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sshbpodcast · 2 years

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Sending off Kes with our tops & bottoms from S3 of Voyager

by Ames

You’ll remember that we here at A Star to Steer Her By found season 2 of Star Trek: Voyager to be a little whiplashy. Well, welcome to the Nekrit Expanse, kids! Simultaneously home to some of the best and worst of the series yet! People don’t talk about the early seasons as much because a lot of people skip to season 4 when Seven of Nine gets introduced, and really that’s kind of a shame because it means they miss Jennifer Lien’s chance to shine as Kes… at least when the writers remembered to do anything with her character in the first place.

You’ll see the least amount of overlap we’ve had in our lists in a while now! That’s how inconsistent this season was. But don’t despair: your fine hosts are here to walk you through the good and bad of this season. Read on below for our much anticipated tops and bottoms lists, and/or listen along in our season wrap discussion on this week’s podcast episode (season wrap starts at 1:08:05), where you can hear the bonus picks from guest star James Rossi!

[images © CBS/Paramount]

Top Three Episodes

Let’s kick it off, as is my prerogative, with the good stuff, in which you’ll mostly see a lot of examples of some really superb acting from our stars and guests. But first, the fluffy fun stuff…

“False Profits”: Chris If you were betting on Chris picking a Ferengi episode in his tops list, as is his wont, then here’s your prize: a copy of the Rules of Acquisition (cheapest binding possible). It’s always a fun time when these frogmen are involved, a lot of the jokes land exceptionally well, and Neelix gets to play dress up! If you’re looking for a romp of an episode once in a while, this one scratches that itch.

“Rise”: Chris Dark horse candidates for top episodes can make us feel even better than some of the more mainstream fan favorites because it’s more of a surprise. They come out of nowhere and leave us feeling pretty positive. There’s a lot to like about “Rise”, from the poignant Neelix-Tuvok discourse, to the genuinely fascinating idea of an orbital tether, and even to watching Sklar fall to his death like a cartoon figure.

“Real Life”: Caitlin If you were expecting an episode that starts off as a campy 50s sitcom to have you weeping by the end, then you’re probably familiar with “Real Life.” The Doctor gets a taste of what it’s like to live as an actual person, with baggage and family drama and a constantly messy house and everything, and it’s not what he was expecting. It was something much more familiar, nuanced, and dare I say, real?

“Before and After”: Ames, Jake We will always applaud a time travel story that does something new and refreshing while also making literally any sense at all. Jumping backwards in time to solve a riddle by adding information you got from the future is such a smart idea that was executed incredibly well. And many accolades to Jennifer Lien. These kinds of episodes leave us wishing the show had given us more Kes before her impending exit.

“Distant Origin”: Ames, Caitlin, Jake When you hear there’s an episode about dinosaurs in space, you roll your eyes a little. But "Distant Origin” treats the subject with such seriousness that it sucks you in. The parallels to Galileo make it something any science lover can parse, the anti-science rulings are so relatable, Chakotay is on point for a change, and the acting from Henry Woronicz as Gegen is perfectly lovely. It’s so good that you forget about the whole weird dino thing.

“Remember”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris, Jake Damn, when you let Roxann Dawson stretch her legs a little bit, she really impresses! We were spellbound by watching her live out the life of an Enaran woman growing up during a terrible genocide. Like in “The Inner Light,” the concept of experiencing the culture and history of another race in order to better understand them was thought provoking and topical, and Dawson absolutely delivers!

—

Bottom Three Episodes

The bad list is much more varied because this season was just all over the place. Let us count the ways in which we were infuriated this season.

“Warlord”: Jake Unlike in “Remember” where we were captivated by Dawson’s performance, we’re left wishing we saw something else from Jennifer Lien being possessed by a tyrant. While she did very well with the material, we saw a lot of missed opportunities for Kes to get to be an active part of her being saved, which is a shame. Also, the politics fell pretty flat and we’re introduced to the tiresome Paxau Resort.

��Macrocosm”: Chris Even if you excuse the poorly aged CGI (and good luck trying), this episode just feels like a cheap knock off of Alien. Or maybe Aliens. Discuss among yourselves. Janeway pulls off the Ripley character type well, but it was like she forgot how to be Janeway at the same time. We’ve seen this kind of story pulled off in other episodes better, with strategy taking precedence over action, which seems more right.

“Favorite Son”: Caitlin We’ve tread this ground before in all-female societies that turn out to be a bunch of bitches. Is it sexist or just lazy storytelling? Perhaps a bit of both. This episode is mostly a tired repeat of episodes like “Angel One,” “The Lorelei Signal,” and maybe “Spock’s Brain” a little, and we tuned out pretty fast. They should have gone with their initial impulse and just let Harry be an alien from now on. That’d be more original.

“Darkling”: Jake Back in the day, Jake had a lot of negative things to say about how “The Enemy Within” gets The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde quite wrong, and we see the same kind of response from him on viewing “Darkling.” The Doctor is much more literally turned into Mr. Hyde and it’s just kind of goofily written, fairly patronizing to Kes, and wraps up so easily that you could blink and miss the literal climax.

“Coda”: Ames We move on from Jekyll and Hyde to Frankenstein in our classic literature section of the blogpost because “Coda” just feels like it was stitched together from the cadavers of scripts that died on the writing table. The whole thing feels like it doesn’t quite fit and all the seams are still showing. Finally at the end, we get a cop-out ending about aliens pretending to be your ghost dad and Contact did it way better.

“Scorpion, Part I”: Caitlin Though a fan favorite for many Voyager fans because it reintroduces the Borg and sets the stage for a much beloved character to join the cast next season, defanging our favorite techno-goth adversaries so quickly may be poor service to what should be an extremely powerful race. They went from being an insurmountable threat to a domesticated cyberpuppy all in one fell swoop.

“Blood Fever”: Ames, Chris I’m actually surprised this one wasn’t unanimous because it is just so appalling how much sexual assault gets swept under the rug for the sake of story. The more you think about pon farr, the grosser it gets because it removes the potential partner’s ability to consent, and that was problematic even before the Me Too movement. Vulcans, be more logical about all of this please. Logic is way sexier.

“Sacred Ground”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris, Jake The episode that did end up being unanimously bad was this messy confrontation between faith and science that ended up just feeling as repetitive, meandering, and pointless as Janeway’s spiritual quest did. It’s still unclear what the point of it was supposed to be because nothing paid off and the whole thing felt like filler. Take this from a podcast full of atheists: blind faith isn’t going to do it for us.

—

So long, Kes, and thanks for all the times the writers remembered there was a lot special about you to write about! We’re still here though and haven’t transcended to some new plane, so keep following along with us as we welcome a new crewmate on the Voyager over on SoundCloud or your favorite podcast app, hail us on Facebook and Twitter, and stop sexually assaulting your coworkers, Vorik!

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abundanceofnots · 3 years

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How many kissing scenes do they have total?

Okay, anon, strap in. We’re doing this the meticulous way. I hope you’ve got your reading glasses and your calculator ready.

For the purposes of this exercise, we’ll be counting kissing scenes between Ian and Mickey in the literal sense, aka where lips touch lips. Here we go!

1. The literal first kiss in 3×05. Also known as Mickey being brave and finding out exactly how much heavier a grandfather clock is than you expect it to be when you’re high on the good feelingTM.

2. The wedding kiss in 3×11. The wrong people are getting married, and both parties present in the room are miserable. Kissing and tearing clothes off each other is easier than talking, but they’re both trying to communicate different things in those kisses.

3. The club kiss in 4×08. Iconic, revolutionary, groundbreaking. Worth every hyperbole in the book. Another growing moment for Mickey as another one of his walls crumbles down to the rhythm of Move It Like U Stole It of all things. Also, the very first time we see the now patented head-cradle from Ian. (The fact that this kiss doesn’t seem to end is another bonus.)

4. The one before it all went to hell in 5×11. Nothing about this scene is particularly happy. They’re punching each other, there’s blood, and Mickey calls Ian a wet rat (and that’s, admittedly, very cute). As always, you do you, guys.

5. The one which combines the pent-up tensions and longing of about a year, or two TV seasons, in 7×10. (Also, tongues.)

6. The Spider-Man van kiss in 7×10. Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst who?

7. The horny kiss over the console in 7×11. Also known as Good-Luck-Screenshotting-This.

8. The border goodbye kiss in 7×11. Also known as the one where tongues make a reappearance, but we’re too sad to comment on it.

9. The one where Ian has to simultaneously breathe a sigh of relief and stop Mickey from making any more stupid jokes about bottom bunks in 9×06.

10. The mutual I love yous with mutual head-cradles in 10×03.

11. The one where Ian envelopes Mickey in his arms like a giant octopus in 10×06. (It’s like he missed him a lot, idk.)

12. The courtroom kiss in 10×08. The sweetest kiss in existence.

13. The first kiss they share as fiancés in 10×10. It could be longer, I say from my professional point of view as a nosy fucker.

14. The wedding kiss in 10×12. The right people are getting married this time, and everything is perfect--well, except for Noel’s cold sore. We don’t really see the kiss because of it but ask me if I care. (I don’t. Their vows are one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen on TV.)

15. The one where they’re being cute as hell husbands before they start going on about potential prison visits (still somewhat cute) and raw assholes (less cute) in 11×01.

16. A ticket straight to horny jail from 11×05.

... and that’s as far as we’ve got so far. If my highly scientific approach is correct, we’re currently standing at 16 kissing scenes in total. I’m sure we’ll get some more in the second half of S11.

But we also shouldn’t forget:

17. The deleted lovemaking from S5. I get why they would delete it because the purity of the kiss alone could give you cavities.

18. The deleted kiss from S10. It’s all very bantery and loving (and loud!), penile enhancement jokes included.

19. The Hall of Shame kiss where they try to eat each other whole.

20. The Hall of Shame blooper reel. (Yes, I’m counting it. There’s head-cradling and smiling into the kiss. It’s delicate and sweet. What more could you want? Oh, to actually see it on the show? That’s fair.)

And, well, 20 is a much better number than 16. (For now.)

#was this necessary? big nope #did i spend too much time working on this anyway? hell yes #thank you anon for keeping my mind occupied for a bit!#gallavich #shameless #a very scientific project indeed

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a-dorin · 3 years

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stranger

pairing: the mandalorian x medic!reader

word count: 2.69k

warnings: cursing, canon typical violence, blood, wounds, burns, references to killing/violence, the taste of blood, sewing a wound up, yearning, pining, an idiot who wears only a beskar helmet and takes on more than he can handle 99.99% of the time

a/n: hi i wrote this in like no time at all so i hope you guys like it. (also at like 2:05 in the morning) also, this takes place during season one, and diverts a little bit away from canon because he doesn’t have all of his new beskar armor yet (oops) also, sorry if the ending line is shitty i have a hard time with it sometimes

“i thought this was the last time you were going to pull shit like this on me karga,” you dig your index finger into his chest, your jaw clenched, lips curled in a sneer, “you always say it’s going to be the last time shit like this happens and guess what? it doesn’t ever fucking end does it? i help you one time and--”

the leader hangs his head, raising a hand in defeat, “i am well aware of how you feel about me and the way i do my business. however, this is someone i can’t turn away. and you’re the only person i trust to fix him.”

exhaling, your eyes squeeze shut, “who is it?”

“someone who has been working with me for quite some time,” greef pauses, taking a moment to gauge your reaction, “he’s a skilled bounty hunter, one of the best, actually. typically, he fixes himself right up, but his injuries are far too severe to just ‘sew up’ and go about his business. trust me, i had to do some convincing to even bring him to you.”

through the entryway, a draft rolls in, causing you to shrink into your clothes, “it’s a little too chilly to talk out here. come in, we can discuss my payment, and then i’ll make my decision.”

greef takes a step forward, clearing his throat, “i’ll pay you, and so will he. i am well aware of how you feel about giving my men medical attention. but you do know that i will pay you well for this, right?”

you nod slightly, rubbing your temple with your fingers, “how much are we talking here, karga?”

“i would like for you to assess his injuries first,” he counters, “then we can talk about payment.”

“fine,” you mutter, crossing over to your table, “please, just bring him in. if he bleeds out on my table, it’s your fault karga!”

