#what sorta omen is this

[cultofthepigeon]

why this jumping spider just jump onto my glasses while i was reading?????

[cruelestpigeon]

ship where artists hate them because they both have impossible hair to draw >>>>>>

[mackthecheesy]

day 17 of cringetober is f2u base so this is from here! i've never read warrior cats i was a guardians of ga'hoole kid but my brother read it and i remember having a conversation w/ him once and learning that "saltlick" would be a valid warrior cats name and ive been obsessed w/that idea since

[dreichrainbow]

My best friend finally watched GO2 and she did not disappoint.

[cienie-isengardu]

Anakin dreaded sleep.

It seemed, in his dreams, that something inside was testing him, something very strong, and it did not care whether it was loved or feared.

[Rogue Planet by Greg Bear]

[syndromestatic]

grahhh. Good omens painting!

[skullfragments]

as i’m sitting here past midnight working on good omens fanart, laughing to myself as i ponder the possibilities of expanding the ridiculous good omens x high school musical crossover i threw out there, i realize that perhaps my friends have, in fact, chosen not to watch good omens (despite my insistence on its quality) simply because they do not want to be subjected to this new flavor of brain worms from yours truly

[frecklesandpoverty]

ok Good Omens, am I about to start shipping Gabriel and Beelzebub cause this is cute as hell they keep meeting up THEY HAVE A SONG ahhhhhhhh

[modpoppy]

that being said. i dont think vbros interest is gonna stick at all but they removed mtl from max so i cant rewatch like i planned unless i get the disc set which. lord. i AM basically done with school and finally bought omori tho (but idk if omori or disco elysium would be better to do first)

[timetakillgod]

I do a lot of doodles and actual, poster worthy pieces for my ocs but I can't seem to come up with a fitting piece for Omen. I want to make something memorable but he's very a much a doodle character ngl. Maybe one day something will stick out properly but for now just daydreaming up potential concepts.

[fluffle-writes]

Wanna make something heavily inspired by the story and gameplay style of Return of the Obra Dinn but I can't make games so at the moment I'm just blocking out ideas and shit to see if my thoughts could actually make a viable story

[saturnmosaic]

succulent berries nestled in the yard.

pairing : ellie williams x female reader

synopsis : ellie, your wife, gives your cat away, out of envy or circumstance, you can't tell. leaving behind the past, you and your wife move into a new home. but with a relationship on the brink of ravage, the house seems to harbor sinister forces. and with the insatiable hunger for berries you discovered in the yard, things crumble rather fast.

warnings : pussy eating, mentions of miscarriage, animal deaths, blood, cannibalistic yearning, figures/ creatures sorta?? haunted house.

wc : 1.8k

a/n : um yeah...it's kinda bad and not executed well but i wrote this during the week of my exams, can you blame me? also i got kinda lazy during sum bits sooo

betrayal lingers in the car, stirring amidst the crisp air of the AC. the tapping of the rain against the mist covered windows, like the rhythmic pumping of your ruptured heart, does no good to the gnawing feeling inside you. how could she have given away your blythe. the tiny creature always so nimble on her feet at the call of her name, so fond of seeking slumber on your lap.

you’d found her on a similar day like this— grey hues enveloping the sky, water droplets crashing the tender and moist earth with all their might, and the rumbling of thunder in the distance. amidst all that chaos, her meek meow had stood out. her black fur was sleek with the heavy rain, and her belly was smeared plum dark.

you’d taken her home on an impulse. time and medical care healed her. and she had healed you. a lovely year spent with her, reminiscent of a lilac bloom in the summer. but now she was gone, taken away from you by your own wife. your own wife! a blasphemy.

"are you still mad at me? we had no other choice." aventurine eyes dart away from the distorted road to get a glimpse of you. your eyes still bleary and bloodshot, hair ever so tousled, and the silk of your dress embracing your petal-like skin. a bittersweet sight.

"don't say we." not even a glance spared her way, the face you’d seek for in every room you entered, now a face foreign and surreal.

"oh come on, she was sick anyway. it was only a matter of days before she died!" her temper, planted in her like a tempting hydrangea, speaks before her rationale can articulate words, knuckles gripping the charcoal leather of the driving wheel.

"she was not sick."

she sighs, the guilt of her deed looming over her like a sickly, withered willow. “baby, we both know she was and i’m really sorry but we can’t do anything about it. we’re moving to a new town, a new house. bringing her with us would be..a burden. besides i’d rather you not witness her death, i don’t wanna see you suffer like that.”

“i’m already suffering, aren’t i?”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do, huh? i’m just trying to do what’s right. a-and it’s like i’m always second to that cat!”

the confession, lays bare like an ornate scroll, and makes you ponder if envy was the cause of it. but was what she said entirely fallacious? maybe you had been giving blythe more attention that she’d felt frivolous in your eyes.

“just- i’m sorry, okay? but i promise jesse will take good care of her.”

silence ensues, and soon the quaint house surfaces into your eyesight. the rain and dusk obscured it's intricacy but from what you could make out, it was painted in warm whites and browns, with ivy weaving up the sides and windows curtained in white lace.

