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noneorother · 6 months

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Oh my god, season 2 is The Tales of Crowley Hoffmann

I guess this has to be a series now too. Part 1 l Part 2

When Aziraphale wants to perform a show-stopping magic trick in S2E4, he is shown the "Professor's Nightmare," a rope trick, and references "Prof Hoff himself" at the end of the minisode.

Because we love double meanings so much around here, I decided to actually watch the Powell & Pressburger epic opera film "The Tales of Hoffmann," assuming it was the another P&P easter egg and the other Hoffmann (not the magician) that was being referenced.

One, this movie is unhinged. Two, this season IS The Tales of Hoffmann. Allow me to explain...

There are shot for shot quotes literally everywhere throughout the season.

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Hoffmann watches Stella perform) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Clerk in Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia, Hoffman & Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Crowley & Aziraphale"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Giulietta Banquet scene) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Banquet scene" *By the way Hoffmann wears a goatee for this tale

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue "Dragonfly dance") & Good Omens Season 2 Prologue "Before the Beginning" *This is Stella and un unknown devil drangonfly, NOT Hoffmann

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (End credits through Hoffman's glasses) & Good Omens Season 2 end credit scene.

Stella & Aziraphale. This one makes me laugh.

There are SO MANY MORE, but tumblr has an image limit. Seriously, it's nuts.

2. It seems simple and straightforward, but it's not at all

" Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (...) was in some way an admission(...) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film, combining visual and musical elements, that it has still not been fully appreciated... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made. What makes the film so remarkable is a series of paradoxes: the fact that it virtually reinvented the freedom and fantasy of silent cinema while making full use of Technicolor and a stellar cast of dancers and singers..." - Criterion, The lives of marionettes

3. The structure of the story is the same as the show

Here is the story of the Movie** (Not really the Opera that inspired it) In the prologue, we see the dance of the dragonflies onstage at a ballet. Count Lindoff (very bad dude) is spying on both the principal dancer Stella, and the audience member Hoffmann (who's admiring her). Lindoff is behind the scenery. During her dance, Stella passes a love note to her assistant for Hoffmann. The bad dude intercepts it out of jealousy. During the intermission, Hoffmann goes down to the tavern next door, watched by his sort of buddy in red, Nicklaus. People ask him to tell stories to while away the time, and so he tells 3 stories (actually four but we'll get back to that).

We launch into 3 tales/minisodes in other times and places : 1. The Tale of the Ball of the Automaton where he falls in love with a robot. He is humiliated. 2. The tale of Venice (Giulietta) where he falls in love with a courtesan/double agent who crosses him. 3. The tale of Antonia, where he falls in love with a girl who feels trapped by her living dad, her dead mom and a mysterious bad dude (Lindoff). She is murdered in a ring of fire, but becomes a ghost and is resurrected and sent back to earth. At the end, we snap back to the tavern in the real world. Hoffmann reveals that these three women are all metaphors for how he feels about Stella, his true love. He's drunk and depressed now, thinking she never sent for him after the show. Stella arrives in the tavern looking for Hoffmann, ready to run away, but now accompanied by Lindoff (dressed as an angelic figure) who followed her. She looks to Hoffmann to save her, but he's too blinded by the fact that he doesn't think she loves him back to pick up on the signal. He gives up, and she goes back up the stairs guided by Lindoff. Her assistant (who was bribed by Lindoff at the beginning) is given the go ahead by Lindoff to go back to the tavern and taker over. They close the door to the tavern, while she walks up ethereal stairs with the bad dude. THE END.

The one story that doesn't fit into the minisodes and is told in the real world is Kleinzach. We understand by the end of this one that this is Hoffmann's self loathing about never being good enough for Stella, because Stella is perfect and Hoffmann is ugly and deformed. The main love interest attempts to steal Kleinzach's essence through a mirror by the end. 4. Powell & Pressburger recast four actors in new roles In The Tales of Hoffmann, P&P decided to recast four of the principal actors/dancers from the film The Red Shoes in new roles, wanting to recreate the magic that they brought to the first ballet film. Sound familiar?

