to how great and terrible the Celzex truly were in such numbers.

“We will accept your offer, human.”

The humans prostrated themselves even further, lowering towards the ground so the Celzex could blimp aboard, first onto their knees and then onto their backs, and then onto their shoulders as they took back to their feet.

From the back of a human they were very high up, and very impressive.

Lord Avex was sure that their group cut a very imposing parade across the ship. The Celzex atop their human mounds, two of the most dangerous species in the galaxy.

And they did turn more than a few heads as they went, with wide eyes and open mouths the other humans stared and made similar sounds of awe and fear as had the others.

The humans on which they rode appeared more than smug, their head lifted pridefully clearly pleased at those they were able to carry.

It was a great honor after all, and who could blame them for thinking so.

The other humans must have been jealous to ferry along such important figures as the Celzex.

And of course they were eventually brought to their quarters on one of the middle decks. It had all the things that they requested, and promised access to a human 24/7 if required.

One of the humans bowed their head to lored Avex, “My lord, Admiral Vir was sorry he could not be here to witness your glorious arrival. He sends his deepest apologies and an invitation to a meal tonight as a human show of good faith. Also, due to his laxness and improper greeting he would be more than willing to act as your steed whenever you wish for his insolence and penance.

Lord Avex found this to be an agreeable apology.

Somewhere Adam Vir was quite pleased with himself for coming up with such a smooth reason to hold a Celzex, while continuing to maintain interspecies relations with one of the most powerful species on the planet.

Burg

Maverick was surprised to find people in the chapel when she walked aboard, less of people and more of an alien and a few people when she stepped in. She was even more surprised to find that this particular alien was not a Tesraki, or a Celex, but a bug-like creature with sharp mandibles, and an array of colorful wings.

“Burg!”

She said the phrase out loud, surprising herself and the burg, who nearly leaped out of it’s own carapace as it turned to look at her. Its wings were a pleasant blue color shot through with little streaks of brilliant green.

It rested a few of its front hands together and bowed to her as she pulled to a stop, “Greetings, I am Miran, religious scholar of the burg and a social envoy of the new king and queen of the burg homeworld. I am here to foster a mending of relations between our two species and contribute some of our knowledge and culture to your endeavors.”

Maverick lowered her hands.

“I see, I wasn’t aware that the Burg were part of the GA.”

The creature sat on one of the pews, “We are not, formally, but we have since updated our status as a protectorate of the GA while we attempt to mend things between ourselves. Forgive me for startling you so, but I had hoped that you might accept my help in your religious gathering room. During our time of war, the old queen tasked me with learning about your species, and in so doing I fell upon your thriving religious culture that reminded me of the stories of our own before the queen abolished much of our tradition.”

“A burg who is a religious scholar…. I would not have assumed that.”

“And what denomination do you frequent?” He wondered looking at her with expectant eyes and a surprisingly open face for a creature she had once thought to be hideous and gut churning. The butterfly wings helped she supposed, “A random flavor of Christian, though it’s not really important.” She walked over to sit next to the burg who was looking around their little chapel with great interest.

“Do you have a religion?”

The burg’s antenna twitched, and it clicked it’s mandibles, though the way it performs the action was less worrisome than the way that she had seen it in the past, “I do, I do. I follow the old religion, in a time where the burg believed in many gods. I Believe mostly in the gods of the east, the ones that frequent the tops of mountains and are connected with the ideals of honor, adventure, and scholarly pursuits.”

“Honor?” She asked in surprise

He sighed, “I understand it will take a while for your species to see us for what we really are rather than what our queen has led you to assume about us. But once upon a time we had a rich culture that was perpetuated on the ideals of honor and loyalty, though that loyalty was soon corrupted into the ability to hold grudges for a very long time and that bravery crossed a line into stupidity that nearly had our nation destroyed, but…. I had honestly hoped to talk about more enlightening subjects. Please, tell me more about your great culture and religious traditions.

Maverick smiled, “Where to begin…”

Finnari

The humans were so nice to them. At first they had assumed that the humans would be scary, and they had been right. The fins on the sides of their heads had flared in agitation as they saw the humans, and they had backed away in concern and worry as soon as someone had approached.

But as the humans stopped and bowed, they were surprised and the gentle way in which they moved, and even reached ou to touch the finnari in a kind way.

They were welcomed aboard the ship with open arms, and it was quickly accepted that here is where they would be safe.

Here they would be accepted.

The finnari are very trusting like that, and so had no problem when their quarters were proven to be situated right in the middle of the human quarters away from the other aliens at the center of everything. This had something to do with their role on the ship, working specifically with the psychological team (They were expected to be needed quickly) Two of them were healers, nurses by trade, and the other two worked with psychological issues, one of them was certified in a cuddle clinic as it was shown the Finnari ahd a similar impact on other creatures as the humans did.

They would be comfortable here, surrounded by all the humans where they would be safe. WHen you are friends with the wolves, there is nowhere safer to be than in the midst of their den.

And so they got to meet and to know their human comrades very quickly, invited to play games and to sit and chat, A few of the humans, less affable than the others might have attempted to be snappish or aggressive towards them, but they were quickly cut off by other humans who would not allow that sort of behavior.

