#anathema flying

[von-vom]

Started a search to no avail A light that shines behind the veil, trying to find it And all around us everywhere Is all that we could ever share, if only we could see it Feel there's truth that's beyond me Life ever changing weaving destiny

And it feels like I'm flying above you Dream that I'm dying to find the truth Seems like you're trying to bring me down Back down to earth, back down to earth

Layers of dust and yesterdays Shadows fading in the haze of what I couldn't say And though I said my hands were tied Times have changed and now I find, I'm free for the first time Feel so close to everything now Strange how life makes sense in time now

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 8!!

I see your votes everyone, and I hear your voices. But before I can, in good conscience, place us in Heathrow, I need to share this with you.

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******************

In the end, convincing Aziraphale (who, surprise surprise, had never flown on a plane) that First Class was the way to go wasn’t all that hard.

“Otherwise you fly all cramped with hundreds of other people!” You say. Crowley nods.

“Mmmmm yes,” the demon agrees, “Imagine being elbow-to-elbow with all those humans. Feet in your face, children kicking the back of your seat, sharing an armrest!”

“I rather like humans though,” says Azirphale, even though he looks a little pale at the mention of armrests, “And I would be next to you anyway.”

“What about the humans who haven’t showered for days?” You ask, “How long has it been since the last time you were near one person, nevermind a hundred-ish, who didn’t follow basic hygiene practices? A few hundred years?”

Aziraphale’s face falls. Crowley chimes in.

“Oh yes, just imagine all the sweat and grease from the airport food.”

“And then there are the babies that travel. I mean, their ears pop when the plane takes off and when it lands, and they only really have one coping strategy.”

“Aaah,” Crowley says, “The crying babes! Think of all the crying babies and no escape! Not for hours and hours and hours.”

“And then,” You say, “There’s the in-flight meal.” Here, you seem to have struck a cord. Duh, you should have led with this. Aziraphale raises an eyebrow.

“Oh? They serve food?”

“Psh,” You say, “If you can call it that. They ask you if you want chicken or vegetarian, and then they plop a cardboard box with a film top in front of you.”

“It’s dreadful,” agrees Crowley, “All bland and clearly frozen and warmed up in a microwave.”

“And if you’re lucky, you can tell that it’s meant to be a sandwich,” You add.

“Supposing you can tell that it’s food at all!” Crowley says with a nod, “And their wine list is small potatoes.”

“Small bland potatoes,” You say, “If you can call them potatoes at all – served in the tiniest bottles and the tiniest glasses you ever did see.”

You noticed Aziraphale’s eye twitch ever so slightly.

“And in First Class they...they serve actual food and wine, do they?”

“Oh yeah,” You say, “with proper service and cloth napkins and everything. Most of the airline websites say that the food’s prepared by an actual chef.”

“And the glasses are normal sizes, and made of actual glass,” adds Crowley for good measure. Aziraphale hums.

“Yes, fine. Clearly First Class is the only acceptable way to travel.” He leaves the room. You hear the kettle turn on. He probably needs some tea to calm his nerves after hearing all that. You turn to Crowley.

“So you’ve gone on a plane before, huh? Did you invent the food? I would not be surprised if you did.”

“Me?” Crowley says, “Naaaah. Never flown on a plane. Never needed to. But I know a bit of fun when I see it.”

You look up at him and sigh, cradling your chin in your hands for effect.

“It really is no wonder why Aziraphale loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” Crowley says, his ears turning pink.

-----

And now, dear Reader, we arrive at Heathrow. Anathema and Newt had met you at the bookshop, and the four of you drove over together in the Bentley after bidding Newt and Muriel goodbye. You spend the entire wait in line at airport security feeling nervous. Airport security is always a test for your nerves to begin with, but this time you have no passport or paperwork of any kind to twiddle in your hands to take the edge off. Instead, you fidget relentlessly with the button in your pocket (Muriel, being an observant and kind soul, had given you a large-ish green button to put in your pocket “Because you seem nervous, and it looked like it helped you last time.” You swear if anyone harms your new best friend while you’re gone you will end them). The line goes quicker than you would like, and when it gets to be your turn, honestly you’re not sure what happens. It all goes smoothly. Did Aziraphale and Crowley miracle you a passport? Did they click a finger or wave a hand to convince the guard that everything was in order? You have no idea, because you’re too focused on your nerves and Trying Not To Look Suspicious While Worrying That This Makes You Look More Suspicious Than You Would If You Could Just Be Normal About This (if you know the feeling, you know why it gets to be capitalized like that).

Once the stress of airport security is done, you head to the bathroom for a break from the chaos so that you can figure out how to breathe again. Normally, you wouldn’t be That Person to occupy the Accessible Washroom, but since you are desperately trying not to have a panic attack because of all the pent-up anxiety from the whole airport security thing, you decide that you Really Cannot Do People Right Now, and that the single-occupant washroom may be your saving grace. You lock the door and sigh, leaning against the cold metal. It’s comparatively quiet here, and you’re grateful for it. Thank Someone. You resolve to try not to be too long in case someone who actually needs this washroom comes by (although I’m gonna be honest here, reader, right now you need this room for invisible accessibility/health reasons). After a minute or two, you are finally starting to feel your anxiety return to a manageable level. Everything is okay. You are traveling with the most ideal companions you could ever dream of, and the worst part is over. Everything from here on out is smooth sailing.

Except, dear reader, you all voted. And So It Shall Be.

You’ve just finished drying your hands.

“Aah,” says a voice behind you. You jump a solid 3 feet in the air. “I thought I might find you here.”

“HOLY! FUCKING! ZOMBIE! JESUS!!!” You sputter.

“Mind your manners, human.”

“Manners?? ME?? This is a WASHROOM.”

The Metatron looks at you blankly and shrugs. Ah yes, the biggest jerk in Heaven doesn’t know or care about washrooms or privacy. Or actually being polite.

“I merely wanted to have a word with you. Away from the others, of course.”

“Yeeeaaaaah,” You say. You’ve seen a million movies (approximate), and read a million books (also approximate), you know what this is. This is the maybe we can still solve this problem quietly plot. And you know that actually having the conversation is a bad idea. “I don’t think so.”

You reach for thee door. It’s locked, and it won’t unlock. Of course. You (gently) pound your head against the door, before turning to face Metatron. You take a breath, and answer as calmly as you can given how angry you are.

“What. Do you want?”

“I merely hoped that we could agree upon...an arrangement.”

“Pretty sure I made it clear back at the bookshop that I’m not letting you anywhere near them.”

“Oh dear, no. This has nothing to do with the demon or with Aziraphale. This is about you.”

You mentally brace yourself. Here comes the manipulation. You inwardly remind yourself of the tropes of villain manipulation and all the things you’ve ever shouted at the tv screen after one of these interactions. You need to be prepared, because apparently you need to play this out. And so, you give him the response he clearly wants.

“What about me?”

“Well, my dear, I only thought that perhaps you might like to go home.”

“Ha! Nice try.”

“You have no desire to return to your family? Your friends? Your life?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

“And you think you’ll get a similar offer later?”

“I mean...well yeah. I don’t know whether I would actually want to go back yet but --”

“You think Aziraphale and his associates will want to keep you as their pet forever? My dear, they only entertain you right now because you’re useful to them.”

Okay, I mean you knew that already but still. Ouch. Hearing it out loud is just...Ouch. Unfortunately, you do not have the Acting Prowess of either Michael Sheen or David Tennant, and so the Metatron sees the Ouch. He smiles kindly.

“Here, you are merely a tool,” he continues, voice smooth as honey, “And back home there are people who love you and value your presence in their lives. Back home there are people who miss you purely because you are you. Here, you are well, a convenience. A help. But that’s all. And once this is all over, there is no promise, no guarantee that you would be able to return. And no reason for Aziraphale to keep you. You would need to start again, and since you needed the help of an angel to get through airport security, I’m guessing that would be very difficult for you. And then, of course, there’s your immortal soul to be concerned about once the Final Judgment comes to pass.”

You ignore the bait, even though it stings. Take a breath. You’ve got this.

“That’s all irrelevant right now,” You say.

“Is it? It seems that you’re….what’s that charming human expression? Flying by the seat of your pants?” He chuckles at his own joke. You smile awkwardly. Well, yes you are, but the heroes in stories do all the time. They figure it out as they go. You are doing no worse than any of them. You don’t find the joke so funny. And frankly his laughter is unsettling.

“Um...” You start uncertainly, “Well if that’s all, then can I go now?”

“In a moment,” the Metatron says smugly. Oh you hate that he has so much control right now. “First I would like to extend to you the offer of some help. I would like to see you home safely, at a time of your choosing. Whenever you feel that you are ready.”

“And you have the power to do that, do you?” You’re skeptical.

“I have the power of all Creation at my disposal.”

“Riiiiight. Just out of the goodness of your own angelic heart. That’s very kind of you Metatron.” You’re not sure if he hears the edge of sarcasm. He shrugs regardless.

“There is of course, one and only one thing I would like from you if you decide to take my help.”

“Oooooof course there is. I’m not letting you near Aziraphale and Crowley.”

“Once again, my dear, this has nothing to do with them. All I would like is to know why your first instinct was to take that coffee. The full truth, mind you. None of that sarcasm or loophole nonsense that you humans are so fond of. And do not be foolish enough to think I can’t tell the difference.” He looks at you pointedly.

That’s...a suspiciously innocuous request. But then again, it usually is with these sort of things, isn’t it? You feign non-chalance and tap your foot for emphasis.