…

a house is a body, your mom used to tell you. a haven meant to be worshipped in return for solace and warmth. this house became your body. its walls were alive in the daylight, screeching and beckoning for something while ellie was at work. it fed on your sorrow and resentment like a famished beast, stripping them away to procure life. your heart was indented in these walls.

the house would foist bad omens on whoever visited. aunt daphne had a miscarriage, the frail thing of a baby was bled out on the black and white tiles of your bathroom. it stirred memories of your own miscarriage, and ellie thought that was the reason you leaned so heavily on blythe, loving her as though she were your own child. when uncle luke visited, his golden retriever was found dead in the yard, leaves sitting idly on its fur like an atonement.

ellie wasn't one to believe in curses or anything remotely superficial, but she'd felt something innately sinister residing in the hollow of the house. she wanted to move, but moving away meant leaving behind your body, so you stayed, which compelled her to stay rooted to the house too.

…

on a sunny morning, beads of sweat kissing your skin, damp hair heavy under the sun’s gaze, you’d been lead to the brambles in the yard by the house itself. the raspberries were glistening and plump with saccharine juice.

they might’ve been tainted with fox piss, so you gather them in a dainty basket and slip back into the confines of your home to wash them. the water from the tap cascades down onto the fruits in your hand, ridding them of the insect debris and other dirt.

a tatted arm snakes its way around your waist and a head heavy with sleep rests on your shoulder. it had almost slipped out of your mind that it was a weekend.

ellie's other arm reaches out to turn the tap off and put the dampened raspberries away from your hand. without warning, pearly whites bite down on your neck and her tongue flicks out to languidly soothe the bruised splotch.

a carnal desire courses through your veins. ever since you moved here, and ever since blythe was no longer in your gentle arms, words barely existed anymore. and sometimes silence felt like a human presence, mocking the insubstantial souls around it. without words, sex was your salvation.

she turns you around to hoist you up on the counter, shadows smudged under her eyes. she'd come back from work late last night, you figure.

her calloused hands are on your thighs, pushing them apart with a fervor. a similar fervor that'd paint itself on her whenever you showed her a hint of normalcy. your hands still in her tousled hair, as the velvety pads of her fingertips tug your underwear off.

her knees hit the marble tiles, warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen windows, as she lifts the fabric of your dress up, a gentle rustle against the morning ambience, revealing your slick folds.

her tongue teases your weeping cunt, one hand clutching the dress up and the other resting on your thigh. you whimper in desperation, pushing her head further.

“ellie..”

she pats your thigh in response, fucking you with her warm muscle, feeling your insides devour it with a hanker. noises flow out of your mouth as smoothly as the tranquil descent of a waterfall, as your fingers dig into her scalp.

a sultry moan muffles into your hole, and she pulls back, the taste of you lingering on her tongue.

“what the fuck? why’d you-” your whine is silenced by the solace of her lips. her tongue slides into your mouth and presses against your own, slick and insistent. your own taste dissolves into your mouth, mending with your saliva.

you bite the soft pillow of her lower lip, drawing crimson liquid and earning a throaty noise from her. somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

“babe..” she lowers her gaze in an attempt to catch sight of the fresh blood. before she can wipe it away with the pad of her thumb, you lick the red off her pillowy cushion of flesh.

the taste is seraphic as it sits on your taste buds, a pure bliss, like thyme on a wound. the sensation of her tongue back inside your clenching walls heightened this feeling, if not subdued it wholly. but the taste still lingered.

her fingers soothe your swollen clit, circling around it as if afraid it’ll be seized from her grasp someday.

she laps at every drop of juice that manifests, like she’d done to your tears, as a fatuous inside joke, a long while ago. so long, she can’t remember if it was a hazy dream.

“fuck. i’m so close.”

her mouth pulls away when you reach your pleasant climax, her fingers still on your clit, helping you through your high. your hands go limp in her hair, and she languidly wipes the glistening slick from her mouth and chin with the back of the hand that releases your bunched dress.

...

the berries stay forgotten until the next morning, when it’s delicacy is withered and rotten away under the exposure to air and temperature. you throw the shrivelled fruits away and pick several more.

the new ripe ones sit snug in a ceramic bowl, alluring and tender. you feast on ten, eleven, twelve, and then the count numbs in your brain. the fluid so grossly alike to ellie’s blood, makes you delirious. it’s utterly enthralling, the juice dripping down your chin, its sticky residue settling on your skin. your teeth and lips and hands stained in a crimson hue, a crimson hue reminiscent of ellie’s blood. ellie’s blood. they chant themselves on the tip of your tongue.

spindled figures, engraved on the floors, long limbs and pulsing eyes, they seem to close in on you. the bowl is emptied, raspberries already in the pit of your stomach. the yearning grows in agony, an animalistic desire surging through the ivory of your bones.

you feel light like you’re meandering through the air, though you can feel the faces of the figures underneath your feet, something metallic making its home in your hand.

you blink and you're standing in your bedroom, ellie coddling her apatosaurus plushie, as her eyes stay fluttered. a vulnerability so immensely coating the room. the knife glides down her supple skin, the smell of meat stirring your senses. was her heart the sweetest part of her body?

"what the fuck are you doing?" her raspy voice cuts through your trance and suddenly the object in your hand feels foreign. with a sharp yank to your arm, the metal clanks on the marble floor.

"what is wrong with you?" ellie's gripping your arms, her face contorted with disbelief, shock and wrath.

"n-nothing." but something is. you both know. tears gush through your eyes, the salty pearls melding with the sweet smear of berries on your skin.

