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bluberryfields · 8 months

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This is what happens when you're raised by TV and trained in literary analysis

Beyond the crushing heartbreak of that finale, one thing in particular has stuck with me when I look at it in the context of S2 as a whole.

He lays out their relationship, "We're a team, a group. A group of the two of us. And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't."

He then turns his head away and says, "I mean, the last few years, not really."

He pauses here, facing the interior of the bookshop. Really looks it up and down.

Turns back, "And I would like to spend" before choking on his words and looks toward the window. He can't finish saying something like "And I would like to spend eternity with you" because that's too much, too fast, for both of them.

But it's that "last few years" bit that has firmly lodged itself in my very broken brain.

According to Gaiman, it's been "a few years" since the end of Season 1. Armageddon has been averted. Heaven and Hell have reluctantly retreated. Crowley and Aziraphale have been effectively cut loose from their "sides," leaving them to form their own side.

So at the start of Season 2, we get a glimpse of the “fragile existence” they have carved out for themselves. To me, the biggest difference that we see is how they exist together in front of others. Going to the coffee shop, the pub, and the other shops along the street that Aziraphale has lived on for over 200 years. And don’t forget how they act in front of Nina, Maggie, and sweet, dim Muriel.

At the coffee shop, Aziraphale stammers a bit when Nina asks who Crowley is, but he still seems to have affection in his voice when he says, "We go back a long time."

Compared to Shakespearian "He's not my friend! We've never met before. We don't know each other!" panic, this is an incredible difference.

Of course, each time, Crowley is cool and cheeky and does nothing to indicate that they aren't a pair. Though, of course, he does deny it when Nina asks about Aziraphale being his side piece. “He’s not my bit on the side! He’s far too pure of heart to be anyone’s bit on the side.” And refers to him as an “Angel [swallows]I know.”

When they go the pub, Crowley's joy at doing something together in public that they do not normally do is super cute, including his cheeky order for Aziraphale's sherry. Then, when bringing the drinks over to the socially trapped Aziraphale, he greets Mr. Brown with a truly adorable, "Hello" and a signature DT smile. Then upon hearing how “excited” Mr. Fell is to host the meeting, he looks down and says, “Oh? You astonish me.” while Aziraphale sips his sherry and squirms.

We also watch as Crowley follows Aziraphale as he goes to each shop and talks to the owners about the meeting/secret ball. In theory, Crowley has no reason to tag along, and he certainly doesn’t help sway anyone who doesn’t want to/can’t go. He goofs around at the magic shop. He splays out on the bench, chin on hand, looking for all the world a husband waiting for his wife to pick out a dress at the department store. They are so married it’s ridiculous.

Finally, their behavior in front of Muriel while inside their sanctuary. Crowley sits on the arm of Aziraphale’s chair, somehow looking supremely comfortable on the old-fashioned furniture. He folds up those gloriously long limbs and presses himself as close as possible.

He smiles and plays along with Aziraphale’s coaching of Muriel in her disguise. Calls him Angel and asks to speak in private. And at the end, during the awful wait while Aziraphale talks with The Metatron, Crowley cleans up the shop and tells Muriel that he and Aziraphale will need some “us” time after all this. No beating around the bush.

Without oversight, they can be openly together and happy. But Heaven just can’t let that happen.

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cloud-recesses-updates · 26 days

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Sorry guys Lan Qiren says booping is forbidden 😔

#boop #sad #mdzs #why can't we have nice things #the untamed #mo dao zu shi

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iamafanofcartoons · 7 months

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That disgusting Critter just made a new hate video about how RWBY fails at using its cast. Of course an idiot like her would say that. Not every single character in a show matters. And of course she says that a racist like Cardin should get more screen time in the show.

There is a word people have for somebody like her.

The Female version of Hero Hei.

But anyone who says that Cardin should get more screentime , or god forbid Adam? That's a red flag.

Why the hell do people keep insisting on shipping cardinxvelvet or wanting cardin and velvet on the same team?

And here I thought Tauradonna fans were sick in the head.

Here

youtube

Here's a counter-video, a video explaining how RWBY actually uses its characters well.