“Are you done yet?” You ask obstinately. The door unlocks audibly behind you.

“Just think about it,” says the Metatron, “No rush.”

Oh yes there is one. You rush to open the door. Never before have you felt so relieved to be in a crowded place.

Don't worry about airplane route logistics or whether or not you can actually get a direct flight from Heathrow to Orlando. Just vote for whatever you would like :)

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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[buckynats]

Absolutely making shit up as I go. Still finishing the other one and then I have to figure out how to attach them without ruining it all. I actually made my own pattern and cut fabric out to it without crying or panicking this time. So that's progress.

(Ignore how uneven those look, that's my abysmal posture at work. They do actually match in length when I'm standing still. And despite the lighting weirdness, it all matches.)

[papamidnitesblog]

[gael-garcia]

SAG-AFTRA deal on AI is looking terrible, actually 😬

#SAG Actors, I want to make you aware of some of the language in the #AI portion of the tentative SAG agreement.

Though SAG leadership made much effort to protect members in AI, there are many issues you should look at. I have saved the most serious issue for the end. 1/

If a “digital double” is made of you during a film, they must get your consent and inform you of their intentions for its use, EXCEPT "when the photography or sound track remains substantially as scripted, performed and/or recorded.”2/

This is going to be left up to the studios/streamers’ interpretation. And so, any subtlety regarding how you chose to look or move for the character during the shoot could potentially be changed. Your hair, your clothes, your make-up, etc. 3/

Also, your physical placement in a scene can be changed, like your nearness or distance from another character, or even moving you from the front seat of a car "to the back seat of the car." This suggests not much agency on your part to control your character or performance. 4/

Under “(Digital Double) Use Other Than in the Motion Picture for Which the Performer Was Employed,” it says that "No additional compensation shall be required for use of an Employment-Based Digital Replica that was created in connection with employment of a performer who was… 5/

… employed under Schedule F.” It appears that if you were paid Schedule F for the first film, you don’t get paid for the sequels, where they’re just using your digital double instead of you. I suggest members get sharp clarity on this. 6/

If a “digital double” was made of you in a separate manner (on another film or privately made by you), it's referred to as an “independently created digital replica” (ICDR). There is no minimum compensation listed for studios/streamers to use an ICDR of you in… 7/

… any film they want; only consent. You will apparently need to negotiate any compensation on your own. 8/

Neither consent nor compensation is necessary to use your “digital double” if the project is "comment, criticism, scholarship, satire or parody, a docudrama, or historical or biographical work.” So, you could find yourself in a project you never consented to… 9/

…doing things you never were informed of, for no compensation at all. This is the “First Amendment” argument the #GAI tech companies are fond of trotting out. 10/

Another consent exemption is granted to "adjusting lip and/or other facial or body movement and/or the voice of the performer to a foreign language, or for purposes of changes to dialogue or photography necessary for license or sale to a particular market. 11/

The substitution of swear words is not new, but that your “body movements” would be changed suggests you’ll be used like a type of rag doll in post-production. 12/

There are still a few concerns with the Background Performers’ details, but there’s one that stands out as especially sad. "If the Producer uses a background actor’s Background Actor Digital Replica in the role of a principal performer, the background actor shall be paid… 13/

…the minimum rate for a performer… had (they) performed those scene(s) in person.” So, if an extra is “bumped up” to a principal cast member, they never get to experience that position on a set. But you get a check after the fact. 14/

And the most serious issue of them all is the inclusion in the agreement of “Synthetic Performers,” or “AI Objects,” resembling humans. This gives the studios/streamers a green-light to use human-looking AI Objects instead of hiring a human actor. 15/

It’s one thing to use GAI to make a King Kong or a flying serpent (though this displaces many VFX/CGI artists), it is another thing to have an AI Object play a human character instead of a real actor. To me, this inclusion is an anathema to a union contract at all. 16/

This is akin to SAG giving a thumbs-up for studios/streamers using non-union actors. This would be like the @Teamsters putting in their contract that it’s A-OK for the employer to utilize self-driving trucks instead of them. 17/

@Teamsters I find it baffling that a union representing human actors would give approval of those same actors being replaced by an AI Object. And don’t forget, those AI Objects are a mash-up of all actors' past performances, adding insult to injury. 18/

@Teamsters Bottomline, we are in for a very unpleasant era for actors and crew. The use of “digital doubles” alone will reduce the number of available jobs, because bigger name actors will have the opportunity to double or triple-book themselves on multiple projects at once. 19/

@Teamsters The use of these “digital doubles” will most likely preclude the need of a set or the use of many @IATSE crew and @Teamster drivers. 20/

@Teamsters @IATSE @Teamster Audition odds will change. Winning an audition could become very difficult, because you will not just be competing with the available actors who are your type, but you will now compete with every actor, dead or alive, who has made their “digital double” available for rent … 21/

@Teamsters @IATSE @Teamster … in a range of ages to suit the character. You also will be in competition with an infinite number of AI Objects that the studios/streamers can freely use. And a whole cast of AI Objects instead of human actors eliminates the need for a set or any crew at all. 22/

@Teamsters @IATSE @Teamster You are a complex & remarkable human. Don’t let the CEOs convince you otherwise. Seek out filmmakers & showrunners who value your basic worth & committed to human workers on their projects. These are the ones who will make work that matters. We’re going to be OK. Just hold on. /

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

READ 70 PAGES OF THE GOOD OMENS BOOK WITH WHICH I HAVE HOMOEROTIC TENSION AS WE KNOW

WE ALL KNOW ABOUT THE HOMOEROTIC RIVALRY BETWEEN ME AND MY COPY OF THE GOOD OMENS BOOK. WE KNOW. IT STARES AT ME, I STARE BACK, IT DARES ME TO READ IT AND FALL IN LOVE WITH CROWLEY MORE, I REFUSE. WE PUT THE UST IN LUST ETC.

BUT TODAY/YESTERDAY (RIP SLEEP SCHEDULE) SINCE I WASNT ON TUMBLR, I READ TILL PAGE 70 OF THE BOOK (TILL THE PART CALLED WEDNESDAY) AND GOD FUCKING DAMN. I READ IT LISTENING TO AN AZIRAPHALE BOOKSHOP AMBIENCE AND WITH CHOPIN PLAYING AND CANDLES LIT. ANYWAY. THINGS THAT HAVE STUCK OUT TO ME:

Crowley. Just everything about Crowley. God I love him. I fucking love him. This is why I avoid reading the book. I'm such a slut for Crowley. It's manageable on the show when I know it's an actor. But WORDS CROWLEY? WORDS CROWLEY IS REAL. I AM SO IN LOVE.

Aziraphale has perfectly manicured hands. I'm pretty sure this has been mentioned three times in the first 70 pages. Three times at minimum. I forget how twink he is in the show (idk how) but man the book does NOT let you forget and I love that.

Crowley absent-mindedly sank a duck. Aziraphale called him my dear (fanfic authors everywhere: write that down write that motherfucking shit down it's better than porn). Crowley un-sunk the duck. The duck was cross.

CROWLEY DID I MENTIONED CROWLEY OH MY BABY FANCIED THE JAMES BOND DECALS HE WANTED TO LISTEN TO VIVALDI COZ THEY WERE SO STRESSED AFTER RECEIVING THE ANTICHRIST THEY LOVE GOLDEN GIRLS (I LOOKED IT UP AND OH CROWLEY) THEY DRANK FOR A WEEK AFTER SEEING THE SPANISH INQUISITION THEY OMG.

THE DRUNK SCENE. I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD THE DOLPHINS CONVERSATION. OMG THESE TWO FUCKING FOOLS I ADORE THEM.

Crowley IN THAT SCENE AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT SCENE HOLY SHIT. CROWLEY JUST LISTING OFF ALL THE THINGS SHE KNOWS AZIRAPHALE LOVES.

AND OMG. The CONVOLUTED FUCKING METAPHOR CROWLEY COMES UP WITH INVOLVING A LITTLE BIRD FLYING TO THE ENDS OF THE UNIVERSE AND PECKING A MOUNTAIN AND COMING BACK AND DOING IT ON LOOP. FOR WHAT? JUST TO SAY THAT WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WAS GONE, HEAVEN WOULD STILL BE PLAYING THE SOUND OF MUSIC.

As usual just like me Crowley shot himself in the foot with that metaphor. Because AZIRAPHALE, THE LEGEND, STARTS SAYING THE BIRD MUST BE IMMORTAL FOR THAT, AND THEN SAYS NO ACTUALLY THE BIRD IS BEING CARRIED IN A SPACESHIP AND THE DESCENDANTS EMERGE FROM THE SPACESHIP and poor crowley is saying SO THE BIRD REACHES THE MOUNTAIN and azi excitedly says IN THE SPACESHIP and AAAAAAAAA-

Anyway right yes sorry what were we doing oh right the book.

Anathema is so adorable as a kid what a little brat holy shit I love her. I want to see all her homework written in Middle English. I want to know which teacher finally summoned the balls to correct it.

NEWT MON CHERI HE'S SO EXCITED ABOUT ONLY DESTROYING THE HOUSE'S POWER CIRCUIT WITH HIS EXPERIMENT. Because apparently last time he fucking caused a power outage in the whole block. Or county. We stan an optimist (no one talk to me about Crowley being an optimist I will go feral and rip your larynx out).

