#i think this counts as meta

[whetstonefires]

I know I talk about mdzs modern AUs a lot, but it's just somehow become a fascinating adaptation process to me, all these people making their personal calls about the nature of reality.

And a thing I keep coming back to is all the people who deliberately decide to give modern!wwx Mo Xuanyu's build.

To preserve the strength contrast that's leveraged for horny, which like, yeah that's fair, horny is an acceptable reason to make a story choice. I respect that, sometimes grudgingly.

But as a result of noticing this being done, oftentimes it seems without any reflection about why, I've developed this minor obsession with the fact that wwx in his own body at its adult height was fractionally shorter than lwj.

And this was the height he reached after a multi-year period in childhood living on scrounged garbage, plus the three months starving in the mass grave toward the end of his growth period.

Meaning that by all normal logic, a modern AU wwx who did not experience these periods of intense privation--which is most of them; it's quite rare for children to experience that particular form of total neglect in modern developed nations and modernAU!wwx's life ruining circumstances only occasionally involve intense physical torment--is going to be significantly taller as an adult.

Like. Add a few inches on there.

Where are all my adequately nourished six-foot-four Wei Wuxians???

[drbatsponge]

It just hit me that Cassandra Cain, a character who was ultimately created because of the fallout of the Killing Joke, is the ultimate antithesis to the "One Bad Day" ideology Joker states in that story and I find that beautiful.

Since she was born she's had countless bad days and yet she still chooses to be a hero at the end of each of those days.

She's quite literally the ultimate fuck you to the Killing Joke in multiple ways by not only proving Joker's ideology wrong but also continuing the legacy and character of Batgirl.

[charmwasjess]

Still thinking about Galidraan, about the Legends vs Canon treatment of Dooku’s character, namely his exit from the Jedi. 

It’s funny how much it matters to me and improves Dooku’s story that he didn’t leave the Jedi out of growing disillusionment with the Order itself. In the current canon, it’s all framed around a very Padme-esque disenchantment with current political makeup of the Republic, the Jedi being used by the Senate and political machines inappropriately, and how planets with little wealth or influence are left out. In the penultimate moment of crisis, he leaves for Serenno, not because he can’t be a Jedi any longer. Because of a conviction that he could truly make something better. 

And I don’t mean to suggest that he never expresses any criticism of the Jedi or particularly, the Council. He seems to have founded that characteristic trait within the Disaster Lineage. (Ironically, the person in Dooku’s story who should have the most legitimate reason to have a personal problem with the Jedi Order is fucking Sifo-Dyas, who never seems to have considered leaving and literally dies telling the camera he did it all to save the Jedi, but that’s a different post.) But that isn't what compels Dooku to leave. In fact, he remains close with the Order for years afterward.

Why it matters to me is because that detail makes Dooku ultimately betraying the Order SO MUCH MORE FUCKED. 

Because they weren’t an old score he was settling. It wasn't seething resentment that boiled out into revenge years later. They were innocent collateral damage of his decisions. His family. His lineage. His legacy. It makes his treachery so much more personal. He had a wager, power for a horrible cost, and he took the power and paid the horrible cost. Sidious really gets him with:

If Dooku hated them and had always thought they deserved to be destroyed, it wouldn’t have been a true Sith bargain, the trade off wouldn’t have tallied. In the same way that Vader could not have existed if Anakin hadn’t loved Padme and yet still killed her.

If Dooku was just a horrible, conceited, power-hungry ass who expectedly traded the kinda shitty people in his life for a shot at more power, it wouldn’t be a very good story. If he really didn’t give a shit, why would Sidious make that his initiation? But if he does - does care deeply about Sifo-Dyas, does love Qui-Gon like a son, is touched by Yaddle’s kindness and sympathy, begins to see Asajj as a true apprentice, consistently tries to save Obi-Wan out of affection, still considers the Jedi his true family - and yet still dooms them all, how much more tragic and horrible and sickening and real and interesting is his story?

[codacheetah]

Tell me your opinions on the stuff. Any stuff.

Grins. Smiles, even

I'm using you as an excuse to infodump my theory about the Island because I've had no in to do that, and my theory is pure opinion. Anyways:

THE ISLAND IS STUCK IN THE FUCKING FUTURE

(SCARE CHORD)

Hi so you might ask me. What the fuck do you mean by that. Well. Let's start with what we know about the Island, the King, and Wish Craft. (long ass post under cut. sorry)

The Island was redacted from the perception of outside world, via Wish Craft.

