#as they’re often perceived as bad omens!
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i made up my mind to give orivyn a pet raven — a hatchling he originally thought was a crow ( cause the baby rolled a nat20 in deception/j ), and i think it would be funny if it just cursed at people. since corvids can mimic human speech, she probably picked it up from orivyn himself, or companions. which is funny, since he appears quite modest and rarely curses. around others, at least
he’ll be attempting to give instructions, or directions, etc etc, and his raven will just curse at the individual he’s speaking to like “what the fuck”, while vyn gets all flustered. great stuff imo
#kriin talks#oc: orivyn arethren#skyrim oc#another little tidbit in the tags: congrats if you pick up on this#i’ve always had this concept that from a stranger or rumor perspective that the sight of white eyes in the dark is a bad omen#or just… glowing eyes in general. creepy shit.#as vyn has unusual eyes due to magical scarring#a raven only adds to that in symbolism#as they’re often perceived as bad omens!#which i quite like#and it contrasts fairly well to his actual demeanour
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Advice to Work on Yourself 🛁 in February 2023: Virgo
4 Pentacles - The World - Strength
Regarding: King of Wands
Everyone is pulling King of Wands this month, it’s a running theme. Your advice is to heal from a relationship with this person, assuming they’re a Leo or a fire sign. If not, they embody this grand, charismatic, social and inspiring sort of popular (often attractive) type of personality that wins fans just by being themselves, a big personality. They could be a family member, someone at work, an ex partner even, but it’s a connection that’s deeply affected you and needs healing - in yourself. You’ve held back a lot of angst from this person, they may not even know where your head has been at. You’ve been overcoming stress, anxiety, worries, genuine upset, heartbreak even with that charm here, but you say nothing. Or it comes off in a possessive & protective way, a tough front covering a vulnerable heart. You may not even be speaking to each other, and these are the sorts of emotions you’ve felt since you last spoke. It’s possible this person has moved on to a whole new family, lover, situation in life, and it leaves you feeling…heartbroken. Bitter. Probably with good reason.
Your response has been to refrain from talking to this person. No apologies from either side. No how are yous. No rushing in with communication about this that or the other. Though you’re tempted. The reading implies that you should be reaching out to this person, bond over foods, solo trips, and butterfly all indicate something has changed. Or maybe that you just need to see that for yourself somehow, especially if this is more family related. They’ve changed. Doesn’t say if that’s good or bad, just that they’re different.
Animal Oracle: Walrus 🦭
“Remain vigilant about the current situation; pay attention to signs and omens, and let them dictate your choices.”
Signs and omens show up in myriad ways, from the wind’s rustle of the trees that make it seem as if they’re whispering to you at a barely audible level, to the rainbow that appears just before an event in which you’re participating. When you’re pondering any kind of question about your life purpose, relationships, career, or even everyday concerns such as whether to actually take the vacation that you’d been planning, you can ask Spirit to give you clear and specific signs. Then watch, listen, feel, and allow thoughts to flow. While you may not always get absolutely clear responses, more often than not you’ll pick up on signs or flies through your eyes, ears, sensations in your body, or thoughts that seem to come out of the blue. You may even have remarkably lucid dreams that you can easily recall in the morning.
Look for the unusual and repetitious. For example, if you hear someone at the supermarket talking about Phoenix (auditory); spot a billboard advertisement with the word Phoenix prominently displayed (visual); and then recall a period of time when you lived in that city, feeling a calmness and joy (sensations) when you bring up that memory (cognitive), these are all clues. It could be about the city of Phoenix, Arizona. Or it could be a subtle way that the spirit guide is offering you their help when you’re ending one cycle completely and beginning another, like the metaphor of the Phoenix rising from the ashes. Omens are perceived in the four ways mentioned. Journal about anything you find significant, and look for repetition. When you see an animal showing up repeatedly, Spirit is with you. Trust the signs and your discernment of them, they’re a personal and significant way Spirit helps guide you along your path. Your Spirit knows how to get *your* attention 🙏
Artist Oracle: J.M.W. TURNER
- Find the facts in a feeling.
- Nature does not sit still.
- The sun will rise whether or not you are there to watch it.
Advice:
- Bond Over Food
- Take a Solo Travel Trip
Charms:
Butterfly 🦋 on King of Wands show a complete transformation of someone you probably knew as an important figure in your life. Family, friend, career, a lover, it could apply to any of them. Someone is very happy, and you’re unhappy about that. Whether it’s less time with you, or if it’s an ex that’s obvious, a favorite coworker, what have you. It seems like this was the best thing that could have happened to them. The World shows this as an ending that was meant to be, it’s not some random thing, this person is following their soul path. But that doesn’t mean you can’t talk? Depending on the circumstances involved. Walrus indicates some can, some can’t.
Broken Heart 💔 and Treble Clef 🎼 on JMW are probably heartbreaking songs as the most obvious translation. You have to feel what you’re feeling and music is the best way to do that, especially if there is no way or point in communicating with this person, or that’s how some of you feel. The feelings are still there. Grief is just love with no place to go, that’s a beautiful quote from someone…idk who, but it applies with this reading. Take care of your heart ❤️🩹
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Group Manifesto
HOROSCOPES
Horoscopes are astrological forecasts based on the positions of celestial bodies at a particular time, typically tailored to each zodiac sign. They're thought to offer insights or predictions about an individual's personality traits, relationships, and also future events.
Horoscopes can help people with motivation and give them something to look forward to. Some people will use the predictions to plan out their day and lean towards more positive thoughts and actions. Horoscopes can be very general and cover a large area, so many people find them relatable. However, people using these horoscopes as guides for their day can have a negative impact, and they might use the predictions to excuse their negative behavior and actions, giving them something else to put the blame on. And this may be why people believe in it, it gives them a sense of control, someone who believes in an external force of control will credit outside forces for both the good and the bad.
The sensation of destiny's touch often comes from stories where paths intertwine, seemingly guided by fate or coincidence. Themes of serendipity, unexpected connections, and the impact of choices can evoke that sense of destiny's touch. Crafting narratives that explore these elements can captivate readers' imaginations and create that feeling of destiny.
Is there any truth behind horoscopes? They’re often seen as more of a fun, general interpretation rather than a precise predictor of events; however there are also those who truly put their faith into these predictions; it gives them a feeling that it is a gift from a higher power. What they don't understand is that there is no control over their own fate or journey because the information has already been written on paper from writers and authors on what they believe is right for our signs.
The history of horoscopes span many millennia and cultures, dating back to ancient times. The concept of horoscopes originated from the celestial body's movements and their perceived influence on human affairs. The word "horoscope" derives from the Greek words "hora" (time) and "skopos" (observer), meaning a tool to observe time.
One of the earliest civilizations known for its astrological advancements is Mesopotamia, where the Babylonians developed the foundation of modern astrology around 2000 BC. They tracked celestial movements, believing that the positions of stars and planets could foretell events on Earth. The Babylonians created intricate astrological calendars and studied the zodiac, dividing the sky into twelve equal parts, each associated with a specific constellation. The Greeks further refined astrology, integrating it into their culture around the 4th century BC.
Influential figures like Ptolemy and Hipparchus contributed significantly to the development of astrological concepts, detailing the characteristics of each zodiac signs, Greek philosophers pondered the connection between celestial movements and human destinies, laying the groundwork for future astrological principles. The spread of astrology continued through the Roman Empire, where it merged with various belief systems. The Romans embraced astrology, incorporating it into their daily lives and using it to make critical decisions. Influential figures sought guidance from astrologers, believing that interpreting celestial omens could predict the outcomes of battles and the fates of rulers.
Horoscopes continued from these time periods and despite periods of skepticism and criticism, astrology persisted and evolved. The 19th and 20th centuries saw a revival of interest in astrology, spurred by movements emphasizing spirituality and self-discovery. Horoscopes gained popularity in newspapers and magazines, reaching a broader audience and becoming a part of popular culture. Today, horoscopes remain prevalent across various media platforms, offering personalized insights based on one's zodiac sign. While astrology's scientific validity is still debated, its enduring presence underscores humanity's enduring fascination with seeking meaning and guidance from the stars.
In the end horoscopes promise personal guidance but give relatively vague predictions. They’re based on old beliefs about stars shaping destinies, without any real proof. When horoscopes became a way to make money,(which has become extremely popular in the last few years) it spread these misleading ideas more. And truly relying on horoscopes distracts you from thinking
for yourself, simplifying life in a way that’s not true. Making you live a life that is not yours and written by someone who’s just trying to make money.
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Contextual Studies
Horoscopes
As a group we had the initial idea to base our essay around astronomy and astrology. We looked at different areas within this topic and decided to narrow it down to horoscopes. I decided to look into peoples opinions on horoscopes and how they can effect their daily lives, explores in the paragraph after the introduction.
Horoscopes are astrological forecasts based on the positions of celestial bodies at a particular time, typically tailored to each zodiac sign. They're thought to offer insights or predictions about an individual's personality traits, relationships, and also future events.
Horoscopes can help people with motivation and give them something to look forward to. Some people will use the predictions to plan out their day and lean towards more positive thoughts and actions. Horoscopes can be very general and cover a large area, so many people find them relatable. However, people using these horoscopes as guides for their day can have a negative impact, and they might use the predictions to excuse their negative behavior and actions, giving them something else to put the blame on. And this may be why people believe in it, it gives them a sense of control, someone who believes in an external force of control will credit outside forces for both the good and the bad.
The sensation of destiny's touch often comes from stories where paths intertwine, seemingly guided by fate or coincidence. Themes of serendipity, unexpected connections, and the impact of choices can evoke that sense of destiny's touch. Crafting narratives that explore these elements can captivate readers' imaginations and create that feeling of destiny.
Is there any truth behind horoscopes? They’re often seen as more of a fun, general interpretation rather than a precise predictor of events; however there are also those who truly put their faith into these predictions; it gives them a feeling that it is a gift from a higher power. What they don't understand is that there is no control over their own fate or journey because the information has already been written on paper from writers and authors on what they believe is right for our signs.
The history of horoscopes span many millennia and cultures, dating back to ancient times. The concept of horoscopes originated from the celestial body's movements and their perceived influence on human affairs. The word "horoscope" derives from the Greek words "hora" (time) and "skopos" (observer), meaning a tool to observe time.
One of the earliest civilizations known for its astrological advancements is Mesopotamia, where the Babylonians developed the foundation of modern astrology around 2000 BC. They tracked celestial movements, believing that the positions of stars and planets could foretell events on Earth. The Babylonians created intricate astrological calendars and studied the zodiac, dividing the sky into twelve equal parts, each associated with a specific constellation. The Greeks further refined astrology, integrating it into their culture around the 4th century BC.
Influential figures like Ptolemy and Hipparchus contributed significantly to the development of astrological concepts, detailing the characteristics of each zodiac signs, Greek philosophers pondered the connection between celestial movements and human destinies, laying the groundwork for future astrological principles. The spread of astrology continued through the Roman Empire, where it merged with various belief systems. The Romans embraced astrology, incorporating it into their daily lives and using it to make critical decisions. Influential figures sought guidance from astrologers, believing that interpreting celestial omens could predict the outcomes of battles and the fates of rulers.
Horoscopes continued from these time periods and despite periods of skepticism and criticism, astrology persisted and evolved. The 19th and 20th centuries saw a revival of interest in astrology, spurred by movements emphasizing spirituality and self-discovery. Horoscopes gained popularity in newspapers and magazines, reaching a broader audience and becoming a part of popular culture. Today, horoscopes remain prevalent across various media platforms, offering personalized insights based on one's zodiac sign. While astrology's scientific validity is still debated, its enduring presence underscores humanity's enduring fascination with seeking meaning and guidance from the stars.
In the end horoscopes promise personal guidance but give relatively vague predictions. They’re based on old beliefs about stars shaping destinies, without any real proof. When horoscopes became a way to make money,(which has become extremely popular in the last few years) it spread these misleading ideas more. And truly relying on horoscopes distracts you from thinking
for yourself, simplifying life in a way that’s not true. Making you live a life that is not yours and written by someone who’s just trying to make money.