THE THIRD BABY DID NOT WIN PRIZES FOR TROPICAL FISH. THIS IS LIKE THE ENDING OF VILETTE WHEN CHARLOTTE BRONTE GOT GUILTTRIPPED BY HER DAD INTO WRITING IT AS AN OPEN ENDING BUT WE ALL KNOW IT'S A TRAGEDY FUCK ME.

CROWLEY THE PRAY THAT HE DOESN'T IT SOUNDS SO SUAVE IN THE SHOW BUT IN THE BOOK IT LITERALLY SAYS "AND FLEES". THE CHAOTIC ANXIOUS MOTHERFUCKER MAKES A RUN FOR IT.

AZIRAPHALE FUCKING GLOWERING AT CUSTOMERS AND SCARING THEM AWAY USING EVERY MEANS SHORT OF PHYSICAL VIOLENCE IM DEAD THAT LITTLE BASTARD PEAK CROSS INTROVERT ELDRITCH MONSTER ENERGY.

I CAN'T WAIT FOR ADAM TO ENTER (WELL AS A NOT BABY) AHAH.

I HOPE WARLOCK IS OKAY.

CROWLEY BEING DESCRIBED AS A YOUNG MAN DOES THINGS TO ME. AS DO THE DARK HAIR AND GOOD CHEEKBONES. DON'T EVEN TALK ABOUT DOING WEIRD THINGS WITH HIS TONGUE. I AM A SLUT FOR HER. IT'S TIMES LIKE THIS I REMEMBER WHY IM GREYACE AND NOT ENTIRELY ASEXUAL. IT'S CROWLEY.

I LOVE THE SUBTLE JOKES LIKE I DON'T EVEN GET SOME BUT THE DRY TONE IS HILARIOUS. LIKE HOW BOTH WARLOCK'S HEAVENLY AND HELLISH TUTORS READ FROM THE BOOK OF REVELATION. AND THE CUTTING COMMENTARY LIKE HOW THE DOWLINGS' SECRET AGENTS WERE TRAINED TO REACT TO WOMEN IN LONG ROBES. OR THE POLITICAL COMEDY WITH ALL THE CULTURAL ATTACHES AT ST JAMES. IT MAKES ME AMUSED EVEN THOUGH I HAVE NO CONTEXT. I WISH I UNDERSTOOD THEM MORE.

SORRY WHY AM I YELLING ABOUT THIS BEFORE 6 IN THE MORNING FUCK I FORGOT MY SLEEP MEDS NO WONDER IM STILL AWAKE AND HYPER ALSO CROWLEY ALSO AZI ALSO ADAM I HOPE MY LITTLE PLANTS MAKE IT.

WHEN IM DONE READING THE BOOK I WANNA REREAD IT OUT LOUD TO MY THREE LITTLE PLANTS TO MAKE THEM GROW HAPPY AND KNOW WHOM THEY WERE NAMED AFTER.

[mrhyde-mrseek]

I’m on a Good Omens kick because of the season 2 intro dropping (I saw a sneak peek on the official Good Omens Prime Instagram), so here’s some headcanons:

I’ve posted about this one before, but Beelzebub definitely has arachnophobia, being a fly demon.

Additionally, they also despise Venus fly traps, and refuse to go within ten feet of one. Crowley has three in his flat for this exact reason.

Crowley has been to EVERY Queen concert. He never bought a ticket even once, but he always managed to get the best seat at the venue (with the help of a little demonic miracle or two).

Before Almostageddon, Crowley would leave various things behind at the bookshop—neckties, tapes from the Bentley, even his sunglasses one time—on “accident” just so he has an excuse to go back.

(He doesn’t need an excuse anymore, but he still does this sometimes.)

He also listens to “Death on Two Legs (Dedicated To…)” whenever he’s feeling especially resentful toward Heaven and/or Hell.

Aziraphale’s favorite hot cocoa recipe is: one and a half cups of milk, four ounces of dark chocolate, half a teaspoon of vanilla, half a teaspoon of cinnamon, a quarter teaspoon of nutmeg, whipped cream, and six marshmallows exactly. Sometimes a spoonful of honey if he wants it to be sweeter.

War can sprint, climb, and fight in heels no matter how tall they are.

When Newt proposed to Anathema, he was so nervous he almost dropped the ring twice.

Pollution has never been misgendered once because besides the fact that they tend to go unnoticed, they exude such a strong sense of “weird supernatural entity” that most people have trouble trying to figure out if they’re even human, much less what’s in their pants.

Gabriel and Beelzebub would sometimes spy on Aziraphale and Crowley together, doing various human things (poorly) to avoid detection. During one of these surveillance meetings near a café, Beelzebub forced Gabriel to at least pretend to consume something so he didn’t appear out of place. He reluctantly bought a black coffee, took one sip, and immediately gagged. Beelzebub couldn’t stop laughing for five minutes straight. (They totally gave away the game, but it was worth it to tease Gabriel.)

[crowleysgirl56]

Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 17.

Sex! That’s right we’re going there. Because my latest random post got a lot of differing opinions (which was really just for shits and giggles. Nothing I say should be taken seriously 😜) I thought I’d address what my actual prediction and also wildest hope for season 3 is.

I think what we will get is an implied sex scene. For a number of reasons.

1. The tone of the show is not explicit. Even though you can definitely point to other Amazon Prime shows that will go there (exhibit A: American Gods), I don’t think we would get that for Good Omens.

2. It’s a comedy. So if anything we would get something that is almost silly. Probably to parallel the ridiculous and funny sex scene between Anathema and Newt in season 1 (think of them under the bed popping in and out of frame as papers fly everywhere). I don’t think the S3 scene would be specifically played for laughs, because this is the type of show that is very respectful of a same sex relationship. We’ve had way too many horrible experiences for decades of television programs playing up “men having sex = stupid/silly/funny/not serious/etc”. Neil would not let something like this happen (Exhibit B: American Gods, again). So I would suggest the situation leading up to the act would probably be ridiculous or something we can laugh at, but the act itself would not.

3. Neil reblogged a post a few months ago and annoyingly I can’t find it. But it had something to do with same sex coupling in media and how important it is, and he basically said something along the lines of “I don’t write these kinds of scenes but now I wish I did”. I think he was possible responding to someone saying “Neil wouldn’t do something like that”. That’s a pretty interesting thought and a very pointed comment to make at a time when he had either just started writing season 3, or right before it. Or at least that’s when I saw the post. This is Tumblr so for all I know it could have been posted 2 years ago (seriously, how does Tumblr work? I’ve only been here 6 months!).

So what do I think will ACTUALLY happen? I think we’ll get Crowley and Aziraphale passionately kiss, get to Aziraphale’s bedroom and then fall onto the bed out of shot. If we’re lucky we might get close up shots of hands intertwining, more kissing, some removal of clothing perhaps. Then the scene would shift outside to Whickber street. People will probably noticing a trembling in the ground. Maybe in Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death we see tea and coffee cups rattling on the table and Nina looking confused and concerned. Then a brilliant white light pours out of the upper floor window of the book shop. Cut back to Aziraphale and Crowley holding each other and panting, but it’s a tasteful shoulders up shot.

Subtle, implied, still pretty hot.

So in the mean time, if you want something explicit, to AO3 my fellow Smutgoblins!

[beebopboom]

What’s inside the box?

(yknow besides the Fly)

I’m curious to see what are some people’s thoughts on this - no matter how wild they seem

Besides the Fly and the later lost plays what has been in this box? If anything at all?

Gabriel summons it up in Heaven - says he has to clean out his desk - he says he had something to give to Aziraphale

Jim does say his arms were aching from carrying it for so long. A heavy box and yet no one is home.

It’s also the same type of box Anathema uses to move

Boxes that contains all her witchy gear and one, Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, book - the only thing we actively see take out of a box

And although not the same type of box it is The Box of season one

which contains Agnes’s prophecies for life after Armageddon. 

[fayannah]

wow guess who finished the entire good omens show in two days. i just finished screaming into a pillow for the 500th time so i believe im safe to write this.

Spoilers for Good Omens Season 1 and Two Below

Thoughts on Season 1:

The Things I Didn't Like:

I honestly don't like Anathema as much in the show. It feels like the same problem I had with Wonka (other than it being a horrble movie with annoying characters) Both Anathema and Wonka are supposed to be "quirky" characters with a lot of knowledge but it comes off as annoying and cringy.

That's really my only major pet peeve, except for maybe Adam's eyes when they turn red looking not the best.

The Things I Liked:

Beelzebub's actor. Holy shit, her accent is to die for. Every line I love the performance of it. Honestly all the acting in this show is top notch (except for said person above)

I was not expecting to love David Tennant as Crowley. To me he's the goofy silly all powerful Doctor, but he pulls it off really well. He will forever be my greasy gay Crowley

The same thing happened with Aziraphale, less about the actor and more about the appearance. I was unsure about how he looked because that's not how I imagined him. Quickly, I realized that Azriaphale is perfect in every way and I love him.

The book is very dense and the show expands on many of those concepts. I understood a lot more things in the show then in the book.

The Them were a lot more tolerable in the show. Their conversations were so damn long and I wanted to get back to my pookie bears.

I love Shadwell and I keep on repeating his lines to try and get my scottish accent better.

There's so much more I liked but I can't think of it rn and I'm aching to get to season 2.

Thoughts on Season 2:

The Things I Didn't Like:

Beelzebub's new actor, she was fine and stereotypically pretty I just miss Anna Maxwell Martin. I did like her makeup though.

The minisodes were kind of annyoing if you were binging it like me.