They were going to get along very well aboard the ship.

Conn

There were more voices here than there ever had been before, and threw as a lot of work for him to get done. Conn had been pleased to learn that he was one of the reasons others were forced to sign a waver when boarding the ship. THey had to acknowledge his presence and tell the GA and the UNSC that they were not liable if Conn decided to share any of their personal secrets. They had to make sure that the UNSC or the GA could not be sued if Conn decided to do something stupid.

He was even more pleased to learn that many potential candidates had dropped out when hearing that he would be on the ship.

He was not, however, particularly pleased about their new mascot, a white Leviathan emblazoned on the side of the ship. The Admiral had argued that the thing had saved his life and Conn had argued that that thing had tried to eat his people in the past.

However when the Admiral pointed out that conn didn’t really care about them he hadn’t really been able to argue, and shut up despite his grouchiness.

Now he was fulfilling a role that the Admiral had given over to him rather silently.

The man hadn’t exactly asked him to do it, in fact he had specifically tried to avoid thinking about it when conn was around because he didn’t think the idea was particularly ethical.

Honestly, it was the whole reason why conn had decided to do it in the first place. If the Admiral didn’t want him to do it for ethical reasons, he was totally going to do it. In a way, Conn was sort of the defacto police force on the ship, monitoring thoughts and the minds of others as he went through trying to determine who was going to be a a problem and who was not though he didn’t mention these to the admiral just yet.

He sort of wanted to see what they were going to do, besides, the Admiral still needed to be punished.

He flated up the hall, reaching the familiar mind of the animal waffles, who he had come to familiarize hismelf with. She was very nervous when it came to leaving the commander now, worried that he was going to vanish for no good reason only to leave her alone like had done not so many months ago.

The Admiral did not plan on it, so he tried to sooth her animal mind just a little.

He floated onto the bridge and behind the man’s seat.

He knew when Adam sensed him.

And they both acknowledged each other

“Conn.”

“Admiral.”

‘Everything goes well?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The Admiral seemed pleased conflating the fact that Conn would do something if anything was ACTUALLY WRONG.

Conn was annoyed to realize he was right.

331 notes · View notes

lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Good Omens one-shot - “The Haunting of Warlock Dowling” (Rated M)

Summary: Warlock Dowling thinks his house is haunted. So he investigates, using a digital recorder to try and capture an EVP. He manages to record something he thinks might be one.

Nanny, however, strongly disagrees. (1454 words)

Notes: Just a random re-write for Halloween :) Warning for implied sexual content.

Read on AO3.

“Nanny! Nanny! Wake up! I have something I need to show you!” Warlock races full tilt down the hall, sliding across the polished wood floor in socked feet while imagining that he's James Bond, escaping the clutches of rogue agents by snowboarding down the Alps amid a hail of gunfire.

He throws open the door to Nanny Ashtoreth's room and flies onto her bed, climbing up her lumpy mattress to find her already awake and scrambling to put on her dark glasses.

“Warlock!” she snaps in surprise. “What have I told you about running in the house? And barging in without knocking?”

“I’m sorry, Nanny! But I had to come tell you straight away! I got one! I really got one!”

“Got one what, my little love?” Ashtoreth asks, intrigued. The last time Warlock said those words, he came bounding into the kitchen, covered in head-to-toe mud, and carrying something Nanny Ashtoreth could only describe as furry, squeaky, and highly annoyed.

Luckily, it wasn’t rabid.

Nanny wasn't too thrilled about getting her gown filthy, but the reaction of Warlock’s mother to the wretched beast made the whole encounter much more delightful.

“An EVP!” he announces proudly, holding up the digital recorder he’d gotten on his last birthday. “I was right! I told you! Our house is haunted!”

“Are you certain?” Ashtoreth asks, a concerned look on her angular face.

Warlock beams with confidence as he shakes the recorder inches from her nose. “Oh, absolutely! I listened to it five times! It’s definitely an EVP! It sounds exactly like the ones I heard on YouTube!”

“Now, Warlock - what did I say about watching videos on YouTube without my express permission?”

“Sorry, Nanny.” Warlock deflates, his excitement considerably dulled. “But I had to! I needed help gathering evidence! Everything I know about ghost hunting, I learned from the Paranormal Plumbers!”

“With a name like that, I'll bet they’re American, aren’t they?” Nanny grumbles, struggling to sit up straighter on the bed. “Why again, is it, that you believe this house is haunted? As far as I know, no one has ever died here.”

Nanny, in fact, knows that for sure. If there was a troublesome ghost lurking about, she would have dispatched it straight away. She doesn’t need anyone or anything interfering with her raising the Antichrist … the gardener, Brother Francis, notwithstanding.

Nope. This house is neutral - supernaturally speaking.

“I told you before, Nanny,” Warlock begins with a shake of his head. Why is it that adults never seem to remember the important stuff after he tells them half a dozen times? He’ll never understand. Aren’t they supposed to be smarter than him? Isn't that why they're in charge? “A few weeks ago, I heard moaning after everyone was asleep. It sounded like a soul in pain. Horrible pain! Like they were being tortured! Their eyes torn out of their skull and their intestines …”

Nanny puts up a hand to shush him. “Okay, okay. I get the gist.” Normally, she would love to sit and listen to him ramble on about the grotesque goings-on inside his tiny brain. But there are other, more pressing matters at hand. Warlock needs to be ready for school in an hour. And Nanny Ashtoreth needs to check in with the head office.