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here is a delightfully trashy fic idea
ed note: i just found this in my drafts from like..... close to two years ago? anyway it seems a shame to delete it. I have no memory of this and wonder where that draft went.
I published this instead, which is fine but has almost nothing in common with this idea, LOL.
(for Good Omens) I brainstormed this wonderfully filthy wallowy id-tastic fic and even semi-outlined it and then I tried to write it and I’ve got literally 5,000 words with three scene-cuts and zero smut and have wildly deviated from the idea, so I’m just going to release this summary free to a good home so I don’t feel like I have to try to wrestle whatever the fuck I’m writing back on course. It’s not going, it won’t do it. Someone else can write it, if they want, and please do and tell me when you do because I want to read it, but I absolutely am not equal to the task of writing it.
It’s wonderfully angst-filled smut with mutual pining, which is like, my catnip, and it’s nice and dirty, which I also like, and yet somehow, I just can’t do it.
(Seriously, it’s been a thousand years and Aziraphale is meditating on free will. For fuck’s sake.)
So here’s the premise. I got as far as literally the first paragraph here, and then the whole thing went off the rails, so. Mine’s something else now.
Pretty early on in their acquaintance, pre-Arrangement, Aziraphale stumbles across Crowley in a bad neighborhood among prostitutes, who have recently invented their trade. Aziraphale is righteously offended by the concept, and Crowley defends it, and Aziraphale assumes Crowley invented it for the humans, and of course he did not.
At any rate, in the course of their discussion (during which Crowley is wile-y [though there’s some great potential for an unreliable narrator here, where the angel is perceiving the demon as being far more seductive than he is actually trying to be, because he is attracted to him and doesn’t understand that] and Aziraphale is righteously but confusedly Into It despite himself), Crowley winds up giving him a demonstration of just what it is that’s so great and why humans would choose this sort of thing of their own free will rather than being demonically wiled into it.
There’s a humorous instant where they’re both suddenly terrified that angelic emissions might have a holy-water-like effect, but they don’t, and after that moment’s terrified pause during which Crowley doesn’t dissolve and Aziraphale doesn’t get Smitten By Divine Wrath, Crowley dusts off his knees and Aziraphale puts his bits away and they go their separate ways in a sort of mutual well-that-got-out-of-hand embarrassment, each intending never to speak of it again.
Which lasts a while, but not really. Sure, most of their meetings can stay respectable, but every so often, Aziraphale just happens on Crowley in an alley looking shady or whatever, and they wind up repeating it, and Aziraphale tells himself he’s just diverting the demon so he doesn’t tempt any humans, and has zero clue that Crowley is only doing this for him, isn’t actually using his body to tempt humans at all, only shows up in those places because he knows Aziraphale’s going there looking for him in that moment.
Potential here for a wonderfully sleazy dynamic, of Crowley always passively receiving, taking whatever Aziraphale will give, very clearly not seeking his own sexual gratification at all in this, and Aziraphale never really contemplating just what it is that Crowley’s after instead. (Except maybe in his darker hours thinking the demon is trying to seduce him to Fall, or something, and being a real self-righteous dick about it sometimes.) Maybe, eventually, at some point, Crowley lets it slip that what he gets out of this is that when Aziraphale fucks him he can feel divine Grace again, or something like it, and it gratifies him on an entirely different level than the physical. Maybe he says so and Aziraphale doesn’t understand it, or refuses to really contemplate it.
Or maybe Aziraphale does get it, and then he’s even worse; instead of being self-righteous about Crowley trying to tempt him, he’s kind of horribly pitying about it, and it’s gross, and Crowley attempts to quit but can’t actually make it stick and before he knows it he’s lurking in the back rooms of clubs again when he knows Aziraphale’s just wandered in the front door. (Potential here for wonderfully juicy angsty sleazy scene of Crowley getting absolutely railed in a pub toilet by a complete stranger he’s trying to pretend is Aziraphale, and then slinking in a desperate haze of lust on his knees to the angel begging for the sacrament only Aziraphale can really give him.) (Right? Right? Argh, I wish I could write this story.) (What I’ve got so far is all strict close Az POV and it’s almost better because you’d only indirectly get that that’s what Crowley’s just done; A would just assume Crowley’d been off doing his demonic job instead of trying desperately to break his addiction.)
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What’s Up, Doc? would be Madeline’s feature film debut and her first collaboration with Bogdanovich. That she didn’t audition for the role, but won it instead as herself, proved an exceptionally ill omen.
Eunice was “my great good fortune, and sort of a blow to my spirit,” Madeline said in 1989. “I knew that Eunice was as far removed from my essence as she could be - as opposed to what Streisand got to do, which was to play herself. And her first role [Fanny Brice in Funny Girl (1968)] encompassed many wonderful features - comedy, singing, adorableness. So she was always perceived that way. And here I am the ugly stepsister, which was absolutely not true! So then, what do I do? Continue to be the ugly stepsister to everyone - Cybill Shepherd, Tatum O’Neal, and everyone else in the entire world?”
“Ugly” is a key word. Eunice isn’t supposed to be pretty. In the screwball paradigm, it’s the woman who chases the man, and in What’s Up, Doc? O’Neal is the object of desire. Bogdanovich and his production team heighten the contrast by making Eunice as unattractive as her fiancé is tanned and tempting. Her wig was bad enough, but her costumes gave her still zaftig figure barely any shape at all. And while the world hadn’t yet learned to apply the word “beautiful” to Streisand’s distinctive features, in the film as in life, she gets the man (O’Neal had dated Streisand just before shooting began). Now Madeline grew concerned that she really was unattractive and that people were laughing at her. Every night, she called her brother “Is this really how people see me?” she would ask, in tears. She wound up in therapy.
Funny women are often insecure about personal appearance, Martin Charnin says. “They never think they’re pretty, until they learn that part of what makes them attractive is that they’re funny.” Madeline hadn’t reached that point of understanding. What made her attractive, so far as she could see, was her best behavior, her carefully polished exterior. In her personal life, propriety (one of Eunice’s pet words) had been her first defense. Comedy was a way to make a living, and always before, she’d looked pretty when she did it. Now she looked awful, and the cast and crew - and, later, audiences - reacted uproariously.
Charlie Rose once asked Madeline whether she thought she was “naturally funny”. “I’m very smart,” she replied. “I’m very understanding. I’m serious...I always see sort of the tragedy beneath what’s funny. And that’s only important to me. Then that tells me how to make something work, or I think it’s what makes something work, beneath it all. The gravity. And I also am funny. I can see the humor.” Yet until the end of her career - on the set of Judy Berlin in 1997 - Madeline still expressed surprise when she got a laugh. As her friend David Marshall Grant observes, her quest for the “gravity” of a character enhanced her comedy, because she took ridiculous situations so seriously. But that same empathy sometimes blinded her to the reality that the character herself might be ridiculous, as Eunice is. In private, Madeline had a great sense of humor and loved to laugh, but as an actor she remained “someone who said things funny, not someone who said funny things,” as Lily Tomlin describes her.
“Why are they laughing?” Where Eunice Burns is concerned, Madeline also wondered: Are they laughing because that’s what they really think of me? Bogdanovich, who found Madeline perfectly attractive and who knew little if anything about the fathers who left when she was ugly, didn’t detect the anxiety underlying the question. He did become increasingly aware that “She didn’t like the way she looked in our pictures.” Her unhappiness would become a bigger problem for him with each successive film.
Madeline Kahn: Being The Music - A Life by William V. Madison
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Devotee Challenge
A devotee challenge for you! There are nine prompts which contain multiple questions and thoughts each. Complete them in any order you see fit, to the best of your ability. The prompts have been explained to help you think about your deity and your possible relationship outside of the disconnected worship-only sense.
This isn’t meant to be extensive nor is it meant to represent the “right” opinion to have on deity relationships. It’s simply a prompt list! Enjoy!
[ presence ]
How do you perceive your deity?
Look at a list of your deity’s titles, which could also be known as aspects, attributions, kennings, heiti, etc. Do you sense your deity as one particular aspect or multiple? Does this sense of who or what they’re representing change depending on season or time of year? If yes, is there a reason in their lore or history that explains why?
If your deity doesn’t have titles or you are unsure who your deity is, try and think about how you’ve sensed/felt their presence. Make a list of words associated with that feeling. (Example: hungry, energetic, intense, wild.) See if you can narrow down an idea about who your deity is through these words.
[ communication ]
What methods of communication are best for your deity?
I’ve provided a list of possible communication methods. Identify: 1) which work best for you personally; 2) which your deity prefers if any, and; 3) which were used historically for the deity’s pantheon or culture. How do you know if your deity prefers a method or not? Try it out!
Astral Projection
Automatic Writing
Divination
Books / Bibliomancy
Bones
Dice
Flame
Music
Runes or Ogham
Sticks
Tarot or Oracle Cards
Water
Wax dripped in water
Dreams
Omens or Signs
Prayers
Senses, such as hearing, smell, or sight
[ stereotypes ]
Is your deity often conflated or compared to another one from a different pantheon or culture?
How are they the same? How are they different? Is the comparison between these deities a contemporary thing or did it happen historically?
OR
Are there misunderstandings about your deity caused by popular culture?
If your deity fits an archetype (ex. Trickster), explain how this archetype fits or does not fit your deity (to your understanding). Try to step outside your comfort zone and think of your deity as both human-like and divine - they may have done good and bad things.
[ relationship ]
What kind of relationship do you want to have with your deity as a devotee?
A relationship between a deity and a devotee is usually defined as a working relationship, based around a power dynamic of divine being and mortal practitioner. That’s not always the the only option. Some people choose to seek out other relationship types like teacher / student, master / servant, or more intimate relationships.
Define what your current thoughts are about your relationship between your deity and yourself. Where are your boundaries? Do you want to keep it strictly platonic? Do you want to worship your deity or act more as a companion?
[ everyday ]
How does your relationship with your deity affect your everyday life?
Do you have a devoted schedule or structure for your relationship with your deity? Or are you more impromptu? Do you want to include your deity in your daily life, or would you rather interact with them at a slower pace?
If you only use an altar or formal practices to interact with your deity, have you considered their interests? Are there little daily human activities you can invite them to spend time with you during, such as watching tv or doing chores?
[ interests ]
What are your deity’s interests outside of any lore / canon associations?
A lot of deities have information associated with them. Maybe they’re a Patron of the Arts; maybe they’re known to do archery. But do they have any mundane human things they’re interested in? Try to steer away from the obvious and find things you like to do that you can share with your deity.
[ formalities ]
Do you want to incorporate historical or traditional methods of worship into your relationship with your deity?
Basically, are you interested in elements of reconstructionism or are you a little more eclectic? List possible worship methods or offerings from both tradition / history and modern paganism. Does your deity favor any in particular? If possible, is there something you can go out of your way to do in order to please your deity?
[ stories ]
Is your deity proud or remorseful about stories from their lore / history?
If possible, find out more about the story or research other entities mentioned. Some deities don’t like to interact at such a human level with their devotees, whereas others do. Alternatively, find out stories of your deity or their culture and give your feelings about one of them.
[ expectations ]
What does your deity expect from your relationship?
Some devotees end up making oaths or vows to their deity, sometimes very early on in their relationships. Look up what your deity’s culture considers appropriate for an oath or a vow; Compare it to what you think an oath or a vow means. Does it extend past your current lifetime or is it fixed to this life? Ask your deity what they want from your relationship, if they expect you to be solely devoted to them (and them alone) or if other deities can be included. Are you willing to deal with jealousy?
[ timeline ]
How will you move forward with your deity?
Some deities consider relationships forever; some are more willing to be fluid. Do you have a plan to evaluate (and reevaluate) your relationship with your deity? Is this deity going to be your sole deity? Are you allowed to interact or have an active relationship with another deity?