I'm going to skip the things I liked because I need to rant.

Thoughts on The Ending:

The fly thing felt less like a fix-it because of the explanation of Gabriel and Beelzebub's relationship.

The Metatron is a dick. Holy shit I hate that man. I'm going to burn him at the stake.

I knew they kissed in the finale but not like this.

[black-arcana]

EPICA's Next Album Will Be Band's 'Most Epic' Release So Far

In a recent interview with Spain's Mariskal Rock, EPICA singer Simone Simons spoke about the progress of the recording sessions for the follow-up to 2021's "Omega" album. She said (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET): "I think that there should be a single by the end of the summer-ish. That's that's our plan. And the album should be released [in] 2025.

"I just wrote with Mark [Jansen, guitar] and Rob [Van Der Loo, bass] also yesterday that I'm so happy with the songs, I'm so proud how everything turned out and it's gonna be another amazing EPICA album.

"We added a couple of new elements, but also went back to the roots, the old EPICA," she continued. "And yeah, I just can't wait for people to hear this.

"I loved 'Omega' and we toured so much with 'Omega' and had wonderful experiences, but then when you reach the end of a touring cycle, you start to get itchy and feel, 'Okay, now it's time to do the new album. Can we do it as good or maybe even better than the last album?' That's always the thing we strive for, ways to renew ourselves a little bit. And we feel a very strong spiritual connection also that it's our ninth album. So there's gonna be themes around the symbolic meaning of nine, the number nine."

Elaborating on the musical direction of EPICA's next album, Simone said: "The songs are heavy. There's a beautiful ballad, a very cinematic song, very uptempo, very doomy, melancholic and amazing, amazing power riffs. It's the most epic EPICA, I think, so far. Yeah, I think so. I mean, I'm feeling it. I'm very happy with it. I'm proud of it. And they are going to start recording the orchestra now next week. They're flying to Prague; that's where we record the orchestra. And I will be recording my final vocals as well."

In November 2022, EPICA released "The Alchemy Project" through Atomic Fire Records. The EP was co-written and performed with diverse guests ranging from extremists like FLESHGOD APOCALYPSE, Niilo Sevänen (INSOMNIUM) and Björn "Speed" Strid (SOILWORK) along with melodic masters like Tommy Karevik (KAMELOT),keyboard legend Phil Lanzon (URIAH HEEP) and Roel Van Helden (POWERWOLF) to a once-in-a-lifetime song with Simons, Charlotte Wessels and Myrkur.

Just one day after the release of its anniversary reissues "We Still Take You With Us" and "Live At Paradiso", EPICA celebrated 20 years of existence live in September 2022 at 013 in Tilburg, Netherlands, the same place where they played their first show (supporting ANATHEMA) back in 2002.

EPICA was formed by Jansen after leaving AFTER FOREVER in 2002, and the band quickly gained attention outside their home country, taking big steps towards becoming the leading symphonic metal superpower they have long proven to be. After their ambitious debut "The Phantom Agony" (2002) and the surprisingly eclectic sophomore work "Consign To Oblivion" (2005),the road took them to new heights via their first concept masterpiece "The Divine Conspiracy" (2007) and their global breakthrough "Design Your Universe" (2009). 2012's opus "Requiem For The Indifferent", 2014's bedazzling "The Quantum Enigma" and "The Holographic Principle" (2016),cemented their reputation as not only one of the hardest-working metal bands in the business but also as one of the best. With "Omega", the final part of the metaphysical trilogy they began with "The Quantum Enigma", they reclaimed the throne without so much as the blink of an eye, amassing three million-plus streams during the first week of the album's release.

Photo credit: Tim Tronckoe

[manicpixiedreamcrowley]

GOOD OMENS fic recs (#1)

-> fic info includes: title, link, author, rating, chapter count, word count, summary, and my notes

-> total of 28 fic recs (+2 accompanying podfics)

if any of the links are broken, please send me a message so i can fix them!

"sweet surprises" by euterpein | G, oneshot, 15.1k

Aziraphale, for reasons even she can't fathom, has volunteered to help out at the Halloween extravaganza being hosted at Adam's school. Things are going well until a certain red-haired solicitor and her son also get involved... Featuring unfortunate assumptions, secret plots, and an inordinate amount of pining.

notes: starting strong with ineffable wives human au ft. misunderstandings but with fluff instead of angst

"sweetest downfall" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 9.9k

It hits Aziraphale out of the blue one day that if loving Crowley is a sin then it’s the only sin worth committing. or: some falls are gentle

notes: also ineffable wives romance with a bit of hurt crowley and protective aziraphale

"with her i would fly" by mickyrc | G, oneshot, 1.4k

Crowley curled up a little tighter, nuzzling her cheek into Aziraphale’s tummy and purring when her fingers dipped into the nook behind her ear. They’d been there for hours already, slowly working through a bottle of wine while Crowley slowly melted into her wife’s side. It's just a quiet night, cuddled together on the couch, and Aziraphale's found a poem that reminds her of Crowley.

notes: ineffable wives again but domestic fluff and cuddling

"fire in your heart (and your kitchen)" by waitingtobebroken | T+, 2/2, 7k

The most beautiful man that Crowley has ever seen is also the firefighter that keeps having to put out the fires in his kitchen. It just so happens that Crowley is awful at cooking.

notes: crowley starting kitchen fires for an excuse to talk to firefighter aziraphale

"the bicycle" by thelordoflamancha | G, oneshot, 1.8k

"Lily had heard the rumors about the penthouse flat in this particular building near Berkley Square in Mayfair. She had heard them talk about the mythical snake and the angry man that shouted at all hours of the day. She had seen the library staff consoling shaken door-to-door salespeople, petitioners, and volunteers sheltering in the library lobby after a run in with the owner. She knew the tales of the fearsome man with sharp teeth who would make mincemeat of even the bravest adult to cast their shadow upon his doorstep. Certainly, it was no place for a child. Even the kindly librarian had advised her away from this particular building in her fundraising quest." Or, Crowley helps Lily win the bicycle.

notes: another outsider pov fic but this time it's crowley encouraging corrupt marketing tactics in a kid

"a familiar bond" by chubbsthefish | T+, 20/20, 38.6k

There is a reason witches are warned not to summon demons. The sleepy town of Tadfield was supposed to be peaceful, a town full of witches practicing their craft without worry of outside persecution. At least it was until someone let a demon loose. But local bookshop owner and garden enthusiast Aziraphale doesn't really care about all that nonsense, not when he has just acquired a new friend and companion in the shape of a Familiar. Crowley just wanted to head back home. But that's getting harder to do now that he's gone and gotten attached to a certain witch, which is bad since he does not want the pure-hearted man to be corrupted by his mere presence.

notes: i can't really fawn over this without spoiling it so just go read it and report back to me

"something familiar" by joldiego | T+, oneshot, 2.5k

Aziraphale is laid out on the couch, seemingly asleep. This is not shocking. What is shocking, however, is the giant black snake coiled around him from head to toe. Anathema and Newt drop by the bookshop and make a startling discovery. Aziraphale and Crowley are just trying to have a lazy Saturday morning.

notes: outsider pov fic but through the perspective of anathema who can't exactly remember armageddon and thus doesn't know the bible lore around them

"mine" by joifuldreaming | T+, oneshot, 1.5k

Crowley is oblivious, Aziraphale is jealous.

notes: possessive aziraphale is something i didn't know i needed, but now that it has been brought to my attention, i can't get over it

"show me the sugar" by waitingtobebroken | T+, oneshot, 4.1k

When the new "couple" moves in the cottage down the road, it's apparent to everyone what their Arrangement is. Rachel, the owner of the pet shop they had just visited, is not so sure anymore. Who was supposed to be the sugar father again?

notes: i've read this one several times, i love it so much, i'm obsessed with outsider pov fics trying to understand what their deal is

PODFIC AVAILABLE

"find it in the dictionary under 'L'" by his_infinitevariety | G, oneshot, 1.7k

Demons can’t feel love, but Aziraphale can’t help noticing how much Crowley’s suddenly flinging the word around.

notes: one of those fics where aziraphale can sense love but either a) can't feel it from crowley for some reason or b) doesn't know it's him

"you are home (half of me)" by angelsnuffbox | T+, 5/5, 28.5k

Aziraphale had gotten dumped, plain and simple. But that small detail wasn’t nearly as important as all the things that happened after he’d gotten dumped - such as coming to a few realisations about his best friend of sixteen years.

notes: the epitome of gay people not being able to identify relationships

"the blinding look from me to you" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 13k

There are nights Crowley aches so deeply she can hardly stand it. Nights where she’ll do anything to rid herself of it. She knows how Aziraphale’s arms feel around her and it’s the worst kind of torture, the worst kind of agony, because she knows she’ll never have it again. or: crowley aches for aziraphale in the best and worst ways

notes: holy shit dude

more elaborate notes: ineffable wives pining throughout the ages, this one is through crowley's pov

"are you my future or just an escape?" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 20.1k