"god, it's this fucking house! we should've moved. fuck!" her grasp on your arms are gone, her hands fumbling for her phone. frustration envelopes her like a smothering blanket as she talks to demolition contractors.

your pleas fall on deaf ear, your mere presence as measly as a lamb. you let yourself be escorted out of the house, eyes sodden, red flickering in them, as you watch- watch the house your body collapse to the ground.

the berries come retching out of your mouth, along with a hideous flow of blood. the walls crumble and the world around you dances like an uncanny painting. sirens wail in the distance and layers of black pierce through your eyes, shutting them for slumber.

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem Undertale Fic Idea with OP Mage Reader

So i was sorta just going down a rabbit hole of anti harem fics and one thing came to another and i just started rambling in docs. This is a random revival post but i just had to put the idea out there 😭 I might do a part 2 if it tickles enough people lol

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You were a mage, scratch that, you were THE mage. A blood bred and soul bound mage at the pinnacle of power. You were a starved and power hungry creature that had done anything and everything in your study of magic. It had gotten you far, much farther than anyone dared admit, and it wasn't an overestimation to say that you had climbed the highest in pursuit of your ever indulgent search.

Your reputation was dirty however, many knew you for the horrors you had summoned, for the debts you had incurred from primordial things deep in the shadows, hushed whispers followed wherever you went and you knew that whilst most were things born from fear induced imaginations of fanatics and cultists, the rumors were stemmed from half truths. Your involvement in anything was a grim omen, your standing in the mage circle was unquestioned, and you were far too intelligent to let scheming old men become your downfall. 

But at the same time, you didn't care all that much about any of it, you held no real affection for other mages, they were dull and far too concerned with bloodlines and traditions to rise to any heights, their arrogance annoyed you and so you reduced your expectations accordingly. However it seems the institution that was responsible for you had other plans.

When monsters appeared you were curious, removed from the world for centuries they were bound to hold new secrets, new curious things to explore. But what you didn't expect was being forced to babysit a gaggle of skeletons who seemed to hate your guts.

You couldn't fathom why it had to be you, you were THE top ranking mage, there was no question, so why were you placed on house arrest and doomed to listen to abuse from the undead band of miscreants you couldnt understand, it baffled you.

Sans was untrusting from the moment he put his eyes on you, his face scrunched in a grim line, he didn't like you, he didn't trust you, you suspect because you were a mage. He often tried to peek into your soul, but you hid it well, a practice you learned with your dealings with infernal devils from down under. That fact put him on edge, you could tell. His conversations with you were curt and short, and he did his best to keep you removed from his mock family and especially his brother. Several times he had threatened you with a bad time in the darker corners of the house, his threats seemed genuine.

Papyrus was an anxious mess, his hands always twisted around one another in your presence, he put on a placating expression whenever you had business with him, but you could tell he was unnerved by you. It didn't surprise you considering he was associated with the embassy, the officials there often warned him of the grim omen, the horrors of maddened mages. His anxiety made you huff more than once, and his respondent flinch was a disturbing reality check every time.

Red was a defensive and rabid dog as far as you could tell. He didn't cut back on his insults towards you, and his disdain for you begged no question. He would throw you disgusted glares whenever he was sober enough to keep his mouth shut and when the bottle found him it was nothing but slurs and mockery, he would often pick a fight with you knowing full well you could not lay a hand on him considering your assignment. 

His brother was worse, a calculated cruelness to his every word. He was smart in his insults, cold and scalding at the same time. He spat his insults with an undisguised venom and often he blamed you for every little thing that was wrong with the world. You were the devil itself, he was convinced of it. Whenever anything went wrong he blamed you, every word you said he took out of context, every insecurity you may have still held onto was exploited and made a mockery of. There were times when you felt yourself almost break your oaths and promises to guard them with your life, Edge held that much power over your breaking anger. He was good at hating, great at his unquestioned disdain for you.

Blue was a silent threat if you've ever seen one, a masked harpy. He wore innocence like a well placed mold. He was one of the only ones that would talk to you purely with the intention of finding what makes you tick. He was smart, you could tell, so he never really picked a fight, but he often insinuated things, twisted your words in the worst of ways. Your deeds and words became misconstrued and dissected as he mocked you with a toxic sweetness all with a question on those faux innocent eyes. 

Stretch was harder to decipher. He was similar to Blue in the way he hid his dislike of you, but instead of innocence he wore an air of laid back coldness. He had almost even fooled you with it, but the way his eyes never left you betrayed him. It took you a while to tell the skeleton expressions apart but once you did, it took no time at all to realize he was dissecting your every move, your every gesture and word was put under a weighted scrutiny. He judged you often and readily and you could often feel his gaze on you even while you left the skeletons well alone. He watched your every move, and you never saw Blue alone, Stretch always seemed to back his brother up in his interrogations of you, and not once did he defend you in your arguments with Edge, knowing full well that whatever Edge was accusing you of was a lie.

It was all a bother, a pain in the ass that made you groan and growl at gods that put you under such annoying tasks. Every night you would patrol the entirety of the property, defending it from silent threats in the dead of night, seen by no-one, heard by nothing. You would dissolve human supremacist groups that threatened the brothers with not a word of thanks, you didn't even mention them, their gratitude would mean nothing to you. You spent cold mornings sewing up wounds and washing away bloodstains whilst  the skeletons berated you about killing some innocent litter of pups for pure sick pleasure all the while you thought of ways to silently dispose of the grotesque eldritch beast you sunk in the swamp out of sight of the brothers blinded eyes. You were good at it, removing anything dangerous from the civilians eyes to protect their peace was the core skill of mages. Every day you would be verbally abused, belittled and insulted and all the while you carried on. 