Think about what to do if this relationship doesn’t work out. Is your deity willing to allow you to “let go” or change the terms of the relationship? What would that mean for you, the devotee? Make notes for a timeline to talk to your deity about all this. You don’t need to record the exact timeline and details here, but make some notes on what you think you should be concerned / interested in discussing.
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Okay so this is going to be part Good Omens meta, part head canon, all ramble, but I promise I have a point. Well, technically it’s a question, but I am going somewhere with this; there’s just going to be a lot of pit stops and detours along the way.
We’re starting with Crowley. I know Aziraphale’s the soft one, but Crowley’s pretty soft for a demon. He’s not a total cuddly marshmallow like I see him portrayed as sometimes – he does seem to genuinely enjoy the “annoying people” parts of his job. Though even then he doesn’t seem to enjoy the annoyance for its own sake as much as the fact that it represents he has been successful; what he really seems to enjoy is the cleverness and artistry of it – the way he describes knocking out the telephone systems in the book is like a beautiful symphony of irritation. (Actually it’s weird to me that Hastur and Ligur’s method of chipping away at one soul at a time for years is called craftmanship while Crowley’s method is presented as a matter of efficiency. Like H&L are over here making artisanal meals with only the finest ingredients while Crowley is slinging out fast food burgers. Because to me Crowley’s method seems the one that takes more consideration and skill and is, taken for what it is, a thing of beauty, whereas H&L thing just seems like blunt-force trauma. I’m sorry you sat on this guy’s shoulder whispering in his ear for ten years in order to win his soul over? Unless he’s literally Job or Jesus Christ, I’m not impressed.) Crowley isn’t a total marshmallow, but he is soft. He’s not cruel or sadistic and he doesn’t like seeing people get genuinely hurt or killed. Now when other demons are sadistic, he doesn’t like it, but he seems to largely accept it as the way things are. When Heaven does terrible things, he seems kind of disgusted but not terribly surprised. But when it’s the humans or God doing terrible things, that’s what hits him hard. For slightly different reasons in each case, but ultimately it boils down to “I thought you were better than this,” and he cannot emotionally handle it when they prove they aren’t.
Moving on to Aziraphale (I promise we’ll come back to our soft demon boi in a minute). There’s a lot of different takes out there about how book Aziraphale differs from show Aziraphale, but the most compelling one I’ve ever seen argues that it’s not so much that Aziraphale is inherently different as it is Heaven is different in the two versions, which in turn impacts how Aziraphale behaves. In the book Heaven shows up on three occasions: when Aziraphale calls Heaven and speaks with the Metatron, when Aziraphale accidentally gets himself beamed up to Heaven (which could be considered a continuation of the same event), and at the airbase to try to restart the Apocalypse. In all of these cases either Aziraphale reached out to Heaven first or his presence was incidental to Heaven showing up. The general implication is that no one is checking in on him really; he has his own personal loyalty and sense of duty to Heaven urging him to do what they expect of him, but unless he’s really blatant about it, no one’s going to know if he breaks the rules here and there. Book Aziraphale’s life is basically one long “who you are in the dark” test, with the plot twist at the end where he flicks on the lights switch and flips everyone off while he does the thing he wasn’t supposed to because it turns out that was the right thing to do all along.
By contrast in the show Heaven is showing up all the time. Aziraphale is dragged up there multiple times for reports, archangels are constantly popping down to Earth to talk with him, and they actually proactively uncover Aziraphale’s involvement with Crowley. Granted, we can assume this is a higher than normal rate of involvement because of the fast-approaching Apocalypse, but the point remains that show Aziraphale is dealing with a lot more oversight. If he breaks the rules, there is a good chance he will be caught, and even if he just does something perfectly allowed but considered to be unbefitting an angel, he will be met with scorn and disapproval. That’s why show Aziraphale is more anxious, less likely to break any rules, and more cautious if he does so.
An extension of this difference in how Heaven behaves that I haven’t seen mentioned before, is it impacts how Aziraphale perceives Hell to be. Aziraphale doesn’t have any real firsthand experience of Hell, so he has to make inferences as far as what they’re like to work for. His main two sources of information are going to be what Heaven tells him – likely to be sparse and often inaccurate – and what Crowley tells him – honestly also likely to be sparse and often inaccurate. Obviously, Crowley knows what working for Hell is like, and there are probably some areas that he’s willing to be fairly open and straight-forward about. But when it comes to things like punishments for failure or disobedience, Crowley’s going to spend most of the time evading and downplaying with occasional bits of shocking honesty to make a point and blatant overexaggerations for dramatic effect. With limited information to go on, Aziraphale is forced to use what Heaven’s like and extrapolate from there. And since the book and show versions have two such different starting points, even if book Aziraphale concludes Hell is more overbearing than book Heaven and show Aziraphale concludes Hell is less thorough on following up than show Heaven, they are still going to come to very different conclusions as to how present and aware of what Crowley is up to Hell is. Which is relevant because not only is show Aziraphale dealing with a Heaven that is more like to catch misbehavior, he also perceives Hell as being more aware and therefore Crowley more likely to be caught and punished than book Aziraphale does.
Circling back to Crowley and his emotional upset at the cruelties of the world. The reason we had to talk about Aziraphale is because how he behaves has an impact on how Crowley copes. Now with the book we don’t have our “a love 6000 years in the making” backstory, and Crowley and Aziraphale are just generally less prominent than they are in the show, which means we have less to go on. The only real reference we get is Crowley’s reaction to the Spanish Inquisition. He gets a commendation for it without having done anything, goes to take a look, and then gets drunk for a week. This would imply that drinking is how he handles these sorts of things, but I don’t think we’re getting the full story here. I say think because this is the most head canon-y part of all this; I don’t have any real evidence other than if you assume this is true then it does explain some things I’ll get to in a minute. The book tells us that after looking in on the Inquisition Crowley “had come back and got drunk for a week.” But back to where? The implication is back to the cantinas in the nicer parts of Spain where he had been before going for his look, but I think he went back to Aziraphale (who may very well have already been in the cantinas with him anyway). Because honestly, an actual literal demon with actual literal snake eyes getting shitfaced drunk in the middle of the Spanish Inquisition, knowing full well he’ll melt into a puddle of goo and die if anyone even sprinkles any holy water on him, is pretty fucking stupid. But if that demon had an actual literal angel watching over him… Aziraphale is by nature a guardian/protector, and in the book he isn’t constantly concerned about their relationship being discovered. I think over time Crowley has learned that if he needs to fall apart or be vulnerable for a while, he can go to Aziraphale and rely on Aziraphale watching over him and supporting him until he’s ready to pull himself back together again.
Show Aziraphale does not have the same freedom as his book counterpart, and so cannot always reliably be there for Crowley in the same way. Which is not a dig on Aziraphale at all; he’s in a different situation where he has to be focused on keeping them safe from their superiors, so he simply does not have the additional emotional capacity sometimes, and that’s not his fault. Despite that, Crowley does still get the emotional support he needs from Aziraphale, it just has to function in a different way.
Our episode 3 cold open lets us watch this develop quite well. Our first two scenes (aside from the one with God asking about the sword, obviously) are Noah’s Ark and the crucifixion, where we see Crowley approach Aziraphale to essentially needle him about what’s going on. At this point Aziraphale isn’t so much support as someone he can redirect his anger toward – I assume this is how Book Omens started too, and we’ll get to the divergence in a second. Crowley is willing to drop the anger with Aziraphale much faster in the crucifixion scene, suggesting they have grown closer over the intervening 3000 years, and Crowley no longer finds as much emotional catharsis in being angry at Aziraphale, but he continues to approach Aziraphale that way out of habit.
Then we get to Rome, where Crowley has, according to the script book, come to town to tempt Caligula only to be shocked and upset when he learns how very much Caligula doesn’t need tempting. Crowley goes to a bar where Aziraphale happens to be – whether he knew Aziraphale was there or not before he arrived is irrelevant, but I am assuming he was aware of Aziraphale’s presence by the time he walked in the door. And here is where book and show diverge. Because Crowley has approached Aziraphale about things he’s been upset about in the past, but it’s one thing to needle an angel about things Heaven is responsible for; it’s quite another to walk up to your crush and just start complaining about some jerk who’s put you in a bad mood. Book Crowley, who has been dealing with a slightly more relaxed Aziraphale, says fuck it, goes and sits down across from him and says, “You would not believe the day I’ve had.” And from there we develop into the dynamic mentioned previously for Book Omens.
As mentioned, show Aziraphale is more anxious about their relationship, resulting in show Crowley falling on the other side of this choice and not approaching Aziraphale. This leaves it to Aziraphale to approach Crowley this time. Now as much as we may tease, Aziraphale’s not actually an idiot. He can tell Crowley is upset about something, and he’s picked up on the pattern where when Crowley is upset, he likes to be able rant a bit about Heaven. Obviously Aziraphale can sometimes find those conversations uncomfortable, but he’s feeling good today, so he’s happy to engage in some banter, especially if it’ll cheer his friend up. But Crowley’s the one who usually starts the conversation, so Aziraphale wracks his brain for something he can say about the nature of good and evil and ineffability and comes up with “Still a demon, then?” Shockingly, this doesn’t work. Still he keeps the conversation going and tries again with “Oh well, let me tempt you to... Oh, no, that's, that's your job, isn't it?” This still doesn’t work the way he’s expecting it to, but they do have a very nice meal and a good conversation that’s not really about Heaven and Hell at all, after which Crowley seems to be in much better spirits. Which leads him to the conclusion that it’s not the specifics that are important, just the fact of having the conversation and giving something Crowley to distract himself with.
Skipping ahead to the Globe, two quick things to point out. This is the first time we see Crowley do his little circle of Aziraphale, proving that by this point they established the dynamic where Crowley protects Aziraphale. The second is this is also the first time Aziraphale really intentionally uses his puppy dog eyes on Crowley, meaning their acts of service dynamic is established as well. Knowing these have been established helps inform the decisions Aziraphale makes in the Bastille scene.
Bastille scene. We can assume everything about this incident is something Aziraphale has staged, from actually getting arrested to his claims that he can’t rescue himself because he was reprimanded for too many frivolous miracles. I will say I don’t think that last one is a complete fabrication; I think either that it is something that has happened, but a good while ago such that he’s not worried about it anymore, or it did just happen, but Aziraphale actually had been using an unusually large amount of miracles recently – possibly as part of getting his bookshop set up – and has since dialed it back enough that he can use one or two at the Bastille, be it to free himself or just to change his clothing, without getting in trouble. However, while I do think it was staged, I don’t think the primary propose was to indulge in Aziraphale’s damsel in distress fantasies; that was just an unexpected bonus. Aziraphale’s main objective was helping Crowley.
Aziraphale knew about the French Revolution, knew Crowley was in the area, and knew Crowley was liable to find the whole situation upsetting. His response was to put on his prettiest outfit, and get himself locked up. He’s broadcasting to Crowley, don’t worry about the humans, just focus on me, don’t think about what they’re doing, just look at the silly angel all chained over here in need of rescue. Of course this isn’t completely divorced from the current situation, but in a way that’s actually better, because it takes that situation and lowers the stakes – Aziraphale isn’t going to die, worse case scenario he’ll just get discorporated – and puts Crowley back in control of the situation – he can’t stop the Revolution, even if he’s capable he’d be risking too much trouble with Hell if he tried, but he can save Aziraphale and fly under Hell’s radar while doing it. Basically, we’ve taken the “Crowley needs a distraction” conclusion Aziraphale came to back in Rome and refined it in the intervening 1750 years.
Even Aziraphale’s suspicions that Crowley is behind the whole revolution can be seen as an extension of the indirect comfort he’s offering. He knows that Crowley is going to have to tell Hell that he is behind all this stuff that’s upsetting him, so when Aziraphale accuses him of the very same, it gives Crowley an opportunity and a safe place to assert that, no, he is not responsible. And not just to say it, but to say it and have someone believe him, that it isn’t his fault and he would never do anything really terrible like this.