Wish Craft has the power to enable Time Craft. We see this primarily through Siffrin's timeloops, but also through the King's powers.

One of the King's powers is to show the saviors a "vision of the future."

...And this same attack is deflected back at the King by Mirabelle in ACT 5, in which the King is able to see the Island before being frozen in time.

...So. The King's "vision of the future." We're never told explicitly what this vision is. All we know is that it's apparently powerful enough to wipe the party in one hit, hearing it from a distance hurts your head, and that whatever Siffrin (and Loop) saw, they don't seem to actually be able to describe it. Even the King himself doesn't know what his vision entails.

We don't know whether the party all sees the same thing when struck by the vision, and Adrienne's answer to the question about it in the Reddit AMA is. vague? It's not a "no," and the specific wording makes me think the answer might be yes. But that's me reading into it.

Now. What do we know about the Island's redaction? The Island was affected by the wish recently, as in "like a decade ago" recently. We know that nobody in Vaugarde or the rest of the world is capable of thinking about the Island, anything closely tied to the Island's culture, or people on the Island for very long. When they do recall these things, they slip right out of reach. Particularly, the consequence for trying to think about the Island (or, more specifically, break the wish that forces the Island out of perception) is significant pain, localized in the head.

And that said pain is enough to become lethal, if pressed hard enough.

From here forward I'm running with the assumption that the King's "vision of the future" is not personalized to any individual, and is unchanging throughout the course of the whole story. Now. Remember the end of ACT 5, where the King gets hit with the deflected "vision of the future", and instead of dying, he recalls the Island and gets frozen in time? Very odd, yeah? Why wouldn't the King just die like everyone else does? He even does take 9999 damage when trying to say its name, like Siffrin does, and like the party does when they're hit by the attack.

Well. We know that he has a "true wish" that the ability to freeze Vaugarde in time grants. I don't think it's at all a stretch to guess that the King's "true wish" is to be able to remember the Island. My personal guess is that the King (and Siffrin) brought this "true wish" into effect via the "SAY ITS NAME" sequence- he even tries three times, a significant number in wishing.

The King (and Siffrin's) wish breaks, because it can't be fulfilled in this moment without breaking the wish to prevent the Island from being thought about. However. Consider the conditions at the end of ACT 5- the King sees the vision of the future reflected back to him, and what he sees is the Island. He remembers the Island, fulfilling his own wish, and is frozen in time. I consider this a compromise between his wish and the one binding the Island- the King gets to remember the Island, but nobody alive is able to think about it, because he's frozen in time; it's like the Universe is correcting itself (I WILL GET BACK TO THIS). The wish of all of Vaugarde to defeat the King is fulfilled, since he is no longer a threat, and Siffrin's wish wraps itself up soon after.

MY POINT BEING. The King's attack is a vision of the future. This "future" is of the Island, in some uncorrupted state. The saviors see it when he attacks them, and he sees it when it is deflected back to him.

The logical next question is "okay, so the Island exists in the future, but how do you know time shenanigans are even related to the Island?"

Recall a very odd series of interactions throughout the game, in which you try to interact with a piece of equipment that you already own.

The game rewinds slightly, before the item disappears, as the Universe corrects itself.

This is awfully similar to two particular events: looping back without seeing the death screen, and talking to the Daydreaming One about her sister. The latter is more interesting to me for the purposes of this theory.

In both instances, something is misaligned within the Universe (an item existing in two places, someone remembering something they're not supposed to) and it is corrected through some sort of rewind. Also compare the dialogue above to when you try to give Mirabelle the Stylish Bow when you already own it.

The world glitches, but Siffrin defuses the situation before the Universe has to intervene. Omitted from the screenshot is the fact that Mirabelle's portraits switch to happy from "catastrophically anxious" with no transition after Siffrin shows her where the bow is. Important to note is that when Mirabelle tries to recall receiving the bow, her head hurts, much like how trying to break the Island wish causes a headache.

The Universe leads you away from perception, and you can only follow.

My theory that I keep circling around is that through Wish Craft, the Island has been displaced temporally. The denizens of the Island, as well as the Island itself, still exist, but they are in the future. The Island is still loaded into the world, like how equipment is before you try to interact with it, and the Island cannot leave this quantum state, because it never actually went anywhere. The magnitude of the redaction event is so severe with the Island, because it is so much larger as an entity than a sword or a bow. There are of course things I don't really have pieced together, like why somebody would wish the Island into the future, how far into the future it is, or why equipment behaves this way. But it's the only Island theory I've seen that I have some level of confidence in, so I might as well lay out my cards for it.