Then one day another mage made contact with the brothers, well, a mage was perhaps not the right word. a recruit? A potential mage early in the making, a cute little thing with a voice drenched in sugar and eyes made of glass. Some new program to introduce recruits to working with monsters. Another responsibility pushed onto you. But of course you could handle it, you were the strongest scariest mage around weren't you? It made you grit your teeth. The brothers didn't seem to realize they were a mage at all, the newbie had stumbled into one of the brothers traps around the property and gotten bloodied in the process, a fact you were somehow blamed for once again. The brothers patched them up, it gave you whiplash, the attitude change was almost enough to make you sick. 

It took no time at all for all of them to warm up to each other, all the while you were stuck slaving away battered and bruised. The newbie was weak and useless in matters anything magic related. They followed you one night out on patrol, it took them 3 minutes to lose you in the fog and slowly but surely you noticed a growing disdain in the recruit as well, a snakelike jealousy even. It was easy even for them to turn the brothers even more against you, all the while getting closer to them. Something to bond over you supposed. It didn't matter, you were tired, far too tired to care anymore. But perhaps this was for the best. The brothers could be assigned a new mage once the recruit program was done, as useless as they were you were more than happy to give up your spot to them just to be done with all of this. It would all be solved once it was done, what could go wrong. It wasn't your problem, not anymore.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Kyle is absolutely over Captain and his Missus. He really thought things would calm down after the spades and 'Why did I get married?' Night...but nothing could ever prepare him for the beast that was Simon's Cherry-coke crash out.

It started with the red laces on the black forces and that damn Nike tech trench. That he could handle, he had time to digest the slow little changes. He was even okay with Cherry-coke sending enough food and snacks to the whole team. It sorta turned into a thing with Missus and Cherry-coke taking turns sending their respective boyfriends to base with homemade meals for all of 141 to share.

But what he couldn't handle was the fact that Simon acted like a love sick puppy whenever his girlfriend was brought up. He constantly stated, "My Lady doesn't like when I get hurt." Or "My Lady said not to eat anything with red sauce from Charlotte in the med bay...not sure why, but she then said don't eat anything she ever offers."

And he brought her up often, and it was with phrases that had Kyle often going, "Now Ghost, why would you say that?"

This particular 'what the fuck?' moment had happened at the pub one night.

The whole conversation started just decently enough when the four of them were at their regular pub decompressing. Johnny was bemoaning his unlucky dating streak and insisting that John's Missus set him up, too. (John only rolled his eyes, saying his girl wasn't a matchmaker...besides Johnny, you play too rough.)

Simon had been engrossed in his phone, which was odd because he never really did that, but now he had a girl back home who wanted his attention, so maybe he did now. Something must have caught him off guard because one moment he was sipping his beer, the next he was coughing and sputtering.

"Ye okay LT?" Johnny asked, patting him on the back.

"Yeah." He grunted, he tossed a few bills on the table and went to stand. "Head'n home."

"Aw wot!" Johnny complained, "it 'asn't been an hour yet!" He went to pull Simon back to the booth.

Simon, not one to be deterred or embarrassed, was readjusting his mask. The look he gave Johnny was blank. "My Lady as she puts it...drank half a bottle of alizé and wants to turn me into a Capri Sun. Let go Johnny."

Whole time, Kyle is in distress as he watches him leave the bar. Really Captain’s and Simon's lexicon was getting out of hand.

"I'm so tired." Kyle groaned, choosing to ignore their Captain's laughter.

"That's it!" Johnny shouted, slamming his hand onto the table, "if Missus Price won't set me up! I'll find a bonnie girl on my own!"

Kyle, for some reason, felt like this was a bad omen.

Johnny is getting his girl next 👀

Black Wife Effect Master list

[kingofthe-egirls]

how about an God au with gear 5 luffy?

He's the sun god bored out of his mind until a new girl, Y/N arrives in town. Y/N is a new temple maiden by the way.

He's quickly enamored with her as she is sweet and kind to everyone, but he doesn't like that she has sutiors. She turned them all down though.

One gets handsy to her discomfort but Luffy intervenes with a lightning strike and people see it as an omen and Y/N becomes off limits!

One day to his luck, Y/N arrives to his temple to do cleaning at night, he appears to meet her. Saying he has been watching her since she arrived.

And with some soft coaxing, Luffy starts to spend a real steamy time with her. There won't be a part of her he won't touch! Or taste!

And through that time he makes Y/N his goddess! Which kind of Goddess is up to you!

i have done my best

SUN GOD AU: LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: sun god!au, sorta spoilers, sfw, cheek kiss, reader can't see luffy, food mention)

(a/n: okay so sorry this took so long, this is sorta what i have so far, i just haven't written the smut yet. it's sorta plot heavy, so i hope you still enjoy this!)

words: 1.1k

****

Sun God Nika is bored. 

She's dusting the altar again, singing to herself. He peers down from the marble pillars, legs wrapped around the column as he stares at her working. She's wearing a soft chiton, pastel pink like the rose petals she sprinkles on the golden offering dish. Luffy'd much prefer meat.

"Hmm," he stares down at her, swinging upside down from the pillar. She doesn't see him yet. He wonders if he should say something, maybe get her attention. Most priestesses can see him, if he speaks up. She's singing now, murmuring little lullabies with a songbird's voice. 