This gives us the final form of how Show Omens dynamic works. Instead of offering Crowley a safe haven, Aziraphale emotionally supports Crowley by offering him opportunities to be the savior.
What’s especially interesting about this is if we take these two different dynamics, where in Book Omens Aziraphale serves as Crowley’s safe haven and in Show Omens Crowley is Aziraphale’s savior, that actually explains four of the big differences between the book and show: Crowley’s reaction to being called nice, Crowley crossing the M25 with optimism vs imagination, the whole run away with me subplot, and Crowley’s post bookshop fire reaction.
A demon being called nice is a pretty risky thing for the demon in question. As Crowley points out during his and Aziraphale’s conversation in Eden, a demon can get in a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, and I can’t imagine being accused of being nice would work out much better for him. But book Crowley is used to being vulnerable like that around Aziraphale. He still snaps at Aziraphale when he says it, because Crowley is stressed out and right now is not the time for that, but it is ultimately an established part of their relationship dynamic so it really only annoys him. By contrast, in the show a lot of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship is built around avoiding saying those things for their own safety. Given that, it’s no wonder his negative reaction would be more extreme.
There’s a whole long meta out there about how both Crowley’s are optimists, but in different ways (and if someone knows where to find it, please let me know so I can link it). Book Crowley is a more passive sort of optimism; he just generally believes that eventually things will work out for him. This is consistent with the way he handles it when he’s upset about things; he just goes to hang out with Aziraphale, lets himself be upset for a while, eventually it passes, and he’s good to go again. Whereas show Crowley has a more active sort of optimism, believing things can and will work out fine, as long as he steps up to make it happen. Again, this ties into how he deals with being upset; he goes out and does something about it. Granted, he’s not usually fixing the actual problem itself, but he’s being active related to what’s upsetting him, e.g. he can’t stop WWII, but he can go save Aziraphale from some Nazi spies. So when book Crowley drives through the M25 he has his optimism that things are going to work out as sort of a default mental state in his head, and it turns out The Secret really does work for demons so he gets through. Meanwhile show Crowley is actively applying himself to believing the car is fine, and that’s what pulls him through.
This passive/active difference also explains the addition of the “we could go off together” subplot in the show. Despite being more passive, book Crowley is not complacent; when they realize Warlock is not the antichrist, he and Aziraphale make efforts to find the real one. But when their initial search runs dry and they both agree the best thing to do is to have each of their “networks of human agents” look for the boy, Crowley is willing to step back and wait. Either one of their agents will find the kid or something else will turn up; somehow it’ll all work out. Show Crowley can’t do that. He can be optimistic that things will somehow work out, but not if he’s not doing something to fix it. Except there’s nothing else he can do to solve this problem, and when he can’t solve a problem his default is to instead save Aziraphale. The world is going to go up in flames, so Alpha Centauri it is then.
And now the one everyone loves to talk about: the bookshop fire. “Aha!” you said twenty minutes ago and then patiently waited for my rambling to get back to this point. “Aha! There is a flaw in your logic; after the bookshop fire it is book Crowley that copes by getting up and saving things, whereas show Crowley gets drunk and has an emotional breakdown.” But what you didn’t realize, gentle reader, is I already solved that problem weeks ago (this meta took a lot longer to write up than I was expecting). In fact, it’s not a problem at all, but further proof of these dynamics. Because after the bookshop fire, Aziraphale is gone. Aziraphale is gone, which means Crowley’s normal coping strategies don’t work. Book Crowley can’t have a breakdown about Aziraphale being gone precisely because Aziraphale is gone; he’s lost his safe space. So instead he just has to keep pushing forward and he’ll figure out how to deal with the rest of it later. Meanwhile show Crowley can’t save Aziraphale if Aziraphale is dead, and lacking that distraction, he has a breakdown.
Now that I’ve gone on for an obscenely long time about the different dynamics of book Crowley the protected vs. show Crowley the protector, I’m going to say that the specifics of how they are different aren’t ultimately that important. At least not in comparison to the way in which they’re the same. Despite how very different Heavens (and in theory a very different Hells could have a similar sort of impact) changed the details of their relationship dynamics, in both the book and the show, Crowley leans on Aziraphale for emotional support to deal with trauma. (As a side note, I don’t want to imply that this is a one-way relationship. Aziraphale also receives emotional support from Crowley; I’m just not touching on that now because I have to draw the line somewhere.) And that emotional support is a key factor in what makes Crowley different from other demons.
Obviously, we can see how being stuck in Hell would have made Crowley a worse person – though I use the word worse lightly here, as I think it’s very likely that rather than getting meaner for being stuck in Hell, Crowley would develop a learned helplessness. But even if Crowley was on Earth, being on Earth without that emotional support would have eventually had a huge negative impact on him and his attitudes and behavior. Because seeing humans being cruel to each other hurts him, and with no way to process that hurt, it would keep building up until eventually he would have to retreat into apathy to protect himself. But where the apathy of a Hell-residing Crowley would be underpinned by a sense of hopelessness because cruelty from demons is just what he expects, the apathy of an Earth-residing Crowley would have underneath it a lot of anger and betrayal. He did expect better of them, and they let him down time and time again until he stopped seeing the good in them. This betrayal-fueled apathy is the recipe for getting a Crowley that presents as a stereotypical demon, selfish and cruel.
And now finally we reach the point. All of this, all 3767 words of it (well, most of it) was all just context building up to this question: what the fuck did Heaven and Hell do to Crowley and Aziraphale in the 1992 script version?
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Psycho-philosophy & the angels, fallen or not (part I)
I swear I wasn’t taking any mind-altering substances while I wrote this. It’s very heavy and I’m not sure anyone will enjoy it, but I felt like I had to get it out.
And now it’s too long to be just one part. Here is the first part anyway.
It’s established that Aziraphale and Crowley symbolize the “opposing” sides of human nature, but I have a pretty difficult time with believing that they actually represent “good” and “evil.” THEY believe they represent “good” and “evil.” But even before the two of them develop their humanity by spending time on Earth, before they start to affect each other, they both have philosophies that are far more complicated than just “do good things/be helpful” or “do bad things/be hurtful.”
Before you can be “good,” you need a definition of “good.” And the same goes for “evil.” And I absolutely do not think that the characters’ personal definitions of “good” and “evil” match with the narrative’s definitions of “good” and “evil” (which I’m not strictly sure it really has). So...what might they represent more closely?
In extremely broad terms based more in dictionary definitions than in the finer points of academic philosophy, I’d cast Crowley as the individualist and Aziraphale as the collectivist. Individualism is the prioritizing of the individual’s interests over a group’s interests. Collectivism is the prioritizing of a group’s interests over the individual’s interests.
Obviously, this is heavily informed by abuse from their Sides. Hell motivates its demons to behave by making them fear for their own souls using physical intimidation. Temptations are also usually focused on taking advantage of some selfish motivation in humans. Heaven, meanwhile, motivates its angels with the promise of the Greater Good, intimidates its angels with the belief that disobedience is out of line with the Greater Good, and shames its angels for acting with any sort of personal interest.
“What?!” you say. You’re going to cast Crowley, the guy who initially hatched the plan to try to save the world at great personal risk, as the self-centered individualist, and Aziraphale, the hedonist who’s just about ready to watch the world burn at Heaven’s command until Crowley buys him lunch, as the collectivist one?!
Well...in a way. Because while the characters believe they represent these ideas, and while they genuinely buy into them on some level, the whole point is that the two viewpoints taken to extremes end up looking awfully similar. They also rely on each other, no matter how much they try not to.
I should clarify a few things before arguing any more.
The perceived “selflessness” of collectivism is sometimes idealized, and that’s why it maps onto the supposed “goodness” of Heaven, but it doesn’t actually mean kindness, compassion, or goodness. It means not considering oneself - including one’s own identity, preferences, or moral conscience. Likewise, the perceived “selfishness” of individualism is often vilified and gets cast as evil, which is why it maps onto Hell, but all it really means is placing one’s own perspective at the utmost importance, which can be beneficial depending on who’s doing it.
I’ve seen some incredibly smart commentary on the Good Omens book being a just-barely-post-Cold War novel comparing, among other things, Capitalism (heavy on individualism) and Communism (heavy on collectivism). I thought the analysis I read was brilliant, it told me a lot that I had not thought of before, and I would love to read more. But that’s not what I want to talk about here.
In this essay, I’m really sticking to the terms “individualism” and “collectivism” as they inform the psychologies of individual people (Crowley and Aziraphale). I’m trying to have a discussion that I think is important, because it’s important for humans to have a healthy notion of how individuals fit into their relationships and communities, but my commentary is much more vague and not tied to a specific moment in history. I’m frankly not very qualified to talk about the Cold War, anyway.
Crowley and Aziraphale are a couple of paradoxes. At least, they’re paradoxes until they discover Earth as their true allegiance, at which time they just become two balanced angels of neither Heaven nor Hell.
CROWLEY’S PHILOSOPHY
Crowley knows he’s supposed to represent Hell and the kind of self-interested desperation that drives people to damnation - a kind of extreme individualism. But he’s been condensed into an Earthly being who’s formed relationships and preferences and loves and, gosh, although he wouldn’t admit it, a conscience. Unlike Aziraphale, he’s much more OK with this sense of identity, because individualism is not incompatible with being, well, an individual. But he does struggle with the fact that he’s supposed to be working toward The End Of All Things for his own self-preservation when his real wish is for The Continuation Of All Things.
Most of Crowley’s decisions are framed from his own personal opinions. He approaches the world as he sees fit, which includes accepting his job of damning souls because he has to or he’ll get destroyed. He does what he needs to survive, so you could say he “answers to the higher power of Hell for self-interested reasons,” but for moral purposes, Crowley does not answer to anyone. Interestingly, though, he DOES have a conscience based in his own feelings.
By personality (not because he serves some moral power but because it’s just his personal preference), Crowley does not like certain kinds of cruelty. He’s willing to do his job, but he doesn’t enjoy taking free will away from people, for example. And in most cases, outright violence (like Hastur turning into a pile of worms and eating the telemarketers alive) is not something Crowley is into, either. In this case, the fact that he’s self-motivated means he has enough imagination to grasp what it’s like to be another person, and while he’s willing to upset people/give people the opportunity to damn themselves/generally be inconsiderate in public, Crowley simply does not enjoy the experience of destroying others without giving them a choice.
Oh, and we can’t forget: “You’re supposed to test them, but not to destruction.” It’s Crowley’s personal feelings that lead him to believe Armageddon shouldn’t happen, and Crowley’s personal feelings that lead him to act out against Hell.
With all that said, Crowley feels a profound love for the world and Aziraphale (whether he’ll admit it or not) because he really enjoys it on Earth, and he wants to keep enjoying it. Therefore, all of his “individualism” ends up working in the favor of the “greater good” anyway. In the end, Crowley temporarily loses hope and stops fighting, but by this point, he’s already had his positive effect.
It’s kind of like Terry Pratchett’s powerful quotation about witches being selfish. “All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany's Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours!” Maybe it’s not so intentional on Crowley’s part, but the outcome of his love for Earth and his bond with Aziraphale ends up serving the interests of others.
Crowley’s journey involves a less drastic change than Aziraphale’s. Once he thinks it’s possible to fight for the world and survive, he doesn’t have a single qualm about it, because he answers to his own standards, not anyone else’s.
AZIRAPHALE’S PHILOSOPHY
Aziraphale, on the other hand, has to basically figure out that it’s a good thing to use his own judgment instead of Heaven’s. In doing so, he has to rewrite his belief system and even rework his identity.