She wants to kiss Crowley and the urge doesn’t scare her like she thought it would – maybe it’s something she’s wanted all along but hasn’t allowed herself to think about. A dangerous thing, an angel wanting. Even more dangerous for an angel to give in. or: aziraphale can't stop looking at crowley and overthinking everything (companion piece to 'the blinding look from me to you' but can 100% be read alone)

notes: i actually read this one first, this is aziraphale's pov of the previous fic but could be read as a standalone

my ao3 history says "visited 15 times" as if i don't know that

"spare the righteous" by appleseeds | M, 4/4, 12.7k

When Father Gabriel brings a snake to their chapel and insists the nuns handle the animal as a demonstration of their faith, Sister Aziraphale can't help but be frightened. After a series of visits from Father Gabriel, when everyone in her Order has been bitten by the snake except for Aziraphale, suspicions rise and rumours spread, putting her future amongst them in jeopardy. At least Aziraphale has somebody to confide in about her worries - a lovely woman by the name of Crowley, who has recently started visiting the nunnery's bookshop on a regular basis and has proven herself to be very kind and understanding. Unfortunately for Aziraphale, she's also extraordinarily attractive and a constant source of temptation that Aziraphale isn't entirely sure she wants to resist.

notes: they're lesbians again! i have also read this fic 15+ times

"unexplained phenomena: or 5 times crowley & aziraphale didn’t kiss for the kiss cam and one time they did" by fractalgeometry | G, oneshot, 2.2k

Emma Rathmore knows everyone who comes to her son’s baseball games. Until she doesn’t. Still, even if she only ever sees these newcomers through the ridiculous new kiss cam, at some point they stop feeling so much like strangers. They’re certainly...interesting. And slightly baffling. But definitely interesting.

notes: outsider pov fic

“doggone batty” by kedreeva | T+, 4/4, 14.3k

Aziraphale, a werewolf who never fit in well with the rest of his pack, moves into a house he's just inherited a long ways away. The only problem is that he finds there's something more than a little amiss with his new neighbor.

notes: it’s impressive how in-character they are

“catalyst” by ikarakie | T+, oneshot, 7k

aziraphale spots a new sign on the door of the local brothel. that, a lunch date, and an obnoxious man bully him into finally making his demon actually his. OR aziraphale realises he has competition and immediately does something about it.

notes: starring jealous aziraphale, aka my FAVORITE aziraphale. i love it when he’s a bitch he deserves it

“all the dreams we had” by impishtubist | T+, 2/2, 6.4k

This time will be different, Aziraphale thinks. This time, Crowley will remember.

notes: this is one of the most devastating fics ever btw it has like…time loop aspects and amnesia at the same time..honestly even if nobody else goes through this whole list i’m glad that i was able to reread it LMAO

"and it hurt" by ineffabledoll | T+, oneshot, 3.6k

Aziraphale can sense love, but it was never supposed to be like this. The love was never supposed to be for him, for an angel, for beings loved only by God. It was not supposed to grow and grow, the ashen forest of a single spark.

notes: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ABSENCE OF COLD AND PRESENCE OF WARMTH...I AM UNWELL

"never judge books by their...?" by worseomens | *NR, oneshot, 4.4k

There's a burglary in Soho, right across the road from AZ Fell & Co's Antique Bookseller's. An angel and a demon are called in for questioning, and the detectives involved start to form opinions... (OR: Crowley's a flirt, and Aziraphale doesn't do PDA; people start to get the wrong idea)

*author did not rate fic, but i'd put it between G/T+ with no significant warnings

notes: another outsider pov fic

PODFIC AVAILABLE

"digging for gold" by worseomens | *NR, oneshot, 5.6k

Crowley finally stops hiding his visits to the bookshop, now the celestial powers-that-be have decided to butt out, only to be faced with a whole new challenge. (OR: The people of Soho make sure this newcomer isn’t about to hurt their beloved local madman)

*same as previous fic

notes: ANOTHER outsider pov fic from the outsider pov series by worseomens (total of 22 fics), this is one of my favorite outsider pov fics ever

"heavenly wicked cafe" by waitingtobebroken | T+, 7/7, 33.9k

There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

notes: i wish they knew how to communicate like this in canon

"from eden ('till armageddon)" by ikarakie | G, oneshot, 3.3k

the british museum needs to take their nose out of crowley's damn business. OR a 200 year old journal full of crowley's pining and confessions ends up on display.

notes: historians finding crowley's diary like damn this guy is so queer we gotta put this on display

"a model guardian" by fuuma_san | E, 23/23, 147.4k

Crowley is a self-sufficient model on the verge of stardom. They clawed their way up all by themselves and the very last thing they want is some cream puff bodyguard their agency hired following them around constantly. Pretending to be their boyfriend at work so they don't get a reputation as a Diva. Watching over them. Caring for them. But then it turns out "Fell" was not even his real name. Was it all fake? Would someone like him ever want someone like them?

notes: this is a giant leap from mostly oneshots but this is like doing drugs for everyone who loves with a good bodyguard au <3 be sure to check tags for possible trigger warnings

"revelation" by syrupfactory | M, 4/4, 13.9k

The year is 3021, and Aziraphale and Crowley have been married for a thousand years. Together, they manage the London Archive, a futuristic information hub that stands on the same block that one held a bookstore. An Anglican priest who visits regularly has a huge crush on Aziraphale, and Crowley is amused … until the priest grows bitter enough to make a very poor choice. As it turns out, envy is a bad look for a man of the cloth, and pissing off an angel is far worse.

notes: can you tell i love outsider pov fics? i just need to see what other people think of these freaks

"candied apples" by pentagrammar | T+, 20/20, 46k

Crowley, his diet being as limited as it is, has never had a craving before. But that is before he saw Aziraphale. At least, he thinks it’s a craving. Now, he is embarrassingly fixated on a single human, and to make matters worse, none of his plans seem to be working. Being a vampire is hard. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is growing increasingly concerned about the odd man who keeps showing up and saying deranged things, and the fact that his dear friend Anathema is convinced that an evil presence has latched itself onto his bookshop.

notes: crowley is sooo dumb my babygirl the love of my life (widely applicable statement to him in general)

"couldn't resist" by edosianorchids901 & luinlothana | G, oneshot, 3k

When Crowley falls asleep waiting for Aziraphale to finish reading a chapter, the angel has an idea based on photos the demon showed him a few days prior.

notes: snake crowley being dressed up in little outfits GOD i love this

"snake eyes" by lucy_ferrier | G, oneshot, 3k

Crowley has snake eyes. They look like snake eyes. They function like snake eyes. The thing is snake eyes aren't all that good for seeing with. He doesn't really seem to let it stop him from doing what he wants.

notes: blind crowley with canon typical communication skills (read: none)

[jenahsey-creates]

Crowley: Really Angel, wearing a bowtie the humans gave you?

Aziraphale: Tartan's stylish!

@ineffable-hyperfixation gave me the idea that Azi could be a resident of a wildlife sanctuary and got his bowtie from his carers (who I am thinking would definitely be Newt and Anathema). After Crowley is rescued after taking a shotgun to his wings he is still very distrustful of humans, but at least he's got access to all the yum yums a spoiled flying fox could want!

Share your ideas and headcanons for Aussie!Omens, I love to hear them to help build this little AU!

[rainythefox]

After Midnight

Sequel to Nightfall - AO3 Link

Summary: Three months after her near-death entanglement with Albert Wesker, Claire Redfield remains fettered to him as both lover and prisoner. As such, he once again pulls her into his dark games of power and control. Adamant at having her all to himself, Wesker's hold on her tightens as he pulls them both towards an unsatiable holy grail. But this is to be just the beginning of what would become an absolute nightmare...

Claire/Wesker, Chris/Jill, slight Claire/Leon and Ada/Leon. (also big focus on Wesker and William's friendship and past). Pre-RE1- Code Veronica time frame.

Chapter 1: Behind Blue Eyes

November 4th, 1971…

“The world needed your mother. She was essential. To modern science. To the future. Not you. You are disposable. An expedient…no, an anathema upon this world.”

His father’s last words to him repeated in his head, again and again. 

Then he was left behind at this strange facility with all the white coats.

That was after spending his birthday two days ago flying across the Atlantic Ocean to the United States.

Chicago, he recalled. That’s where he was. A research facility in Chicago. His father had spoken with the man in charge here…something about compensation for his “participation”. Anything to get that funding he always talked about for his research…

The doctors here poked and prodded him. Drew a lot of blood. Ran numerous tests. Nothing he wasn’t used to.

The young boy sat on an examination table in a small white-walled room for what felt like hours, the lights irradiant, just like the rooms he had often found himself in back home. The brightness hurt his eyes. He winced and squeezed his blue eyes shut. If he didn’t, he felt he would go blind.

He didn’t bother checking the door. He knew it would be locked. Everything in his life was controlled. When he could eat, when he could sleep, when he could leave. Isolated. All alone. Although that wasn’t anything new. He had always felt this way. His father abandoned him years ago, even if he had seen him every day of his life up until now.

Anathema…anathema, he thought over and over. He knew the word. A curse. Abomination. Something consigned for sacrificial offering and destruction.

The door opened. Instead of the usual apathy that accompanied him, always knowing it to be his father, a fleeting anxiety passed through him as two strangers entered.

One was the man in charge here his father had spoken to for “compensation”. He was quite important, a lord he’d overheard, but the boy knew nothing of who he was. The other man was a doctor and seemed to be friends with the lord. They both looked to be in their late 40s, although it was just a guess.

The lord wore a proud, triumphant smile, looking the boy over as though he was a prize of sorts.

“Hello, Albert,” he greeted politely, kneeling beside the boy. “It’s an honor to finally meet your acquaintance. I am a longstanding colleague of your father, Andric. My name is Lord Ozwell Spencer, but you may call me Ozwell.”