“hopefully there will be none of that,” karga shakes his head, the words so low that you could barely hear him, “i’ll bring him in. let me know when you’re finished.”

swiftly, you gather up your supplies, your hands gathering as much as you could. from the sound of it, things weren’t looking good. reaching out, you pull your cart towards you, practically tossing the supplies on the metallic surface. cursing under your breath, you search for your gloves, eyes frantically searching your surroundings, yet they’re nowhere to be found.

guess you’d have to get a little messy with this one.

a long-winded groan startles you from your task at hand, and your heart sinks the moment karga brings him in. he’s donned head to toe in battle armor, the hues of the metal a variety of colors. the only distinguishable piece is a beskar helmet, light reflecting off its surface.

not once did karga mention that you would be tending to a mandalorian.

“how bad is it?” you inquire, your voice crisp and cool as you stride over to karga, helping him carry the mandalorian to your table.

blood seeps through his clothes, soaking the garments with a horrid scarlet. in several spots, there is singed fabric, signifying that he took a few good shots. the mandalorian reeks of burnt flesh and the stench of a battle, your nose wrinkling and bile rising in your throat.

this was far worse than karga described, and this was no time to start panicking.

“just a few blaster shots,” the mandalorian cuts in, his voice distorted from a modulator, “nothing that i couldn’t fix myself.”

“ah, ah, ah,” karga interjects, “there’s more to it than that. i believe he has several lacerations, perhaps a few burns from blasters.”

“that beskar couldn’t stop everything huh?” you arch a brow, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

the mandalorian doesn’t respond, anxiety bubbling up within you, “karga, try and keep him awake as long as you can. i have a few healing stems, along with some bacta shots, but depending on how deep the wounds are, i won’t be able to treat him unless we strip him of the armor.”

“i-i can’t take that off,” the mandalorian gurgles, “i-i, m-my cr-creed.”

“what creed?” you shoot karga a curious glance, guilt plastering his features.

“he has a creed he follows,” karga inhales sharply, “it’s his way of life.”

your lips part, forming an o. you want to scold karga for not briefing you on all of the minor details, as he normally does with his men. however, there was no time for banter or bickering.

you had to maintain your composure.

“how much blood has he lost, you think?”

“i can’t give you a definite answer on that,” karga takes a step back, allowing you to survey the mandalorian, “i would say a lot, but i’m not too sure. perhaps his garments stopped some of it, or the pressure of his armor.”

“that’s not enough pressure,” you murmur, plucking a pair of shears off your cart, “hey mando, can you hear me? are you still with us?”

a feeble hand raises from the table, his voice breathy and far away, “i-i’m here. anything but the helmet, please.”

“of course,” your voice is soft and hushed, “the helmet is off limits.”

“now that i’ve got him in here,” karga gestures his head towards the nearly unconscious mandalorian, “he has something back at his ship that i need to tend to. will you need my assistance or can you handle it?”

“i can handle it,” your voice falters, “go do what you need to do. it may be an hour or two before he’s feeling better.”

“you know how to find me if you need me,” karga’s words trail off as he exits your home, the doors sliding shut behind him.

“all right mando,” you take his hand, squeezing it, “i’m going to start by removing your armor okay? let me know if you can’t feel anything. that’s when we have a problem.”

“i can feel everything,” he spits out, “fuck. it hurts. it all hurts.”

“you really took a beating huh?” carefully, you start by removing his boots, hastily yet with caution.

who knew if he took a hit to the spine, paralyzing any point of his body.

“hey,” you place his boots on the floor, “can you wriggle your toes for me mando?”

immediately, relief ripples through you as you watch his toes move, signaling that there was no nerve damage. next, you remove the plates of armor covering his shins and thighs, placing them directly by his boots. the armor was severely damaged, almost beyond repair, as it was littered with dents and holes.

how many run-ins did this mandalorian have in his lifetime? how many of his days had he spent fighting?

“do you have other clothing in your ship?” you press on, slicing the fabric with your shears, “karga mentioned you had a ship.”

“mmmhmmmm,” he hums, “name is the razor crest.”

“ahh,” soaking a rag with bacta spray, you wiped down his exposed legs, assessing his wounds as you did so, “that’s a wonderful name.”

the flesh was only burned, which could be healed almost instantly with the bacta spray. luckily, there wouldn’t be much scar tissue either, only a few minor scars here and there. yet, you wondered if there was an inch of the mandalorian’s body that wasn’t scarred.

“d-don’t worry so much bout my legs,” he stammers, “it’s my shoulder that i’m worried about. i can feel the blood soaking through.”

“i’ll have to remove the rest of your armor and your tunic,” biting your lip, your hands wrap around his chest plate, desperate to find a way to get it off.

“hey,” his voice sounds again, this time a lot clearer, “i can get it off. you don’t have to worry about being hasty about this. i’ll make sure you get your sum.”

“i-i just,” you stutter, the taste of blood hitting your tongue as he sits up, “karga sounded so worried and i want to do a good job because the way he talked, you were his best hunter and i just can’t--”

“you won’t fuck anything up,” a hand reaches out, finding yours, “this isn’t anything i haven’t encountered before. the thing is, you’re a trained medic. i’m not. i would probably make a mistake and make my injuries worse somehow. take. your. time.”

for a moment, your eyes flutter closed, a weary sigh flowing from your lips. you can sense the mandalorian watching you carefully, studying your features through the tinted visor.

“o-okay,” you whisper.

the mandalorian sits up, shedding away the remaining pieces of his armor, “would you like for me to roll over?”

you nod, gnawing at your lower lip once more as you realize that this mandalorian, this stranger, was about to be nearly undressed, half-bleeding, half-conscious, on your table. and he was so patient with you. so much kinder than previous patients in the past.

“wait,” your brow furrows, “your helmet would make it awkward for you to lay on your stomach. how about you move over a little, to the edge of the table?”

“of course.”

he straightens his back, scooting over to give you some space. clambering onto the table, you reach up to adjust your light. taking your rag, you wipe down his back and shoulders, muscles rippling under your touch. every so often, your fingertips graze his heated skin as you lose yourself in your work.

you catch a quiet groan as you continue to work, your heart fluttering.

the sound wasn’t drenched with pain, nor anywhere near the noise you first encountered when he was being brought in by karga.

this was a sound of contentment, a sound of bliss.

“how long has it been since you’ve felt someone’s touch?”

shame burns through you the moment the question tumbles from your lips, nearly consuming you whole as he tenses. maker, did you feel so guilty. he was a stranger to you. how could you just blatantly ask that?

the answer arrives, short and sweet.

“too long.”

leaning over, you press a piece of cloth on his shoulder, a lengthy laceration stretching from his clavicle to his left shoulder blade, “oh, i see.”

“do you usually get this close and personal with your patients?”

“depends,” you shrug, “hey, i’m about to sew you up. it may sting.”

plunging the needle in, you press yourself to his back as you start the suture, your breath fanning against his neck. the mandalorian stiffens as he catches a whiff of your scent, and how it was so heavenly as it wafted into his nostrils.

his jaw clenches as he chokes back a hiss of pain, remaining as still as possible.

“you’re being so good for me,” your voice floods his ear, the praise nearly causing him to crumble completely.

within seconds, you’re all finished, sliding off the table, “i take it that karga is coming back with a change of clothes?”

“i hope so.”

gazing over at your table, you notice the healing stems, “i have some healing stems for your travels. they’ll probably help with that dull pain you’ll have in that area for a while. it won’t be an issue unless you somehow reopen that wound. if it was any closer to any major artery in your neck, you would’ve bled out.”

“i’ll take them.”

“well,” you hand them to him, “take them before you forget them. you seem like the forgetful type.”

a low chuckle erupts from the beskar, “i don’t think i could forget a night like--”

a knock on the doors interrupts the mandalorian’s sentence, cutting it short. as you make your way over, you hear a string of curses flowing from the table. more than likely his native tongue. pressing a button, the doors slide open, revealing greef karga and a strange, little creature, swathed by a bundle of clothing in his arms.

“you were fast,” karga remarks, cradling the creature, “how is he?”

“he’s fine,” your focus is directed away from karga, honing in on the creature, “who is this?”

“this is what i had to retrieve from his ship. he’s a very precious child. extremely important to that mandalorian over there.”

the child coos, its eyes two vast pools of obsidian. he blinks, a tiny hand flailing out. you melt, lips curling into a broad smile, “hello, little one. are you looking for your father?”

“he is,” the mandalorian echoes from across the space.

karga enters, keeping the child against his chest as he strides over, placing the bundle next to the mandalorian. from a distance, you watch fondly as the child teeters towards the bounty hunter, an incoherent blubber sounding as his guardian pats his head, reassuring him that they would no longer be separated.

within minutes, the mandalorian was springing to his feet, with a fresh set of a clothes, the same armor strapped to his frame. the child is in his embrace now, clinging onto his thumb. karga hovers by his side, more than likely filling him in on the next mission. the next victim to hunt.

“how should i pay you?” his voice, one you had grown familiar over the course of the hour, fills your ears.

“oh,” you blink, “um, don’t worry about it. you have far more important things to--”

“no,” his tone is firm, “you deserve some sort of payment.”

“she lives here after all,” karga remarks, folding his arms across his chest, “i could pay her any time.”

“how about you head out so that we can discuss this a little more privately?” he turns to karga, the query almost more of a command than a question.

“of course,” karga dips his head, shifting towards you, “i’ll see you around. hopefully this is the last time i spring a patient on you.”

“i’m sure it won’t be the last,” you roll your eyes playfully, “see you around, karga.”

“tell me, how much do i owe you? name anything in the galaxy and it’s yours.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you snort, “you don’t owe me anything. you could’ve died and you’re worried about paying me.”

“because you deserve it,” he takes a step forward, the space between the two of you dissipating, “from the sound of it, you let this happen quite frequently. you don’t get paid enough for it either.”

“how about you pay me a visit the next time you make a pitstop in nevarro,” your eyes fall to the floor, careful to not meet his gaze, “would that be enough?”

a gloved hand grasps your chin, tilting your head up.

“oh cyar’ika, that would be more than enough.”

the child giggles, bouncing, “maybe you should get a move on. he seems hungry. there’s a cantina not too far away from here. they serve good food, even if the locals get a bit rowdy. i bet it’s nothing you run into, though.”

“it’s probably best if i leave nevarro.”

“be safe out there mando,” you whisper.

“i will.”

just like that, he’s out the door, leaving your knees weak, heart all aflutter.

as the mandalorian made his way to the razor crest, child in tow, his mind was reeling, all of his thoughts honing in one particular thing.

a medic on nevarro, who mentioned briefly that he seemed to the forgetful type. yeah, he traveled near and far, to all rims and edges of the galaxy, but he was one to forget people, nor faces. he encountered so many species: human, twi’leks, wookiees, chiss, you name it.

the moment he stepped foot on the razor crest, he yearned. the desire burning through him, aching and desperate.

stars, how he longed to go back. just for one more glimpse. one more glimpse of that stranger’s face, that beautiful face.

he was determined though, determined to find his way back. perhaps in a few days, even. the mandalorian was relentless, especially when it came to getting what he craved. and oh, how he craved to know the name of the stranger on nevarro.

someone who would no longer be a stranger to the mandalorian.

he just knew it.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin fluff #star wars #mandalorian fluff #mando

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broadstbroskis · 3 years

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the countdown | kevin hayes

a/n: @hockeynetwork ran another wonderful fic exchange this season! i had the lovely @fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan and one of the questions i asked you was for your favorite tropes. you gave me “families are super close and have a bet going on who realize they are in love with each other first.” this is...not quite that 😂 but similar and i hope you enjoy anyway 💚

8:43 pm

Olivia slams her car door shut and checks her watch, swearing as she jogs around to the passenger side to gather everything she’s brought. Besides her activity ring judging her for not meeting her goal, she’s late and she’s going to take so much shit for that.

She practically jogs to the door (or, well, as best as she can in her high heeled booties), plate of her famous chocolate chip cookies in hand, and then stops abruptly right on the front porch when the door opens before she can do it herself.

There goes her hope of just sneaking in.