They need to move things along.

“Anything else?” she asks.

“I saw a large, shadowy figure walk past my room late at night. The floorboards creak and the lights flicker on and off when they shouldn’t …” Warlock pauses, but when Nanny doesn't invite him to continue, he sighs. As much as he's trying to get Nanny excited about his discovery, her face remains blank.

She looks uncomfortable.

He had hoped his nanny would be eager to examine his evidence. But she’s just sitting there, on her lumpy mattress, with the covers wrapped around her, looking anxious.

Like she’d rather be anywhere else.

“You don’t believe me,” he says grumpily.

“I didn’t say that,” Ashtoreth says, shifting her weight away from the lumpiest of the mattress lumps. “I’m simply trying to digest all that you’ve told me. It’s a lot to think about, my dear.”

Warlock nods glumly, his eyes dropping to his nanny’s tartan quilt. He’s never seen this quilt on her bed before. It’s lumpy, too. In that way, it matches her mattress perfectly. Warlock starts poking at one particularly squishy lump, his once shiny smile well and truly tarnished.

“Here …” She grabs the boy under his arms and lifts him onto her lap. “Why don’t we listen to your recording, and I’ll tell you what I hear?”

His grin returns times one thousand. "Okay!" he says and presses play. They both sit stone still and listen.

With any luck, he recorded himself snoring, Nanny thinks. Or talking in his sleep. Something that would be easy to explain in a way that would neither frighten nor disappoint an inquisitive eight-year-old. The last thing Nanny wants to do is discourage him.

But if Warlock did find evidence of some long-dead ghost who’s been popping by after hours, she’ll need to get herself a summoning circle.

Because someone has some explaining to do.

According to the counter on the recorder’s display, whatever Warlock heard starts at over two hours in. Warlock goes to bed at 8, so that would make this around 10 something. Nanny would have still been up, but she doesn’t recall hearing anything out of the ordinary at that hour.

The loudest noise in the room (per the recording) is the inhale-exhale of Warlock sleeping, and it makes Nanny smile. But not long after, another noise starts. It’s muffled, intermittent. To the untrained ear (and through several walls and closed doors) it does sound very ominous, like the notes of a sustained and painful cry rising up from the depths of Hell.

But to someone who knows exactly what they’re listening to, it’s clear as crystal. Nanny’s eyes grow wide behind her glasses, and she grabs the recorder out of Warlock's grasp.

“Uh ... that’s enough for now, Warlock, dear,” Ashtoreth says, turning it off.

“So what do you think, Nanny? Do you think I caught a ghost?”

“You caught something, alright,” Nanny mumbles. She stares at the recorder, unsure of what to do. "You know what, my love?” she says, helping Warlock off the bed and onto the floor. “Let me get up and get dressed. I would like to bring this to Brother Francis to have a listen.”

“You’re not going to erase it, are you?” Warlock gasps, worry scrunching his nose, creasing his brow.

“I won't,” Nanny promises. “I just want his opinion on the subject. You trust Brother Francis, don’t you?”

“I do, Nanny,” Warlock replies.

“Good. Then off you go. Get ready for school. I’ll be along in a moment.”

“Yes, Nanny.” Warlock rolls up onto his tiptoes to give Nanny a peck on the cheek, then hurries away, walking at a much safer pace back to his bedroom.

Nanny Ashtoreth waits until she hears Warlock shut his door. Then she rewinds the recording and presses play.

It’s not the moan of some faceless spectre haunting their halls.

It’s Brother Francis, moaning in the farthest thing from pain.

Ashtoreth kicks at the lump wedged between her legs beneath her blanket. “You daft angel!” The lump wails in agony, shimmying out from underneath, rubbing a sore spot on his belly. “You need to be more careful sneaking in here! And lock the bloody door next time! We're both lucky I still had my nightgown on! We'd've been sacked for sure!”

“I know, my dear. I know." Francis snaps his fingers, locking the door - too little too late seeing as they won't be going back to what they were doing moments ago. "But sometimes I forget. I just can’t help myself where you’re concerned."

"That's quite understandable," Ashtoreth says, breathing in deep, trying her hardest to quell what had almost been an earth-shattering start to her day.

"Young Master Warlock has some sharp knees," Brother Francis remarks, massaging the back of his neck as he watches Nanny Ashtoreth climb out of bed and get her uniform for the day assembled. "What are you going to do about the recording? You promised not to erase it. And you can't go back on yer promise. You'd break his heart."

"I know, I know ..." She had toyed with the idea of making the moans sound more like Mr. And Mrs. Dowling, but she can’t remember the last time those two were intimate. “I’m just going to make it sound like a genuine ghost,” she says, snapping her fingers. “It'll be easier to explain. And a lot less traumatizing.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable idiots #ineffable lovers #nanny ashtoreth x brother francis #brother francis x nanny ashtoreth #crowley #aziraphale

48 notes · View notes

fandomlurker · 3 years

Text

A Ponderous Rewatch: Battle for the Planet and Cameos

You know, I keep trying to be minimal with the amount of images I put in these posts, but I think it’s kind of a losing battle…especially when it comes to episodes animated by TMS like the second one coming later on today. I can’t help it, some of the expressions and poses are just too good to not be shared.