[justhereforthemeta]

Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight

Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)

This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!

On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.

@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.

Continued below the cut...

Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.

Shax: “You’re in trouble”

A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.

And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.

There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.

1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).

Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:

Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:

And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.

There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball. 

Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.

Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.

For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.

So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.

Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.

But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.

Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché. 

Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. 

And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.

In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.

My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:

is actually this:

Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967: 

whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:

…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:

That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once. 

Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat. 

Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).

Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.

Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution. 

Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.

‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!? 

I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.

(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)

When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.

From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.

This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.

In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.

Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save. 

“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”

[thresholdbb]

what's the threshold theory

There was a post about how Tom is the only crew member who isn't really affected by the Borg, and there's a theory that he has so much luck because he saw the past and the future when he crossed the transwarp threshold. He saw the past and the future, all of time and space. There's some subconscious part of him that remembers that experience. In fact, Tom refused to play a part in Chakotay indulging Annorax's temporal incursions, probably because a part of him knew nothing good could come of it.

If we extend that same theory to Janeway, some of her wild luck with time travel and other crack plans starts to make sense. She doesn't verbally hate time travel until after the events of Threshold, since it happens in Time and Again without complaint. Janeway has an uncanny knack for time travel, as evidenced every time she deals with it. She hates time travel, but it might be because part of her knows exactly how to manipulate the timeline. She manages to avoid the "inevitable" temporal explosion in Future's End, saving both Voyager and Braxton. She resets the entire timeline in Year of Hell, and no one else followed her reasoning. She pulled it off flawlessly. In Relativity, she senses the incidents are all related, despite it being just one reading that connects them. By the time she's involved, she has a temporal incursion factor of .0036 and a time travel protocol named after her, even if that may just be Braxton's personal grudge. Then there's Endgame, where she intentionally changes the timeline. Up until this point, she has been dragged into time travel, but for the first time, she jumps in on purpose. How does Admiral Janeway know how to get them home sooner in a way that completely avoids the Temporal Integrity Commission? It's because she has seen all of time, and part of her knows exactly what needs to happen so she can get Voyager home and do it in a way that becomes baked into the prime timeline. Maybe she doesn't consciously remember what happened during her transformation, but the experience lives in her mind somewhere, guiding her decisions.

[arcticclimes]

Bonus:

[notalostcausejustyet]

Mouseonamoose makes sooooo many good points here. Crowley pushes back, always. But without something to ouch against, he flounders. He needs to find meaning and direction outside of conflict and crisis. That being said, he thrives in chaos and he has a shit ton of motivation both external and internal right now. He’s about to learn a lot about himself and a lot about Aziraphale.

hi nnm! i didn't send the previous ask about post-s2 fic in the demonology universe, but i would genuinely LOVE to see how you imagine crowley processing the events of the final fifteen in session with aubrey. the way he gradually processed the bookshop fire in demonology was really moving, so i can't imagine how demonology!crowley would begin to approach his feelings about aziraphale leaving for heaven at the end of s2, especially because he doesn't have all the answers! i do want to echo the previous anon in expressing my hopes that this isn't coming across as pushy, rather enthusiastic instead. i'm thankful that you choose to share your writing with us! have a lovely weekend!

Yes, I agree! I would love to do this, too. I've been toying with different ways it could go, depending on how we interpret the final 15 and what we anticipate Crowley will be doing at the start of S3. There's just so much we don't know. And I want you to know just how much this grinds at me.

But here's one thing.

I think that Crowley is actually in a better psychological state at the end of S2 than at the beginning.

What is Crowley doing when we first encounter him in S2? He's sitting on a bench, sighing about how pointless everything is. He looks depressed, and it makes sense. He doesn't have anything to do, and Crowley doesn't do well when he doesn't have anything to do. Even worse: he no longer has access to the motivations that previously inspired him to do things. He doesn't have to try to outsmart Hell anymore; he doesn't have to work against the forces of both Good and Evil to establish his own, personal 'side'. He has everything he has ever been able to admit to understand himself as wanting, and it's making him miserable.

By the time that Crowley gets up from the bench in that first scene, he is a lot more animated, a lot less despondent. And, note, there are two things that have happened that can explain this: 1) He has learned that there is Something Going Down In The Up, which of course could imply that he and Aziraphale may be at risk; 2) He sees some guys feeding ducks bread. This is why Crowley manages to shake off that mopey attitude by the time he stands up: both of these are sources of friction. They give him something to act against. Now, he gets to yell at two guys that they're doing something bad--er, wrong--er, harmful-to-ducks. He gets to plot and spy and scheme to learn what's going on in Heaven, despite the fact that clearly the forces involved don't want anyone to know.