5. Crowley is Hoffmann

"The Tales of Hoffmann" original 1881 costume concept for Hoffmann & Crowley costume sketch for S2E3 1827 Edinburgh. Glasses are a really important aspect for Hoffmann in both the opera and the movie versions of The Tales of Hoffmann. Hoffmann is gifted metaphorical magic glasses that he wears to be able to perceive his love in a way they aren't really in real life. In the opera, he wears dark glasses to shut out the real world, not just as a metaphor. Check out a modern day version of the opera's Hoffmann costume :

He's french and slamming a beer but you get it. Crowley also canonically loves watching movies. It would make so much sense that his minisode recountings with him and Aziraphale would resemble different styles of movie that he loves. Seeing as we see him drive away at the end as the last character, an argument could be made for him being the ultimate narrator of the story in season 2.

6. The original American release of The Tales of Hoffman had 14ish minutes cut out of it by the studio. So we all know by now that whole debacle about having the clocks jump 14-15ish minutes during the kiss?

"The Tales of Hoffmann found an audience far wider than expected, despite Korda’s misgivings about the movie’s running time and his decision to cut 14 minutes out of the film for its American release." - Criterion, The Tales of Hoffman

I have been unable to unearth what the difference between the American & British versions of the P&P Tales of Hoffmann is, if you know let ME know. I want to know! _____________________________________

And I HAVE SO MUCH MORE. This is long enough already so I'll save the more detailed stuff for a new post.

**The opera is a whole other beast. You can read about it here, but basically there's a lot more going on in the opera because the composer died before finishing it, and multiple versions exist after the original uncompleted score got lost IN A FIRE. Anyway. Here's part 2

#good omens meta #good omens season two #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #good omens 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #go2 #crowley x aziraphale #anthony j crowley #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley and aziraphale

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stay-mon-army · 6 months

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Daydream Kisses

Word Count: 4,040 words

Warning(s): Self-doubt, pining, like one swear word, angst (I really need some healing and OPLA Sanji is giving it to me)

Pairing: Sanji x GN!reader

After the conversation you had with Sanji, your life on the Going Merry couldn’t possibly have been any better. You felt calmer around Sanji, able to simply enjoy the company he was willing to provide. You spent time with all of the crew, laughing and drinking and making memories, but you spent the most time by far with the chef.

You were able to ignore the teasing looks and whispers most of the crew gave you when they noticed you spending so much time with the cook. You knew what they thought – you had heard it all from Nami, but you weren’t going to let them goad you into thinking bad thoughts again. After all, your conversation with Sanji had cleared it all up, you were feeling good about spending time with the chef in whatever capacity made the both of you happy.

However, your mind never could totally shut off.

One night, you lie awake, tossing and turning as you think over and over all the little things that happen between you and Sanji. You had sworn you wouldn’t think about what Nami had said to you that fateful morning, but you couldn’t help it.

Be with Sanji? Was that something you wanted? What would that be like?

Your mind wandered off, imagining the lovely life you could have with the chef. You already spent hours beside him, talking, working quietly beside each other, sharing quips and teasing glances and gentle touches. When you went into town with him to shop for groceries for the next voyage, he would often grasp your hand in his, ensuring you didn’t get separated in the crowded markets. He would lean into the counter to watch you while you talked, and he would always watch you closely, eyes dancing between your eyes and your lips as he let you try a taste of his newest recipe. He would pull you into a hug whenever you shared something even a little sad, like the time you saw a really pretty dragonfly get eaten by a flying fish. He was always right beside you during any dangerous moments, putting himself between you and the perceived danger.

What more would change, truly, if you were to tell Sanji you liked him?