In any case, let’s begin with one very small cameo appearance in “Space Probed”:

Our little duo have apparently found themselves abducted by aliens, only to be kept in lab conditions much like the one on Earth at ACME Labs. This is one of those times where I wish I could know the production order of these episodes and not just the air date order… Why? Well, because this small cameo could potentially line up really well with an upcoming episode. Just keep that in mind for now.

With that out of the way, we move on to our next full skit:

And we begin with the Brain expositing to Pinky about how he came up with the plan for this episode.

“Halloween, Pinky: 1938. Mercury Radio Theatre presented an adaptation of H. G. Wells’ ‘War of the Worlds’ that was so realistic, people actually fled the cities believing that creatures from Mars were attacking the Earth. It proved that radio was a powerful tool…and now, Pinky, the advance of technology has brought us an even more powerful tool. Do you know what that is?”

Before we move on, how many of you reading this have heard about this? And how many of you know that this is actually an incident that happened in real life? Yes, people actually fled their homes after hearing this broadcast. Not a lot of people, of course. Not by a long shot. Most just made panicked phone calls to their local police station or to the radio station itself to find out what was really going on. The incident also wasn’t nationwide or anything like that, it was quite local. If anything, the radio play caused much more outrage after the fact than initial panic.

Another amusing anecdote is that Orson Welles was the man who directed, narrated, and played a main character in the broadcast. For those of you who may not be in the know, although Brain was initially based on animator and writer Tom Minton at Warner Brothers, Brain’s voice actor Maurice LaMarche based his voice on Orson Welles. Or, well, as Mr. LaMarche puts it: “The Brain is 70 percent Welles, 20 percent Vincent Price, and I don't know, there's another 10 percent of something else in there. I don't know what. Some people think it's Peter Lorre. I don't know what it is.”.

Strong references aside, I’m betting most of you can see the massive holes in the Brain’s plan already. Hoo boy…

“Umm… The rubber band?”

“The workings of your mind are a mystery to me, Pinky.”

“Ooo! I love a good mystery, Brain!”

You know, this little sequence with Brain nonchalantly stretching the rubber band while walking away from Pinky and Pinky determinedly holding on until Brain lets go off camera and sends Pinky flying is… Well, I don’t know what it is about it, but it’s kind of cute in a weird slapstick way? Like, it’s hard to tell if Brain did that on purpose to send Pinky flying for not understanding his plan…or if he actually wanted Pinky to follow him and tried to lead him to where he was walking but Pinky thought it was some kind of tug-o-war game and Brain got exasperated and let go of the rubber band.

Either way, Pinky doesn’t seem to mind.

“Television, Pinky, is our new tool!”

“We will pirate the airwaves and stage a hoax like ‘War of the Worlds’!”

Brain, you’re very good with that lasso. I’m impressed!

“Three cameras, Brain?”

“Yes… A technique pioneered by the great Desi Arnaz. And with them we will scare the people of the cities, leaving no resistance behind. We will have taken over the world!”

Well, Brain, that technique first being used by Desi Arnaz is a myth (it was more than likely actually pioneered by Jerry Fairbanks around 1947), but I’m going to give you a pass on this because you likely couldn’t fact check this very well at the time.

I do have to give Brain credit for being as dramatic as possible while announcing his plan, though. He really does know how to put on a show.

“Egad, Brain, brilliant!”

And Pinky is, as usual, full of praise and extremely excited about the plan. Look at him clapping and hopping around, aww… I’m starting to think that half the reason Brain goes through with these long, expository explanations of his plans to Pinky despite Pinky not quite following along a lot of the time is just to impress Pinky. Brain needs reassurance and Pinky always provides.

“Oh! Oh, wait, no, no…”

“Why would they be scared of us? We’re so small and we’re practically the size of mice, Brain.”

“We are mice, Pinky.”

“Oh, right! Well, there you are, then. Eh heh heh…”

…Okay, so, Pinky also tends to deflate the praise a bit when pointing out potential flaws in the plan like this, but it’s the initial thought that counts.

Yeah, I know, Brain. I know. But Pinky really is trying to be helpful.

“It’s not a question of size, Pinky. It’s a question of scale! Watch the monitor.”

“*gasp* Zounds, Brain! You’re gigantic!”

“Television, Pinky: The Great Deceptor!”

“Narf~…”

No, you aren’t seeing things. Pinky just…just stands there in front of the TV looking at live footage of a close-up of Brain and sighs in awe and affection while clasping his little hands together. I don’t even think I need to make a “Fellas, is it gay to--?” joke here. All that’s missing is little hearts appearing around his head.

We cut to a little while later, where the duo has everything set up for their broadcast. It looks like Pinky must have done the lettering for their props, since it actually looks decent and nothing like Brain’s scrawlings. Yes, I’m going to continue roasting Brain’s terrible penmanship. It amuses me.

“How is my disguise, Pinky?”

“OH! Is that you, Brain?!?”