The lord extended his hand. Albert stared at it. Clean, soft skin. No scars. No calluses. There was a big ring with a familiar crest on its face. It made his head hurt as he tried to recall where he’d seen it. They had never met before, but the boy felt this man somehow knew all about him. He didn’t take the offered palm. The smile was camouflage, the handshake a venomous bite.

Ozwell’s British accent carried a mix of elegance and power. It was more evident than Albert’s father’s accent, which had lost much of its original Germanic cadence from working in England.

The lord didn’t seem displeased when Albert didn't take his hand. He softly chuckled, his eyes still not leaving the boy. “Strong, silent type, I see. I like that in a young man.” He motioned to Albert’s face. "Did you get into a fight at school?”

He was so used to it that Albert had forgotten all about it. “My father never appreciated me challenging him.” Albert glared at the lord. “Tell me, did my father get his just compensation for dropping me at this hellhole?”

Ozwell glanced back at the doctor with a pleased smirk. His friend didn’t smile back, looking more surprised than anything, and scribbled on his clipboard.

“I assure you, young man, that ‘compensation’ was for something else…something before you were born that I owed him. His research is valuable to my company. And so we thought it best I take you in for a bit so he could work away on a very important enterprise.”

Why did adults always lie? Did they think him gullible?

“Something tells me you aren’t so heartbroken over it,” Ozwell said softly, offering the boy a friendly, reassuring smile. “Trust me, you’ll be far happier here. My dear friend Dr. Hensley will just run a few more tests to make sure you are in good health, and then we can get you situated, alright?”

Albert didn’t bother nodding or answering. He didn’t have a choice. They escorted him through the bright, winding hallways of the medical facility. His head hurt. He spotted other children here but never crossed paths with them.

“Are you alright, Albert?” Ozwell asked.

“The lights hurt my eyes.”

The lord slowly nodded, seemingly logging it away with a quick side glance at Dr. Hensely.

When they got to their destination, it wasn’t another patient room, it was a fully functioning laboratory, similar to his father’s. They took him into the back where Dr. Hensley carefully performed a set of tests, including drawing more blood. Afterwards, he was left alone so they could talk in the room next door.

Albert hopped down from his seat and padded over to the cracked door to eavesdrop.

“I told you he was a beautiful specimen, didn’t I?” Ozwell stated. “I’m eager to see him as an adult after the indoctrination and training. He will be the perfect candidate for the next evolution of my project. Tell me the results you’ve received.”

“He’s in impeccable health, my Lord,” Dr. Hensley answered. “He’s developing how we had anticipated and his new genetic screening results are what you were hoping for.”

“Perfect to pair with Alex in the future, then?”

Alex? His sister he’d recently found out about? Pair with her how?

“Without a doubt. However, I am concerned with his lack of socialization and interpersonal skills.”

“He was raised that way on purpose. Don’t worry, he’ll gain those with James.” The lord paused, thinking, and then asked, “Was the light sensitivity listed before on his genetics? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Dr. Hensely shook his head. “No, but it’s a common condition when breeding for the Aryan characteristics that you desire. Nothing to be concerned about.”

“Does he remember anything outside of Andric?”

“He does recall the boarding school with the other Wesker children, but not enough that concerns me. The mind manipulation and synthetic memories are solid. If we continue doing what we are doing, he will never remember it all on his own.”

What?!

“Excellent,” Ozwell praised. “Start the next process immediately. I’m leaving for home to meet with Lord Ashford, Lord Henry, and Lord Beardsley tomorrow. James has already been informed and has prepared for Albert to stay with him. Just make sure to wipe his memories of the last few days and reprogram him before handing him over.”

“As you wish, my Lord.”

“And I mean it, Theodore. The utmost care and diligence in handling Albert. His value is beyond estimation. He is one of the most important assets of our future.”

Asset? His father had called him the opposite…yet the same, gut-churning feeling came from the word. The same bad taste in his mouth as though he was just something to be used. A tool, a weapon, but in the end, thrown away. 

Panicking, the boy raced to the door, knowing full well it would be locked. He turned the knob and tugged on it anyway. I have to get out of here! 

It didn't budge. Trapped like always.

He didn’t want to forget. He didn’t want his mind manipulated. He didn’t want to be controlled. Ruled. If only he was stronger…

What had he done to deserve this? His father’s voice played in his head, blaming him for his mother’s death, day after day after day. Was it that? He didn’t mean for it to happen!

Albert moved away from the door when Ozwell and Dr. Hensely emerged from the back room. The boy pretended to be interested in the x-rays on the wall, feigning composure.

“Well, Albert, my boy,” the lord sighed, the same creepy smile and watchful eyes on him, “I must take my leave. I have important duties to attend. Dr. Hensely will take good care of you. Please behave for him. I'll see you soon.”

Albert stayed silent, a growing knot of disgust and hatred twisting in his stomach. He thinks I belong to him. I’m not his. I don’t belong to anyone!

After Ozwell left, Dr. Hensely patted the examination table with a warm smile. “Okay, buddy. Just one shot and you’re good to go! I’m sure you’re ready to get out of here. We have a nice room and meal ready for you.”

Albert didn’t move. It came rushing back to him. The shot wasn’t an immunization of any sort. It was to put him to sleep. Then he wouldn’t remember when he awoke.

They’ve done this to me before…multiple times. He couldn’t recall how many. It was all too fuzzy. His head pounded.

Albert shook his head. “No.”

Dr. Hensely was surprised by his answer, putting his clipboard down and rubbing the back of his head. “Oh come now, Albert. Surely a strong, brave young man such as yourself isn’t afraid of a little immunity boost?”

“Liar,” Albert hissed. “It's anesthesia. You want to knock me out and make it so I don’t remember.”

“W-What? No! That’s absurd! I’m only here to help you.”

The boy refused to move, glaring at the doctor.

Dr. Hensely sighed. “Look boy, you’re doing this whether you want to or not. It’s out of your control. Either you come over here willingly or I have thirty employees outside this room that will hold you down. You wouldn't want another blackeye, would you? So which one is it?”

Albert kept his challenging gaze, one fist balled, his chest a tight knot. No choice. No control. They controlled him. They did own him.

Never breaking eye contact, Albert slowly approached the doctor and sat on the examination table. Dr. Hensely, tense and agitated, let out a deep breath and picked up the syringe.

“Get used to the fact that you will never be in control, kid. That’s how it is here. I’m sorry.”

You will be sorry…

He had to remember. No matter what. He couldn’t let them do this to him…again.

Dr. Hensely leaned in and injected Albert’s arm with the drug. The boy winced, glaring at the doctor in growing hatred…until he snatched up a scalpel on the nearby tool tray, and stabbed it into Hensley’s jugular vein.

Blood sprayed all over Albert just as the world started to spin. Dr. Hensely crashed backwards onto the floor with an agonized cry, gripping his throat.

Just before the world went black, Dr. Hensely bled out all over the floor in front of him. He heard the gurgled curses, felt the warm blood that drenched him, tasted it in his mouth. None of those things compared to the satisfying rush of power and victory he felt in that moment. He had overthrown a ruler. He could conquer them. He would conquer them all.

He should’ve done it to his father, but it was a start. They would not be able to suppress his awakening forever. One day the blinders would be removed and he would remember…and then everyone would be sorry.

The blue eyes, astute and austere, burned into his very soul, seemingly reading his deepest, darkest thoughts. The smile, proud and valiant, hid depravity within an invisible mask of dignity and power.

He couldn’t understand this feeling of being revolted by this man, yet, concurrently, being drawn to him.

“Albert?”

Albert looked away from the eerie oil painting of Lord Ozwell E. Spencer, not realizing he had lost himself in thought under the sharp gaze. He glanced up at Dr. James Marcus…his new guardian. The man was in his fifties with graying brown hair and wore a brown suit. Composed and shrewd, he was a bit harder to read compared to most adults for Albert. He still didn’t know what to think about his new guardian, but for better or for worse, the boy was stuck with him. For now.

It had been a long week. His father had dropped him off here in the States to live with Dr. Marcus, although he couldn’t remember much of the trip or the days after. Has jet lag affected me this acutely before? James had briefly shown him around the large mansion that belonged to Ozwell, before proceeding to the Umbrella Executive Training School. Apparently, James resided here in his laboratory, with his own living quarters, which is where Albert would mostly be staying. Soon, he would be attending the school as well.

James approached Albert when he didn’t move, he himself looking upon the portrait.

“My dear old friend,” James said with a wry smile. “He’s done so much for me…he will do a lot for you as well, Albert. Just remember he is the same as the Snake in the Garden of Eden. Watch his tongue…and certainly watch his bite.”

Albert wasn’t religious by any means, but he knew the stories. “You attribute your friend to the Devil?”

James smirked down at him, delighted. “Better to acknowledge you’re friends with the Devil than to deny it. Come along. There’s someone you need to meet.”

Albert hesitated, his eyes lowering to the floor. His polished shoes matched the equally polished floors of the school. His head hurt so bad. He tried to remember what happened before coming here, but it was all a haze. He recalled his father on the plane. He had said something to him before leaving. He just couldn’t remember what. Ozwell had told him his accommodations were temporary before handing him over to James, but this didn’t feel temporary.

“My father isn’t coming back for me…is he?”

James paused, frowning. He considered his next words. “No. He got what he wanted out of you. And in time, so will Ozwell and myself. But no worries, my boy. You are where you are meant to be. Trust me. In time, you will make them all pay. I’ll show you how.”

What an interesting response from an adult. Albert then followed him closer than he had on the whole tour. James led them to his living quarters nestled adjacent to the laboratory of the training school. It was a nice-sized apartment, modern and clean…a little more room than what Albert and his father were accustomed to.