Aziraphale knows he’s supposed to represent the collective, Heaven, the Greater Good. But he’s been condensed into an Earthly being who’s formed relationships and preferences and loves and a conscience and an identity of his own. At first, this feels wrong to him, because many of his personal interests go against Heaven’s. It’s why he’s so incredibly good at repressing and denying; he has this sense of Self but doesn’t believe he’s entitled to it and doesn’t realize there is any way to separate from Heaven, so as far as he knows, to allow this Self to grow and flourish would ultimately be extremely painful and potentially dangerous. You can tell the other angels aren’t happy with his sense of self, either, as far as he allows it to go (see: any interaction in the bookshop, Gabriel’s behavior over the sushi).
Aziraphale is so oriented toward the Heavenly collective that he literally denies himself his own judgments, his own opinions. He’s convinced that Heaven is the Greater Good, so he accepts that as reality no matter how absurdly wrong their actions might seem to someone with an iota of common sense. He has not been allowed to have an opinion on it, and he will not form one now. He does intensely enjoy performing altruism and does not approve of Heaven’s plans to drown all of Mesopotamia and turn Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt, but he will even push aside the satisfaction of kindness and the fear of cruelty if he’s told that his feelings don’t fit within the Great Plan.
It’s important to note that as far as Aziraphale believes, the existence of Hell and the work that Crowley is doing for Hell is in fact part of the Great Plan. He says as much to the Archangels when they bully him outside his bookshop.
Aziraphale is enthusiastic and adoring about life on Earth and about humans - and about Crowley! And oh, he does indulge. But he sees this all in a rather passive way, at least at first. He is simply enjoying the world and allowing the Great Plan to unfold. He does not think he has the right or ability to defend the world from Heaven’s judgment, even though he wants to. So, like Crowley’s self-orientation coming full circle to serve the interests of others, Aziraphale’s orientation toward the collective comes full circle to become very self-serving.
THE TWO TOGETHER
Enter Crowley’s judgment. Crowley is really fantastic company, but I think the specific thing he did in the long run was to help Aziraphale see that his own desires and judgments matter. Even when Aziraphale temporarily disavowed their relationship, Crowley’s influence was strong - would the Aziraphale who was standing on the Wall of Eden, or the Aziraphale who witnessed the Great Flood, have chased Gabriel around asking if the war was necessary, or would he have called the Metatron to argue everyone could be saved? Even when Aziraphale doesn’t actually ask questions, these interactions are an assertion of Aziraphale’s own feelings and judgments when he’s being told to be quiet and fall in line. And I really do not think he would have made these assertions before his long Arrangement with Crowley. In this way, Crowley gave Aziraphale the world and the gift of Being Himself.
As for Crowley, he doesn’t care about any Great Plan and thinks Heaven’s will is positively odious, but Aziraphale is convinced that the cosmic dance between the two of them is just ineffable. By playing along with that notion, Crowley allows it to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The meaning of Crowley’s existence goes from “just make everyone as miserable as possible” to “balance out Aziraphale” which really means “create a world that doesn’t suck as much as Heaven or Hell, which are both insufferable.” In this way, Aziraphale gave Crowley the world and the gift of Being Part of Something.
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You and Me Against the World
If someone managed to put Donald Duck and Paperinik on the same stage, they probably wouldn't know it was the same duck. Especially because of the impossibility of putting Donald Duck and Paperinik on the same stage.
Not surprisingly, Donald has been wearing the cape and mask for so long that he already knew how to get his way to keep his identity secret, being mostly Gyro's voice modulator which kept his speech impediment hidden. And if someone was sharp enough to decipher it or, in the worst case, remove the mask, he could easily choose to use his always faithful Car-Cans.
It wasn't easy work, and he recognized it. Now that he had earned his degree online and Della had returned from her boarding school, Scrooge had focused more on adventures, which kept him busier. He used to say that he wanted to go back to the old days and be them three against the world, and Donald could see how much his sister craved it.
But the truth was that he could perceive that it was Scrooge McDuck and Della Duck against the world, who were already an invaluable team while he was the miserable cannon fodder, always being the one who received the blows and the scapegoat when something went wrong.
And being Paperinik... wow, the duck didn't know where to start. Outside of polishing coins in the money bin, starting work in the Tower part time since he came of age, despite being a janitor, made him feel that he was part of something.
The pleasant talks with Lyla and Angus' comments against the local hero, coupled with his peculiar laugh, had become his second home. That was his second biggest secret, though.
Of course, his time has been reduced since the return of Della, who has insisted on recovering lost time. And while he could not blame her, between that and the adventures Donald has not had the time to visit it.
To visit him.
"Is everything okay, Old Cape?"
Donald stopped walking around the 151st floor, being invaded again by a deafening silence that, honestly, was driving him crazy.
He sighed heavily before pluming himself in the chair that the intelligence had previously prepared for him to massage his temple.
"Yes, yes, it's just..." Donald chattered, not knowing how to justify himself because not even he knew why he saw it as a life threatening problem.
And now that he thought about it, it was perhaps ridiculous.
"My sensors do not indicate any physical damage that deserves to be treated after your last adventure, and Evronians have not been seen in days…"
"'m sorry."
However, he spoke so suddenly that Uno did not know what to say, stopping his metal arms to focus on the sailor-dressed duck.
"Why, Hero? You haven't done anything that warrants an apology."
"But, I've set you aside lately. I've been venturing so much with Scrooge and Della that I presented less and less in the Tower unless Paperinik has to save someone helpless, imprison some evildoer or fight some Evronian." Don moved in his seat, raising his hand when he perceived that the AI would speak, "I know I don't show it much or I don't say it very often, but you are one of my best friends, Uno, and I don't want you to think that now that Della has returned, she will take your place or our relationship will become merely formal and..."
However, Uno began to laugh, and Donald took advantage of the moment of confusion to regain the breath he had lost and loosen his bowtie.
"Do you love me so much, Donald?" He made the gesture of withdrawing a tear, making a table appear with a glass of water so that the duck could cool and ignoring his blush, "is fine, it really doesn't matter."
"Re... Really?" Normalizing his breathing, he observed the sly smile on his partner's face.
"I mean, as long as you don't get hurt or your identity is at risk, I know you also have your life, Hero," that he missed him when he was going to venture? Yes, too much. But he couldn't be selfish and hook his friend to the tower even if he had the ability. "Besides, I am irreplaceable, your family does not know the wonders of artificial intelligence."
As if the smirk didn't say much, using the metal arms he pointed to himself, and Donald couldn't help laughing.
"Yes, you're probably right." In fact, the duck couldn't help feeling bad, it hurt to leave his friend on his own and he didn't know why; maybe because he was kinda chained to the Ducklair Tower—?
"I always have it, Old Cape." Very modestly, Uno appeared in a smaller orb in front of Donald, trying not to change color when he hugged him and attached him to his body. ”Let's watch Anxieties, okay? It's about to start and I don't want to miss this episode."
The sailor laughed fondly and rested his chin on the warm orb, listening and feeling its buzzing as the soap opera began.
On the other hand, Uno could not concentrate over the warm and finally relaxed face of his partner, staying curled up against his body.
As long as Donald doesn't get hurt during an adventure, or if a happenstance occurs that puts Paperinik's identity on the tightrope, it would be fine. He always had multiple satellite cameras to make sure of that, and somehow feel accompanied by him.
(And yes, he had finally managed to learn the expression of the tightrope, as well as others that his companion had taught him. After all, he learned fast, and had a large database with him.)
Hiding his 313 in a large bush next to the ruins of the mansion, Paperinik took his X-Transformer out of the trunk before stepping away from Villa Rosa, listening to the thump of his boots against the concrete.
"Where did the attack was, Uno?" universally, the hero cursed himself for having been distracted again by reading Fantomius' diary while adjusting the shield on his wrist.
"In the central park, fifteen minutes from your current position." Showing his point of view, the hero could see the coordinates on the shield, and paused abruptly at the entrance to the city to press a button.
He knew that his little car had an anti-gravity button, or that he could turn to the springs of his boots if he wanted a safer ride, but none of those objects were quiet at close range and, in addition, the Evronians were not as stupid as other petty criminals he faced on a daily basis.
He could simply go for the 313 once he defeated the aliens and go home once everything was resolved.
"You're about to arrive, PK."
Donald smiled sideways. 12 minutes apart thanks to the incredible technology of his X-Transformer.
"Roger, thanks!"
Uno's next comment, however, was overshadowed by one of the classic monologues of a nearby Evronian who pointed a gun at a young pair of ducks.
This would be easy.
*
"Your sister?"
The superhero nodded, removing his mask and growling under his breath. He sat in the chair that the artificial intelligence always prepared for him when he returned from a mission.
"Yep, she apparently had a problem with her boyfriend, her emotions were full of skin and that must have attracted them. They're fine, but it was difficult for me to leave them on the porch of the mansion" sighing, the duck let out an ''m upset' without bothering to remove the voice modulator.
"And you don't care if she wants, I don't know, an advice, let off steam and see you're not there?" Donald looked up, his partner's gaze focused on him as he began to stretch his body.
"I told her I would go out and see the houses for sale. But you're right, I should go. It's getting late, and I still have to pick up 313, and there I left my clothes" at that moment, the duck put on the mask again before getting up, wavering, from the chair.
"Do you need me to take you? I'm sure Master Everett didn't mind if we use one of his electric cars" a small orb appeared next to the hero, who smiled in thanks.
If both felt an accelerated blood pressure, neither of them said anything.
"Thanks Uno, but I could use this route to patrol the city, and I wouldn't feel bad about some technological help."
But Donald did not know what invaded him at that moment when he did something that never went through his thoughts and placed a small kiss on the orb.
The duck's cheeks were painted pink under the mask, as if the fact that Uno's orb will change color was no more embarrassing because, if he didn't know his friend's features and gestures, he would have thought of Due.
"I knew you loved me, Hero, but I didn't know how much." Trying to lighten the mood, the artificial intelligence laughed, nervousness lacking in not having it in his system.
"I, er, I'm sorry," he said, concentrating on the squeak of his boots against the ground until he found himself in the elevator, silent as he made his way to the secret entrance.
"You know I couldn't get mad at you even if I wanted to, Old Cape."
It was Uno's last words before Paperinik taken the grappling hook from his suit's belt and point it to a nearby ceiling.
It should be noted that this little accidental kiss had been recorded in the intelligence's database, and he doubted being able to get rid of it easily.
Nor is it that he will need to do it. Paperinik, Donald Duck, was his friend and partner, the person next to whom he defended the planet.
While they were against the world, the other would be fine.
Until Della Duck's pregnancy was discovered and things began to change.
The sailor was reluctant when he handed the X-Transformer to Uno, holding a duffel bag on the other arm.
"What do you mean, will you stop being a hero?"
If he was already confused by the fact that Donald was so attached to him,
(more than usual since the incident of the kiss, which was not unpleasant for anyone after speaking.)
he knew it was a bad omen when he considered that the duck was not exactly the affectionate type.
However, Uno was not sure how much when the visits to the tower were reduced and PK less monopolized the news during the last months.
"It will be the best," the sailor spoke, a raspy voice making his speech more difficult, "my sister was sent on a mission to space, but she has not returned and her kids have already hatched. One of them took 48 minutes to be born... I have to stop seeing for myself and start seeing for them."
"I could take care of them in the Tower. I could expand my database with the care they need, alter the Tower and make it hatchlings-proof" on the face of the AI was a crooked smile, trying to ignore the unknown fail in his system.
Possible was not.
"Thanks, Uno, but I want them to grow safe, my house may be small but it has what it takes. The last thing they'll need 's to lose their uncle because a Paperinik mission went wrong. I mean, Evronians were already defeated, so..."
He yawned, openly showing his tiredness. As if showing himself demonically calm and not showing signs of anger was bad enough.
Uno fought against the willpower that he did not knew he possess when the image of Scrooge McDuck was presented.
Though he did not quite like his friend's uncle for the accidents that caused him in the adventures (as if PK's injuries were not enough before Donald's gradual clumsiness), having hacked the mansion's cameras when they both argued for him sponsoring Della's mission during the ducklings hatching week had not been a good idea.