“You flatter me, Pinky. Now, throw the switch and let us begin…the Battle for the Planet!”

Title drop! Also, aww. To be fair, Brain, I’m not sure Pinky was intending to be flattering so much as he was actually unsure if that really was you or not. But the fact that you took it as flattery is very telling, I think.

Pinky throws the switch, and the plan is officially underway!

According to the Animaniacs wiki, these people bear a striking resemblance to Elmyra’s family. If that’s what was intended, this is quite the early omen for the horrible ��Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain” spin-off that was made after the regular PatB spin-off. I don’t think I’m going to fully cover that show in the far future. It’s not the fun kind of terrible…it’s just terrible.

Oh hey, they were watching Family Matters! Too bad this is many, many years before they could bear witness to Dark Urkle Tribute.

And there’s Ralph, enjoying coffee and a doughnut.

And…some TV station broadcast folks. It kinda bothers me that these two basically have the same model except for different hair colours.

“We interrupt your regular broadcast to bring you this important news bulletin…”

“What is that?!”

“Someone’s pirated the TV lines!”

“Scientists have just reported that a large, unidentified flying object seems to be heading towards Earth. There is no cause for alarm…”

“…But there probably will be.”

Subtle, Brain.

Oh, hi, Warners! You certainly picked a good time to escape tonight.

“We take you now to our satellite view of the planet, perhaps to catch a glimpse of this fearful courier of the unknown.”

Cue Pinky making ridiculous “shoosh” and “shoom” and “weee!~” noises. Very convincing.

“I’ve just received word that the UFO is about to crash land nearby. There should be a great explosion!”

“I said, THERE SHOULD BE A GREAT EXPLOSION!”

“Hmm? Oh! OH, right, Brain! Narf!”

Nice blep, pinky.

Somehow, people watching the broadcast are still terrified. I’ve gotta admit that I didn’t expect this plan to go this well for this long.

…Okay, maybe I spoke too soon.

“Sorry, Brain…”

“…We’ll go live to the crash site momentarily.”

He says before near-instantly cutting to the “crash site”, still in the same disguise. Brain, honey, I know you’re probably trying to reduce broadcast downtime so that the audience doesn’t start to question what they’re seeing, but you do know that quick cuts like this ruin the illusion of this being a live broadcast…right?

Oh, who am I kidding? Of course he doesn’t know that. As usual, Brain has tunnel vision and expects his plans to go one certain way, and any details that don’t fit his internal narrative are discarded or not even thought about.

Just let me slide on in…

“I’m reporting to you live from the crash site and I…I’m at a loss for words. Can we get a shot of this very frightening scene?”

He’s right. That’s the most frightening…ly obvious cardboard spaceship I have ever seen.

But okay, I love these tiny prop improvisations they had to do. The bare cardboard wings taped to some kind of spray can for the body of the ship, a stray water cooler cup for the cone, test tubes for the thrusters, random little sewing pins for some kind of antenna, a dirty beige blanket to simulate soil for the crash zone… It’s so hastily cobbled together yet so goddamn cute.

Ralph still seems convinced that this is real, though that isn’t saying much.

“I am now positioned close to the…well, I can only assume that this is a vehicle from outer space, its occupants here to destroy the Earth.”

“Oooo!~ OoooOOOooo!~”

“Wait! There is a strange noise emanating from inside. Something seems to be coming out of the ship!”

They made a glove into an alien space suit with a tiny peephole to accommodate Pinky’s face and they fashioned a little belt from something for it, aaaaa! This is so adorable! Look at Pinky trying to be scary! He’s just all >:B throughout this entire scene.

BUG FOGGER

WARNING

CONTENTS UNDE

EXTREME PRESS

GAS

I’m wondering why they couldn’t label it as “bug spray”. I’ve honestly never heard of it being called “bug fogger”. Is that an American thing? (Also: Tiny sandbag wall!)

“Oh my! It’s hideous! Ladies and gentlemen, I can hardly describe this terrifying creature before me, except to say: Run for your lives! Go on! Empty the cities! Leave everything behind!”

“I…I don’t know how long I can stay on the air. I’ll try to get to our aerial view in chopper five!”

Okay, it seems even Elmyra’s family and the broadcast folks are still under the impression that this is actually happening. And Brain instantly cuts again to the aerial view. Brain, I think you’ve been watching too many movies.

“Chopper five, high above the city. The horrible creatures from Mars…invading…destroying everything in their path! Oh, the humanity!”

Since this is a still image the impact is lessened but Brain is rapidly beating his fist against his side to simulate the sound of helicopter blades and it’s actually pretty effective. Well done, lil guy, I never would’ve thought to do something like that. Your foley work is great!

The milk carton buildings still have straws in them to make chimneys! There’s little Chinese takeout boxes as buildings, too! I’m so charmed by all these quaint ways they’ve made their props.

Also, the Pinky-alien has apparently grown to kaiju size now, somehow. Brain, you’ve got to make your hoax at least a little consistent!

“This is no hoax, ladies and gentlemen. I urge you to run for your lives while you can! We’re not making this up just so we can take over the world!”

Goddamnit, Brain. You are the worst liar in the history of forever.