It’s Jimmy. Of course, it’s Jimmy, with that classic Hayes shit-eating grin on his face as he greets her, even though this isn’t even his fucking house. “Livvy! Rolling in 45 minutes late even though you’re the closest one here.”

“This is honestly so rude of you.” She complains, even as she pulls him in for a hug. She wouldn’t have expected any less from Jimmy, who gives her just as much shit as her own older brother does and always has, ever since they were all kids growing up together in Dorchester. “This is how you treat me, after I show up here with cookies I made especially for you?”

His eyes light up, like she knew they would, even though they both know they’re not just for him. But her chocolate chip cookies are a big hit with all of them, and instead of calling her out on it, he reaches for the plate. “I’ll just take those from you now; put them somewhere safe.”

Olivia laughs. “Nuh-uh. Lemme in; it’s cold as fuck out here.”

Jimmy finally steps aside so she can follow him in the doorway, and only then does Liv hand him the plate of cookies, so that she can take off her coat, revealing the sparkly tank she’d dragged out of her closet just for the evening. “Where’s the champagne?” She pouts, as he leads her on a familiar route deeper into the house. “You came to greet me at the door and didn’t even bring me bubbly?”

“Kristin probably drank it all already.” He jokes, which is straight blasphemy, because she knows his wife set aside at least two bottles just for the two of them to share the minute she walked in the door.

“My girl would never!” Olivia says confidently, and sure enough, the second the two of them walk into the family room to join the rest of the families, his wife is holding up two flutes of champagne with a large smile on her face.

“Livvy!” Kristin cheers and Liv finds herself being pulled into the blonde for a hug and a glass of champagne being thrust into her hand before anyone in her own family can even say hello to her. “You’re here, finally.”

“Oh my god!” Olivia takes a sip of her champagne and rolls her eyes, exasperated. “Every person in this room has been more late to something than I am right now! Jack’s never showed up to Thanksgiving on time or without a hangover in his life and nobody says shit!” She deflects to her younger brother, who holds his hands up innocently.

“We’re not talking about me right now, Livvy.” The grin on Jack’s face widens, somehow. “We’re talking about you lying to all of us.”

She’s absolutely taken aback by that because she hasn’t? She’d panicked in the group chat earlier about getting stuck on a call at work, and then stuck in traffic, which set her back getting ready to come over here and meet all of them. She would have been on time. She’s always on time. “What are you talking about?” She frowns, as a tall person drops an arm around her shoulders and squeezes. “I haven’t lied to anyone.” She looks over at Nolan and pulls a face at him, and then laughs as he deadpans one back to her.

She’d been sure that her long time best friend’s roommate had hated her when they first met, but Kevin had been quick to assure her that was just how Nolan was. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that was true. Beneath Nolan’s resting bitch face that put hers to absolute shame, was an absolute sweetheart; she hated having to admit she was wrong to Kevin.

“To anyone?” Jimmy and Mike, Liv’s older brother, are looking at each other with this ridiculous look of both disbelief and mocking. “Not lying about anything?”

“You saw me literally last week?” She addresses her brother. She’d gone home for Christmas; they’d sat with all their cousins at their grandmother’s and had a great time, just like always. “What the fuck are you on?”

“Olivia!” Her mom snaps, half-heartedly, not even looking away from the conversation she’s having with Liv’s dad and Kevin’s parents.

But Mike merely grins at her. “I don’t know, Liv.” He says, as she’s lifted off the floor and twirled around. “You tell me.”

But she can’t really hear anything he says after that, too busy laughing and shoving at Kevin, trying (unsuccessfully) to get him to put her down. He does, finally, but leaves his arm around her shoulders, even when she tries to shove her shoulders against him in retaliation (a wildly unsuccessful attempt, he goes absolutely nowhere, she really just ends up bringing herself closer to him). “Here’s my girl!” Kevin cheers, shaking her enough that she almost spills what’s left in her champagne glass (and she would have killed him for wasting such a commodity). “ I told you to take off today.”

“Ugh, I wish I could have.” Except they have this huge launch in the first week of the year and they’re still putting finishing touches on, so that was absolutely not happening. It’ll be a miracle that they finish on time as it is. She’s going to pop so much champagne once this goes off.

Kevin, who’s definitely familiar with this work project that she’s been bitching about for months now, laughs; he knows she couldn’t take off earlier, even if she’d really wanted too, and he squeezes her shoulders once. “A few more days and you’re done. Forever.” She clinks her glass against his beer in a cheers. Bless. “Thank god.” He continues. “I don’t like the person you are when you’re 3am deep in emails, Livvy.”

“Lies.” She elbows him, the only time she can really get some leverage against him, when her bony elbow manages to find the spot just under his ribcage. “You love me all the time.”

“Well that’s cute.” Mike says, in that dangerous voice that Liv always finds hard to read. “Just the nicest couple of liars.” And it’s the way he says couple, that really does it for her, but it goes right over Kevin’s head, if the way he just leads her to the kitchen to put down her cookies and get a plate of food, is any indication.

-----

9:23 pm

“Okay, spill.” Kristin says, the second she manages to get Liv alone, not a terribly easy feat, as Liv’s been doing everything she can to avoid that.

“Spill what?” Kristin’s got that look in her eyes, like she’s not going to let this go...whatever this is.

“Whatever’s going on with you and Kev.”

Olivia blinks. “There’s nothing going on with me and Kev.” Except that’s maybe not exactly true. It’s not a lie- there’s definitely nothing going on between them. They’re still friends, definitely still friends. But...there’s definitely not nothing between them either.

There’s too many late nights on one of their couches, spent doing absolutely nothing but talking. Too many lingering touches that don’t lead anywhere. Too many glances across a crowded room where she feels like a magnet is pulling her there in the first place, and then can’t seem to pull herself away.

So like. There’s not nothing. But nothing’s changed; they’re still goofy Kevin and organized Liv, best friends taking on the world (in Philly, now; together again, finally).

“Bullshit.” Kristin calls her out, but Liv’s saved by the arrival of one of Kevin’s sisters, who tries to wrangle them in for a picture before they all become too messy later.

It’s an easy reminder though, of how well these people all know her. So it’s probably time to lock it down for the night.

-----

10:05 pm

It’s quiet in the kitchen, where Olivia has made herself busy cleaning up after stopping in the bathroom. She’s gathered up leftovers of anything that needs to be put away, separated into bags and containers for everyone to take home, and then started on the dishes, when suddenly she feels a finger poke her side, before an entire arm wraps around her stomach.

“Stop that.” Kevin murmurs into her ear, trying to tug her away. “They’ll still be dirty for us tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” She fights against him. “The whole thing took me like, five minutes.”

“You’ve been gone for fifteen.” Kevin says, wrapping his other hand around her waist and lifting her away from the sink. “And that’s not the point.”

He sets her down on the other side of the counter; the sink’s not even in reach anymore. She gets her revenge by wiping her wet hands on his henley, but Kev doesn’t even blink, still staring down at her. “I was almost done!” She protests.

“We can clean the kitchen tomorrow.” Kevin says calmly. “Come hang out with us. I know you’ve got this thing about cleaning and order and shit but I swear to God, Nols and I are not going to fight you on this; you can put everything back wherever you want to put it tomorrow.”

Liv bites her lip so he won’t see her laugh, but of course he knows and a grin immediately stretches across his face. “I’m going to hold you to that.” She says. “I’m finally reorganizing your spice shelf.”

“It’s chaos and we like it that way.” Kevin grins and it’s only when she shakes her head, and the ends of her hair actually hit his face does she realize how close he is.

“It’s anxiety-inducing,” She corrects, smiling right back as Kevin brushes her hair back from her face. “And I don’t know how you two ever get any food made here.”

“Meal service.” Kevin shrugs, but his voice is almost overshadowed by the sound of a gasp behind her.

When she and Kevin both go to look though, the hallway is empty, and Liv shrugs right back at Kevin, before they both grab fresh drinks and join their families again.

-----

11:18 pm

Once Nolan eliminates her from the annual beer pong tournament (fuck him AND his bony elbows that were definitely over the line), Liv drapes herself over her mom’s shoulders and squeezes. Across from her, the Hayes’ both laugh, and her dad just rolls his eyes fondly, but Olivia knows her mom and knows she doesn’t care.

In fact, she welcomes it. Her mom squeezes her hand and she’s grinning, always happy for these moments with her children. “Tough loss, kid.”

“It’s fine.” Liv says, not at all bitter. “Nols is a cheating cheater who cheats. Kev will avenge me.” He’s already up by three cups; it’s looking pretty good.

There’s more laughter, and then her mom is squeezing her hand again. “We’re really happy for you, you know.”

Liv’s a little tipsy, so she doesn’t really question the strangeness of that statement. She kisses her mom’s cheek and hugs her again. “Love you guys too!” She says, and then goes back to watching Kevin clean up for the rest of this game.

-----

11:55 pm

With five minutes to midnight and Kristin crowned as this year’s beer pong champ, the attention turns to the countdown and a flutter of activity toward preparing their traditional midnight champagne toast.

Olivia accepts her glass from her mom and then wanders off to find her phone quickly, dead set on getting a picture of the toast for an instagram post in the morning. It’s still in the kitchen, where she’d left it when cleaning earlier, and she grabs it off the counter, ignoring most of the messages on there in favor of checking the one from Kristin (what she could possibly have to say when she’s literally across the room…).

It’s not actually a text; it’s a picture. A picture of Liv and Kevin, right after Kevin had beaten Nolan at beer pong. She’d thrown herself at him; he’d lifted her up in celebration, both of them laughing and cheering. They look happy and perfect and like something...it’s practically a boyfriend filter...except it’s two of them, her and Kevin.

Definitely not nothing.

“Whatcha looking at?” Kevin’s voice surprises her; she’d been so focused she hadn’t even heard him come up to her.

Liv’s so not the risk taker in this friendship; Kev’s the one dragging her out to new places and new things while she’s the one telling him to take a step back and think things through. And yet, even though it’s the scariest thing in the world to show him, it somehow doesn’t feel like she’s diving in headfirst at all as she tilts the screen a little for him to see. “Kristin sent me this.”

Even though he’s standing right next to her, Kevin still takes a step closer and his free hand, the one not holding his flute of champagne, slides around her waist. “Hey!” He grins, squeezing her gently. “It’s us!”

“Yeah,” She says, much more quietly. “It is.”

He’s quiet for a moment then, but doesn’t move away either. “It’s a good picture of us.”

“It is.” She repeats, agreeing.

“That’s not why you showed me this, is it?”

“No.” Liv swallows the lump in her throat nervously. “It’s not.”

“Livvy.” Kevin says gently and that’s it. That’s all it takes for her to open up.

“I’m so tired of this, Kev.” She shakes her phone, like that’s going to explain everything. “This-this in between thing. This more than friends, but not quite more. I hate it here! I hate looking at this picture and seeing what Kristin sees but knowing that what she sees is wrong. I hate the uncertainty, I hate feeling like there’s this thing but then neither of us does anything, so it just lingers.” She takes a breath, set on continuing, but Kevin jumps in before she can.

“You just hate not knowing something.” He grins.

“Kevin.” Liv snaps crankily, but before she can say anything else to him, he’s pressing her back against the counter and kissing her.

She’s vaguely aware of her champagne crashing to the ground, never more thankful for the fake plastic flutes that their moms always insist on, but Liv really can’t be bothered, even by spilled champagne, as she grips Kevin’s hips to pull herself closer and sinks into a truly amazing first kiss.

“Aw, hell yeah!” She hears from behind her, and pulls away reluctantly, noting the equally annoyed look on Kevin’s face. “I knew it, let’s go!”

It’s Jimmy, looking entirely too pleased to find his brother making out against a counter than he eats off all the time. Actually, it’s all of them- Jimmy, Kristin, Nolan, her brothers, Kevin’s sisters, their parents. All staring at them with bright grins on their faces and bickering.

“I told you-”

“We all fucking knew-” Jack shoves at Mike.

“-they’ve been together for ages.”

“Hey, back up! Just because they were making out now, doesn’t mean they’ve been together for ages; I had New Year’s in the pool!” Nolan pouts.

“I’m sorry,” Liv says, apparently sounding terrifying enough that every one of them stops talking. “There was a pool?”