Put Crowley in a frictionless environment, filled with endless possibilities and no limits, and watch him just slump down into a puddle of What'sThePoint. Give him friction, though--tell him there's something he can't do, give him a threat to fight against, put him in front of something stupid and wrong--and he comes alive.

It's almost as if, Crowley... Almost as if, uh... By his very nature... I mean... Well, it's almost as if there's something adversarial about him, huh?

In order for Crowley and Aziraphale to get their Happily Ever After, Crowley needs to learn how to act from internal motivation. (Know how he's "always too late"? Yeah, that's what happens when you don't know how to be active but only ever reactive.) After S1, we all liked imagining the two of them retiring to the South Downs and taking up hobbies and being happy... But, am I wrong, or did we all realize that wasn't really possible yet, given how we know both of them to function? The Crowley at the end of S1 and the start of S2 just isn't someone you can imagine actually doing it. Something has to change, in S3, for it to become possible.

This is my take on Crowley, at least: his biggest enemy is boredom. He doesn't know how to avoid it, though, unless there's an externality forcing him to act.

S2 begins with Crowley having nothing to do, and he's miserable and irritable and depressed. S2 ends with Crowley in emotional turmoil, yes, but now he's got plenty of external friction to motivate him. He's got to protect Aziraphale despite Aziraphale now making it so much harder to do, and he's got a Second Coming to stop. This isn't a demon who's at risk of self-harm, or a demon we can imagine is driving off to go take a decades-long nap somewhere. No, what we see at the end of S2 is a demon on a mission. (What is it? What is that mission? Argh, how are we supposed to survive until S3?)

If Crowley hadn't been there, outside the bookshop, when Aziraphale and the Metreon came out, then that would be a different story. I would be absolutely terrified for him, in that case, because I would take that to mean that he's given up. He's stopped fighting against The Plan, he's lost the will to struggle. But, no: he's there. He hasn't given up. He's scheming, and he's planning. Sure, he's boiling with rage and pain and plenty of other hard things, but that's the sort of environment where he knows how to thrive.

Does he need therapy at the end of S2? Oh yes. Oh hell yes. But he's functioning how he knows best how to function, and he's got plenty of motivation to keep going.

[sentientsky]

i know this has been discussed ad nauseam, but i'm doing research for a meta, and i'm slowly realizing that i will never ever be over the Good Omens Lockdown dialogue. especially that line towards the end (begins at the 02:50 minute mark):

Crowley: [...] You know, I could hunker down at your place; slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle—a case—of something...drinkable?

first, the unabashed expression of a desire to be near Aziraphale is so rarely evident (i mean, we have 1967 and other instances, but in the case of '67, an outsider could more easily—i guess??—interpret offering him a lift home as an expression of gratitude for the holy water). so, to witness his clear, unveiled desire for comfort and closeness (and to literally just watch Aziraphale eat cake) demonstrates the interpersonal progress made in the time after Armageddon't; he's not concealing the offer behind some flimsily-constructed reason (e.g., "I just didn't want to see you embarrass yourself"). in fact, he's implying that they'd be spending long lengths of time together ("hunker down", "a case of something drinkable"). and then Aziraphale's response is also really interesting, and kind of exists as a microcosm of their whole push-and-pull dynamic that has existed for literally thousands of years (begins at the 02:59 minute mark):

Aziraphale: No, I—I—I—I’m afraid that would be breaking all the rules! Out of the question! I’ll see you… when… this is over?

i'm sorry, but the sheer nervousness???? the grasping for excuses??? they're gay disasters, ur honour. breaks my fucking heart </3 i love them both, but also OUGH. azi, why?!?

[not-equippedforthis]

holmes and watson as the sun and moon respectively because holmes is a burning, eccentric force of nature who collapses like a dying star when his mind seizes him, because watson is a solid rock who provides the stone for holmes to lean against and reflects his light by documenting the cases and righting holmes' thought process and scattered bearings. holmes as the light that comes back into watson's life after he's been stripped of hope and forced to wander around london's dark streets without any friends or familiar faces to support him. watson as the calm, ever-present soldier who is capable of burning with equal intensity but is often underestimated in his power because he isnt as outwardly flashy as the sun. holmes as the sun because he does everything with passion, with an inward intensity, watson as the moon because he has the same power but with softer lights, not blinding but glowing, calming. holmes and watson as the sun and moon because they will always be said in conjugation with each other. they belong as one. holmes as the sun because he is the light and watson as the moon is his conductor of light. holmes as the burning sun and watson as the shining moon- do you. do you understand.