“Oh no! It’s heading this way! Run for your lives! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”

I just thought these cowering poses Brain did were funny and cute. He is so small and vulnerable…

So Pinky starts to menace the camera itself and—

—Oops. This isn’t going to go well.

Poor, poor Pinky.

“We did it, Pinky. Brilliant performance!”

Holy shit, sincere praise from Brain! I’m sure Pinky will treasure it.

“Undoubtedly, the population has fled in fear from their ‘terrifying enemy’, HA!”

Umm. About that, Brain…

“Let us make haste…to The White House!”

Brain, you may want to at least wait a little while so that people can actually—

Ouch.

WOW, who needs Twitter in this universe when the press is this fast?

“’Battle for the Planet is a comedy smash… World laughs together. Stay home for this one!’”

“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?”

“Well, I think so, Brain…but if we didn’t have ears, we’d look like weasels.”

“[sighs] No, Pinky… Our hoax…no one went anywhere! No one fled the cities! They found us…humorous.”

If it helps any, boys, I also found you incredibly adorable.

“Where are you going, Brain?”

“Back to our cage, Pinky. We must plan for tomorrow night.”

“Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night?”

I like how Pinky is at first concerned about Brain’s mood and then we he sees that Brain is just walking home to plan for tomorrow night he’s bouncing on his tip-toes after him.

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky: Try to take over the world!”

TO BE CONTINUED because apparently Tumblr finds this post too long otherwise,

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Battle for the Planet

12 notes · View notes

yeahhiyellow · 3 years

Text

First Lines Meme

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Thank you so much @emiliaf25 for tagging me!!! I've seen a lot of fun writing tag games going around, but I haven't been tagged in any before now. This is probably due to the fact that while I write a lot, I don't publish most of my stories so like no one knows lol. I tried to put these in chronological order from newest to oldest, but they're not perfect, as I do not keep accurate time of when I write things (and probably should). Anyway, here are mine:

1. Blasting heavy metal so I can't think

"Heavy Metal": Detroit: Become Human (This one is in the form of a poem, so that's why it's a bit weird.)

2. Markus's head popped out of the last bedroom.

"Family": Detroit: Become Human (I still have to finish this one and publish it so I can't provide a link... yet)

3. I know I'm not enough.

"Enough": Detroit: Become Human (listen this is one of the angsty ones I never published so uhhhh)

4. CHRIS: Hank! Connor! What are you two doing here?

Unnamed: Detroit: Become Human (This one is formatted as a script soooo... yeah. It's also another one I am working on and have not and probably won't publish)

5. Crowley stood by the side of the road, his arms tightly coiled around his waist.

"Alone": Good Omens (aaaaand another really angsty one I never published, I have problems)

6. "What's wrong, angel?"

"It Started in 1957": Good Omens (currently not finished and has not been worked on for over half a year... probably should get on that at some point)

7. Every dystopian novel ever has some random teenage girl save the world. Unfortunately for the world, I don't think I can do that.

This was just an original story I started back in January that I wrote like a page of and never finished because I had way too many wips. Figured I'd put it in here anyway though

8. Finally, after 17 years of work, I had made it to the most prestigious school humanity had ever created.

This is another original story, however one that I have actually worked on for more than a page lol

9. RENATA: Oh, shit. This can't be good.

Function (Free Will): original. I have been working on this story for nearly 2 years now, and I'm still nowhere even close to done. It's formatted like a script and also has the same type of rpg choice-based storytelling as Detroit: Become Human. Add to that the fact that this story is meant to critique our current political and social society, systems, and structure and touches on a variety of incredibly heavy topics, and you have the recipe for writing a story that feels like it just. Never. Ends.

10. Demons aren't supposed to feel love.

"I Love You Too": Good Omens (I wrote this one a whiiiillleeee ago, as to why it's down here on the list. I only published it a few days ago, though, a little after I first saw you tagged me in this. So thanks for finally motivating me to do it lol)

11. "You obey or he's dead."

"Exit": Detroit: Become Human

12. "Come closer. Don't be scared."

"First Kiss - The Traci's - DBH Rare Pairs Week": Detroit: Become Human

13. If I broke that shotglass, I bet it could hurt me.

"Help": Detroit: Become Human (Essentially, I published this one on Tumblr and then proceeded to take it down later the same day. It was another angsty one.)

14. "Shut up, dipshit."

"Expectations: Shut Up, Dipshit": Detroit: Become Human (This one was actually from a zine I took part in that fell apart before anything could really happen. I never finished it, so I probably won't publish it, but I guess if I finished it I could. Will that happen, however? I doubt it.)

15. "You're back."

"Hannor Week: Living Deviant Prologue Compilation": Detroit: Become Human (*sighs* Now we're getting into the old stuff. Hang on, for I have no idea what atrocities lie ahead. Or behind?)

16. System Instability. Deviancy Detected. Contact Cyberlife for a inexpensive replacement, only $2000 with your warranty!

"Living Deviant": Detroit: Become Human (I wrote this story years ago and as a result it is so cringeworthy and has so many grammar mistakes I hate to even link it so I'm not going to lol)

17. "I'm just so glad we're alive, personally."

"Who I Thought I Was": Detroit: Become Human (Surprisingly, this one isn't actually too bad. I mean, it's definitely not good, but I don't facepalm and curl up into a ball when reading it, so that has to be a good sign.)