Luffy smiles.

She's pretty.

So he spirals down the marble pillar, letting his limbs snap back to his torso with a whack as he lands. He stands, grinning, his fists on his hips. He's shirtless, wearing nothing but his clouds and snow-white shorts. His sash swishes violet around his waist, as he steps up behind her with a shit-eating grin on his face. He's sending out rays of sunlight, he can tell, since she's all lit up sparkly and gold as he approaches her. 

She's sweeping as she hums, brushing away the dried rosebuds and sunflower seed shells from this week's previous offerings. He likes the seeds, but since he can't eat roses he wishes she'd leave the petals out of it. She stops, suddenly. She shifts, as she starts to sense his presence.

She turns, and Luffy stands with his biggest grin to greet his newest friend.

She's staring right at him, but her eyebrows are furrowed as she scans the room. He waves. 

"Hi!"

She screams.

"Ah!" She yelps, jumping in place as she drops the broom. It clatters to the floor, scattering shells and petals everywhere. She swirls around, shaking visibly in surprise. "Wh-what the fuck?! Is there someone here?" She's breathing heavily, nostrils flaring as she tries to keep her cool. Her soft dress sways around the scattered rosebuds. Luffy's confused.

"Hello?" He says again, head tilted. She stares at the space he's occupying, but sort of past it. Luffy waves again, but she doesn't respond. Oh. She can't see him.

That's a first.

"Huh!" He says, stumped. But then he gets an idea, and he's smiling again as he saunters up to her. "It's me!" He smacks a kiss on her cheek, expecting the swoon he usually gets, but she screams and slaps him in the face. She scrambles backward, swiping up her broom to wield in front of herself like a bo staff. She's flushed, chest heaving in fear. 

Oh.

Luffy scrunches his lips to the side: he's somehow made a mistake. 

Nami, his sister-goddess (she governs stars, currency, and navigation), would smack him upside the head for something like this. He frowns, sitting cross-legged in midair as he stares at the frightened human. She swallows heavily, starting to shuffle around to behind the altar. She looks like she's going to bolt at any second.

"Okay, okay, sorry!" He waves his hands in surrender, but then drops them as he realizes she can't see his gestures. He casts about him, searching for a way to calm her down. "Ah…uhh," he swirls around to the other side of the altar with her, sending as much radiance and light as he could. "See that? See the sunlight?" He asks hopefully, seeing the gold reflections in her eyes.

She stares.

"S-sorta…," she allows, still brandishing her bo-staff-broom. 

Luffy snickers, setting his feet down on the marble floor. His sandals crunch over the scattered shells. "It's me! Sorry ya can't see me, I dunno what that's about…" He frowns, scanning over her face. She seems like she can see other stuff, like how she stares at the rose petals and the flickering candle lights. Or her own fists wrapped tight around the handle of her broom.

"Here," he says softly, alighting his fingertips onto the tip of the handle. He pushes it down, just so she can feel his weight manipulating objects in the mortal world. She gasps, but doesn't drop the broom. He slowly slides his hand down the handle, until his fingertips are almost touching hers. He doesn't want to scare her again, so this time he asks. 

"S'okay if I touch ya?"

She hesitates, but nods.

So he softly traces the backs of her knuckles, before wrapping his hand around her fist. She's smaller than him. She seems to glow a little bit, being touched by a god. She breathes in a sigh of relief, shoulders visibly relaxing. She lets go of the broom with one hand, letting her fingers tangle with his invisible ones. She's soft as feathers.

"Doesn't hurt, does it?" He asks cheekily, and she smiles as she shakes her head.

"S'warm," she confesses, letting his fingers trail up her inner forearm to dance at the crease of her elbow. She scrunches her nose, "Tickles."

"Shishishi," Luffy snickers and pulls away. He sits back up in midair, legs crisscrossed under him. "So, what's it like serving me? S'fun so far?" He tilts his head, floating along behind her as she sets the broom to the side. She seems much more comfortable now, since she knows he's real. She's all melty and relaxed, like she's been sunbathing for a while.

She smiles dreamily, fingers playing in her hair. It's decorated with gold jewelry, with a sparkling jewel at the center of her forehead. Third eye, Nico Robin would call it. She's much better at this spiritual stuff than Luffy is, truthfully. But his temple priestess is suddenly flustered again, except this time she's blushing instead of breathing heavily. 

"Oh, um! I should have offered you sunflowers, or something–"

"You're good!" He's sick of flowers, "Is there any meat instead?"

"Meat?"

Luffy flicks a sunflower seed off the gold offering dish. He sits on the marble slab, relaxing amid the candles with his head propped up on his hand. "S'my favorite! Any kind of meat will do," he watches her cast about breathlessly, a soft blush decorating her cheeks.

She's cute.

Luffy likes her, he decides, although he'd already liked her singing. 

She shakes her head, comma of displeasure forming between her eyebrows. "I-I don't think so… I'd have to go to the market," she twists her fingers in front of her, tangling them in the soft pink fabric of her dress. She stares to the left of where Luffy stands. "Is…that okay?"

"Sure!" Luffy chirps, sliding his warm hand into hers. She blushes ferociously, but she squeezes his hand in comfort, anyway. He swings their arms between them as he starts leading her toward the front door. "Let's go!"

She stops, stricken. "Wh-what?"

Luffy snickers, "Let's go together! Cmon, it'll be an adventure!"