[orphiclovers]

Secretive Plotter voice appreciation post.

He makes it a habit to speak in his 'true voice' 99% of the time, so we get a lot of descriptions of it  - it's very distinctive.

Kim Dokja calls it 'sharp and clear' the first time he hears it.

Sun Wukong is less complementary and says it's 'insidious-sounding' - both descriptions give the impression it's a grating and harsh sound to the ears.

It makes sense - he's an Outer God, after all. Usually the effect hearing their voice has is bleeding from your ears and terror - unless you're sufficently powerful to withstand the effects.

And despite that Secretive Plotter very delibaretly choses to speak in his 'true voice' anyway, a little bit as an intimidation tactic but mostly as part of his artificial persona of 'frightening Outer God called Secretive Plotter.' And so no one forgets what he is for even a second, not even himself.

But then of course the fearsome illusion shatters when he drops the voice whenever children are around. There are only two times we ever hear his real voice - not so coincidentally, the only times when he's not pretending to be the 'Secretive Plotter' but is instead just 'himself'.

The first time, for a brief moment when he talks to Yoo Mia. The switch is never called out, even though Yoo Joonghyuk's narration notices it. And Secretive Plotter doesn't point it out either, because he does it automatically and without thinking - because it would never occur to him to hurt or frighten a child on purpose, no matter how villanous he is acting.

Most significantly he tells the honest truth here, to both Yoo Mia and Yoo Joonghyuk. But it doesn't last and then the next sentence after he puts Yoo Mia to sleep he's back to 'true voice'.

The second time we hear his real voice is here.

Again, he's speaking to a little kid here and at the same time dropping the 'Secretive Plotter' persona - for the final time. During the rest of this scene he never goes back to speaking in the 'true voice', even though the rest of the 999th turns outer gods do - Oldest Dream can obviously handle it, but it means something different to Secretive Plotter to speak in his real voice, he only does it when he's being entirely honest and candid - when he's not keeping up appearences. And he was definitely brutally honest during this whole conversation.

(It's also interesting that despite it being called a 'true voice' it's often very much the opposite. It's a lie for Secretive Plotter, a mask he wears, as I pointed out in this post - but also for Kim Dokja too, in the same exact way. Kim Dokja only uses it to intimidate his enemies (for example, when he was defending Yoo Joonghyuk from Asmodeus) or paint himself as someoen frightening, irredeamable, inhuman (when he was trying to convince Anna Croft he was evil and no better than any other constellation). In this, Secretive Plotter and Kim Dokja are exactly the same - except the Plotter has done it longer and gotten used to keeping up the facade at all times, whereas Kim Dokja speaks in his real voice most of the time.)

[quinn-pop]

something about learning, idk

[originalaccountname]

Uhh i just finish stormbringer and i didnt quite understood Rimlaine relationship im sorry if this comes off as annoying its just that i read some of your analysis and you explain thing very good, thanks in advance 💗

Their relationship is complicated and contradictory. Ultimately, their lack of communication (both in talking and listening) dug a hole so deep between them that they both had to die before it was fixed.

I'm gonna attempt a timeline to break it down, so you can see what happened. This got way too long despite my best efforts so I'm putting it under a cut:

At an undisclosed time, Rimbaud, a spy/special agent working for France, goes to defeat a mad scientist and ability user, Pan. Pan had created a sort of puppet, named Black No12, who could manipulate gravity and obeyed him blindly. Rimbaud managed to cut the link between them, and Black No12 turned against and killed his creator and master.

Rimbaud took Black No12 under his wing as a fellow spy for France. He trained him and made him his partner. He gave him a name, his name from before he changed his identity to become a spy: Paul Verlaine.

Rimbaud wanted the formerly brainwashed person he found to be independent. Despite his origins, Rimbaud wanted Verlaine to feel human. He was his friend and wanted him to be happy.

Verlaine, on the other hand, was haunted by not being or feeling human. He felt lonely and isolated, and Rimbaud pushing so hard to make him feel human only rubbed salt in the wound. But he didn't tell Rimbaud any of that.