Every one of them freezes, but for barely a moment, before they’re all talking over each other again and bumping into each other in their haste to back up. “Come on, we’re not even going to ask when this happened?” She hears Jack complain. “There’s $500 on the line here!”

“It’ll stay that way.” Kevin calls and Liv buries her face in his chest to hide her laugh. “Not telling you now!” A few groans echo back into the kitchen as he looks down at her to confirm her agreement. “We’re not telling them...ever, right?”

“Oh, it’s you and me to the grave.” Liv confirms, pulling him down for another kiss.

#kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #my hockey fics

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almostdeath · 2 years

Text

I freaking speedrunned this. It´s 05:34 right now. Just so you know.

Just one more…

One year. It has been one year since they got married. Who would have thought that it would last that long? A lot of people made bets and guessed that this relationship would last a couple of weeks at most. And look at them now, a whole year.

Schlatt was actually surprised to see the date of their wedding on the calendar, he didn´t forget, he just didn´t expect it to come so soon. He could have sworn that it was just yesterday when Quackity proposed to him. Usually the ram hybrid would question this kind of “loosing the track of time” because he is used to the business life. In business a lot of things depend on time. Punctuality, actuality, organisation. All that was important but this isn´t a case of business. It´s a case of feelings and it´s probably normal to lose track of time, when every single day seems timeless, memorable and if every single day is important and not just one specific date to which you should arrive in time, is it even possible to maintain the feeling of change in days, months and even seasons?

The ram hybrid looked back at his sleeping husband, the young hybrid already lied across the whole bed, wings spread, drooling on the bedsheets, messy, dark hair that would cover half of his face. One look and the president couldn´t maintain the serious expression, his mouth curved into a gentle smile. Technically they would have some work to do today, some issues regarding the economics and new buildings but…probably, he could try and finish all that as fast as he can. It would be a shame to not celebrate such anniversary. Schlatt made himself ready for the day, letting his husband sleep a little bit longer. When he finally finished, he approached the king-sized bed, sitting down on the edge and caressing Quackitys cheek with his palm, getting some of the hair out of his face. The young hybrid mumbled something in disagreement, slowly opening his eyes and looking up at his partner, a soft smile formed on his face immediately. Still a little bit clumsy out of sleepiness, he took his hand in his own, leading it to his lips. The duck hybrid then proceeded to leave little kisses on the back of Schlatts hand, giving more attention to the knuckles, some of which were bruised. -Don´t ya try to use this to stay longer in bed, pumpkin, get your fat ass up- it was said with clear amusement, without any real critic behind those words. -Mmm…what a shame…you remember which day it is?- the young hybrid lazily got out of the warm and cozy bed, flapping his wings a little bit to force them “awake” and causing some of the weaker, yellow feathers to fall. -How could I forget the day?....It´s Tuesday after all- they both grinned, even if Q tried to make a shocked expression and look as offended as never before. -I made you the luckiest person alive and you can´t even remember the date? Guapito, I am disappointed! - the duck hybrid could swear that he noticed slight blush on his partners cheeks, even without that, the fast flicker of the long, fluffy ears couldn´t lie. -Well, the date when we first met isn´t today, if I remember correctly.- this time, it was Quackitys turn to blush, so he turned away, trying to keep himself together, even when the soft giggles slipped from his lips. -Not fair, Schlatt…not fair.- the vice president made himself presentable, staying with his back to his husband. -Very fair, sugar. Okay, look…lets speak about it now, to focus on work for the rest of the day. Do you want anything special today? Restaurant, maybe visit another server? Movie night?- the ram hybrid wanted to continue the list and didn´t even notice that Q was already right in front of him, his steps being too light for noticeable noises and the president being too focused on the different ideas. The young hybrid covered his husbands lips with a soft and warm kiss, gently placing one hand on the back of his neck. This was a short moment, but it was as special as any other, because it´s a moment where they are closer than ever. -I thought…about a quiet drinking evening…- this was a slightly surprising suggestion. Not only did Q drink very rarely, but he was also a sloppy drinker. This was something that Schlatt remembered from their marriage ceremony. -If that’s what ya want, pumpkin. A drinking evening sounds good. - without any further words, the president united their lips again.

When the evening finally came, Quackity was excited. They brought some alcohol, mostly whiskey, one vodka and some fruity stuff, it was strange, but it was actually Schlatts initiative to buy those. They also got some soft drinks. Q never saw the president mix anything before, he always saw him drink that stuff pure. It only became stranger when Schlatt insisted on having a dinner first, saying that it would somehow help with the alcohol. The vice president honestly didn´t get the reason behind that, Schlatt never had a problem with drinking without eating anything beforehand, so why now?

Finally, everything needed was on the table in front of the cozy couch. Schlatt sat next to his husband and began to pour one glass of whiskey, apparently for himself because the second glass remained empty, but he did open one of the smaller bottles with some sweet stuff. Seems to be some kind of fruit-flavoured champagne. -Very funny. - Quackity looked at him with a slight annoyance, crossing his arms on his chest and looking now and then at the empty glass. -Ya should start slow. It will help you to handle it better. And that shit isn´t that bitter tasting.- even though the younger hybrid did mutter something in Spanish, he still accepted the little bottle. -After that I drink the same that you are drinking.- he proceeded to start drinking right away, trying to kill it all in one shot. Schlatt already smirked, predicting his husbands reaction to the whiskey that he was slowly sipping at, not trying to rush that moment. It was strange but the fruity stuff didn´t taste that bad, didn´t even make Quackity curl his face because of the flavour. As soon as the bottle was mostly empty, the duck hybrid put it to the side and reached to the whiskey bottle that was then put farther away from him. -Wait at least a couple of minutes.- Schlatt seemed serious and his voice was actually pretty low in that moment, the Hispanic male avoided his gaze, trying to ignore the way his own cheeks flushed. The president added some whiskey to the empty glass meanwhile but only filling less than a quarter of the said glass. The rest was then filled with cola. -Schlatt…come on…- Quackitys voice almost sounded genuinely hurt, he knew his limits. His husband didn´t need to be that careful. To prove that the duck hybrid grabbed the glass and tried emptying it in one swing, regretting his choice instantly. Even with that much cola, the taste was very strong, it burned in the throat, felt like liquid fire and almost caused the young hybrid to tear up. He pressed his lips together and shut his eyes shut, wrinkling his nose. At the sight of that Schlatt couldn´t hold back his laughter, he gently petted his husband on the back. -This is why ya should always listen to me, pumpkin- after a few coughs, the young male opened his eyes again, filled with stubbornness and determination. -Lets….try another one…-

One shot was taken after another and every new one should be “the last one” but it never was. Quackity was already swaying from side to side, humming the Mexican anthem. -Pumpkin, ya clearly had enough.- the duckling made some effort to mumble some protest, reaching for the half empty glass in Schlatts hand, the ram hybrid tried to raise his arm higher, bringing it out of reach. Quackity continued to reach for it, getting already on Schlatts lap, tapping with his fingertips on his husbands wrist and giggling. The president rolled his eyes, when warm lips met his own, almost missing. The older hybrid wrapped one arm around his partners waist and this was a moment that was used by the younger one, he managed to grab the glass and after successfully separating their lips, he emptied the glass in one swing, chuckling afterwards and lying down on the couch. The ram hybrid sighed with a small smile, taking the glass out of his husbands shaken hand and placing it on the table, that was now stained with liquid, which will surely cause some troubles later…but this was a problem of tomorrow. -Mmm…Schlaaatt- the ram hybrid looked down at his husband with a questioning look. -U…y..you know what I think…what I think….when I look at your face?...you…you know?- the president smirked, guessing what it could be. -That I should shave?- the duck hybrid reached with his arms up, placing both of his hands on Schlatts cheeks, cupping his face. -Na…I…I think that you are so…so bea…bue..be…pretty!- the older mans face flushed and he looked away for a moment, trying not to laugh. -You are such an idiot….- the next moment Schlatt looked down, he almost froze, his husband was on the verge of tears, he was about to start apologising, when Q already opened his mouth to speak. -I….I luv you so much…I…I feel like…I am not saying that enough…but…but you deserve that so….so much…I…you are…you are the best that happened to me…and…s..sometimes…I think that you deserve so much more..and…- further there were way more hiccups and sniffling. For a moment, the ram hybrid felt lost and at the loss of words but this didn´t last for too long. He lied down next to his husband and carefully made him lie down on him, wrapping his arms around him and placing kisses all over his face, earning some soft giggles. -I love you too…and hey…You are the best that I could ever ask for…okay? I….you don´t need to say how much you love me every time…I know that you do. I mean…who else would deal with me when I do something stupid? Or when I become so stubborn that I wouldn´t even move my desk to a different position because the sun blinds me? Or when I refuse to admit that I am wrong which let to us having now around ten thousand sheeps because we needed less then hundred once but I added some superfluous zeroes because I didn´t sleep in two days?- at least now Quackity started to giggle again, enjoying the sensation of soft kisses on his forehead, cheeks, tip of his nose. -Y…yeah….that was funny to explain….we will never need any wool again…- he opened his eyes again, smiling gently and placing his hands on his husbands soft ears, gently stroking over the fluffy part. -Mmm…you are the only sheep I need- Q whispered with admiration, causing Schlatt to smirk. -This is probably….the best worst line that I ever heard from you…..mi amor.-

#schlackity #pumpkinduo #pumpkin husbands #jschlatt #schlatt #quackity #dsmp #dream smp #drunk quackity #duckling #I tried #hope you like it #who needs sleep? not me definetly #I had less errors in this piece than I usually have and I didn´t sleep since nine AM

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foxofninetales · 3 years

Text

Liu Sang Watcher’s Guide Part 6

Link to part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Whistle, My Love, And I Will Come To Thee

The Lost Tomb Reboot Season 1

Episode 7

36:05-37:00

It is revealed Liu Sang spends the entire time after the failed prank lurking 200 meters back from the Triangle, like someone whose joke fell so flat at a party that he has to go hang out in the backyard until everyone else goes home. Most. Relatable. Character. Ever.

Liu Sang is not wasting his shame-induced alone time, though - he's busy mapping out the tomb.

At this point we all completely lose track of the plot because he is Doing That To A Whistle. HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO COPE WITH THIS.

I just like the framing of this shot, okay.

More whistle molestation. Liu Sang: putting the “porn” in competence porn.

Zhang Qiling taps out to meet them in the main hall. Liu Sang tells him not to worry about him because OF COURSE he does.

Episode 8

Some kind of plot happens but there is no Liu Sang in this episode so what's the point?

Episode 9

30:15-31:37

Liu Sang gets the ominous feeling that SOMEONE just triggered another *bleeping* trap.

He uses his whistle more like a normal human this time, to our extreme disappointment.

Earring!

Hands!

NEVER MIND WHAT I JUST SAID ABOUT THE WHISTLE.

It was pretty much impossible to properly screencap the cocky little smirk he gives here, but it is AMAZING.

33:59-34:22

Yeah, you know how he told Zhang Qiling not to worry about him? He takes that back because no one told him about killer clams. Killer clams. THAT SHOULD NOT BE A THING.

Meanwhile, we all take a moment to be proud of our baby for actually knocking out a panicked message to ask for help. *growth.gif*

Pangzi grumbles, but the entirety of Wu Xie and Zhang Qiling's discussion of whether they should help or not consists of Wu Xie telling Zhang Qiling, "Be careful." Bless.

I couldn't capture any screencaps of Liu Sang running from the clams that weren't just blurry messes, so instead, have Zhang Qiling realizing that he may finally have encountered someone who needs rescuing more often than Wu Xie.

*Please feel free to use any of the screencaptures from these LSWG posts for your own purposes - crediting is appreciated but optional.

Gifset posts from this episode:

100% pure whistle porn by @canary3d-obsessed

Rescuing Liu Sang by @kholran

Link to part 7

#dmbj #the lost tomb reboot #liu sang #liu sang watcher's guide

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caranfindel · 3 years

Text

Fic: You don’t know how it feels (to be me)

gen, s6 | about 3600 words | pg for language | characters: soulless sam winchester, dean winchester

synopsis: Soulless Sam tries to deal with his brother's feelings about, well, everything. Including his hair. Set in season 6, before "You Can't Handle the Truth."