She swallows, letting him start dragging her back towards the door. She scuffs her sandals along the sandstone floor, but she doesn't refuse. "Okay," she says quietly, "I think I'd like an adventure," she smiles at him, sorta to the side, and Luffy beams back. He squeezes her hand.

"Let's have an adventure, then!"

She smiles, and lets Luffy drag her all the way to the town square.

[vidavalor]

I think you're the fifth blogger I've seen mention Shax's thing for Crowley... I still can't see it even though I really want to 'cause I think it's hilarious... send help... 🤣🥲😔

I can try lol. Chocolate cake? *slices*

More fun with Shax and Crowley under the cut. We're also going to look at part of Gabriel & Sandalphon's visit to the bookshop in S1 for some bonus fun since it fit in here as it's a parallel scene.

TW: Brief mention of Sandalphon and his homophobia.

For the most part, Shax isn't really in love with Crowley... she's just got a Mr. Brown-level pash on the Crowley that Crowley projects. While Aziraphale hides that he's an angel from the human world so Mr. Brown only believes him to be human, Crowley hides the extent to which he's human and living like one from the demons in Hell. As a result, the demon pursuing him has got exactly one thing correct about Crowley-- that he's hot lol-- but Shax's opinions as to why only partially overlap with ours and Aziraphale's because Shax believes Crowley's big reputation. She doesn't know what we know about him or see him the way we do. Like Mr. Brown with Aziraphale, she exists in part to highlight how insular Crowley & Aziraphale's world of their life together is and how much they have to playact in their respective worlds to keep that secret life they have with one another private and intact.

Shax is a demon who loves being a demon. That's what makes her crazy to us. Most of the other demons we've met are just miserable, even if they're playing along, but Shax is a real go-getter. She's ambitious and she lives to serve their master Satan. She wants to be good at being a demon and she's in love with *Crowley* lol. To us, this seems bananas because ain't no demon ever hated being a demon more than Anthony Jemimah Crowley... but it's proof positive of how decent a job Crowley has been doing at projecting an air of general demonicness for the last six thousand years.

Crowley has been a prince of Hell forever. He's gotten the top jobs-- the stuff of Shax's dreams, really-- and was a particular favorite of Satan, whom Shax worships. He was basically Hell's resident rock star, breezing in every few months to give a demonic presentation and shoot the shit in Lord Beezlebub's office for a half-hour before taking off for Earth again. If you were Shax, spending literally *thousands of years* in that overstuffed, dark, actual hell hole, Crowley showing up must have been like a visit from sexy Santa Claus. Shax is one of those Effort-making demons and most of the demons in Hell are more terrifying than attractive, ok?... even if you find terrifying attractive, like Shax sorta does or at least thinks she ought to.

Who's going to light your fire down there? Hastur? He'd *literally* light you on fire....

We've seen Shax have to deal with misogyny in the workplace (ugh Demon Josh) and you know she never got any of that shit from Crowley. She probably mostly got a "Shaaaaax! How's it hangin'?" from Disco Tony, who was thrilled to have remembered her name this time. Shax was playing it evil demon lady cool on the surface but girl just wants to be first string for the finest demon in Hell and she was swooning internally every time Crowley swooped in to grace Hell with his presence for a hot minute.

There has been suggestion in the series that several demons that we know of from Bible lore are, in Good Omens, all actually Crowley, which furthers this idea of Crowley and his big reputation a bit. The show has actually already done this with a Biblical figure, in that Bildad the Shuite is an actual Biblical character that the show just made be actually the demon Crowley under a different name, so it would make sense that the reason why we haven't seen other famous demons from The Bible in the series are because they're actually Crowley.

One is canon, basically, which is Astaroth/Astoreth, since Crowley was Nanny Astoreth in S1 and I doubt he stole the name from another demon who exists in the GO universe. When Crowley tells Aziraphale he changed his name when they are watching Jesus' crucifixion, Aziraphale first posits two other demons' names and neither of them exist in GO universe to date but both are, lore-wise, powerful: Mephistopheles and Asmodeus. A lot of other great meta has been written about these choices-- in particular, how well Mephistopheles fits Crowley to a tee, which I really, really agree with. You could assume then that the reasons why more audience-known demons like Astoreth and Asmodeus have never shown up in GO-- and we've met the highest-ranking demons already-- is because they actually *have* and they're all just really Crowley.

In demon lore, Astaroth is part of the "evil trinity" with Beezlebub and Lucifer and is a high-ranking demon in Hell... as well as is basically a genderbent serpent goddess with Crowley traits... so safe to say that's one of Crowley's aliases. Crowley has also had his name of "Crowley" for thousands of years by S1 but when he's rolling up in The Bentley in 1.01, Ligur and Hastur clarify what Crowley's "calling himself up here these days", indicating that he might have gone by more names than we might have realized.

Asmodeus, as we all probably know by now, is the demon of lust. A French novel from the 18th century also popularized the idea of Asmodeus as a sort of Cupid, which also goes along with Crowley, who loves love and got genuine joy out of trying to set up Maggie and Nina. So... from Shax's perspective, why *wouldn't* you want Crowley? He's the fine as fuck, Serpent of Eden, legendary prince of fucking lust here lol.

Shax showed up to reclaim his apartment for Hell and you know she expected a scene the likes of which have not been seen on Earth since a post-concert hotel suite occupied by Led Zeppelin lol. She was expecting (fantasizing lol) about having to wade through a rock music blasting, orgiastic drug den to find Asmodeus in his sex dungeon of a bedroom, somewhere in the black silk sheets beneath three playthings.