“William, come out here,” James called. “There’s someone here you need to meet.”

Albert looked around the living room. Spacious. Hardwood floors. Brand new furniture. Paintings and photos adorning the walls. It hardly looked lived in. There was a wall dedicated to a trip to Africa and James’ doctorates. He settled on an intriguing photograph full of beautiful red and gold flowers with peculiar shaped petals, nothing like he had ever seen before.

Soft footsteps rushed into the living room. When Albert turned around, he was surprised to see another boy, having expected William to be an adult. The boy was smaller than him, maybe a year or two younger, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, just like him.

William looked just as surprised to see Albert as he was to see him, but the shock quickly turned into a big, toothy grin and he nearly hopped over to Albert in excitement.

“No way! You got me a brother?!”

“William, settle down. I don’t care what you call yourselves. Just get along. William this is Albert, Albert this is William. You’ll be roommates so get used to each other. I have to make a phone call.”

He was never informed there would be someone else while living with James, let alone someone his age.

Albert tensed and moved away when William eased closer with hushed excitement, especially now since it was only them. Albert had never mingled with other kids before and was unsure of the formalities.

“Nice to meet you, Albert! Can I call you Bert? Oooh, how about Al? I like Al!”

“No. Just Albert,” he grumpily answered, already irritated with the other boy’s whimsical behavior.

“I like your accent Al, are you not from the U.S.? You’ll like it here. James is alright, I guess, but the school is amazing! I’m the youngest child prodigy to be studying under Umbrella!”

This boy was a child prodigy as well? Albert looked him over skeptically. He decided to move away, giving into instinct instead of attempting conversation. He had no clue how to handle this interaction.

William followed, his excitement waning only slightly, instead a mild diffidence forming. “So uh, where are you from?”

“Not here.”

“What happened to your family?”

Albert clenched his jaw. “None of your business.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” William reassured. “I’m an orphan too. It’s why I’m with James. Been here for about a year. I never knew my parents.”

When Albert didn’t answer, William gasped and ran around to block his path.

“Wait a minute! Are you a prodigy too? No wonder James took you in! Oh, this is exciting! Finally, some competition! We could test each other’s limits and push ourselves further! Granted, that’s likely why they put us together to begin with, but just think of all the fun it will be. I mean, I’ll probably win, but it’s-”

Albert punched William hard in the nose. Partly to make him shut up…mostly to establish dominance.

The younger boy yelped, his nose busted, blood pouring out of his nostrils. He cupped his face, staring at Albert in shock as his eyes watered from the sting. “Ow!”

“Well, I just tested the limits of your face, and I must say…you need some work,” Albert sneered.

“What the hell is going on here?!” came James’ angered voice as he rushed into the room, practically yanking the two boys apart.

“I’m fine!” William blurted through his fingers.

Their new guardian sighed, shaking his head. “Why did I agree to this?” He headed for the door, snapping his fingers at William. “Come along, both of you. William, we need to do an x-ray.”

“Oh, it’s definitely broken,” William stated calmly and obediently followed after James.

“Albert, come,” James ordered in the doorway, glaring back at him.

“He brought it on himself,” Albert grumbled, and begrudgingly followed.

“Did not!”

“You did so!”

“BOYS!”

A few months later…

There was a chill to the air, but Albert was numb to it, lost in thought as he waited. Continuous mumbles soon interrupted his thoughts and he glared over at his “roommate”.

William had perched himself so he was lying upside down, halfway off the examination table, his blond hair hanging from his head and brushing the tiled floor. His face was turning red from all the blood rushing to his head.

Albert sighed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m bored! Why do you have to come for tests more than I do?”

“I don’t know, and who said you had to stay behind?”

“And go with James to that old person meeting? No thanks! You’re way more fun, Al.”

“How fortunate for me.”

The lights were burning his eyes as they waited. He squeezed them shut…and tried to tune out William in the process.

Albert was still settling in with James and William. He’d excelled in the boarding school since day one, enjoying it immensely compared to the one his father had sent him to. As annoying as his little roommate was, Albert found himself minding his company less with each subsequent day. Maybe he was building a tolerance to him…or maybe William was growing on him a little, although he refused to admit it.

William started humming, his fidgeting rustling the paper on the exam table. Albert opened his eyes and glared, witnessing his roommate attempting to slide down into a handstand, using the table as a brace to keep his balance.

Albert stood and reached over, grabbing William’s leg and yanking. With a startled “Ack!”, William toppled over. “You just had to do it, didn’t you,” he groaned as he got to his feet, dusting himself off.

“My head is killing me. I’d appreciate it if you stopped being bothersome,” Albert replied, cupping his fingers over his eyes.

“Ohhhh, it’s the lights again. Hmm.” William stood there thinking hard, glaring up at the bright lights while rubbing his chin. “I know!”

He headed for the door. The locked door. The one that always contained Albert. “It’s locked.”

“Psh! That doesn’t stop the great William Birkin!”

The nine year old prodigy procured a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door…just like that. Albert jumped to his feet when the door opened. “Where did you get that?!”

William looked confused at first. “Oh. I stole it from James. No locked doors for us, buddy! Come on, I have something for you!”

William stepped out of the room without a care in the world. Albert hesitated at the threshold. The fuzzy memories, the consequences, they stifled him for a moment before William snatched his arm and yanked him forward.

“Come on, slow poke!”

Albert followed William through the hallways. He had most of it memorized now, but was still not as familiar with it as William. The adults didn’t pay them much mind, too busy with their own duties down in the executive school’s research facility. William slipped into a smaller laboratory and beckoned him to follow.

By the time Albert caught up, William had snatched something off of a researcher’s desk and shoved it into his hands. “There! Now when you’re in the room with the bright lights, they won’t bother you! And you’ll look cool in the process!”

“Sun…glasses?”

“Yeah!”

Albert sighed. “Whose even are these?”

“Who cares? They’re yours now! Trust me, he won’t miss them.” William smacked Albert’s shoulder as he headed out. “Let’s get back before they miss us though.”

Albert nodded, slowly following after him, looking the sunglasses over. They looked positively ridiculous to say the least. He wouldn’t wear them unless he absolutely had to…but…it made him recall that no one bothered to help him with his eyes in all the years he had complained about the pain.

They returned to the patient room to wait. William sat down beside him, a few feet away, as he knew Albert didn’t like anyone close to him. But he slowly and quietly inched himself closer, and then presented something else to him when Albert didn’t snap at him to move away.

It was the key that unlocked the door. “I have another copy. This key is a master key for most of the facility. I…understand. I’ve been in locked rooms my whole life, too. But um…we can help each other not be controlled so much by them, yeah?”

Albert slowly took the key, peering at it as though it was invaluable treasure. He nodded silently in reply, squeezing his fingers around the brass.

Wincing from the lights, Albert slipped on the sunglasses. They were too big for him, but they did help tremendously against the bright glare. 

William tittered next to him. “You look dashing!”

Albert snorted a suppressed laugh. And honestly, he couldn’t remember if he had ever laughed before.

March 19th 1998…

You can wait on me for once, asshole.

Wesker scowled at Claire’s text. It pertained to their established assignation tomorrow. She certainly enjoyed testing his forbearance at times. Not for the first time, he questioned his decision to gift her the PDA for maintaining contact.

His response would have to wait, however. He glanced at his watch after stepping foot into the Circular Café near Clock Tower Plaza. It was a popular bistro nestled right on the river. He soon spotted his quarry waiting for him at a booth.

The information broker, Aaron Roth, stared out onto Circular River, the water absorbing the morning hues of golds, purples, and reds. On the other side of the river, Raccoon City was a resplendent backdrop to this first act, towering, shadowy buildings in fresh dawn under a canopy of sun-tinged clouds. 

Like most prey that had advanced senses to detect prowling predators, Roth caught sight of Wesker halfway towards the booth. Guarded, the broker inched his steaming coffee closer when Wesker sat across from him.

Nothing was said at first, even after Wesker pulled off his shades and stared his emissary down. A young waitress soon arrived at their booth.

“Good morning, Captain! Your usual?”

Wesker broke off his staredown long enough to give the girl two seconds of his time, direct eye contact, an artificial smile, and one nod. “Yes, that will do.”

“On it, sir!”

Wesker leaned back, leering at Roth. “Didn’t expect to find yourself back in Raccoon City so soon?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“How was your trip?”

Roth snorted, half-rolling his eyes while sipping his coffee. “Let’s skip the bullshit smalltalk, yeah?”

“Straightforward and efficient, as always. Good. It plays in your favor to keep me happy. Now proceed.”

Roth picked up a large white envelope that had been lying next to him. He pushed it across the table to his master.

“Well, the confidential data you and Birkin blackmailed out of Bard is correct. Christine Henry does have a secret project in the works. Laboratory Six in Paris. Derived from the Nemesis Project that’s been around for nearly a decade. Evidence suggests that it is in direct competition with Sergei’s pet project, T-ALOS. That explains why she wanted all the info on it three months ago.”

Wesker opened the envelope and flipped through the documents enclosed inside. Nemesis T-Type. Yes, this was it.

“Another tyrant-based project? It seems both Umbrella USA and Umbrella Europe cannot shake their unbridled rivalry.” Wesker enclosed the stolen research safely back inside its envelope. “All the better for me, I suppose.”

Instead of answering, Roth stared behind him, his usual composure becoming strained. By the time Wesker noticed, it was too late.