18. I heard a gunshot from around the corner.

"Dbh Revolution Week ~ November 13 ~ Connor, Hank, and Sumo": Detroit: Become Human

19. RK900 visibly shook as he looked into the mirror.

"Scarred": Detroit: Become Human (Another one that I never published, surprise, surprise. Given how old this one is and subsequently how bad and also utterly angsty it is, I don't think I'll be publishing it unless I, like, rewrite the whole thing, so.)

20. LAUREN: 8:51, hmm? I've already been here for 11 minutes, and no one else has shown up.

"Choices": a horrible original romantic comedy I wrote as a script 5 years ago. Tbh the idea wasn't even that bad, it was the execution of it that just... really sucked. So it's a good thing we're stopping here, as if I went any farther back in my writing history, I think I might just cringe myself to death.

---

Woo, thank god we're done with that! XD In all seriousness though, this was quite a bit of fun and got me to revisit pieces I hadn't seen in years. Thank you again for the tag!!! :DDDD

Now for which one is my favorite... there are some that are definitely good, and others that are definitely bad. I like numbers 2 (cute opening line for a fluffy fic), 5 (wordplay with "coiled" and Crowley being a snake), 7 (twisting of an expected trope), 8 (brings in scifi element and introduces the character's personality while hooking the reader in), 9 (set up for the tone of the rest of the chapter and immediately introduces tension), 11 (same as previous), and 12 (also attention-grabbing), so we'll just let those make up for whatever atrocities 16 (horrible imitation of corporate writing), 20 (just plain boring), and the attempt of 18 (I had the right idea of it being a hook, the execution however was horrific) were. I start a lot of my pieces with dialogue, or at least I used to. I became aware of that within the past year and tried to work on introducing stories in other ways, which I think I've done a pretty good job on. If I had to pick a favorite, I'd probably go with 7. I just really like the subversion of expectations that you get right away from it. It announces the trope loud and clear, but plays with it instead of following it.

While I'd love to tag lots of other writers, I unfortunately don't know many at all (listen I would love to read more fics but also tiiimmmeee). I'll just tag @konami-code-ao3 for now. However, if you see this and want to hop in, feel free!

#yay it's another tag gameeeee #tag game #dbh #good omens #writing

4 notes · View notes

merryfortune · 3 years

Text

Day 27 / Rose

Clover and Violets 2021

Ship: not applicable | Mieru/Ruri

Universe: Arc V

Word Count: 1,509

Rating: T

Tags: Canon Divergent, Implied PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

One for sorrow, Mieru thought to herself, as she found one of those birds all by her lonesome.

One of those birds who had pretty eyes of sanguinated magenta and long hair of deep, amethyst purple.

Funnily enough, even when she was alone and sobbing, she was still surrounded by birds. Just pretty little brown ones. Mieru hadn’t meant to stumble upon this thing but she was a finder of all sorts of things. Including sad things.

The starlings scattered as Mieru’s shoes tapped on the ground, upbeat and happy, she had just gone to stretch her legs, she was still immature when it came to parties and she wasn’t the only one. Or, maybe, it wasn’t immaturity at all. It was the worst kind of maturity.

Ruri looked up at Mieru, through a facade of feathers as those starlings scattered and Mieru didn’t know what to say. She swallowed a hello in her throat. It didn’t seem appropriate. Ruri pawed at her face as she slowly let go of herself.

“Sorry,” she murmured, “I just needed some space. I’m not used… I’m not used to the peacetimes anymore.”

“May I sit here?” Mieru asked. She pointed at the ground beside Ruri as she clutched her crystal apple.

“Y-Yes, that’s fine…” Ruri mumbled though she didn’t understand why. She, personally, saw no appeal in spending time with a stranger who was sobbing.

Yet, Mieru dropped down beside her, dress flouncing and flapping as she sat beside Ruri, cross-legged. Yet, Mieru leaned into Ruri’s personal space, even though she stiffened. Held herself just that little bit tighter and felt awkward and assessed as Mieru looked up at her with those big, green eyes of her, all glassy and peridot-coloured and gleaming.

“You have a lot of light in you, Mieru can see it, however do you sleep at night with such brightness inside?”

Ruri squinted at Mieru, confused and confounded, tears just on the edge of her eyes but Mieru was entirely sincere in her question. Ruri giggled as she wiped away the evidence of her crying off her face.

“You are very sweet, Mieru.” Ruri told her. “Even if it’s unexpected ways.”

“Sleep well tonight and count the omens, I’m sure good things are on their way as the future comes for us all, one way or another. There’s no way to stop it but we can at least be prepared. Get a good night’s rest, a full eight hours at the very least, and don’t skip breakfast either, it’s the most important meal of the day, you know, or at least that’s what Mama says.” Mieru lectured Ruri.

Ruri giggled again and Mieru pouted. “I’m trying to help you, you know, and you spurn the Mieru? You hurt her feelings. Insolent bird. All you Bracelet Girls are the same.” Mieru huffed. She crossed her little arms.

“I’m sorry,” Ruri said, “you’re just so cute, I can’t take you seriously but thank you. I do appreciate it, truly.”