Thanks to @tumblingxelian

#rwby #rwby discourse #why can't we have nice things #some people live to hate

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justanotherplantgoblin · 17 days

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Thanks now I'm severely traumatised. Again.

10/10 would watch again.

#x men 97 #x men 97 episode 5 #to me my x men #why can't we have nice things #this is exactly why magneto is always right

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reddeaddepression1899 · 2 years

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Stop this is so true, I’m always like “damn why can’t I find anything”

#hunting #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #john marston #red dead redemption #charles smith #why can't we have nice things

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moodysnowflake · 1 year

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I want scenes in which Meryl is taught how to shoot by Vash, Nicholas, and Livio, in the outskirts of Jeneora.

They will be making targets with cans, knick knacks, fabrics, and scavenged parts.

Nick will poke at her non stop, teach her not to get distracted. He'll tickle her mid-loading because "what if you have some bigass worm crawling up in your jacket, uh, li'l lady?". He'll get in her personal space and loom with his cheek just a inch from hers, because he wants for her to become fearless and unfazed. If they stay out long enough, he and Livio will put themselves between her and the suns to cast some shade. He'll pitch the Punisher on the ground and dare her to climb on it and fire, grinning like a proud idiot when, after six months, she manages to hit all targets while perched on it.

He'll blow smoke in a thin, delicate strand under her nose when he senses she's going too far gone in the past, to help her coming back.

All the other times, he'll just puff like a chimney right in her face.

She'll get manhandled a lot (respectfully), because Nick wants for her to be ready in any situation. He'll accidentally get shot in the beginning from time to time. No biggie.

Whenever Vash or Livio might inquire wether some of their shenanigans may bit a bit much, he'll scoff "Tch, of course she'll make it. Morons."

Vash will teach that is not necessary for a gun to shoot to be dangerous. He'll instruct how to hold the gun to avoid accidental firing, keeping the hand on the grip, but the index on the trigger guard when not aiming. He'll show her how to use it as a melee weapon, to punch, stun, and incapacitate; because she has only two shots before reload, and she will run out of bullets at some point.

She'll learn how to properly maintain the derringer, because that can make the difference.

He'll brace her arms with his to teach her how to let the gun settle while aiming, not forcing the position. She'd understand that is useless to force your body, if not dangerous, she needs to let it adjust and lock.

Sometimes mid-aim, she'll focus on the barrel, and the memories will flood up out of nowhere. Her hands will tremble. So Vash will stand behind her and tenderly nuzzle his nose the top her head, staying there until it passes.

Livio will be the one to train with her every single time, even at the oddest hours. He'll help her set the targets, correct the stand with soft, gentle touches on the elbows and shoulders. Showing the positions standing side-by-side, time and time again, without getting annoyed. Ever, patience incarnated. She'll mess up a lot; he'll smile and say "Again", encouraging.

He'll be soft spoken, but his hands will be flailing all over the place when he's explaining. She'll ask him to teach her how to reload, because she'll be too embarrassed to ask Vash. He'll smile and show her, step by step.

He will always have the water can ready.

Whenever she'll feel stuck, frustrated, at a dead end, he'll be there. He'll perceive that, crab-walk to her from where he was sitting. He'll give her the biggest smile, and promise "We're gonna catch up". She'll smile back, fondly.

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lumi077 · 9 months

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Chapter two; sleepless nights

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Warnings: Exhaustion, possible OOC, overworking, self neglect, I do give y’all a code name a duty I’m sorry T^T Scara is his canon amount of jerk

The ice sets into your heart, but another thing also sets in. The new workload, and being the closest to her it is seen fit that you take over La Signora’s duties for the time being. On top of how yours are heightened, you are drowning in the ocean of paperwork. Who will be your savior.

A/N; I’m so sorry for how long this took lovelies, and the fact it’s lowkey a filler. I’ve been so busy lately with my birthday, friends, and family. I hope you guys like it regardless. And Scara is mentioned, for my scaranation girlies, boys, and nonbinary baes <3 You’ll be in Sumeru next chapter, I won’t torture y’all with the long ass journey lmao.