Rimbaud gave Verlaine the hat right before their operation in Japan to retrieve project Arahabaki. The hat had a special ability alloy woven into it meant to make sure no outside instructions could be used to brainwash him again. That was Rimbaud trying to guaranty Verlaine complete agency, one step closer to making him human. This was only a grim reminder of what he was to Verlaine. After the lukewarm reception of his gift, Rimbaud starts to feel permanently cold.

When they got (what they thought was) the artificial human from Project Arahabaki out of the lab, Verlaine was taken by the Bungou Stray Dogs curse of seeing yourself in other people and wanting to save them to save yourself. Verlaine told Rimbaud he was taking the child and going into hiding to raise him as a normal human being, to protect the child from the same pain he felt. Rimbaud, who hadn't realized how his dear friend suffered, still didn't understand and tried to reason with Verlaine that they couldn't possibly turn their backs to their home, and that the child would still be with them in France.

This poor communication resulted in Verlaine feeling trapped and choosing to shoot his only friend in the back. They fought and Rimbaud got the upper hand before he got surrounded by the lab's guards and desperately tried to use Arahabaki to defeat them too. This ended in the Suribachi incident and his loss of memory. Verlaine still had enough strength to stop Arahabaki/Chuuya's rampage before vanishing who knows where.

Fast forward 8 years, Fifteen happens, with Rimbaud, now permanently cold, who got some of his memories back. Rimbaud wants to know more than anything what happened to his partner and friend all those years ago, and is even willing to kill Chuuya (and Dazai) for it. As he dies, he remembers what happened that night while they were escaping, and how Verlaine chose to shoot him in the back over Chuuya. He tells Chuuya that he was probably human all along, and to live no matter what, before vanishing into thin air.

One year later, and Verlaine has found Chuuya and decided to try again to take him so they can be lonely together. He's trying to both isolate and protect Chuuya in a twisted sense of responsibility and kinship (and the power of projection). When Verlaine finally loses himself to Guivre, he manages to tell Chuuya about how he stopped Arahabaki 9 years ago in Suribachi so Chuuya could do it to him now. Chuuya understands from this that Verlaine might have felt lonely and oh so bitter about the world, that he might have hated his existence, but he had found friendship in Rimbaud and wished to save the world in his name. One person had been worth it, so he couldn't just destroy it all.

After the fight is over, Verlaine is dying from Guivre's energy having been depleted by Chuuya's efforts. As he dies, Rimbaud appears: Rimbaud has created a singularity with his own ability at the time of his death, maintaining his mind alive in his subspace by absorbing himself as his ability on loop. He's like the Old Boss was in Fifteen, just a puppet, not a human... but he's still Rimbaud. And Rimbaud wanted his friend to live and be happy.

Rimbaud apologizes for not understanding Verlaine's struggle with humanity and incidentally handling it badly. Then, he passed on his ability, now a singularity, onto Verlaine to replace Guivre as his source of life: a lot less powerful, but enough to keep him going. Rimbaud tells him he's glad Verlaine was born because he got to meet him, and disappears for good.

Verlaine realized then, way too late, that he really cared about Rimbaud. Rimbaud spent a whole year as something that wasn't human just for the chance of seeing Verlaine again and apologize to him. That got to Verlaine too. Since then, he's been hiding in the Port Mafia's basement, uncaring of the world, and mourning his friend and the friendship he passed by without knowing.

In the shortest, in-novel words possible:

[jaguarys]

On the note of the snippet I posted. Ultimately what makes me go batshit insane about the Sith is that it's truly not about the magic of it all. It's about people being hurt and hurting others in turn.

What it is to become a Sith is to enmesh yourself, forever, in pain. It's at the very forefront of the doctrine, but even ignoring the mentality of it, on the basest level it is about physical and emotional pain. In agreeing to be an apprentice, you're agreeing to years of torture. You're agreeing to anything your master chooses to subject you to; they themselves have suffered as you have and they're chomping at the bit to inflict it upon you too. They have convinced themselves this pain has made them strong, but it has only made them vindictive.

Becoming a Sith is not about becoming powerful. It's about surviving the sheer horror of the training itself and convincing yourself survival is the same as control, that it's the same as power. It's about taking the seething, burning hatred you feel for the person who has tortured you and passing it onto your student, and repeating this for centuries. It's about licking your own wounds, not only the physical but those of centuries of disgraced Sith before you, hiding in the shadiest corners of the galaxy with no one but the person you hate most and believe you owe everything to.