Well for starters, he might kiss you. You imagined telling him, whispering your feelings to him one day in the kitchen, playing with your hands in a way you hope shows your excitement and your fear in equal measure. He would grin that beautiful breath-taking smile, like the world was opening up to swallow you whole. He would reach out for you, his hands resting against your elbows, then sliding up, up, up until one held your back and the other looped into your hair. He would pull himself ever closer, tilting your head to angle towards him, his lips coming down to just a hairs-breadth away. His breath would smell like mint and tobacco, ghosting against your lips as he breathed out a quiet, “may I, my love?” And the shiver your body gave in response would be all he needed before he dipped down and pressed your lips together in a slow, sweet kiss like you had never imagined.

Yeah, that would change things.

But there were some things you wouldn’t mind changing between you both.

You could imagine coaxing him from the kitchen after a long day of cooking, the contented, tired look in his eyes that he gets after another successful day full of recipes. Your hands would tug his, leading him out to the deck, where you would find the comfiest spot. You would lay down beside him there, on the deck, underneath the star-dusted sky, watching the way the world rocked from the waves lapping against the sides of the boat. You’d curl into his arms, your head resting against his shoulder as he held you, letting you point out particularly bright stars or what you imagined to be the constellations. You’d talk about your days, even though you spent most of it together; you’d talk about the future, dreaming of what would happen when you found the One Piece and the All Blue together. You wouldn’t be able to resist reaching up to press kisses against his collarbone, neck, cheek, lips, loving the way he melted into your touches, letting you do whatever you wanted because he just loved you this close so much. You could see yourself falling asleep like that, tucked underneath a blanket, wrapped in the chef’s warmth and comforting scent, drifting into a dream-filled sleep with thoughts of Sanji in your head.

Let’s just say sleep was hard to find when you thought of what you might want, how that might change things.

Some nights, you would wander out onto the deck, enjoying the sea breeze in the hopes it would chase away your aggressive thoughts. You hated that you worried so much – you had gotten better in some ways at dealing with your crazy thoughts since talking to Sanji, but in others you had become a total mess. You didn’t worry about your interactions with Sanji, but man, the moment you thought about your internal feelings? All hell broke loose and you hated every minute of it.

Tonight was one such night where your hammock and the darkness of your bedroom seemed like a war zone of battling desires. You hadn’t been afraid of the dark in years, but suddenly the moonlight created shadows of the blond chef, making you wish he was beside you in ways that sent shivers down your back.

You breathed in deep of the salty spray, staring up at the sparkling expanse above. Nothing settled you quite as much as the stars – they were soothing in their silent watchfulness, observing without judgment, taking in the lives of everyone below without malice or opinion. They wouldn’t comment on your wild thoughts, your deep-seated worries, your hopes and desires. They would simply watch, stand witness to the life you lead, beside you through all of it. The stars never leave.

You almost miss the tell-tale tapping of dress shoes across the deck, your mind too distant racing among the stars.

“Why are you awake so late, darling? You’ll catch your death out here in the cold.” Sanji drapes his coat across your shoulders, smoothing the sleeves against your arms before moving to stand beside you. The gentle press of his hands against your arms, even through the fabric of your shirt and his jacket, brings back the thoughts you had come out to avoid and you tried to blink away the embarrassing heat that courses through your body at the feeling.

“Couldn’t sleep, is all.” You say, pinching the edge of the jacket between your forefinger, middle, and thumb to tug it closer around your body. You don’t look over at the man beside you, afraid to meet his gaze after the thoughts that had been devouring your consciousness for the past few hours. “What are you doing up?”

“I had to prep for breakfast tomorrow. I was thinking of making a quiche with some breakfast potatoes.” You smiled, nodding to yourself. Of course, what other reason could he have for being awake. “If you’d like, I could make you some tea to help you fall asleep, my dear. I would hate to leave you with a restless night.”

You shake your head, finally looking over at the blond. He’s watching you with kind, gentle eyes. He wasn’t worried or anything, just attentive – paying attention to your needs and asks of him with precision. “I don’t think tea will do much.” Making jokes was the only way you could deal with the thoughts running through your head.