You know she actually found Crowley, alone, having just finished vacuuming the most fastidiously clean flat this side of Heaven, fully dressed and watching Barefoot Contessa on his massive plasma screen while the only drugs being mixed were special-blend fertilizer for his houseplants. Ina was making Jeffrey red-wine braised short ribs and Crowley didn't say so to Shax, of course, but he's always on the lookout for something his angel might like for dinner. Hang on a second, Shax, gotta save this recipe to my favorites...

At least the black silk sheets were accurate? lol

What probably confuses Shax a little is that she's been meeting up with Crowley and she still wants him and badly, even as it's becoming increasingly clear that he's a bit more complicated than she thought he was. Technically, she should consider him a traitor because of how he betrayed their Master but he's hot, ok, and maybe it's a little sexy to be so bad that you'd defy Satan? (Aziraphale agrees lol.)

Shax has Mr. Brown-level fantasies about where this could go. Crowley was a favorite of Satan's and she can bring him back into the fold. She can heal him. Yeah, this lady demon has gone and got herself one of those 'I can fix him' disaster scenarios. She hates this for her too but she can't help it. He's so sexy. She's been in Hell for a long time. She's sleeping in the bed and showering in the tropical rainforest paradise dream shower of Asmodeus himself, ok?

She's undoubtedly tried to get him to stay. She's so offered for him to live with her in secret and Crowley nearly choked on the air he doesn't need to breathe trying not to laugh at the irony of that one. It's not Shax's fault that he's just not that into her. She's a bad bitch and everything. That's just not his thing. He's just the lonely GI who basically fell asleep during a performance of The Ladies of Camelot. He has always given off the impression that he's into everything there is to sell the whole 'demon of lust' thing but he's really not. Shax doesn't know that, though, because to know that is to know Crowley well and Shax does not.

Does Crowley know that Shax is into him? Yeah, he does.

Shax's thing for him is basically the same thing as when Crowley tries to make a phone call after having taken out the mobile phone network for miles. It's the oh, shit, right, that thing I did that's now fucking up my day in the present... He didn't lead her on specifically as much as he just gave off the vibe in general that he's this debauched, wild, so very wicked demon and, well... if your name is Aziraphale, that's not terribly inaccurate lol... but if it's not, then it's actually not true at all...

...and this is why Shax cannot for the fucking life of her figure out what the deal is with Crowley and this angel.

Yes, Shax is trying to goad Aziraphale into confirming that he has Gabriel in this scene but this scene also comes off as Shax so incredibly done with how jealous she is over this, in her eyes, ridiculous being, and she's bitchy as all fuck about it. There were other ways to crack at Aziraphale than over his relationship with Crowley and she goes at that hard. She calls The Bentley an old piece of junk when she's really clearly calling Aziraphale that and saying that she doesn't know why Crowley hasn't gotten "an upgrade" since, implying that she considers herself just the upgrade Crowley needs. She brings up 1941 via the rumors that she heard "80, 90 years ago" that Crowley and Aziraphale were "an item", which we know are at least partially derived from what happened with Furfur, who his Shax's closest friend and totally has tried to tell her that this thing she has for Crowley is hopeless because he's doing that angel, Shax. (Poor, pining Furfur lol.)

Shax knows somewhere that Furfur is probably correct but she's decided to pretend that it's Furfur's thing for her that could have caused him to misconstrue at least part of it, right, because the demon of lust only having eyes for one being, let alone that being being this angel, is absurd to her (even if she thinks she can tame him lol.)

Aziraphale is an angel, for one thing. The bastards who did this to The Fallen and who cast their Master to Hell. Their sworn, hereditary enemy. It was one thing when maybe the angel was a dalliance. Asmodeus, lonely and bored on Earth, tired of all the sex with the mortals, and so very bad that he could corrupt an angel. That's a little hot, actually, if you're Shax, but it's the fact that that... does not appear to be what this relationship is... that unsettles her.

During S2, Shax learns that Crowley has a permanent invite into and keys to the bookshop and that Aziraphale can drive Crowley's car to an extent that Shax even has to trick him to allow her to enter it. The angel really seems like he might be Crowley's partner, which would mean that this wasn't Crowley fucking an angel on a whim in 1941 but that Hell's wild prince of lust has actually secretly been in a romantic relationship with Aziraphale for at least, to Shax's knowledge, almost a century.

The purported baddest demon that ever demoned, shy of the literal devil, is apparently mad for this fusty angel and Shax just cannot get it, ok?

Crowley is a a broody, black-clad rock star and Aziraphale is this twee little bookselling angel to her. Shax thinks maybe this was all part of Crowley's breakdown or something and she's Mr. Brown so she hasn't given up hope here, not for most of S2, but she's mostly been trying to figure out how to get Crowley's attention and that's the funniest part of her whole pash, imo.

Shax has no idea what Crowley is into. She can't figure this out to save her life.

She has no idea that it's over before it started because she is just not what primes the engine of Crowley's star factory over here. It's not personal. He just doesn't have a shred of sexual interest in her. Gabriel is getting more action from Crowley this season and he tried to murder him lol. Crowley's spent millennia cultivating a persona of a sex god and now he's got to live with it and he's just praying he never finds out anything she's fantasizing about him because he shudders at the thought of whatever she envisions them getting up to.