An idea I had a long time ago, resuscitated by Jared's Walker haircut. The title is from "You Don't Know How It Feels" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

. . . . . .

It's a stupid case.

The manager of the county fairgrounds is a stooped, gnarled old man wearing one of those ball caps veterans wear sometimes. Gold embroidery on the dark blue hat proudly displays the name of his ship or submarine or whatever. Sam doesn't care about his ship or submarine or whatever. He doesn't care about this guy's service at all. Most days, old Blue Hat here got three meals a day and a warm, dry place to sleep in exchange for whatever he gave up. He got a pension when he was done fighting. Sam gets to scrounge for cheap food and sleep in crappy hotels when he's lucky enough to actually land someplace other than the back seat of the Impala. Sam's service to his country earned him a trip to Hell. Sam will get to stop fighting when he's dead. His only pension will be a pyre.

Sam doesn't even get to sleep any more.

(This should bother him. But the truth is, it doesn't.)

Blue Hat frowns at Sam's ID and snorts derisively. "You don't look like a Fed. You look like a goddamn hippie."

He rolls his eyes at the old man, even though he knows Dean hates it when he does that. It's something he didn't do Before, no matter how annoying or insipid the witness. Sam doesn't give a good goddamn what this guy thinks about his hair, but apparently his brother does. "He's been doing some undercover work," Dean says. "Sometimes you've got to look like a goddamn hippie to blend in."

Blue Hat sniffs his disapproval and ignores Sam for the rest of the interview, directing all of his answers to Dean. Which is fine. The old guy doesn't seem to have anything useful to add anyway. Sam leaves his brother to the pointless interview about the stupid case and wanders around the building, taking pictures of the unexplained runes that brought them here. He's bored. The sudden appearance of mysterious runes on the bland metal exterior of a county fairgrounds building feels witchy, and Sam really doesn't care about witches. Two measly deaths, quite possibly from natural causes, and now he's out here standing in cow shit. Or goat shit or pig shit. This entire day has been shit, literally and figuratively.

Dean joins him after a couple of minutes, apparently done with Blue Hat. "What do you think?" he asks.

Sam shrugs. "Too early to tell. If these runes are what Bobby thinks they are, they'll change under moonlight, but moonrise isn't until 9:05 pm."

“Jesus," Dean moans. "I can't stay awake that long. I've already gone almost two days. Let's go back to the motel and crash, and we'll hit this place again tonight."

Or not, Sam wants to say. I think you jumped on this paper-thin excuse for a job just because the alternative was sitting in a motel room with me waiting for an actual case to come up, Sam wants to say. But neither of these are things he would have said Before, and Dean is so goddamn twitchy about Sam being different than Before.

As they turn back to the Impala, Dean glances at Sam with a slight smile. "Dude's not wrong, you know."

“What?"

“You do look like a goddamn hippie." Dean's hand twitches toward Sam, like he's going to smack him on the back of the head or ruffle his hair, but he pulls back without touching him. Because they don't do that now. Casual, good-natured, brotherly contact isn't a thing now. Dean doesn't touch him unless there are injuries involved.

(This is another thing that should bother Sam. It would have, Before.)

. . .

Dean hangs his suit in the closet, sets an alarm, and collapses on top of the covers. Sam stares at his own bed. The threat of spending hours pretending to be asleep makes his skin crawl. If Dean falls asleep quickly enough, he can skip the whole charade.

“Hey, I think I'm gonna shower first," he says.

Dean doesn't open his eyes. "Just don't wake me up when you get out."

In the bathroom, Sam turns on the water but doesn't get undressed. He stands at the mirror, staring at his too-long hair. Why has he bothered to hold onto it? He remembers caring about his hair. He remembers it being a small fuck you to John, the one area in his life where he was able to cling to some autonomy. It's not that he's forgotten about that; he just doesn't give a shit any more.

And like Dean said, Blue Hat wasn't wrong. He does look like a hippie. The hair is a hazard, and it does clash with any kind of law enforcement disguise. Maybe it's time to do something about it. He has time to kill anyway, while Dean sleeps.

(Sam should care that he doesn't need to sleep any more. Dean would definitely care, if he found out. Dean cares so much about any aspect of Sam that is less normal than he thinks it ought to be. Even if it's something that makes him a better hunter. Dean didn't appreciate it when Sam could exorcise demons without killing the host, and Dean wouldn't appreciate that Sam can get so much done when he's not sleeping. He could never understand why this version of Sam is so much better than the way he was Before. It's a shame Dean hasn't discovered the option of Not Caring.)

(Sometimes Sam wonders if getting back with Dean is worth the trouble.)

(And that should bother him too.)

Sam shuts off the shower and pulls out his phone. He needs to find a barber shop in walking distance. Dean will get all pissy if he wakes up and the car is gone; less so if only Sam is missing. Luckily, there's a shop that might still be open. It's one of those ridiculous sports-themed places that presumes men are fussy toddlers who need to be distracted from the ignominy of a hair cut. At least they tend to be staffed by women, and those women tend to be prettier than average. With any luck, he can kill two birds with one stone.

When he opens the bathroom door, Dean is either asleep, or pretending to be. Sam scrawls couldn't sleep, back soon on the motel notepad and closes the door behind him as silently as possible.

(He misses his car. He didn't have an emotional attachment to it, like Dean and the Impala, but it was convenient and it suited him.)

(He doesn't actually have an emotional attachment to anything. That should bother him.)

. . .

Two stylists, both predictably prettier than average, look up when he walks in. The redhead says "sorry, sir, we're just about to close up," and continues sweeping up hair trimmings. But the brunette looks him up and down and smiles. And Sam's partial to brunettes anyway.

He gives her a once-over in return and smiles back. "Do you have time for just a quick cut? I'd be eternally grateful."

She stares at him for a minute, appraising. "Well, how could I turn down an offer of eternal gratefulness?" she says with a wink. She turns to the redhead. "Why don't you go on home. I've got this."

The redhead dumps her clippings into a trash can. "You sure?"

"I'm sure. You mind locking the door behind you? I don't want any more last-minute customers walking in."

The redhead raises her eyebrows, but gathers her purse and jacket and makes her escape as Sam settles into the brunette's chair.

“I'm Marianne," she says, as she starts to drape a cape over his shoulders.

“I'm Sam. But listen. I get too hot under those capes. Would it be okay if we skip it? And I just take my shirt off so I don't get hair all over it?"

Marianne smiles like the cat who caught the canary. "Not a problem, sweetheart."

Sam slips out of his dress shirt and drapes it over the empty chair next to him. Marianne watches him the whole time, eyes roving over the muscles exposed by his snug white undershirt. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.

He sits back in the chair and Marianne stands behind him. Her chest brushes against his shoulders. "So," she asks, "what are we doing today?"

“Shorter. Off my collar, above my ears."

She slips her fingers through his hair, measuring its length. "You sure? This length looks pretty good on you. Just needs to be cleaned up a bit."

“It's for a job. The long hair doesn't fly any more."

“Aw, that's a shame." Marianne's still running her fingers through his hair. "If you've got a lady in your life, I bet she'll miss it. A girl likes something to hold onto."

Well. The best lies are based on a kernel of truth. Sam looks into his lap and lets his smile go sad and soft. "That's kind of why I'm here. My girlfriend died and I thought I'd try to start over. New place, new job, new life. But yeah, that's always been one of my favorite things. A girl grabbing my hair in the heat of the moment. I should have tried to find someone to do that one more time before I had to cut it off."

Marianne leans forward, pressing her breasts harder against him. When he looks up, she meets his eyes in the mirror, then flicks a glance toward a door marked Employees Only. “You know," she says, "that could probably be arranged."

Seriously. Fish in a goddamn barrel.

. . .

Dean's awake when Sam gets back to the motel room, but he doesn't look up from the laptop. "Couldn't sleep?"

“I guess I napped a little in the car on the way down here," Sam lies. "And then, you know, a lot of caffeine this morning."

“Whatever. I'm not the sleep police. I hope you brought food, cause I could —" Dean looks at Sam and stops mid-sentence, mouth still open. "You cut your hair?"

“Yeah."

“Why?"

“What do you mean, why? Like old what's-his-face said, I looked like a hippie, not an FBI agent. And you've been telling me to cut it for years."

“Yeah, I have. I've been saying that for years and you've been ignoring me for years. Now some random witness calls you a hippie and you go running to Supercuts?"

Sam sighs. Dean may not be the sleep police, but he's awfully eager to step in as the hair police, enforcing his own set of laws about Sam's hair. "Why does it matter? You wanted me to cut it. Everyone wanted me to cut it. And I cut it. Can we move on now?"

It's a statement almost guaranteed to make Dean bow up in anger, but instead, he deflates. "It's just… nothing. Fine. Moving on." He closes the laptop and pulls his keys out of his coat pocket. "We've still got an hour or so before moonrise. I'm gonna go run through McDonald's. You want a chicken sandwich, or is that something else you're not interested in any more?"

Jesus Christ. This is what passes for moving on. But Sam needs that shower now, and none of this is worth arguing about.

(Few things are any more. That seems like it should matter.)

“Yeah, that sounds great, thanks."

By the time Dean gets back, the sandwich is cold and the ice in Sam's drink is mostly melted. He pretends to enjoy it anyway.

. . .

Their drive back to the fairgrounds is quiet. Dean occasionally steals an unhappy glance at Sam's hair, but doesn't say anything. Sam ignores it.

They pull into the parking lot in front of the marked building. Without even getting out of the car, they can see that the runes have changed. The broad strokes are softly luminescent, glowing a pale blue in the moonlight.

“Okay, so that answers that question," Sam says. Thank God. Now they can leave without wandering around the grounds, soaking up the barnyard smell again. Wrap this up and start working on something more important. But Dean gets out of the car and looks at Sam expectantly. Well, crap. Sam dutifully follows him closer to the building and tries to think of how he would have felt about this development Before.

“Cool," he says. Dean narrows his eyes at him. "I mean, cool that our theory was right. Not, you know, cool that someone is using this kind of spellwork to make sure their pig wins a blue ribbon at the fair. That part's… pretty awful." But Dean's still looking at him funny, so he probably overcorrected on that one. It's just hard, any more.

Dean rubs the back of his neck as he examines the glowing runes. "If that's all they're doing, more power to them. I couldn't care less. But we need to make sure that's all they're doing. I mean, people died, Sam. We need to figure out if this is why." He pulls out his phone. "Gonna take some pictures to send Bobby." There's no reason to remind him they already have pictures. If Dean thinks additional pictures are more effective and efficient than "just like this, but glowing blue," that's up to him. Sam will most likely solve the damn case later tonight anyway, while Dean sleeps.

And he almost does. Dean knocks back a couple of glasses of whiskey when they get back to the motel, and falls asleep pretty soon after that. Sam doesn't bother to feign sleep — Dean doesn't seem to care, right now, whether his brother gets any sleep or not. But when Sam realizes his own photos missed a crucial corner of the building, he opens his brother's phone and finds his last text to Bobby. There's only one picture, and it's not glowing runes. It's him. Just a dark, slightly blurry picture of Sam, obviously taken earlier that night at the fairgrounds. And a text conversation.

See, I told you, it's short. I don't know what's going on. I swear he's just different.

Yeah, I get it. It's different. He's different. But what'd you expect? Of course he's not the same as he was. Hell changed him.

It didn't change me this much.

His Hell wasn't the same as yours. I know it didn't last very long, but remember, he was in the cage with the devil. We don't know what happened to him in there. Give him some time.

Well. Fuck. Dean's talking about him behind his back. Dean doesn't trust him. Dean thinks, once again, that something is wrong with him.

(That would have hurt, Before. Now it's just an annoyance. A distraction. Something to be dealt with.)

Yes, Hell changed him. Hell burned away all the crap, all the useless feelings, the guilt and shame and fear of failure. Hell purified him. Hell carved out the weakness and left nothing but pure, strong hunter. Dean, of all people, should appreciate the result. But Dean does not, and now Sam has to cater to his tiresome attachment to everything Sam was Before.