Sanji raises his eyebrow, smiling at you with that comforting look still gracing his eyes. “What could I do to assist you in sleep, my love? Perhaps you’d like to talk about what’s keeping you awake?”

You flush, quickly looking away, laughing awkwardly at the clear sign you just gave. You raise a hand to rub at the skin of your face, hoping it will make the blood go away and save you from your embarrassing moment.

“I don’t know. I don’t think that will fix much either. Might just make it worse.” You mumble, looking back up at the stars, wishing you could be scooped into the moon’s cold embrace.

“Would you rather I leave you alone then?” You turn quickly to face him, nearly losing the suit jacket draped over your shoulders before you clutch it closer to your body, like it will keep Sanji beside you longer.

“No! No, please stay. I don’t think being alone will fix much either.” You smile up at the chef, who is grinning widely down at you as well. You knew he loved hearing you tell him to stay, telling him that you wanted him around. You have a feeling he likes hearing it even more than you do.

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me.” You sigh, settling yourself down onto the deck, laying down with his jacket wrapped around you so you could look up to the sky. Sanji hesitates for a moment, before sitting down beside you, watching you quietly.

He sits with his arms back to brace against the deck, one leg extended, the other bent to point to the stars. You can’t help the small peeking glances you steal from the corner of your eye as you try not to think about how close this was to some of your daydreams. You try, but fail, to ignore the way the silence hangs suspended but soothing around you both, like a warm blanket; the way that you’re so close, you would only have to reach out your hand and you could be touching him, nearly a hand-span away from contact; the way you can see every lock of blond hair falling over his shoulder as he tips his head back to also stare at the stars.

“Like something you see, darling?” You blush, looking away even though you had already been caught. He chuckles softly, looking over at you and smiling. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what kept you up?”

You breathe deeply, debating with yourself for a moment. One the one hand, you trust Sanji. You know he wouldn’t judge you; he had never judged you. He was so kind, always offering you comfort and understanding in all things – never expecting anything but your honesty. You knew he would take anything you had to say to him in stride, never once faltering in his devotion to being caring and compassionate. On the other, you were terrified of what your thoughts might mean. The ways in which your relationship might change if the words were spoken aloud. You never wanted to lose that comfort that Sanji had to offer, and the thought that he might change his view of you scared you. You worried that there would be new expectations, new understandings, new problems to arise with the brief mention of your desire to kiss and hold the blond chef. The last thing you wanted was change. Right?

So why did your mouth open and your tongue begin to form words? Why did you spill out the inner secrets you had kept hidden for weeks after the incident with Nami?

“I just recently have been thinking about what Nami said, about us being a thing. I never really thought of it before she said it – we’re just friends, I like being like that with you, but I don’t see any problem with friends acting the way we do. But at the same time, now that Nami mentioned it, I can’t stop thinking if I might want something more. At night is the worst, when I’m alone after spending all day with you, I just can’t stop my mind from making these new ideas. These new scenarios where I get to hold you, hold your hands, curl up against you,” you hesitate before whispering, “kiss you.” You throw your head back to rest against the deck, staring up at the twinkling night expanse above to avoid the look you know will be gracing Sanji’s face. He’s a flirt through and through, you know that he’s going to love the idea, even if he only ever said he was okay with being friends. He wasn’t going to take this admission without a little outward joy and playful teasing. “And the worst part is I don’t know what I want so I haven’t said anything and just held it all in. Because if I say this and then decide that I don’t really want things to change, then I’ve led you on and that’s wrong. But if I say this and then do something about it, everything will change and I might still lose you. But if I keep it all inside, I won’t lose you – you never have to know and I can pretend like nothing is wrong and I can just keep that all inside. It doesn’t hurt anybody in there. It just takes away a little bit of my sleep, and I’m okay with that as long as I’m still able to have you in my life.”