The Sith are fundamentally pathetic, fundamentally impotent, fundamentally miserable, and it simply cannot be extricated from the mess of it all

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

See, I think Charles’ annoyance and frustration with the Cat King really was just pure protectiveness and not any kind of jealousy - it’s understandable, because Edwin is not telling him what happened even though something clearly did, which is not typical for them. Edwin doesn’t usually hide things like this! Of course he’s worried!

Charles’ reaction to Monty, on the other hand, is difficult to explain in a way that isn’t jealousy. You could say he’s being protective again, but Charles shows no sign of distrust in Monty, and had no idea of who Monty was or that he might betray them - he was actually very chill with him, except in a select few specific scenes. You could say he just doesn’t like him because he got brushed off during their first meeting, but not only does that not seem like Charles at all, it also doesn’t make sense, since, again, in most instances, Charles is genuinely friendly and is happy when Monty compliments him and seems to have come around to liking him (it completely flies over his head that this is a petty jab at Edwin on Monty’s part but oh well hahaha). You could say it changes up their status quo a bit and that bothers Charles. I do think this bothers him a bit, but I think, unlike Edwin, Charles’ fear and frustration here is directed more at situations (the Cat King whisking him away for several hours, as an example) than others. He’s sociable and likes being able to talk to new people. There’s absolutely no way he’d begrudge Edwin doing the same - and he doesn’t… with Niko. Edwin and Niko hit it off and become very close and that never bothers Charles at all. He’s incredibly endeared to her, just like the rest, and for the most part, he’s chill with Monty too, and smiles pretty knowingly when Edwin confesses to him having awakened some feelings. The only exceptions, where he shows definite annoyance, are when Monty first shows up and gets really in Edwin’s personal space to show him the astrology chart he made, and when Edwin is so sucked into the book Monty gave him that he doesn’t hear that Charles is talking to him, to which he annoyedly says that they seem to have been “spending a lot of time together”.

You could say he’s unused to having anyone get in Edwin’s personal space like that, but, again, Niko. She’s very tactile with him and he doesn’t seem to mind all that much; they spend time together watching things. If it was just someone getting close with Edwin in general, not only would that be weirdly possessive for the character, but it would also mean he would show discomfort with anyone getting close, I think. Does Charles see Monty as more of a potential threat than Niko, seeing as he knows her and her personality and doesn’t know Monty? Well, maybe, but again, Charles shows no sign of distrusting Monty at all.

Monty is a boy. Okay. So something about seeing Edwin so close to a boy that is not him, getting lost in thought over something this boy gave him, really rubs Charles the wrong way. Charles appears to catch on just as quickly as anyone else that there is something (or it looks like something) between Edwin and Monty. He is not surprised when Edwin comes out to him in episode 6, and in fact, seems to have just been waiting for him to verbalize it. He smiles and is not bothered at all by Edwin showing (what he thinks is) a romantic interest in Monty - he just doesn’t like it when Monty clearly shows a romantic interest in Edwin. Um. Well. Well.

Charles is jealous. I really don’t know what else to say.

Look, when I first watched this show, I actually didn’t want them to end up together romantically - I love the idea of one having fallen in love with another who does not reciprocate and the two of them still loving each other just as much. That Edwin’s confession made them closer instead of making things awkward is such a beautiful outcome to this build up and I absolutely love it. However. On my two rewatches, I caught a lot more little details, and I think it would be very strange if the show did not follow up on this. That, plus the deliberate quality of these “jealousy” moments where the camera focuses on him, Charles’ Orpheus coding throughout the show, the fact that Edwin’s arc was far more about realizing his feelings for Charles specifically than just coming to terms with his sexuality, and that even the actors admit that Charles’ response to the confession kind of left things open, it really seems to me like the path leads to a romantic endgame for them, or at the very least, that this possibility will be explored in more depth.

**This is just my reading of it. Please do not use this post as a gotcha for anyone who loves them as a platonic duo or people who really love Crystal and Charles together (because let’s face it, they’re super cute too). I’m just doing my rambles. As per usual.

[vickyvicarious]

It's kind of striking how Jonathan already is expressing doubts and fears, he isn’t ignorant of what situation he might be in, but when the Count gives him food and a bed, he dismisses these fears as his mind playing tricks.

The warm hearth, the meal, all this transferred him from the darkness and the snarling, howling wolves outside, to the light and the safety of Castle.

So Jonathan stepping from the outside, is trembling, shocked, but now this powerful old man is giving him a warm fire, security, and food. He's now putty in his hands.