Fine. He can make that work.

Sam quietly puts Dean's phone back on the nightstand. He strips down to boxers and his t-shirt, sets an alarm, and crawls into bed. Pretending to sleep is tedious, but a couple of hours of boredom right now might spare him weeks of Dean's moodiness about him being different.

(As if Hell could leave you untouched. As if anyone in their right mind would expect that. As if Dean himself didn't know this first hand, for fuck's sake.)

. . .

Sam spends the next day focusing on acting the way he did Before. When his alarm goes off he stretches, yawns, and pretends he had a good night's sleep. He goes for a run, brings back coffee, showers quickly, and rolls his eyes when Dean makes a crack about him being able to spend less time in the shower now. At breakfast, he smiles at the (cute, definitely worth a bang) waitress, but doesn't flirt or even check her out as she walks away. He's figured out that Dean wants Sam to want to get laid (but not too much; he's definitely not supposed to want it as much as Dean wants it) but for some reason doesn't want him to actually get lucky. And he definitely would have gotten lucky. He spends the day looking empathetic, acting like this whole thing hasn't been a colossal waste of time. Like he cares about everything. About anything.

(God, it's exhausting.)

It turns out the deaths probably don't have anything to do with the witch at all. They return to the fairgrounds one last time, where Sam plants hex bags and paints runes on the corners of the building that will block the witch's simple spells - not that he cares whether the witch achieves anything or not, just on principle. His own runes are small and subtle enough that this novice witch (they must be a novice; no one with any experience would be naive enough to make their work so noticeable) won't even know they're in place. And if the witch escalates, well, that's not exactly Sam's problem.

When he's finished, he wipes his hands on his jeans and says "We should get Chinese for dinner. When's the last time you ate a vegetable?" Because monitoring everyone's vegetable intake is something he did Before.

They're finishing Chinese takeout in their motel room (beef with broccoli for Dean, eggplant in garlic sauce for Sam, because occasional bouts of vegetarianism were also a thing he did Before) when he catches Dean looking at his hair, very clearly wanting to say something.

So. It's go time.

Sam tries to make his eyes big and sad. The puppy dog look, Dean always called it. It was never intentional Before, but now he has to work at it. "Listen," he says. "I owe you an apology. I haven't been telling you the whole truth."

“No shit," Dean says. He's trying to sound nonchalant, but his body language screams that he's bracing for something. "So, spill it. What's your big confession?"

(That I don't care about any of this. This piddly little case. My hair. You. Nothing. And you can't imagine, Dean, you cannot even begin to imagine the incredible freedom of not caring. I wish you could, but you just can't.)

No, he can't say any of that. But the best lies are built on a kernel of truth.

Sam takes a deep, anxious breath and looks at Dean. No, wait. Look away. "You know, I told you I don't remember Hell. And I really don't. Not consciously, anyway. But when we were fighting those demons a couple of weeks ago, one of them grabbed me by the hair, and I felt something… it was a sense memory, I guess. It felt like Hell, for some reason. Like it was something that happened to me in Hell, someone grabbing my hair and pulling my head back and getting ready to cut my throat or… whatever."

He doesn't have to elaborate on whatever. Dean knows the whatevers of Hell better than anyone. He's probably dealing with a little sense memory of his own right now, of clutching someone's hair and pulling their head back in preparation for whatever. And now Sam does look at his brother, who is staring at him with wide, horrified eyes.

“Ever since then," Sam continues, "I just feel like I've been on the verge of remembering something. Something I don't want to remember. And I'm tired of worrying that I'm gonna have a Hell flashback every time I wash my hair."

Dean looks like he's going to vomit. Perfect.

“I'm sorry," Sam says. "It threw me, and I just didn't want to talk about it. But I shouldn't have kept it from you."

For a second, he's sure he has gone too far. Dean is going to say what's this bullshit, Sam, you would never apologize for something like that, so tell me what's really going on. But he doesn't. He stares at Sam for a minute, then looks away and wipes a hand down his face.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. You, ah. You good now? Is it working?"

Sam shrugs. "Hard to say. It hasn't been very long. But yeah, I feel a little more… stable, I guess."

And then it’s time to go for the kill.

Sam gives him the sad smile. (He never used to think of it as a sad smile; never used to think of it as anything at all. It was just what his face did. Every expression requires so much thought now.) "Listen. I know things are weird. I know I'm weird. Different. I know it's hard for you. If this is all more than you want to deal with right now, I understand."

Dean frowns. "What are you saying?"

“Just, I can go back with Samuel and his crew if you don't want to do this any more. You and me, I mean. No hard feelings, I promise."

Dean's face crumples. "What? No, fuck, no, Sam. I don't. You and me, we're good. I'm just getting used to things. That's all."

“Okay." Sam gives his best approximation of a grateful smile.

“So. Uh." Dean looks around the room nervously, like he's waiting for the other shoe to fall, then stands. "I think I'm gonna go get a drink. You wanna come with, or…"

Even if Sam believed Dean really wanted him to come along — and he doesn't; this is obviously Dean's way of retreating from a situation he doesn't want to think about — pretending to sleep when Dean's gone is one of the easier ways of making it look like he actually does sleep sometimes. "No. I'm beat," he says. "I think I'll just go to bed."

“Okay. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea." Dean takes his keys out of his pocket and anxiously tosses them in his hand. When he finally does turn to Sam, he looks at his hair, not his eyes. "Hey, you know, it does. It does look good on you."

Sam ducks his head shyly, like someone who's not used to praise. Who doesn't think he deserves it. "Thanks." When he looks up, Dean is already halfway out the door, putting as much space between himself and his little brother's hellscape as possible.

(Seriously. Fish in a fucking barrel.)

#my fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #soulless sam is my spirit animal #spn #season 6

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mickstart · 3 years

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what do you think are some iconic/memorable schumi moments? i just got into f1 and would like to know more about him bc somehow i can’t really find anything like that about him.... just stats which are incredibly impressive but i can’t find anything about how he behaved or just anything about his personality..... thanks <3

:) Hi anon, thank you for unleashing the beast.

Ok I love you for asking me this thank you SO MUCH. Welcome to the circus I’m glad you’re here! Also yeah, Schumi is often talked about in terms of statistics and not as a human, Which is a shame bc like! Schumi is fascinating and the dynamics on the grid in late 90s F1 is so much fun! Also, this is mainly going to be late 90s -> early 2010s stuff bc I was born in 98 so uhhh I didn’t properly witness ANY 90s stuff and had to learn about it.

OK so I got super carried away but I’ve divided this into 3 sections: Drives/races that I think showcase some of his talents, human moments we need to talk about more, and Chaotic Little Bitch moments. The key thing to remember w/ Schumi is that he personally tends to be nice but as soon as you put him in a competition, Bastard Mode activates like a cat’s pupils going wide.

I am so sorry for the following short essay. Also some crashes are briefly mentioned but only ones with absolutely no injuries and there’s no details.

Chaotic Little Bitch Moments

Schumi debuted as a SUBSTITUTE driver for Jordan when one of their drivers was in police custody (yes. really.) The highest a Jordan had qualified all year was 10th and in his DEBUT at SPA, one of the toughest tracks, in the middle of the season, Schumi qualified that Jordan 7th! THEN his clutch failed before the first lap was even complete, but Benetton and Jordan WENT TO COURT to fight each other to sign him for their team before the next race in Monza. He couldn’t debut normally he HAD to cause a scene and set the tone.

The Red Strings of Fate: He qualified 7th, his iconic 7 starred helmet, his first victory next year was ALSO at Spa - his first complete race would be at Monza, Ferrari Holy Ground, and he finished 5th which 👀 1) he was immediately racing with The Greats. 2) Mr 5 Championships With Ferrari.

Winning a race by taking a stop and go penalty on the last lap, crossing the finish line in the pits, and making such a complicated argument about said penalty that in a hearing that was SUPPOSED to be Mclaren protesting the race result the stewards scrapped the entire penalty and the 3 who awarded it handed in their licenses??? Iconic.

Austria 2002 where Rubens was ordered to give the win to Michael. And then Michael fucking made him stand on the top step on the podium like “oh no no no RUBENS deserves this” and made a big SHOW out of it and its like “Michael stop you’re not making it heartwarming you’re making it WORSE Michael STOP” The Tension of germany 2010 podium VS the theatricality of THIS podium.

Team orders were banned because of this which also makes this indirectly responsible for Fernando Is Faster Than You having to be a coded message. You can’t escape him,

Blocking Alonso in Monaco qualifying and then, years later in 2010, overtaking Alonso technically illegally at Monaco (the race was ending under safety car, but the safety car doesn’t lead them over the line it pits and they’d crossed the safety car line and the regulations were NOT specific about the rules) and getting a 20 second penalty bc Damon Hill was a steward. Haunting FERNANDO specifically at Monaco like the ghost of christmas past? Getting a harsh penalty because ANOTHER driver he’d fucked over was a steward? Forcing the FIA to rewrite the rulebook to account for his nonsense when he was in his FOURTIES? I don’t know another chaos king.

Winning the 1995 championship by crashing into Damon Hill, getting AWAY with it for some reason, and then trying to do the same thing in 1997 to Villeneuve, failing to do so and simply rebounding off of him harmlessly, almost COMICALLY, and beaching his own car in a gravel trap at which point the FIA said “I have had ENOUGH of you Wacky Races Man!” and disqualified him from the entire championship

Forcing Mika off the track so bad at Spa 2000 that Mika realized the only way he was gonna be able to get past him was to re-invent the overtake and go for it whilst they were passing a backmarker. (The overtake itself is at 2:05 in the video but the build up to it is Important bc the key part it’s not just badass, it only happened bc Mika knew who he was dealing with.)

Spa 1998 was a Ridiculously Chaotic race it truly was the Mugello 2020 of its year, and after a crash at the start that took out almost the entire grid Schumi accidentally collided with Coulthard later in the race. (The teams used to have a spare car at every race then, so the race was able to continue after a restart.) This wasn’t a racing thing, Coulthard was getting lapped. So something in Schumi SNAPS, and he storms down the pitlane and tries to fight Coulthard while the mclaren and ferrari mechanics both hold him back and finally drag him away. He projected into the future, saw Coulthard was gonna talk non-stop shit about Seb, and acted accordingly.

Monaco 2012 Pole don’t talk to me about this I still can’t believe the audacity of this man to get the only pole of his comeback, at MONACO, at the ONE RACE where he had a 5 place grid penalty to take!!

In general, I know Cheating Bad but. I HAVE to admire the brainpower it must take to have the rulebook so memorized that whilst driving an F1 car Schumi could spot a loophole the size of the eye of a needle and then dance through it, forcing the FIA to add ANOTHER page to the rule book specially for him bc nobody else even REALISED that loophole existed.

Human Moments

A quick rant about Mika and Schumi’s entire friendship. After Spa 2000 Mika goes up to Michael, says something like “Don’t ever do that again” then they’re friends again. They had this mutual understanding that Racing was not Reality. This goes all the way back to their F3 days they were rivals AND friends for their entire career. They truly were the Sewis of the era if Sebastian was like 50% more evil. Their entire dynamic is “You’re the only motherfucker in this pit lane who can handle me”. Schumi would do some bullshit and every other driver would throw up their hands in frustration and Mika would just go “Okay” and drive better to put him in his place bc he was the only one who could keep up, and Schumi very visibly LOVED that he’s grinning after Mika owns his entire ass with that overtake at Spa. They were unstoppable force meets immovable object and I’m so sad their rivalry isn’t more talked about bc the way Mika is the only driver who can get him to behave like a normal human being is SO entertaining.

This is a sad one so I won’t link it but he started crying in the 2000 Monza press-conference with his brother and Mika when he equaled one of Senna’s records. The press kept trying to ask questions about it and Mika just has this death grip on his shoulder and tries to get them to stop or let them take a break and it’s so sad but also important to know about.

Once said he didn’t want Mick to race in F1 bc the pressure of his name would put Mick under so much stress and he wanted his son to be happy. (He fully supported Mick in his endeavors! But only after making absolutely sure it was what Mick wanted, and making sure he knew he could just race for fun if he wanted and it didn’t have to be F1)

This whole interview just after Mick was born with the Schumacher family. Special shout out to Gina on his head the entire video and also Corinna talking to the press while Michael is captivated by Mick. Me too Michael.