You roll your head to the side to finally glance at the man who you had just poured your heart out to for what felt like the millionth time since you’ve met him. It was getting easier and easier to share your inner fears and thoughts with him, the more you did it. As though the beginning was a dam cracking, opening up so that the water could seep out and flood through his river, releasing your pressure to share the load with him. It felt nice, you couldn’t lie.

He simply stared at you, an unreadable look on his face before he sighs, nodding, looking down at the deck.

“Okay, darling, that was a lot to process.” You had never seen him so stoic, so calm. Especially after you shared about your feelings, you weren’t used to him not simply bursting into action, face and body nearly splitting open at the sheer excitement at hearing your feelings, about him or otherwise. Usually emotions were Sanji’s forte so you couldn’t figure out why he seemed so withdrawn today.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just dumped that on you. It isn’t fair for me to unburden myself like that on you – you’ve always been there for me and I’m just always so ready to share my thoughts and feelings and I never stopped to think how all this might make you feel. That was so selfish of me, I-”

“Don’t call yourself selfish.” The cold edge to his voice makes you freeze. Where was your flirty, playful Sanji?

“What?” You watch his face carefully, see the way his eyebrows furrow and his mouth dips down in the corners – the closest you’ve ever seen it to a frown. His eyes come up to look at you and there’s a depth there you haven’t seen before. As though all this time, there was a wall hiding his deeper mind away from you.

“Don’t ever call yourself selfish. You went out of your way, worrying about how I would feel or what I would say to your feelings, so much so that you lost sleep over it. You took into consideration everyone else’s thoughts and feelings and ignored how this all hurt you, bothered you. You were willing to let it continue to bother you until I made you say something. You are anything but selfish, and anyone who says otherwise is ignorant. You are the most selfless person I know.” His eyes are hard, as though he’s trying to convince you with his look alone. You nearly crack under his gaze, but you nod anyway, showing you understand what he’s saying.

His shoulders loosen at the sight, his eyes softening to a look of endearment as he looks at you.

“Now, I’ve said this before, but I will continue to say it, however many times it takes for you to believe me. I will be anything you need from me, my love. I can be your friend, your confidante, your lover; anything you want from me. All you have to do is say the word. I won’t leave you, you won’t lose me because of a change in feelings. Unless you tell me to go, I’m here, until the ends of the Earth.” He reaches out a hand, brushing back a piece of hair off your face. “The way I care for you can’t be put into words. You’re a god amongst men, a divine revelation of the true beauty of humanity at its core, you show the warmth of kindness and the darkness of fear and you do it all with the poise and delicacy of a butterfly in flight – you have never been anything less that magical, and to be in your life has been an honor I could never imagine finding anywhere else.”

You swallow against the lump growing in your throat, hoping that the burning in your eyes is because you’re tired and not because you’re about to cry in front of Sanji right now. You’d heard him say things like this before – Sanji was known for his kind words. But for some reason, hearing them now, you wanted to sob in relief. He didn’t have to say those nice words about you; he didn’t even need to care about your stupid feelings and listen to you complain and worry about why you can’t sleep.

Sanji sits up, opening up his arms for you as he whispers, “come here, love” and you can’t stop yourself from dragging your body over to curl into his arms.

Hugging Sanji, or in this case, Sanji hugging you, wasn’t an uncommon occurrence – you both were very affectionate people, so you were never shy about being close with any of the crew before. Yet somehow, this time felt different. His arms pulled you close, squeezing you against him as though he was pressing all your pieces back together, bringing you into his body as a shield where you could become complete again. His hands rested flat against your back, fingertips just digging into the skin as though he was afraid you might be pulled from his grasp if he wasn’t careful.

The scent of Sanji enveloped you; cooking oil, cigarettes, something else just distinctly him. You never could quite place that scent. You breathed it in, closing your eyes to the world as you relax into Sanji’s embrace. He rests his head against the top of yours, his lips pressing against your hair.