Look at what Shax is wearing when she comes to Earth to meet with Crowley, for one of the more hilarious things...

In Hell, Shax wears modern clothes. When she comes to Earth to meet Crowley in the year 2023, she wears a vintage-inspired outfit that is spanning the mid-1930s through WW2 in style (the era she knows he was involved with Aziraphale, who is her main point of reference for what attracts Asmodeus over here lol)... and the dress has the biggest damn bow ever seen. You could see that bow from space. It's like she's trying desperately to figure out what turns Crowley on and so far she's come up with well, he drives an old car and he's rolled that angel so he likes... old things... vintage clothes, like the angel's. She's trying to out-bow-tie Aziraphale.

Now that Shax can spend time with Crowley alone and the possibility of seducing him is ever-present (lolololol), she's spending time trying to figure out what turns on the prince of lust. She's trying to get Crowley's demonically lustful attention and she's reduced to bow ties, okay, take pity on her... she's just like I don't know what his deal with these are, exactly, as it seems kind of specific... but he can unwrap me anytime if that's his thing...

Then, there's that she's sitting too close to him on the park bench and raking her eyes over him while he's sprawling on it. He's not sprawling in a way meant to be enticing. He's actually mid-existential crisis here but that's fine by Shax. She likes 'em a little dark.

My favorite, though, is a scene that actually parallels S1 in a hilarious way and that's from the hot water boiler scene in the other meta that prompted the ask here but isn't a bit that I mentioned in that one.

As Crowley goes back into the bookshop (and he'd never been happier to be on the other side of that threshold in his life lol), Shax is then as physically close to him as she's ever been. If you notice, she actually inhales twice. The first is a regular breath-- which demons don't technically need to take but yeah lol-- and her expression is all oh Satan, he smells amazing and then she straight up sniffs the air as he opens the door. Girl is huffing her fill over here for those shower fantasies for months to come lol. Crowley knows it as his eyebrows are in his hair as he's turning back around like he's all did she seriously just *sniff* me? ugh...

Shax knows Crowley saw her (honestly, probably also *heard* her... Shax, love, a little subtlety wouldn't kill you...) so she covers it up by pretending like she smelled Gabriel in the bookshop. You smelled the archangel in there, huh, Shax? When you can't get through the door? When Gabriel is the same species as Aziraphale, whose bookshop this is, so this can't be some kind of angel-scent you're claiming you noticed here? lol This then parallels and adds to this Sandalphon scene in S1:

I know there's some debate about if there's such thing as an angelic or a demonic smell but I've actually always taken it to be that there isn't. It would seem to me that it would be hard for them to blend in on Earth if there was and if the demonic one was something off-putting to humans, at least. I think most of us, though, do believe that the "evil" Sandalphon is smelling in the backroom is Crowley but considering that the comment comes from Sandalphon, who is introduced to us with reference to his smiting of people in Sodom and Gomorrah, it honestly just comes off that Sandalphon is a raging homophobe and I've actually always taken that as the reason why Gabriel is here in this scene in the first place.

Absolutely nothing happens in this scene. It's a routine checkup. What is the Supreme Archangel of Heaven doing there? Why is he blowing so much smoke up Sandalphon's ass the whole time? It's kind of like he saw that Michael or someone had assigned Sandalphon to do a checkup of sorts on Aziraphale-- or Sandalphon had assigned himself-- and Gabriel pretended that he wanted to see in person how "the great Sandalphon" worked so that he could tag along and make sure that Sandalphon didn't bother Aziraphale. We also learn that Aziraphale hasn't seen Sandalphon in a long time and I'd bet that Gabriel is responsible for that. Gabriel's 'whatever, idgaf' response to Aziraphale's Jeffrey Archer books comment is so... Gabriel hadn't the first clue who Jeffrey Archer is or why his books would be evil lol. He could have easily further encouraged Sandalphon's pursuit of the "evil" scent. He didn't because he could care less what Aziraphale does in the backroom of his bookshop. If anything, he's jealous of him for having found a way to have some freedom and privacy. Gabriel is queer-- he is like Aziraphale. He's just closeted in S1. He's looking out for Aziraphale here by using his power to shut down Sandalphon and then "you can't have a war without war omg wow you are a poet!" him out of there as fast as is possible. If there truly was an 'evil'/'demonic' smell, Gabriel should have been able to smell it, too, and he doesn't. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to subtly shut down Sandalphon the way he did.

So, Sandalphon isn't smelling a demon. He's smelling another man. The "evil" is that Sandalphon can smell remnants of another cologne that isn't Aziraphale's in the backroom of Aziraphale's bookshop and Sandalphon is a homophobe, so he's implying that Aziraphale having sex and with a man is 'evil', even if there's no direct evidence here of that, just the implication of it.

This then would mean that Shax can't actually smell Gabriel in the bookshop in S2. Like Sandalphon, she's pretending to have a supernatural sense of scent but she's really just smelling Crowley. While Sandalphon was repulsed by the idea of Aziraphale's bookshop backroom having the scent of a man, Shax is just inhaling that same being's scent because omfg. so. good....

...something she can't stand that she has in common with that bastard angel, Aziraphale, who is actually allowed to breathe Crowley in anytime he wants... it's just ridiculous to her. Why the fuck does that beige bookseller get to have the sex god of Shax's dreams in his bed and she doesn't? What could Crowley possibly find attractive about him? That she doesn't know and can't really figure it out shows how little she really knows Crowley and also how little imagination she really has.