And that Donald was emotionally weakened didn't mean he could be triggered off.
"But you're tough, smart and sharp, you'll be fine—"
"Look at me, Uno," the duck pointed to himself, and the aforementioned was able to see how old and exhausted he looked, his eyes swollen and reddish through the hyperspectral cameras and his askew feathers, "I'm not as young as I was eight years ago, and my nephews need my full attention, I'm sorry."
Literally the intelligence did not perceive the moment when his smile was erased. The failure in his system was getting bigger and less possible to ignore.
Donald's voice had broken.
"I understand, but... could I meet them one day?" His metal arms didn't stop his friend when he ran and hugged the orb tightly, rubbing his feathered cheek against the glass.
"One day." Smiling sadly, he said nothing when the non-biological hands rubbed his back. "Thank you for always being there, mate."
"Whatever for you, Old Cape..."
The adult sighed heavily and reluctantly moved away from the artificial intelligence, holding the duffel bag tightly.
"I'd like to stay longer, but I have to go with Gyro and hand him the gizmos, and I promised Panchito and José that I wouldn't be out for long."
As he spoke, the speed with which he approached the elevator decreased, especially when he opened it for him.
"See you later, PK."
The sailor's sad smile expanded, and said goodbye with a slow wave.
"Goodbye, Uno..."
That night, he and Lyla Lay were the only entities aware of the Paperinik's retirement by the official source, but Uno did not want to know if it was made public to observe the new episode of Anxieties and the Donald's recordings present in his database.
He was fully aware of his failure when he perceived an unrecognized moisture in his orb, unable to clean it with the metal arms and the electricity of the Tower began to fail.
He was not a fool to recognize feelings, but he had never expected to possess them. It still was the two against the world, yes, but now they would do it each way.
That didn't mean he liked it.
#ducksanta2019#triumphing in life#as always#el's fanfiction#paperinik#duck avenger#donald duck#uno#uno pkna#duno#della and scrooge are only mentioned#ducktales 2017 elements#not the main focus tho#headcanon biased
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Advice to Work on Yourself 🛁 in February 2023: Aquarius
The Moon - 4 Pentacles - Knight of Cups
Regarding: Page of Wands
Either you are very bitter over a former friend that isn’t talking to you, or they feel that way about you. There was a conflict, passionate (angry) messages, and then nothing. Silence. After that, there’s been a whole lot of confusion and assuming, probably on both sides. The Moon energy is positive for feeling something out, and using your intuition, but it also causes a lot of issues when people assume things are one way that they’re not, and act on those feelings. There’s a lot of confusion as to why you aren’t speaking with someone, and fear on their end to try reaching out. Or that’s switched, or it’s both of you mirroring each other. 4 Pentacles shows one or both of you think the other one is holding tightly to old grudges and past bs, when really that’s not true and neither of you are. Not really. The Hanged Man shows both of you are waiting for some sign from the other person, and Walrus says the same thing. Neither of you knows how to act because you both assume the other one is pissed off at them. Which was probably true whenever or however this ended, 5 Swords is a painful conflict that happened at some point. The last row & artist card is the advice. Knight of Cups is taking loving & kind action, with 6 Wands. Be nice and you’ll be fine. Be loving and it’s possible to overcome this. Wheel of Fortune rev does show it may be bad timing, or that the past was a difficult or karmic cycle of some kind, but not necessarily *the* end all be all of this connection. Sophie & the star calls you out for being fake, you care, you just don’t show it out loud 🙃 Maybe you should.
Animal Oracle: Walrus 🦭
“Remain vigilant about the current situation; pay attention to signs and omens, and let them dictate your choices.”
Signs and omens show up in myriad ways, from the wind’s rustle of the trees that make it seem as if they’re whispering to you at a barely audible level, to the rainbow that appears just before an event in which you’re participating. When you’re pondering any kind of question about your life purpose, relationships, career, or even everyday concerns such as whether to actually take the vacation that you’d been planning, you can ask Spirit to give you clear and specific signs. Then watch, listen, feel, and allow thoughts to flow. While you may not always get absolutely clear responses, more often than not you’ll pick up on signs or flies through your eyes, ears, sensations in your body, or thoughts that seem to come out of the blue. You may even have remarkably lucid dreams that you can easily recall in the morning.
Look for the unusual and repetitious. For example, if you hear someone at the supermarket talking about Phoenix (auditory); spot a billboard advertisement with the word Phoenix prominently displayed (visual); and then recall a period of time when you lived in that city, feeling a calmness and joy (sensations) when you bring up that memory (cognitive), these are all clues. It could be about the city of Phoenix, Arizona. Or it could be a subtle way that the spirit guide is offering you their help when you’re ending one cycle completely and beginning another, like the metaphor of the Phoenix rising from the ashes. Omens are perceived in the four ways mentioned. Journal about anything you find significant, and look for repetition. When you see an animal showing up repeatedly, Spirit is with you. Trust the signs and your discernment of them, they’re a personal and significant way Spirit helps guide you along your path. Your Spirit knows how to get *your* attention 🙏
Artist Oracle: SOPHIE CALLE
- Put on a good show for the surveillance cameras.
- Distance makes the heartbreak stronger.
- Invade neighboring states of privacy.
Advice:
- Try Healthy Alternatives
- Improve Your Listening
Charms:
Star of Fame 🌟 on Sophie is like Spirit calling you a hypocrite. You’re at a stand-off with someone you love, whether friend, family, or whoever they are. You don’t talk to them, about them, don’t even acknowledge their existence, you show you’re fine and everything is fine. But you miss them, “distance makes the heartbreak stronger”, and you’re full of bologna. 8 Swords at the beginning could show you’ve felt like your hands are tied, if they’re mad at you then there’s no choice but to leave it behind. But…are they mad at you? The reading seems to lean towards no, you just confuse them. Or, they think exactly the same thing. You could have a job or something where you’re closely scrutinized by other people, the public, and have to act a certain way, which prevents vulnerability or any of your actual emotions coming out. Part of your advice could be to somehow try to be more authentic towards missing someone, or reaching out to them, and idk how, just take that however it might resonate for you.
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Congratulations, KAT! You’ve been accepted for the role of OTHELLO. Admin Rosey: So, one thing that’s really difficult to highlight without overemphasizing is Othello’s dichotomy and his constant conflict. Sometimes you can focus so wholly on one aspect of a character that it’s overwhelming. But Kat, you write Odin so effortlessly, so FREAKING effortlessly that you capture it throughout the application as an integral part of his character -- interweaving it into the plot, the sample, even the “what drew you to this character” section. I am completely blown away and utterly terrified of what havoc you’re going to wreak on the dash. I am screaming over this application and I always will, time and time again. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.
WELCOME TO THE MOB.
OUT OF CHARACTER
Alias | Kat Age | 25 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | OK so my classes went online and my job has cut staff in half so I have so much free time and so much muse. Listen…. LISTEN I know I’m not always reliable but it’s game time lemme say like at least twice a week, I’m here for the haul let’s write baby!!!!!!!!!!! Timezone | EST How did you find the rp? | I originally came across it in the lsrpg tag, also my girl Taryn recommended it and also I miss y’all :( Current/Past RP Accounts | These are links to inactive past accounts:
https://neosy.tumblr.com/ https://grchcmisms.tumblr.com/ https://99gael.tumblr.com/ https://halogenq.tumblr.com/ https://odinbellc.tumblr.com/ ;) https://pavellam.tumblr.com/
IN CHARACTER
Character | Othello, Odin Bello – requesting faceclaim change to Trevante Rhodes :^) What drew you to this character? |
Through my first experience writing Odin I learned a lot about both him and myself as a writer. He was initially a challenge for me because at my roots I was never someone successful in writing characters with good intent, the easier side of him being the one of violence and chaos, something that was difficult considering more often than not… that isn’t who Odin is, or more fittingly, who he wants to be. I struggled with his daily life, the man he tries so hard to be and who he’s used to becoming over the years and I realized that was the key in; the struggle. I’ve teetered around writing for a while recently, the desire and the muse not being there for me when I remembered my dear, dear, Odin and for a split second I wondered about him. Such an interesting thing, to wonder about a character, to dive deep into your mind’s eye and ask, “How is he doing, I wonder? The man of gold and copper, the being of olympus and hades? How is my boy?” And realizing the responsibility of creating and finding that out is all mine. It felt like seeing a past lover in the check out line, wide eyes as you remember the missed calls and blocked number, and realize how fuckin’ good they look today and, damn, were stupid for leaving them.
Dearest Odin, please take me back. I miss you so dearly. I’ll try hard not to leave you so suddenly this time, that was my bad.
Who am I to fool myself? My heart always brings me back to him. Feed me an optimist with nothing but a history of failure, rocks beating down on a pristine marble surface til the cracks spell misery. It’s all his fault, the pain, suffering, and failure… but he tries so hard. It’s as if he’s doomed from the beginning, the first cries from his mouth as a child, a bad omen, the first steps he takes, the small tottering of a baby, were faced in the wrong direction. Some people are born bad, some people are cultivated as such, and Odin, at his root, is a demon in disguise even despite his most valiant efforts; it’s a nature he fights everyday and, oh, the battle grows bloodier and bloodier.
The rest may look familiar to you:
I’ve always been a sucker for a good heart and bruised knuckles.
Such beauty and chaos, such destruction and uncertainty, an aching heart that slips through your fingers as you struggle to grasp it, begging it to hold still. He shakes and struggles with nature and nurture, who he should be and who he wants to be, and more importantly, what he’s become. He feels the remorse and pain of it everyday when he wakes and each night he goes to sleep – for a time he managed to be the person he worked so hard to be. It crumbled under his feet and his developing insanity, the rumble of his father’s ways breaking the ground under his skin and causing something of a snap, a moment of true obscurity. He hates himself for it, but he cannot yet again break his mold, he cannot become someone else. His will is cracking, his heart breaking.
Give me his nuance, give me his pain, give me his turmoil, and oh, please, give me his struggle; the desperate gasp of collapsed lungs and a tattered chest. I cannot stress how beautiful I find him, the feeling in my ribcage so solemn at his childhood and forthcoming, his painful attributes and breaking spirit. A man who shows his kindness through terror and bloodshed, so intent on being a good person that he’d tear the throat of a thief with his teeth.
Yes, I’ve found love.
What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.
(I have new ideas but lord, do I struggle with formulating plot ideas in this format so I’m just gunna keep the same ones because of such and because I DO in fact still want to play them out.)
MEN SHOULD BE WHAT THEY SEEM //
Oh, can the flash of his teeth brighten a room. His smile is bright but, these days, so rarely genuine. He no longer knows who he is truly fighting for, what side of the coin he lays on with his copper spinning on its side in a never ending spiral. He does not know where he belongs, nor, who he truly is and it plagues him in a way that’s all too familiar, a way that feels like his mother’s comfort and his father’s recklessness, the smell of alcohol on someone’s tongue when they speak and the feeling of a caress on skin. He needs to make a choice, a permanent decision for once in his life, pick his path and follow it to the end instead of cutting through the woods once more. Who are you, Odin? His own face in the mirror becoming more unfamiliar in each passing day, a building anxiety and insanity, a hurricane creating a disaster inside him. Who are you?
His reflection tired, tainting his handsome face and false expressions, a hunger growing just under the surface, a desperation so hot; who will you be?
FOR SHE HAD EYES AND CHOSE ME //
Delilah, oh, how she filled something inside of him, and oh, how he tore into the filled space as if rabid, as if being whole was too much to bear, the filled space too heavy, and the paranoia of losing it all creasing his forehead and melting in his palms.