“Now, as for your confession.” You take a deep breath, not quite sure where this was going to go. “I don’t think I need to tell you again how dedicated I am to you, sweetheart. I would be honored to love you in any capacity you would like to have me. However, you have to make that decision – I am not going to pressure you any way. You can tell me exactly what you want from me, when you want it from me. You can change your mind at any time, I won’t hold it against you. Ever.” His voice was strong, confident, everything you weren’t feeling right now. You didn’t know how to take his words.

Part of you really wanted to leave things alone, to just stay like this, curled in Sanji’s arms until you slept. That you could stay this way, without anything changing and becoming awkward, was a comforting thought that you wanted to hold onto. However, the more you thought about it, the more you thought that maybe your daydreams and sleepless nights were telling you something. If this was causing you so much distress, maybe it was because part of you really wanted those things to happen. Maybe it couldn’t hurt to test out these new feelings and desires, especially if Sanji was the one saying that he would be willing to accept your changing mind if things don’t go well.

You lift your head, pulling back slightly from Sanji’s embrace. His arms loosen around you, allowing you to back up enough to look up at him; his hands still hold onto your sides as though he isn’t quite ready to let you out of his hold.

“If I asked to try… this,” you say, watching his face closely, the way his eyes shine in the moonlight. “But then I changed my mind and wanted to go back to being friends…”

“You need only say the word, love, and I would give you anything you wanted. Your wish is my command.” He smiles that stupid flirty smile that you know he’s flashed at a million women through his time working at the Baratie, and yet you couldn’t help the flare of warmth that shoots through your body.

“Fuck it.” You whisper, reaching up to grab his face. Your hands slide over his jaw, cupping his cheeks to pull him down to meet your lips with his own.

You had thought about kissing Sanji for a while now; what it would be like to have his lips against yours, what he would taste like, how his lips, his tongue, his teeth would feel against you. And yet all your daydreaming hadn’t prepared you for truly living it. You had a pretty good imagination, so it wasn’t like you hadn’t imagined how amazing it felt for him to press his lips against yours, pulling back a little between each kiss and feeling his warm breath against your face. But feeling him against you, feeling his hand slide up from your waist to thread through your hair, gripping softly when you nip at his lip – that was something else entirely. The way it lit your body on fire was hard to ignore.

When you pull back from the kiss, breathing deeply as you continue to cup his face, you met his eyes in the dim light, close enough to feel his breath fan your face with every pant he lets out. Your heart tightens as you look at him, feel the warmth of his body pressing against you, debating going in for another kiss.

“Is it okay if I kiss you again?” You whisper, afraid of breaking the moment you felt encapsulated in. It felt as though the world stopped turning, the wind stopped blowing, time stopped ticking as you glued yourself against Sanji’s body.

Sanji simply smiled and leaned back in, pulling you in by the back of the neck to capture your lips again. Your body arches up to meet your bodies together, needing to be closer to him. His hand that isn’t tangled in your hair slides to the small of your back, tightening to help you arch against him further, as though he wants to pull you into his body, make you one with him in the same way you want to curl into his body yourself.

You couldn’t deny it any longer, being with Sanji was too good not to want to be with him forever. You still felt a little fear – you never knew a day without some concern of how life would play out for you, how others would react to everything you do. However, feeling Sanji’s arms around you, being this close to Sanji, you loved him enough to overlook that fear for a little while. You didn’t think you needed him this way so badly – kissing him, holding him, loving him – but now that you’ve had a taste, you didn’t think you could go a day without having him this way. Your dreams hadn’t prepared you for the incessant need that began to grow in your bones.

“You can kiss me whenever you desire, my love. I will be waiting for the chance to hold you like this again, every day until I die.” Sanji’s kind words were drowned out by the pounding in your chest at the thought that he felt the same way you did.

Yeah, you could see yourself spending hours with him like this. Maybe daydreaming wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

#sanji imagine #sanji #sanji angst #sanji fluff #opla imagine #one piece imagine #one piece #opla #sanji opla #sanji one piece #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #one piece angst #imagine

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