“You’re welcome, and you should note, your lucky number is two, I believe. So do things in twos, I would recommend and perhaps skip the sushi on Thursday.” Mieru continued to advise her.

“Thank you for your wisdom, little one, but how do you know these things?” Ruri asked. “How can you even begin to look into the future and not see anything but misery?”

“Mieru sees all.” Mieru murmured. Might have been a lament, it might have been a requiem. “But Mieru has eyes and Mieru cannot avoid using them. So, she sees all, whether she likes it or not. The least I can do is use this power for good, even if I do see some bad. And I see things that you cannot begin to comprehend which is saying something given you are already a peculiarity of supernatural proportions I have only begun to understand.”

Ruri hummed thoughtfully as Mieru rambled. She tucked a strand of her own hair behind her ear. Then, she did the same for Mieru and Mieru blushed.

She very much did not want Ruri knowing that whilst Mieru was a coward, she had still seen a smidgen of things that left her harrowed and when she was touched, she saw some more. She saw Heartland reflected in the shadows inside her crystal apple that only she could scry. The horrors of how it fell and the sadism of the soldiers who invaded it.

Mieru hated it very much and though Ruri’s touch was kind, playing with her gingery coloured hair, Mieru was scared of that touch. She saw more than she wanted through it and through the illusions only she could scry from her crystal apple. So, she rocketed to her feet and Ruri was only very mildly perturbed by it. She blinked.

“Mieru must be going,” Mieru announced, “see you later.”

“Thank you, Mieru,” Ruri replied, murmuring softly, “see you later.”

Mieru turned on her heel and then looked back, “And remember, two for mirth.” she said.

Ruri nodded. “Two for mirth.” she echoed back.

Mieru smiled like a cat - so different to an avian, down-to-earth girl like Ruri - and she pranced off with a skip in her step, rejoining the party on the You Show Academy roof as it was Ayu’s birthday today.

Mieru didn’t see Ruri upstairs again after that; she must have spent the rest of the afternoon and late evening downstairs, outside in the garden, recovering from her moment of fatigue. And Mieru didn’t see Ruri again until a couple days later, on Thursday, funnily enough. Mieru hadn’t been expecting to see Ruri at all but they ran into each other at one of the malls in Maiami. Such a bit city and they were still able to cross paths at random; it must have been fate, both girls thought.

Ruri was with Shun but Shun wasn’t looking all that well. He was looking a little green around the cheeks, holding his stomach and Ruri was holding him even though she had stopped to chat with Mieru.

“You were right,” Ruri very blithely informed Mieru who blinked curiously at what a way to start a conversation, “to skip the sushi.” she said. “This one did not heed your mambo-jumbo and now look at him. He’s got something of a bellyache, unlike me who had a salad from the kebab place across the food court.”

“S’not a bellyache…” Shun grumbled. “It’s food poisoning.”

“It is not.” Ruri scolded him. “You ate, like, ten plates. No one else got sick.”

Mieru laughed. She was an only child but she wondered it what it would be like to be a little sister to someone.

“Anyways, do you have any other predictions for me?” Ruri asked and her brother scolded her this time for believing such silly things.

“No, not at the moment, I - I would need my cards for that.” Mieru told her, she had only brought her fortune-telling pencil to help her navigate the mall; she had come to buy school supplies for the upcoming semester.

“Oh, fair enough,” Ruri replied, “but we’ll have to catch up sometime and oh! I almost forgot!”

Mieru blinked again as Ruri let go of Shun. He looked fit to faint but he did his best to stand up on his own, as slouched as that was. Ruri dug through one of the cardboardy shopping backs she was bedecked with on either of her arms.

“I saw this and it reminded me of you so I thought I would buy it, just in case I saw you and now look. We did. Maybe I’m a little bit psychic.” Ruri laughed as she gave Mieru her gift and now she was perfectly like a lyrebird, Mieru thought, if she had an aptitude for small, shiny sparkly things like this. “It’s a purple rose, you can wear it as a brooch, if you like, I thought it would look good on you, please, take it.”

“Thank you…” Mieru replied softly.

Her fingers were soft against Ruri’s palm as she accepted the gift. She was a little bit mystified. She had received gifts before as thanks for her powers and using them but this felt a little different. She couldn’t quite put it into words but it was somehow more special coming from Ruri. Her heart fluttered.

“Anyways, I best be off.” Ruri said and she linked her arms with Shun’s again since he was like jelly. “But it would be nice to hang out again, just the two of us, yes?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful.” Mieru replied.

Ruri beamed. “After all, two for mirth, yes?”

“Yes, two for mirth.” Mieru affirmed and Ruri was satisfied with that.

She hurried off and Mieru just watched with those huge eyes of hers. Green and awed. She smiled though, truly happy to see Ruri in a better mood compared to when they had encountered each other at You Show earlier.

Two for mirth indeed, Mieru found herself thinking very fondly with a scant of pink in her cheeks.

#femslash february #femslash #mieru x ruri #ruri x mieru #yugioh arc v #arc v #yugioh #mieru houchun #kurosaki ruri #lulu obsidian #aura sentia #writing tag #clover and violets #clover and violets 2021 #happy belated birthday to me

3 notes · View notes