Once allegedly pleaded to take a stray kitten home from the track?

I reblogged this yesterday but. Sticking like glue to Sebastian at an F1 test and immediately being like “This is my new son he’s gonna go far”. There’s a lot of pictures out there also of Michael being a guest at the karting races Seb went to as a kid and baby Seb visibly losing his fucking mind at being given a trophy by his idol. Every day of my life I think about him trying to ruffle Seb’s hair through his helmet at Brazil 2012

WInning the championship in 2000. Him thanking the entire team individually and pausing mid-celebration to kiss his wife Corinna so tenderly it’s in the F1 opening. Also, the way it literally cuts from the rest of McLaren looking like they’re attending a funeral to Mika grinning at him and hugging him fucking SENDSSSSS me.

Schumi was a little shit in all the 2010-12 press conferences like, lowering Lewis’ chair, playing with a microphone wire, but ESPECIALLY corrupting baby Seb and getting him to mess with Nico Rosberg.

He’s just GOOFY! Like I refuse to let him be remembered as a terrifying force of nature he was so goofy kind of similarly to Seb. PLEASE watch this incredibly awkward interview he did with Coulthard on a golf buggy where they both had to pretend they hadn’t thought about murdering each other at least once. I think Sky F1 should force Brocedes to do this when covid’s over. “Do you mind if I drive?” “Yes.”

EDIT: I CANNOT BELIEVE I forgot the 1999 Canada press conference where Eddie Irvine and Mika Hakkinen get into a water fight and Schumi immediately grabs a towel and hides behind it and is like “I had NOTHING to do with it” 🥺 adorable, actually

A lot of people at Ferrari, including Rob Smedley (who was on the other side of the garage with Felipe Massa so not in his inner circle) have said that a lot of the success of the team came from Schumi’s LEADERSHIP more than anything, that he’d make the team get together to bond all the time. When Schumi moved to Ferrari in 1996 they were NOT dominant. He did the same thing Lewis did - went to a team that everybody said would be a huge mistake and helped build them up behind the scenes.

THIS bit of the Canada 2011 Rewind where his engineer gives him the strategy and he’s like “... OkaAaAaAay?” and then when it turns out to be the wrong strategy he cheerfully tells them it’s too late. Little shit.

Speaking of Mercedes I also wanna say that like. They were a MESS in 2012 and his car DNF’d because of a failing on their part MULTIPLE times. (In Canada qualifying his DRS was stuck open and they couldn’t close it.) He did not say a single bad word about them EVER even though the press used this to attack him non-stop as washed-up and bad without Ferrari to cheat for him. At Ferrari he was the exact same with the team, any bastard antics Schumi had for his rivals did not extend to the engineers and crew.

OK this one is soured bc Top Gear is trash BUT if you were like, a kid in England who followed motorsports? Schumi’s fake reveal as The Stig on Top Gear was like the coolest, sickest thing,

Please view this image of Schumi and Mika when they were young and stupid

Iconic Races

ok so I have limited myself to a few races that show off some of his key strengths!

Hungary 1998 / France 2004 - STRATEGY/SPEED - Schumi switched to a 3 stop strategy in 98 and a FOUR STOP strategy in 04 and won both races. In order for the strategy call to work he’d have to basically make every single lap a qualifying style ‘flying lap’ and you best fucking believe he DID THAT. God I fucking miss when Ferrari was the king of strategy.

Argentina 1998 - has it all. Talent, battling Mika, pit lane mind games with mclaren, and bullying coulthard xxx

Spain 1996 / a majority of the wet races - RAIN - One of Schumi’s nicknames was Rain Master bc he was so fucking good in the wet. If it started raining and you were a Schumi stan you were cackling evilly before the red lights even went out. I single out 1996 bc it was his first win for Ferrari and it was unexpected but in most wet races, even Canada 2011 post comeback, you can see Schumi thriving.

Malaysia 1999 - Schumi missed pretty much the entire second half of the season with a broken leg, came back for the last 2 races with everybody murmuring about whether he would struggle, and immediately put the Ferrari on pole. Also worth noting is that he was the number 2 driver for these 2 races bc his teammate Irvine was fighting Mika for the championship and he went along with that without complaint, allowing Ferrari to win the constructor’s championship if not the driver’s.

Monza 2002, 03, 04, or 06 just because it has the energy of the tifosi kneeling at the feet of an idol to their red god.

Brazil 2006 - Fuck All Y’all - Schumi’s last race for Ferrari. He got a puncture and ended up almost lapped, and then drove his way back from that to 4th bc he couldn’t go out without reminding us he’s a bad bitch.

Monza 2012 - Defending - Don’t tell F1 Twitter that there’s actual footage of Lewis and Michael having a genuine lengthy battle on track but DO watch Michael defending like a motherfucker and Lewis breathing down his neck for half the race we need to talk about this more.

Valencia 2012 - This isn’t necessarily anything special but I cried in my living room over the only podium of his comeback so it goes on here. It doesn’t have the same impact if you haven’t been watching him struggle with the car for years, DNF-ing from car failure most of 2012, and having BBC F1 telling you he’s washed up every single weekend, but you can just enjoy one of the best drives of FERNANDO’S entire career as he DRAGS that Ferrari by its hair to a home grand prix win and then watch the crowds embrace him like jesus and also Schumi being happy on the podium. Also, the very start of this clip from the press conference: him forgetting what language he’s supposed to be speaking

Basically, Schumi was a hyper-competitive ambitious bitch who turned into a goofball as soon as he switched the engine off. This is by NO MEANS everything if I was making an exhaustive best races guide I’d do more research and another post but I hope this is what you were looking for?? THANK YOU SO MUCH for letting me go MAXIMUM SPECIAL INTEREST and I apologize.

#asks #Schumi #Mika #Alonso #long post #god I'm so fucking sorry #Anonymous #This is not comprehensive bc I didn't want to accidentally turn this into a whole research project especially if you're new to it!

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sondepoch · 4 years

Text

50 Days Before Rebellion

All Hail (Diavolo x Reader)

The current ruling class is brutal. Draconian. Tyrannical. Every demon who has sat the throne for the past ninety thousand years has brought nothing but hardship to the Devildom—something Diavolo and his father intend to remedy by seizing power as leaders of the Resistance. When Diavolo happens to come across the princess of the Devildom, he’s overjoyed. He sees you as an opportunity, a sign from a higher power that his cause is just; and he plans to use you as a pawn in his Rebellion. But life rarely goes as planned, especially in Hell. And when Diavolo realizes that he’s falling in love with you, things suddenly feel a lot more complicated than they used to be.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | ✔

MASTERLIST

The world has finally slowed down.

The wind is calmer now. The blades of grass that tickle Diavolo's sides don't poke into his skin, merely brushing by as the tips bend back and forth with the breeze. The vines on the trees don't seem to swing so ominously anymore, instead swaying to and fro as if dancing to the lilting melody that escapes your lips as you hum an unfamiliar tune.

The animals on the cliffside seem equally entranced by the picture of peace, undead chipmunks no longer scurrying in a rush as they instead watch the two of you from a distance, all of them mesmerized. A few brave creatures draw close enough to sniff at Diavolo's feet.

Indeed, the world truly has slowed down.

Diavolo can close his eyes and feel the rhythm of the Devildom ground lurking just under the hum of your voice, pulsing silently to the beat of magic. And indeed, even that is fainter than Diavolo recalls, everything around him muted and subdued but the sensation of your touch.

He opens his eyes lazily, studying your face. Your focus remains on his hair, of course, determined to free the red locks that have been knotted for so long. It's only an issue of convenience that Diavolo is allowed to rest his head on your thighs as you work, fingers feeling blissfully sweet even when they tug sharply on the strands that are so deeply entangled.

She's a goddess, the demon thinks, eyes studying your surreal beauty as he observes you from this new angle. He can never grow used to the sight of your face, not fully. No matter how beautiful you look in his mind's eye, reality is always sweeter. It's as if his brain truly cannot process something as wondrous as you, and your brilliance is brighter than anything Diavolo will ever be able to comprehend.

A goddess I must slay, the demon adds in shame, extending a hand up to cup your face as you work, caressing your jaw from this new angle.

"What is it, darling?" You murmur, never taking your eyes off Diavolo's hair as you address him. "Am I hurting you?"

You pause your work, withdrawing the shark tooth comb to massage his scalp a bit.

"No, not at all." Diavolo smiles. "Just thinking about how much I'd like to kiss you."

And how, one day, I will be unable to.

You laugh at that, a rich melody spilling from your lips that Diavolo wishes he could bottle in a jar, but it builds in your throat and bursts like a firework, gracing the air with its presence as every animal pauses to bask in the sound.

"You're so silly, do you know that?" You don't wait to lean forward, kissing Diavolo upside down on the lips before another giggle escapes you.

You're about to pull away, then. About to withdraw, about to return to toying with the demon's hair until it finally takes the shape you're envisioning. But before you can so much as lift your upper body, Diavolo's arms have shot up to grip your waist, making use of the full scope of his strength to lift you off the ground and flip you atop him, ignoring your undignified screech upon being thrust into the air.

"Rule four," Diavolo mumbles into your ear, snaking an arm around your waist as he traps you in the same inescapable grip you've held him in so many times before. "Never let your opponent catch you off-guard."

The demon smirks.

"That's in combat, you absolute buffoon," You mumble, swatting Diavolo's hands in an attempt to get him to let go. Of course, the demon ignores you entirely, rolling you onto your side to nuzzle your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses.

As usual, you can only pretend to resist him for so long before you relax in his arms, grumbling quietly about his hair.

"You can work on my hair later, love," Diavolo mumbles, breathing in your scent deeply, wishing he could mark you with his own.

"You've been saying that for the past month, Diavolo," You chide. "That's how it got so tangled in the first place."

But the demon ignores your words entirely, grinning as he continues to kiss up and down your body until the only sounds that leave your mouth are gasps of quiet contentment. "Diavolo," You mumble when his hands slip beneath your robe, his skin finding your bare shoulder now that it's no longer hidden by silk.

"D-Diavolo," You repeat when he pulls your robe down just the slightest, savoring the softness of your skin. Indeed, it's softer than any fabric he's ever touched, smoother and sweeter, and he just wants to go a little lower to see if—"Diavolo," You gasp, stiffening in his hold as you grab the robe he had been slipping down your shoulder.

"What?" The demon asks in alarm, eyes wide. You've never looked so uncomfortable in his hold. "Darling?" He asks, leaning back. "Was this not okay? Fu—I mean, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

"No," You mumble, eyes still not fully set on the demon. Diavolo follows your concerned gaze, his eyebrows furrowing when he doesn't see anything. But then he studies the ground a little more and his eyes fall upon what has you frozen so uncomfortably, and the demon groans as you try to explain.

"There's a baby squirrel watching us."

You feel kind of bad.

You didn't mean to let that undead squirrel cockblock Diavolo earlier, but it felt so unnatural to do anything intimate with such youthful eyes watching. Of course, your lover had wasted no time in chasing the chipmunk away, but when he returned, the mood was completely lost, and you could only giggle while Diavolo scowled in annoyance, reluctantly letting you comb through the rest of his hair.

"Don't pout," You mumble, threading your hands through the red, watching your fingers disappear and reappear. You're quite proud of your work, given that Diavolo's hair looked worse than a stray dog's in the morning, and it's hard to stop savoring the fruits of your three-hour-long labor. "My mother used to say that if you frown like that, your face will get stuck that way."

"Was your mother also the one who taught you to be prim and proper around baby squirrels?" Diavolo practically hisses, and then you've descended into another fit of laughter while the demon continues to pout.

Ordinarily, you wouldn't mind jumping onto his lap and kissing him into oblivion, until he's so blissed out that the demon has no choice but to finish what you started so that you can fuck each other into oblivion like the demons you are. But the sight of those oh so innocent animal eyes lingers with you, and the most intimate thing you can do is press a peck to Diavolo's cheek before tugging him to his feet, where you stand in front of him with pride.