In retrospect then, Dracula manipulates Jonathan from the beginning, putting him in grave danger, and leaving him alone in the cold and surrounded by wolves. Later, he plays the kind host, providing Jonathan with food and shelter. Jonathan is now like a grateful puppy, completely dependent on Dracula for his basic needs, but he is unable to recognize this due to the carefully orchestrated emotional roller coaster Dracula has just put him through.

From the start, Dracula is doing textbook abusive, gaslighting codependent tricks to manipulate Jonathan, one could say...

I feel like as readers, it can be easy to dismiss just how easy it would be for characters to dismiss their fears and doubts once somewhere warm and well lit. Unless someone is truly already a believer in the supernatural, anyone would probably try to talk themself down, just because... well, the idea seems kind of silly, doesn't it? Sure, there were scary stuff happening, but - really, my host is impersonating his own coach driver? Why? Spontaneous fires in the woods that can be seen through a solid human form? Wolves that are driven off by a commanding gesture alone? What kind of ghost story is this? Jonathan sticks to his guns fairly well, being firm about what he's certain he did see, but he admits to having fears and doubts he's not going to mention because they aren't logical, they're fearful speculation about things that for the most part, probably are things he's always considered impossible.

So, yeah. Leaving Jonathan outside in the courtyard alone for a while, to really marinate in his fear and distress at realizing he's trapped alone, surrounded by wolves and who knows what else, and has no idea where to go to seek help... by doing so, Dracula not only has time to run around and take off his disguise, but he primes Jonathan to see his invitation inside as a welcome relief. At least it's better than being exposed to the threats outside. (Though interestingly, it seems it still took several invitations before Jonathan actually came all the way in.) It's setting Dracula himself up as a welcome savior. He brings Jonathan inside, out of the cold and dark to somewhere well-lit and warm. He feeds him, he's courteous and friendly, he shares Mr. Hawkins' praise with him. Jonathan gets to smoke a cigar and relax a bit. He gets to tell the whole story to an interested audience. * Of course he feels better than before. And it's thanks to Dracula. Dracula is the one who can protect him from all that scariness out there, who can make him feel comfortable again. It's a good way to build trust and influence quickly, by positioning himself as a friend/protector.

But Dracula can't restrain himself. He pushes too much, too soon, and Jonathan feels rightfully creeped out:

As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal. The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with a grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his protuberant teeth, sat himself down again on his own side of the fireplace. We were both silent for a while; and as I looked towards the window I saw the first dim streak of the coming dawn. There seemed a strange stillness over everything; but as I listened I heard as if from down below in the valley the howling of many wolves.

As soon as Dracula touches Jonathan, he feels repulsed. Part of this may be some kind of instinctive reaction to Dracula's supernatural nature. Maybe it's related to the memory of how incredibly strong his grip was earlier. Maybe it's simply because Dracula is being an overfamiliar creep - that would be plenty of reason on its own. (And I'm sure his terrible breath doesn't help matters.) But regardless, Dracula hasn't established enough trust between them here for Jonathan to welcome this touch. And he's not quite established a fearful enough power dynamic for Jonathan to force himself to accept the touch. Politeness is the only reason Jonathan doesn't move away, but his feelings are made obvious by his shudder.

Dracula pulls back, tries to play it off, but they still fall into a silence that is clearly a lot less comfortable than before. And the atmosphere around them reflects the sudden distance too: Jonathan notices dawn coming (presaging a physical separation as well, but also Dracula's power waning right after this blunder lessens his emotional power over Jonathan). Eerie elements creep back in: Dracula's frustrated smile shows his teeth more than all his deliberately charming ones have done before. Wolves are howling, which pleases Dracula and upsets Jonathan - the final exchange which they have before Dracula sends Jonathan off to bed, and one which seems to bring Jonathan right back to a much more distressed state of mind as he relives the night's experiences over again.

Dracula spoils his own fun a little bit here, because he puts Jonathan back on guard. And I think it's clear he's a little annoyed at himself for it. He finds Jonathan so interesting/enticing that he's having difficulty playing a long game. At least a part of him wants to jump right in to more intimate/threatening actions, and though he mostly restrains himself, the mask still slips and his victim notices. Which is lucky, as Jonathan needs that guard up to keep himself safe.

* I just realized that Jonathan does say that he "told [Dracula] by degrees all [he] had experienced" on his journey. I hope to god that doesn't include him mentioning the crucifix lady's gift with any kind of specificity, or else I fear very much for her life.