So he did what he does best, and he ripped through the plaster and insulation like a hammer, shattered the glass and caused the empty space to bleed. It hasn’t stopped aching, despite his insistence that it has healed, sometimes he still wakes with his shirt soaked in blood, drenched in suffering. How can he learn to forgive? He learned his lessons but the morals cannot seem to stick, the weakness he caused in his own self and the horror he caused for the woman he loved – loves, still finding its way through his mind and heart. He seeks self forgiveness just as much if not more than he seeks hers. He cannot move on without finding solace or closure but those are two things so hard to capture and accept. Sometimes, he feels so much like his father with his past misgivings it stirs disgust.
It’s time to repent.
THE GREEN EYED MONSTER //
Ivan is a scab, an infection that Odin refuses to treat. He’s become cautious, wearily aware of betrayal in the past and more on the horizon. He has a feeling, a ponderance that keeps him up at night, the sends shocks through his veins. He hates to think of his friend, his family, as a traitor, as a monster in disguise seeking to antagonize the worst parts of Odin himself, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore. It scrapes the back of his mind, creates an itch that he cannot scratch no matter how deep he digs, no matter if the skin starts bleeding, it won’t go away. How does he cut out another piece of his life, another piece of himself so vital? It feels like he is losing those most important to him, that they’re all turning on him and it creates nothing but fear, more paranoia and uncertainty.
He wants so desperately to be wrong, but knows what will happen if he is not.
Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If anyone deserves to die at some point in this rp I feel like Odin’s a good contender to get fuckin’ GANKED
IN DEPTH
Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)
In-Character Para Sample:
Act I
The sun beats down on darkened skin, wind blowing through open cruiser windows, sunglasses adorned on his face and a holder keeps track of coffees. In the daylight he glistens – not in a literal sense of glowing skin and eyes, he does not hover over the earth as if ethereal, not a streak against the sky that blinds any human eyes that dare linger, but instead in the sense that no one could ever find the man to be anything but happy. His teeth, those straight, white, teeth that come alive in a smile and clear rooms with a sneer peek from behind pulled lips in a grin. He walks with a swagger, bearing gifts in coffee for other officers and sharp humor and barked laughs for poor moods. He so easily falls into the facade of being created from nothing but light and the body of Christ, a saint in all regards except moral, light jests greeting all who perceive him and all who engage.
Well groomed, upkept and clean, there was no reason to suspect anything was amiss in the crook of his grins, the sharp of his wit, the movements of his muscles under skin. He even makes arrests like a holy man, like someone with something to lose to violence. His hands rest on the steering wheel, music plays from the stereo and he nods his head, every other line finding its way out of his lips even in no one’s presence but his own. He isn’t playing a character in the moment, enjoying the everydayness of the outside world, the warmth of the air touching his limbs and being sucked into his lungs. He feels joy, he embodies it, he hovers with it. His foot eases off the gas at the turn of a light and one hand finds itself resting outside the drivers window, head cocked to the side, heart beating steadily in his chest – firm and ever present in the strength of his pulse.
A human being in all forms; a person, a person, a person, and his phone rings.
Pulling in the parking lot he answers the call, the perspective outside leaves the voice on the other end muffled as it’s pressed to his ear, his face falling ever so slightly, car pushed into park. He nods even though the speaker cannot see him, he makes a sound of understanding as they continue and suddenly something is more solid inside of him. The fluidity, the liquid that flowed between sunlight and good music steels itself against the reality of his life, of who he is and what he is to do, the lake jostled and good-feelings distorted. It’s not for the faint of heart, not created for those with poor constitution, and he is a police officer until ten tonight; that’s what he says to the voice on the other end so they tell him to have it done by eleven. He does not hesitate until he hangs up, a sigh of the last good breath leaving his lungs. A moment of silence for what he lost.
He grabs the coffees and heads inside.
Act II
The headlights send streaks through the night, the yellow color sending shadows running rampant across the near empty field – long and sickly. The air is not still but choked, a vice grip stealing the oxygen away from those who dared attempt breathing. There stood a figure in the darkness, large shoulders over a larger frame, muscles tightened as he digs and digs, the shovel breaking the earth harshly with each bend of his arms. His breathing is rough, like a rubber band pulled to full capacity trying to bend and break to fit the expansion of his lungs. The shovel carries on.
The silence that hung heavy around the lone sound of crumbling dirt could kill in its own regard; ringing in his ears as he ignores the shower curtain wrapped in duct tape buried in the back corners of his trunk. Odin’s mind is empty to everything but the task, split skin and dried blood from his face and knuckles, the bruises adorning his ribcage. Perhaps it was self defense for the sake of defense, he threw the first punch but it was returned just as well and by then, truly, the control was lost. It was what they had wanted to happen, and he was nothing if not complicit. He supposed that was what they liked about him, another body, a bloodhound. Caving for the sake of therapy, sober by daylight and drenched in sweat and blood by nighttime – if only to keep his sanity. He was nothing if not built of power and control in both physical and mental regards over everyone but himself.
Try to carve a better god out of wood, put him on a pedestal and pray all you’d like, the real sacrifice will come in blood much later – but this flesh and bone, that which has created the man who finds himself up to his chest in dirt standing at over six feet, he is paid now and up front. He is solid, and real.
He straightens up, dirt caked to his jeans and soiled t-shirt, sweat broken across his skin making him shine under the glare of the headlight, the sheen making him appear as if glowing under the half exposed moon. He plants his hands on the outside on the deepened earth and pulls himself out, breathing hard through his nose, a noise like a grunt, face twisted, teeth appearing behind pulled lips. He stares at the dip of the trunk, chest moving, knuckles tightening, shovel thrown to the side. He isn’t even halfway done yet; he gathers himself, and pulls the latch free.
Act III
(TW: self harm kind of)
The neighborhood is still and quiet, blackness behind every window and curtain at such an ungodly hour, the only sounds being the low rumble of the occasional car passing on the main road nearby. In the stillness there begins a movement, the shape of a tall man shaking open the gate leading to the back of a house, his clothes defiled and leaving trails. He strips in the backyard of the home; shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans forming a pile of mud and dirt by the sliding glass doors until he stands in his boxers, fingers unlocking the back door, the cold of the night wetting trails down his back and sides, whispering to his skin. He walks slowly to avoid making any noise, the sound of keys hitting the granite of a kitchen countertop. Even despite how delicately he walks, the mass of his body makes the stairs protest lowly when his feet find them.
The man first goes to the bathroom, the light flicked on as he tries to avoid his face in the mirror. He is not the same creature that caused the blood to pool in his wounds, not the same monster with dirt caked under his nails – not here, he can’t be; not in front of her. He turns on the shower, body directed towards a corner of the bathroom while he waits for the water to heat, staring blankly at the space where the two walls meet, hands twitching, brain fighting not to think, the sound of static until smoke fills the room. The adrenaline still pumps through his veins, the wild-eyed insanity created by anger and a lack of self control, the rush of the final blow still stinging in the shaking of his muscles. The water turns first brown from the dirt adorning his limbs, then becoming a far more sinister red when he submerges his face and hands, he washes himself slowly, rubbing at his back and shoulders, the sweat off of his skin, the searing pain of smoking water near boiling scalding the back of his neck. He doesn’t allow himself to think, not now, not yet. He doesn’t hum or sing, doesn’t talk to himself, but instead thinks only of his actions as they happen or nothing at all.
He doesn’t know how long he stands under the water, so hot it scalds, burns off the sin and the disgust, scrubbing and scrubbing until he could feel himself beginning to cause harm, wounding, convincing himself he’s becoming clean until he forces his hand, stopping the running water. He stands even longer still, his wet skin freezing over in the silence of the steamed room. Finally when he finds himself ready, he dries off until he feels pristine, the wash of the shower head like a baptism into the form of a different man, a new mold built into his model. Only then does he look in the mirror, eyes meeting the reflection of a handsome man, a cursed man, a martyr only in the sense of self respect and fear. His eyes are tired, his face adorning new cuts and scratches, bruises blooming his sides under skin and over muscle. He aches all over. He bares his teeth at the reflection and it does it right back, a snarl of bright white, the bones straight and sharp, and his eyes so quickly become frightening. He turns away.
Odin’s face peers around the door of a new room, hands finding covers and the soft sound of a woman waking. She turns to him, her face telling of sleep and her lips turned slightly down in a frown, her hands finding his chest, wrapping around his torso, her face in his neck, breath fanning over that damn skin of his and she says, “Long night?”
His fingers trail down the back of her shirt, fingertips pressing to the small of her exposed back stretched between her clothes and he hums quietly, face buried in her hair, body melting and moving to fit hers more comfortably, grip tight to squeeze her form, to hold onto something solid, to find his anchor. “Always, baby. Go back to sleep.” He says in a low voice, something comfortable, something familiar there, as if he’s smiling. She makes a noise of acceptance, curling even further towards him, as if a safety, sinking even further as his fingers trail up and down her back, soothing, as to not allow her to be distraught. Delilah was always the one he worried about, not concerning himself with the rotting inside his own chest, the ache of something breaking within him. He fights with the inability to sleep while the rush of the night still feeds inside of him. He does not concern himself with what little is left of him because while he is with her he is safe from the part of himself that only consumes, he is not concerned with the fragility of his own being, not while he breathes in the heat radiating off of l'amore della sua vita.
Meanwhile, miles and miles away, something begins to rot under the cover of freshly turned Earth.
Extras: I made a tag for him a long time ago and haven’t touched it much since tbh but like I'ma probably add stuff the next few days so this 4 u: https://hypnosreigns.tumblr.com/tagged/character:%20odin%20bello
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So, Will the movie Cassandra be our Cassie or just some Cassandra? Cuz... Not getting Cassandra Cain vibes from her. Thoughts?
I.. I am seriously having no hope for this to appeal to me... If someone likes the premise and digs the characters, more power to them, I’m happy they’re getting something entertaining. God knows we need some good entertainment form DC at this point because laughing at Joker only takes one so far...
I am putting the rest under the cut, because it’s been a long, hard week, the Christmas break made me even more tired than the months leading to it, and I need to vent on a fairly unimportant subject that doesn’t influence anyone’s life, not really. If someone reads it and does not agree with anything I’ve said, swell, I am not interested in conversation on this subject, keep on stepping. Unless you agree and want to bitch together, then we can bitch together, I am not above some therapeutic bitching.
I am just not a fan of the new iteration of Harley and neither of these characters feels right... Cass seems like just some thuggish-kid, they’re all dressed like a trift-shop vomited on them... like this style I see often in some female-driven media “I want to dress them up cool, but not too good so they can’t be accused of being too attractive or too sexy so even when I’m making a sexy costume I will make it look like something Clarissa would wear! And also the budget is short.” which just translates to layers of unattractive clothing meant to look ‘relaxed and I-don’t-care’... which just looks uninspired and tells us nothing about the character (non-sexy doesn’t have to mean unattractive, and this comes form someone who dresses for comfort and doesn’t mind a standardised uniform at work). Costuming is important, at least for me, I like a good, distinctive notes in my character ways of dressing (please consult Good Omens for ideas on that). And this promo looks like they just rolled up to the shoot in whatever they had laying around?
And I didn’t miss the fact that in promo material the Birds wears dark colours whereas Harley gets the brights, cause you know, most marketable character of the bunch so PUSH HER QUIRK QUICK MAKE HER DO/SAY SOMETHING QUIRKY AND CRAAAYZY
It’s either that or the director is perma-stuck in the early 90′s fashion sense...