It was about a week after the play, you mean funeral, for La Signora. You had ended up taking over most of her work, so on top of being your own rank you were also number 8. Which was difficult to juggle with your preparations to head to Sumeru with the doctor and Scaramouche, and not to mention how your own duties have been raised to prepare for your departure as well.

You were unaware why her majesty gave you so much work, but you didn’t have the courage to complain about the crushing workload. Being seen as weak among your fellow soldiers seemed more embarrassing than anything else, and you were more than content to suffer long endless days and nights in order to avoid that.

So that’s how you ended up at the office of the notorious Pantalone, being guided by one of his many secretaries to his personal office. She was blabbering away, telling you how rare it was that he let another harbinger grace his halls. It irked you; you were tired and honestly not here with the pleasantries she was shoving down your throat.

“I think silence would benefit the both of us.” You interrupted her rambles of the newest office gossip, leaving the nuisance of a woman beet red.

“Of course, my lady/lord. My apologies.” She mumbled shyly, casting her eyes down to the pristine wooden floors.

You merely scoffed and waved away her apology, honestly too annoyed to further talk to her. She was beneath you, and so you merely acted as such.

The secretary, Yuki, who used to work under you was surprised and honestly a little hurt. You were different from most harbingers; you were nice and entertained conversation with not only her but most of your staff. Warm and bubbly, but also quiet and somber. But what you weren’t was an elitist that disrespected underlings. She did dully realize that perhaps this was the grief talking and not you.

But in reality, you were too overworked to even notice it was Yuki and not just some random servant that fatui dug up somewhere. Being the Collector, you were the harbinger in charge of obtaining new members as well as indoctrinating them. You chose who would work best with who (which is perhaps why Dottore is so understaffed he multiplied himself) and trained them until they were fit for service. And if you manipulated some poor broke sods so that they saw the fatui as the only way to leave poverty, it wasn’t really your fault. So, you technically knew most of the fatui servants.

“Here we are, Collector.” Her voice brought you out of your sleep deprived daze only slightly. The Collector was your fatui codename, and often interchangeable with your real name.

You just grunted unceremoniously and pushed the door open with little care. You normally weren’t so brass, but you didn’t care anymore.

Pantalone didn’t jump, didn’t even look up from his paperwork, and he didn’t look your way once. And that snapped something inside of your sleep craving brain and you can’t tell if you started crying or seeing red.

“Archons preserve me, Pantalone.” You walked over and slam a hand on his desk. Now that made the banker jump, not expecting it to be you and for you to be so brutal.

“I am very busy; I’ll make this quick.” You hiss, and it became apparent you were indeed crying. Your tears were wetting his paperwork. “I-I just need funding for a project Rosalyne was in the middle of making.” Your speech was a bit slow from exhaustion, but you got it out relatively comprehensible.

Pantalone was surprised, he had never really seen the great collector shed a single tear. You hadn’t cried even when Signora was reported dead, so this surprised him. He didn’t know how overworked you truly were, and you felt weak just crying in front of him.

Wiping your tears, you tried to school your facial expression to that off stoic coldness, and you hoped it worked. Setting down the rather large stack of paperwork you had filled out to authorize the funding, you cleared your throat. “Here is the paperwork, fully completed. Please think about giving me the funding, Lord Pantalone.”

He stood from his desk, but you were already out the door, not wanting to see an ounce of pity on the man’s face. You don't need pity from anyone, you're one of the most powerful people in the world and you can handle your own just fine. You will never need anyone to save you, ever again. You can save yourself now.

Another week passed like this, working everyday with almost no breaks. Dark circles took over your eyes, your skin a sickly pale shade of the original color, and you lost weight in no time. The only food you had time to eat were quick snacks in between the delivery of yet another stack of paperwork after you just finished one. Your voyage to the nation of knowledge was rapidly approaching, and Scaramouche was driving you up the wall with letter after letter of insults.