“The nerve you have to meet him here.”

Wesker sighed. “Sit, William. And be nice.”

“I was hella nice to Bennett. I’m still finding pieces of him, by the way,” William growled like a feral cat, and frankly, he kind of looked like one too after three nights underground.

His partner sat beside him, but looked like he wanted to reach across the table and scratch out the eyes of their liaison.

“Will, in just the span of a few months, Aaron has compensated us far over what he stole from you years ago. Let it go.”

“But he sold it to Alexia.”

Wesker glared at him.

William sighed like an indignant teenager. “Fiiiine.”

“Here you are, sir!” came the bubbly voice of their waitress, and she sat Wesker’s coffee in front of him. She then quickly presented William with a wide smile. “Dr. Birkin, you too? Do you want your usual?”

“Nah, Al’s paying today. So get me three orders of biscuits and sausage gravy, an everything bagel with avocado, a Spanish omelet, a side order of bacon, and a large triple shot caramel latte with extra whipped cream. Oooh actually, add another shot to that because I’m beat.”

“You got it, Doctor! I’ll get that out to you pronto.”

Wesker glared at William after the waitress bounded away, although Roth was left looking a little confused. 

“What?” Will asked. “I’m hungry. Plus, I have a family to feed. You just keep drinking your sad black coffee, my friend. It will never be as black as your soul.”

“Actually, I am drinking a macchiato.”

“Aw, look at you giving yourself a little light. I knew Claire would be good for you!”

“Wait. Claire Redfield is still alive?” Roth asked.

Both Wesker and William broke off their repartee to glare at the info broker at the same time. He had unceremoniously readjusted their focus. Roth quickly regretted asking, as Wesker’s glare alone could kill.

“Why do you care, Aaron?” Will asked.

The information broker, calm and sly, lightly shrugged, feigning skepticism. “I just figured she’d long served her purpose by now.”

Such a clever rat.

Wesker scratched the top of his hand, an unspoken, discreet message to William. “What else do you have for us? Good news, I hope?”

Roth slowly nodded after swallowing. “Yes…She has agreed to meet you both. Unfortunately, the arrangements are a little tight because of her schedule. In two weeks. It’s the only time I could secure from her. But if you’re wanting to get info on her secret project and any of her other dirty little secrets, I suggest you take advantage post haste. I’ve already spoken with Alex and she has Daniel on board to help.”

“Two weeks?! There’s no way!” William grumbled. “You couldn’t make it in a month or so?”

The broker shook his head. “Dr. Henry is of noble blood. Very proud. Very secretive. Quite powerful and influential. She’s also quite fickle. She usually only gives out opportunities like this once. I highly suggest you take it while it stands, or you might lose her as an ally completely.”

“It won’t be an issue,” Wesker calmly added.

“Speak for yourself, I’m way busier than you!” Will scoffed.

“If I may,” Roth cleared his throat. “Will this not catch the attention of those above you? A UID agent and the Chief Researcher going on a trip to Paris to meet one of Umbrella Europe’s executives? Surely that will catch Spencer’s attention?”

William frowned and looked at Wesker, who didn’t even blink, but merely passed Roth a condescending smile. “I appreciate your ‘concern’, Aaron, but I already have it resolved.”

“Of course you do.” Both Roth and William said in unison, only to give each other weird looks.

“Proceed forward and tell Daniel to contact me. We’ll be there.” Wesker smirked. “It will be a pleasure to finally meet Christine Henry in person.”

Roth dipped his head and rose. “I’ll get it done.”

The info broker left without another word. William watched him depart completely from the café while Wesker took a long drink of his coffee.

“Such a good, obedient little puppy,” Will scoffed. “Until he shits in our shoes.”

Wesker smacked him with the envelope. “Stop your caviling.”

His partner took the envelope and stood just about the time their waitress returned with William’s order.

“Here’s your food all bagged up and your caramel latte with four shots of espresso! You might have a hard time sleeping tonight.” She giggled.

“Sleep? What’s that?” Will joked and winked at her. “Thanks, doll. Come on, Captain, let’s go!”

Wesker yawned and followed William out to his car. After the Chief Researcher secured his food on the back floorboard, he slid behind the wheel while Wesker waited in the passenger seat. Wesker finished his coffee while his partner took the time to go through the documents inside the envelope.

“Hmm, so after nearly a decade of impasse, it seems their ‘Nemesis Project’ has finally been redeveloped. You know, I met Henry briefly when Spencer imported one of their Nemesis Alpha parasites a decade ago. Remember that trip I made to Paris with Spencer like a week after we filled Marcus full of holes? Anyway, her father was in charge then. And since there were no BOWs at the time that could survive the parasite, I took the liberty of implanting it into Lisa. I got my beloved G-Virus out of it! I can only imagine what these new parasites could do if injected into Lisa now…But it seems they plan on implanting them into the next-generation T-103 Tyrants they want to mass produce on Sheena Island. They don’t even have the bugs worked out of the Epsilon strain or the T-002! Cart before the horse much?”

“They wish to test the T-002 on live combatants and use the data towards the final improvements for the new models. That is nothing new,” Wesker explained. “It will be machine versus organism in the coming months on which project will helm Phase Three and determine the future of the Tyrant line.”

“My money’s on this bad boy,” William replied with a child-like grin, staring at the prototype’s design in his lap. “Such intelligence! And look at that artillery!”

“Nature will always prevail,” Wesker agreed.”That is one constant in this world. T-ALOS may have a highly confidential A.I. nexus, but its advantages do not outweigh its disadvantages compared to the Nemesis Alpha parasites.”

“I do spot an error in this blueprint, though.” Will tapped the diagram. “Given how the parasite grows and attaches itself to the central nervous system and brain, I highly predict the cranial and facial tissues will have to be stapled or stretched. He won’t be this pretty.”

“What does that matter?”

“It doesn’t. I'm just pre-bragging how I’ll be right. You’ll see.”

“I will get in contact with Ada. She can come along with us and oversee Daniel.”

“Um…isn’t she on assignment in South America?”

Wesker frowned. He’d been so busy these past few weeks it had slipped his mind. He thought it over. “Alex is also unavailable. It would be in our best interest to have someone else we can trust on this trip. Unfortunately, we might just have to make do with Daniel.”

“Hey, didn’t you say Claire speaks French?”

That’s all it took for Wesker’s brain to do what it did best. Calculate, plot, scheme, orchestrate…

In that same moment, his phone dinged, and a familiar name read across the screen. Claire, sending him another text in response from earlier.

I’ll be there.

Wesker stared at the words, his lips spreading into a wide, devilish grin.

[justhereforthemeta]

The Second Coming...of Agnes Nutter?

Come with me, and you’ll be In a world of GO speculation…

This is a meta-flavored GO Season 3 speculation post. Not to sound overconfident - I’m no Agnes, and these stray thoughts are decidedly not reminiscent of Nostradamus at his best - but DO NOT TAG NEIL, please and thank you kindly.

I’m rewatching season one, and couldn’t help but notice some interesting details about the depiction of Agnes Nutter and her death in S1E2. While a common line of speculation is that Jesus’ Second Coming in S3 will somehow mirror Adam Young’s story as the Antichrist, there are enough potential parallels, mirroring, and inversions in elements of Agnes’ story that I’m now wondering if we should instead be looking to her for clues about what Season 3 will hold.

I’ll also note that, unlike many wonderful meta authors on this site, my knowledge of Christian theology is limited to what I’ve picked up culturally. That said, I beg the reader’s forgiveness in advance for any errors or mischaracterizations in the commentary below.

@aprilodite and others have written about a possible chiastic story structure at work in S2, and potentially over both S1 and S2. So as I run though these points, I’m also looking for things that might have mirrors over the course of S3.

The S1E2 ‘flashback’ to 1656 ends with Agnes’ daughter Virtue and her husband John receiving their bequest: a box (later revealed to Anathema and Newt to contain the second book of prophecy) and a book (The Nice and Accurate Prophecies themselves). Working backwards within a presumed chiastic storytelling structure, we could have already been introduced to the mirrors of these items over the course of S2. There are two candidates for the box: the first, obviously, is Jimbriel’s box, which may or may not have been heavier when he started carrying it than when it arrived at the bookshop containing nothing but a fly. The other candidate might be Aziraphale’s briefcase, contents unknown, which he appears to leave behind to Edinburgh in S2E3. And of course, S2 introduces us to the Book of Life, which seems to contain information pertaining to the past (possibly names, or memories, or events relating to beings’ having never existed), mirroring Agnes’ book of obscure knowledge about the future.

Agnes is accused of witchcraft partly as a consequence of helping her neighbors (curing their poxes, dispensing health advice, and so forth). Watching the crucifixion in S1E3, Crowley notes that execution is a characteristically human reaction to Jesus’ injunction: “Be kind to each other.”

Like the Biblical Jesus, Agnes knows about her death in advance and goes to meet it willingly. In doing so:

She brings death-by-explosion-and-roofing-nails to those around her (inverting a promise of eternal life).

She uses her execution as a teachable moment: “And let my death be a message to the world. Come. Come, gather thee close I say, and mark ye well the fate of those who meddle with such as they do not understand.” Her words can be read as: in killing me, you meddle with the ineffable, and in so doing you doom yourselves. This could be a potential mirror to, or inversion of, something a returned Jesus might say in S3: you (humanity) killed me, thus meddling with the ineffable (or doing what She had planned all along?), but you have been forgiven.

[eyesneverliechico]

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