What I am seeing in the future is a show that’s trying really hard to get out from under the weight of the Suicide Squad that gets lambasted by nerdgeeks for supposed plot holes and bad script (Listen if Titans gets a pass from the fanboys on it’s weak script and cinematography, and hideous costuming of season 1 then Harley&Co should be in the safe, right? Be prepared for the slew of “I have nothing against women in shows but this is bad for a completely unrelated reason” from every Youtube neckbeard with more than a dozen subscribers) that I will feel bad for not defending, because I am so no annoyed by Harely becoming The Hot Girl of he DC universe... to the point of unseating Barbara Goddamn Gordon in her own damn team, because DC’s perceived target audience won’t fap to a mature, collected powerful woman on a wheelchair so they can’t have her in a film or some marketing executive may get an aneurysm=_=
(If they pull some last-minute reveal of the Oracle pulling the strings from the shadows I will punch a bus stop, but I will be happy about that broken hand, cause she’s there at least)
Like, look guys, my dislike of the character’s recent iteration is one thing, but in this case I am looking at this whole DC cinematic verse with the eyes of a hardened cynic that knows a bit how marketing works and nothing about it sparks a shred of positive reaction in me. My absolutely favourite DC character since I was 10 was (ad still is) Superman and there’s nothing redeemable about Man of Steel or BvS, nothing.at.all. I am so tired of the marketing taking over storytelling and BoP looks no different to me - a marketing ploy, just with a different audience. Because giving Harley a hyena is more important than being faithful to the rest of the characters, I guess.
(Who the fuck is that Cass? Who the fuck is that girl, tell me?! She’s not there to let us know her. She’s there to look at the hyena and draw our attention to the fact that “wait, this isn’t normal, you are so crazy, Harley!” She’s in a scene and that scene tells me nothing about her to make her seem like any other kid. I know nothing about these characters because 80% of the promo only pay attention to one, I only know how Harley bounces off them. Like I‘m reading a fanfic where the main character is so darn unusual everyone has to comment on it!)
There’s hope for Wonder Woman 2 being good, because atm she’s the sole pillar holding the whole verse up and Patty may get some more freedom to make the movie she wants to make with a decent budget and no need to score woke points by making all of her girls into disgruntled rebels that dress up in a dark room=_=
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Marauders’ Animagus Forms
Yeah yeah, I know, most people will probably say it’s obvious; James is a stag because of his pride, Sirius is a dog because he’s loyal, and Peter is a rat because he’s a traitor.
Yeah, I’m not buying those, at least not that simply. (This is gonna get long, so let me put it under a cut)
Let’s start with Sirius, because he’s gonna be easiest for me. I’m not disputing that he’s loyal, I know he is, and dogs are known to be very faithful - Other animals are, too, but dogs stand out due to their faithfulness towards humans in particular, and are more well-known for it than other domestic animals.
What, then, am I questioning? Well, why is Sirius a big, black dog? A dachshund is loyal, too. Or a toy poodle, or a Chihuahua. Or a corgi they’re adorable. But no, our dear Padfoot isn’t just a pooch, he’s a big, black, shaggy pup.
Now, let’s start with the breed. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think anyone ever mentioned one, so I’ll assume he’s a mutt. He didn’t have to be; there’s plenty of big dogs with black fur. Irish Wolfhounds come to mind, black labrador, Rottweiler or Dobermann (Though those aren’t fully black), even German Shepherds. He’s from a long line of purebloods obsessed with purity, but he is not a purebred dog.
Because Sirius rejected that idiology. I think an animagus can reflect a LOT about a person’s personality - There are so many different animal species, subspecies and breeds, after all - and refusing to obsess over blood purity like his ancestors was important for him; hence, his animagus form mirrors that.
Now, mutts still come in all shapes and sizes, but Pad is still a big black dog. The size, well, he wanted to keep a darn werewolf company; he must have REALLY wanted to be a big animal. Protecting and helping his friend was so important to him; and a big animal is much more easily able to protect someone than a small one.
That leaves color. A big black dog is also an omen of death; the Grim in Harry Potter specifically, and there are many English folk tales about black dogs like the Barghest. But first, as a nice tidbit: Not all those folk tales say the black dog is evil. Most, yes, but a few have the black dog as a protector; I distinctly remember one where people claim it’s perfectly safe to let children play on the meadows near that village because the dog is watching over them. Now, that sounds like it’s suit Pads.
But it’s more; even though he rejected his Black lineage, it’s still there, looming over him. To non-purebloods, the Black family is probably not the best omen, especially with Voldy on the rise. The first time someone hears Pad’s name, they won’t know that he’s not a blood supremacist; just like someone seeing a huge black mutt won’t know whether that dog is dangerous or not. Sirius may have rejected his family, but in a way, it’s still almost haunting him.
Next up is James. I’ll admit I don’t know as much about deer as I do about dogs (I heard they don’t make too great pets), but regardless, I think just “he’s proud” isn’t enough justification.
Lots of animals are associated with pride. Most prominently lions, but also tigers, and maybe to a lesser extent even domestic cats; also horses, sometimes wolves, and even if you want to stay deer-like, I’d say a moose, elk or reindeer is a tad more impressive than a Stag (I think he’s meant to be a red deer? It’s not explicitly mentioned, but that’s how I’d imagine him). So why did he end up in the shape that he did? If I’d want to keep a werewolf in check, I’d pick a moose. I would NOT mess with them.
First, the carnivores. It’s kind of hard to find the right words, but I’d say in some way, they’re too fierce. Of course, big carnivores don’t just go and kill stuff just because, but most tend to be more aggressive than herbivores; most herbivores as prey animals run away if there’s a danger, while carnivores, being predators, fight. James wouldn’t back down from a fight - And deer can fight, with both antlers and hooves - but once he’s grown out of his teens, he’s more of a carer and nurturer than a fighter, I’d say. And it took me a long-ass time to understand that, while he was a jerk as a teen, he most likely wasn’t one as an adult.
We still have a bunch of herbivores left, though. Well, moose are easy to leave out; they’re solitary, and I, for one, can’t imagine Prongs without his friends. Well, the simplest explanation would probably be that stags are just more well known for trying to impress their does, but I’m not here for analyzing meta reasons, I want to find in-story ones. So, I’ll cheat a little bit and say that the animagus form is mostly based on a person’s core personality, but influenced by lots of things: Not just how the animal actually is, but also how it’s perceived, the wishes of the animagus-to-be, how they think about themselves, all of that. Basically, it’s like the animagus form is trying to communicate as much about the human as it can.
James is, or at least was as a kid, something I’d describe in German as a “Wildfang”; literally it means “wild catch”. I don’t like the English translations I’m finding, so I’ll just describe it as someone - often a child, but sometimes also a young adult - who likes to bend or break rules, and wants to have fun in their own way without caring about society’s expectations of what or how they should be. A little boy preferring to stay out till dark with his friends instead of studying, or a girl playing in the mud without caring about her dress getting dirty. Sound like someone we know?
Now, as a “wild” boy, our little Prongs probably wouldn’t want to be a domesticated animal, or better, wouldn’t see himself as one. Horses can often be described as proud, but the well-trained ones are usually also very obedient.
And elk or reindeer, well... They might be more physically impressive than a red deer, but if people’s expectations about an animal play at least some part, then of course he’d end up the most well-known option, making him a stag. That also opens the interesting thought that it’s more than likely different cultures would cause different animagi, thanks to different ways of looking at animals, but I digress.
Last, but not least, is Peter. Honestly, he’s the main reason for this post, because I adore rats; I never kept any as pets, but I wanted to as a kid. Newsflash: Rats are not traitors. Again for the people in the back:
Rats are not traitors. Rats are incredibly social animals.
Yes, I’ve already assumed human preconceptions have an influence on the animagus form, but I don’t think they could overwrite the animal’s true characteristics. If they could, Padfoot being basically the Grim would mean he’s evil, but he isn’t.
Now that that’s out of the way, what do I mean with “social animals”? Some wild rats teach their young how to open pinecones to get the seeds, which is cute, but there’s something even more amazing: There have been experiments with a trapped rat, and a free rat. The free rat was able to push a button, releasing the trapped one.
It doesn’t stop there; in further experiments, they made it so the rat had to swim to get to the button, which rats normally don’t like. It did so anyway, to help the trapped one. They also put some delicious food out; the free rat often ate some, but not all, before releasing the trapped one, basically sharing the food. Unrelated to that, rats are among the rodents most likely to bond with their owner. Mice, degus (even though they’re adorable), even guinea pigs; some might bond with their owner, but by far not all. And even then, it’s kind of rare they’d want to cuddle - rats do.
And that is supposed to mean “traitor”? Really? Rats get a bad rep, I know, but how can you look at that stuff and decide “Yep, that means someone who can turn into a rat HAS to be evil!”?
So how does it relate to Wormtail? Well, while it’s a movie quote (Sorry - books are longer ago, and I haven’t read them as often as I watched the movies), I distinctly remember someone saying that Peter used to cling to his friends’ coattails, and at least I don’t remember any book quote refuting that. Rats are group animals, they need other rats in order to be happy; suits being a bit clingy with friends, doesn’t it?
Now, of course, rats aren’t the only social animals around. Wolves are probably among the most well-known, but there’s plenty of herd or pack animals. Well, first, I’d throw out the big ones - Wolves, lions, horses, etc. Yes, they’re group animals and need company of their own, too. But can you imagine Wormtail as a lion?
I’m verging into headcanon territory, but I feel like Peter probably lacked self-confidence and self-esteem. James and Sirius were cocky as they could be, and Remus, even though he probably had moments when he doubted himself, still comes across as mostly self-assured. But Peter?
Most big animals aren’t only known for being group animals; they’re also known for things like pride, strength, ferocity. Peter may have wanted to be a big animal to help his friend (yes he was part of the Marauders, another thing I took a long-ass time to accept. He betrayed them later on, but during Hogwarts, they were one group), but his self-doubts might have reflected on his form. What if he messed up? What if he couldn’t keep Moony in check and someone got hurt? As a tiny rat, there would’ve been nothing he could’ve done anyway, right?
Now, even small animals often have groups. Rabbits, guinea pigs, mice, degus... So there’s still lots of options. Some other things rats are known for is curiosity, intelligence, and being survivors.
Let’s start with curiosity. Wormtail was a Marauder. Secret passage? Neat! New path in the forbidden forest? Let’s check it out next full moon with Moony! He wasn’t just an accessory, he was part of the group, so I’m willing to bet he was just as adventurous as the other boys. While my degus are excellent at breaking out of their cage, they also get startled easily, not exactly adventurer material.
Now, intelligence. Okay, I’ll admit, I don’t remember if there were any mentions of Wormtail’s grades, but I remember reading a headcanon that he was the one best at coming up with excuses, and I can believe that, even though I’d guess his grades weren’t too great. He might’ve lacked book smarts, but he probably had a good helping of street smarts; bad application of ‘em, but he managed to frame Sirius for the murder of twelve muggles and then live with a family full of wizards - pretty smart ones, at that! - for a pretty long time. Look me in the eye and tell me that doesn’t require any cunning or intelligence. (I do say my degus are smarter than I am, but nobody knows what they are, and I just can’t imagine a new animagus ending up as an animal they don’t even know)
Last is the survival instinct. Look, talking to Voldy wasn’t noble, but it probably helped Peter’s survival. And, honestly? I have no idea what I would do in that kind of situation. Yeah, it looks like it goes against the social part, but - Does it? Voldy definitely threatened Wormtail’s life, but Wormtail was not alone. They sent his finger to his mother, if I recall correctly; what if Voldy threatened her, too? What if Wormtail had to decide between the lives of James, Lily and Harry, and the lives of his mother and himself? I adore my friends, but even though I hope I’d be able to protect them, I’m not sure if I could. And if my brother’s life was in danger, too, or my parents? I genuinely hope I will never, ever have to make a choice like that, because I couldn’t. I don’t love Peter for what he’s done, but I don’t exactly blame him, either. Fear makes you do weird things.
So, to wrap it up, Peter’s not a rat because he’s a traitor. He’s a rat because he’s social and loves his friends; he’s a rat because he’s curious and loves adventure; he’s a rat because he’s smarter than he thinks, and because he’s a survivor. Good people do bad things under the right kind of pressure, and being threatened with death - your own or a loved ones - is one hell of a pressure.
#james potter#sirius black#peter pettigrew#marauders#harry potter#remus lupin#hogwarts#headcanon#yes most of this was because I felt the need to defend rats' honor#what can I say I love rats#THEY ARE NOT BLOODY EVIL
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