“Are you really so worthless and stupid as to let yourself rot in order to complete measly papers? How absolutely pathetic. You’re better than that, Collector. Act like it. I’ll see you in a few days, and if you do not look well rested and haven’t eaten, not even Celestia itself will be able to save you from my wraith.” was the newest one, and also the shortest. Which is good, because reading it almost takes up the time you use to eat.

Other harbingers have begun to worry as well, probably Scaramouche overexaggerating your condition to them. How even he himself knew was a mystery to you. Does he have someone sending reports to him? A little creepy, and completely a waste of fatui resources and time. You’ll have to find out who it is and have them punished. They are to report to you, not the goddamn Balladeer.

A knock resonated through your entire office, your desk piled with stacks of paperwork, both finished and not. You simply thought it was one of your servants here to collect and deliver the finished stacks to the right places. No, it was the Doctor. Dottore. Interesting, he must be here for some information regarding the transportation.

“Good evening, Collector.” His raspy voice grated your sensitive nerves. Really any sound got on your nerves now, as tired and as frayed as they are.

“Yes yes, what do you need Dottore?” You snapped, tired voice making the doctor wince at it. Yours wasn’t very clear, maybe a dead mumble at best. And you looked like a dead person walking, your hair was unkept as well as your clothes. You look like death visited you, and you scared it off. Which honestly could have happened, and you just failed to notice.

Your hands twitched uselessly, they were overused from constant writing and the muscles were exhausted. Gripping the quill for which you wrote was painful now, so you had given up after you legitimately failed to grip it tight enough to write.

“Nothing, my dear. Simply came to see you.” He moved closer and took a seat in front of your crowded desk, reclining like this was his office and you were the one visiting. You grit your teeth.

“I’m busy, and you’ll be seeing me for a very long while after tomorrow. All the carriage rides and voyages.” You sigh, leaning back in your own seat. Your back was screaming in your hunched over form, and the relief was not instant like you had hoped. Your back felt tight and painful, just another pain to add to the very long list that has seemed to accumulate.

You narrowed your bloodshot eyes as your fellow harbinger just shrugged, as if you didn’t really deserve much of a explanation. “What’s the harm in beginning a few hours early.”

Now that surprised you. Hours? But how, it was still evening was it not? “Hours?” Your wobbly voice now had an air on uncertainty. You would know if the night and morning had passed already, would you not?

Dottore smirked, much to your chagrin you realized that he already knew. Already knew you were so overworked your inner clock broke down, and you barely know what day it is.

“Yes, hours. Your servants have been endlessly coming in and reminding you, I’m told. They’re packing everything as we speak, my dearest collector.” His voice was mocking you think, but maybe he simply meant to tease you. Still annoyed you to no end.

Leaning forward and wincing as you back felt like it was stabbed at the movement, you grimace “Of course I knew, it was a simple jest is all.” You knew very well you were unconvincing after his smirk widened.

“Of course, very funny.” Was all he supplied, and he stood “It’s a good thing you are so ahead in your paperwork. Are you ready, my lady/lord?”

You did not trust yourself to stand, but you did anyway. And instantly fell to your knees after wobbling. You can’t remember the last time you stood, and your legs were unprepared. You haven’t even stretched them from the sitting position in about two days. Probably while they hurt now too. “My poor collector.” Dottore tutted as he rounded the desk and picked you up. Damn him and expecting everything you did.

“I’m fine, just a fainting spell.” You lied through your teeth but lacked the energy to truly make it convincing. And damn yourself for being a terrible liar when tired.

He walked out of your office, nodding “I’m sure. I should carry you, just to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He teased again, looking down at you with that damn mask.

For some weird reason the action of him walking while cradling you so gently in his arms seemed to lull you to sleep. Or maybe you were just that exhausted. “Wha…tever.” you breathed out faintly, eyelids fluttering uncontrollably.

He hummed noncommittally in response “I’ll wake you up when we reach the ship.” Damn him, was the last conscious thought you had before your mind fully succumbed to the much-needed slumber plaguing you.

#harbingers x reader #dottore x reader #scaramouche x reader #fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers x reader #lumiwritings #winters' servants #why can't we have nice things #i need more tag ideas #please help i'm so tired

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