"I know what will make you feel better," You declare confidently, hands on your hips.

"Killing that baby squirrel? Yeah, I'd do it too, if I could catch the bastard."

"No," You mumble, rolling your eyes playfully. You square Diavolo's shoulders, pushing his fists to his chest before you take your own stance four feet away. "Combat." You grin. "Fight your frustrations out."

The usual phrase is to fuck your frustrations out, but you've never had a problem with making exceptions for Diavolo.

"Really?" The demon groans, arching an eyebrow. "I know this is part of your plan to train me for the next cage fighting season, don't think that I—"

"Oh, hush," You cut him off, frowning. It takes little effort for you to pretend to be offended. Of course, he's absolutely right with that guess, but you're not going to let him realize that until you've weaseled him into the actual season competition. "Physical activity is known to be one of the best methods for relieving frustration," You inform the demon, beginning to circle him. "And it's said that the more frustrations you're harboring, the better your performance will be."

"I can think of a much better physical activity to relieve stress than this," Diavolo mutters under his breath, adopting his own fighting stance.

"What's that?" You ask, wanting the demon to repeat himself.

"N-nothing," Diavolo mumbles, his ears turning red.

How cute.

You waste no time on straying on the thought, though. It takes all of four seconds for you to throw the first punch.

And then the fight has begun.

Diavolo's progress as a student has been impressive, to say the least. He's successfully followed your every instruction perfectly, and the once awkward, heavy-footed man has become nearly as adept and mobile as you. If anything, his overall power is now probably more than your own, given that his hulking frame allows him to pack more power in a single punch than you can ever hope to achieve without using magic, and now that his injuries have fully healed, there's nothing hindering his full potential.

It's out of sheer willpower that you've managed to retain your winning streak thus far.

Your eyes are impossibly alert as Diavolo dodges every arm, knee, elbow you try to hit him with. Your technique is simple: keep the overwhelmingly strong demon on defense until you break through his shield, and never allow him to use any of that explosive strength.

Except that your technique usually needs to change halfway through every fight.

It takes Diavolo less time than usual to turn the tables on you—a testimony to how irate he truly must have already been—and then you're the one defending, ducking and diving to avoid his every assault.

It's pure luck that the two of you happen to be sparring here, of all places. You noticed the way the grounds on this cliffside literally morph to your aid, the grass twisting to prevent you from ever stumbling and tree roots magically appearing whenever you need something to bounce off of. Initially, you assumed that the ground here was equally resourceful to Diavolo, but weeks upon weeks of sparring has taught you that you're the only one with the upper hand. And thank goodness for that—because if you and Diavolo were to spar in front of the Temple of the Grim Reaper, where the two of you are evenly matched with nothing to weigh the odds in your favor, you know you'd lose to the demon.

And someone being stronger than you is a feat that not even the current Victor can claim—the very reason you want Diavolo to enter the cage fights so badly.

You spring backward when Diavolo attempts to punch you in the chest, knowing that a single hit will knock you out if you face it head-on. Defending his kicks are a little easier, given that you can use your own legs to hold him back, but the days where the two of you would spar and you'd end the fight without Diavolo ever landing a hit on you are over. Now, you have to block each kick manually, nearly every attack too well-placed for you to successfully dodge.

The fight lasts a long time. Your bodies dance back and forth over the whole field, occasionally crossing into the swamp as you continue to attack and evade, hit and jump, dive and deflect.

As usual, you both steer clear of the cliffside, the sharp drop too large for either of you to ever risk falling into—but today, the fight seems to carry more weight. This one is longer, perhaps longer than any of them have ever been. And you're certain that Diavolo is beginning to realize that he just might be able to beat you.

You dart back as he throws another kick your way, hesitating briefly when you realize that you can't see the cliffside anywhere. You glance right as Diavolo punches, left when he thrusts an uppercut your way, and forward again as he tries to grab your throat—and only then do you realize that the cliffside must be behind you, and that the swamp is far too distant for you to have much space between the steep drop and your own current position.

You nearly stumble forward when Diavolo tries to grab your leg, momentarily fearful that you'll back off the side of the cliff, but then the abrupt realization that the demon is still fighting and kicking convinces you that you must be a suitable distance away from the drop, and you take another step backward.

What a terrible mistake.

There's a moment where you're awkwardly balanced on air, one leg holding you up while the other searches desperately for footing, and you and Diavolo exchange a look of pure fear.

And then you're falling.

Diavolo reacts quicker than you've ever seen him move, scrambling forward to grab your wrist, reaching for the right, fingers drawing closer and closer. You reach your hand out in a gesture of desperation, trying oh so desperately to grab his hand—but the demon switches gears completely and dives forward to reach your left hand, his finger wrapping around your weaker wrist before throwing your body over the cliffside, never letting go even as you fly over the cliffside and land back on the ground, where the demon traps you underneath his own frame.

You blink, abruptly unsure of how the demon managed to turn the tables so quickly when usually you would have been able to squirm out of his hold.

And a memory surfaces in your mind.

"Do you know what they say?" You continued, rambling on despite knowing that the demon didn't particularly care. "Sometimes, when you get injured, your body is even stronger when it heals back!"

"I'm sure," Diavolo said drily, sarcasm laced so thickly into his voice that there was no doubt he didn't believe your words.

"It's true!" You protested, pausing in wrapping his forearm in gauze to show the demon your wrist. "Look, can't you see the scar? I injured my wrist there a few centuries ago. And I thought it would trouble me for the rest of my life, but it healed wonderfully under the same herbs and treatments I'm giving you. And now, my right wrist is miles stronger than my left, even though my left is the one that's never been injured!"

Your eyes widen when you realize that the demon actually remembers your words from back then.

Within seconds, he's got one hand wrapped around your throat and the other continues to grip your left wrist, your stronger hand held under Diavolo's foot, which presses down insistently as you struggle.

"No way," You mumble, writhing once more in an attempt to escape his hold. But you've taught Diavolo well—too well—and his grip is unrelenting.

"Goddammit!" You shout in frustration, the fight filtering out of your body when you see how powerless you are in this position. "You—you cheated! That wasn't fair! You didn't fight honorably!"

But the underlying message is clear.

You lost.

The demon holds you for a second longer, the triumphant (and slightly awed) grin on his face almost melting your inner frustration at losing, but then he lets go, and his smile is so big and happy that you can't be even a little upset when he wraps you in a hug.

"I did it!" The demon shouts into your ear, and you flinch away at the noise. "I actually did it! I beat you!"

"You cheated," You mumble under your breath, looking away in mild embarrassment as the demon continues to celebrate.

"Maybe," Diavolo comments, eyes twinkling. "But you told me that everything's fair on the battlefield, and the fact remains that I won, and you lost."

"Yeah, yeah," You mumble, scowling. "Just rub it in, why don't you? And what would you have done if your little plan hadn't worked? Would you have just watched me fall off that cliff?"

"No," Diavolo says innocently, smiling. "I would have jumped off with you!"

Cue a firm smack on the back of the head.

Diavolo continues smiling, though, his mood completely lifted now that he's won a fight against you for the first time.

"Hey, hey," He mumbles, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. "Aren't you proud of me?" He asks. "Tell me how proud you are, darling," He kisses your neck. "Isn't it such a turn on that I'm stronger than you?"

"Yeah," You mutter under your breath, scowling. "You cheated. Very sexy."

But Diavolo pays you no heed, only continuing to kiss every inch of skin that's exposed, his tongue darting out to push your robe down.

"Diavolo," You warn, opening an eye to glance around in case there are any more baby squirrels watching. But when you find none, you relax a little more, leaning against the demon as he makes his way up to your ear, leaving a long, wet kiss against the shell.

"I can't stay too long," You mumble, though your words sound more like moans. "I have to...something...home…" You close your eyes fully when you feel teeth scrape your neck, too occupied with savoring the feeling of Diavolo to bother coming up with any of your terrible lies.

"Yeah right," The demon mumbles, his hand settling over your waist. "If you were actually going to leave, you would have left half an hour ago."

Your eyes snap open at that.

"What?" You flinch, instinctively glancing up at the moon. And, sure enough, it's position in the sky is much further along than where it usually is when you leave, and alarms begin blaring in your head. "Oh no," You mumble, gripping Diavolo's hand. "I'm so sorry, Diavolo, but I really do have to—"

"It's okay."

Diavolo smiles at you, a sweet and charming grin that melts your heart. "Go ahead, darling, and I'll be here when you come back at night."

"You don't want to return to the Temple of the Grim Reaper?" You ask, thinking about how much warmer the holy shelter you first brought him to is.

"Uh," Diavolo shoots a skeptical glance toward the swamp you're about to pass through on your way back to the palace. "I don't really want to cross the..."

"Swamp. Right," You mumble. You see a moment of offense flare in Diavolo's eyes, as if he still isn't sure whether you genuinely believe him when he claims that the swamp attacks him as he passes through it (which, to some degree you don't; but you know that it does something to him based on the sounds he makes when he follows you, so you're certain there's some truth to his words) before a calmer look passes through his eyes.

"We'll talk more when you get back, alright?" Diavolo offers you a silly smile, giving you a casual wink before he blows you a kiss.

"Alright," You mumble, already planning your nightly escape for when you'll return to spend more time with him. "And Diavolo?" You call, turning back.

The demon arches an eyebrow at you, already sitting back down on the ground where he probably intends to slumber for the next few hours.

"I really am proud of you."

"Thank you for the royal silks, princess! You truly are too kind!"

"I received your fruit bouquet, miss! You have my thanks!"

"I am in your debt, my lady! The decorative candles you sent were stunning!

"Princess, princess! Thank you for the flower arrangement!"

"My sister and I loved the dresses you sent, my lady! Thank you!"

You can barely hear the sound of your own thoughts as you pass through the halls of the palace, curtsying in response to every expression of gratitude, offering as many smiles as you can to those around you. It's impossible for you to properly acknowledge each of the maids and knights you delivered gifts to (and you now think that it may have been a better idea to have spread the presents out, rather than deliver them all on the same night), but you can't help the overwhelming satisfaction that fills your heart at seeing such merriment in the palace.

"Princess."

You instinctively curtsy at the knight who stands before you, assuming that he's another person who wishes to thank you for your gift—but a glance forward reveals that it's a familiar face, the very knight who's been keeping you company in the palace. When he holds his hand up, the remaining knights and maids who had been chasing after you to thank you grow silent, and you can feel the crowd disperse under his strict glare.

You toss a sheepish glance behind you, deciding that you'll properly talk to each individual person at a later date, and one-by-one rather than all at once, but a certain relief does fill your heart when you realize that they're not all clambering after you anymore.

"Thank you, Sire," You whisper to the knight in front of you, grinning. "I had not realized that my actions would cause such a stir in the palace."

"I believe I am the one who should be thanking you, princess." The knight gestures for you to walk ahead of him, as is customary for a knight and a princess, but you pull him into stride with you as you make your way to your quarters. "The painter you commissioned showed me some of his past works. I never expected that I would be painted at this young an age, and much less with a royal-caliber artist, but...you have my sincerest gratitude."

You beam at the man, not missing the faint flush on the knight's face when he sees your smile. "I'm glad you like him. He was the painter my parents commissioned to draw me when I turned of age, actually."

"Really?" The knight chokes. "You commissioned such a prestigious painter to draw a mere knight?"

You frown at that.

"You are not a mere knight. The fact that you are a knight alone should be a source of pride, Sire." You pause, realizing that you're at the door to your private chambers. But still, you don't enter. Nor do you dismiss the knight next to you.

"Princess?" The demon questions, glancing at you nervously.

"Are you proud to serve the crown, Sire?" The question is sharp, demanding an immediate answer.

"It will be an honor when I am allowed to serve under you," The knight responds swiftly, and you can tell from the way he says the words that he means them.

"But are you proud to serve the current crown?"

"Yes, princess."

But the flat inflection of the demon's voice is proof enough that the words are just that: words. They do not go deeper, they do not resonate with his heart, they do not march to the beat that he holds his weapon to. This knight may serve the crown but there is no pride there—a fact which brings a smile to your face.

"Sire," You call, urging him to face you. "Sire, I assure you that when I take the crown, I will not rule as my parents do. When the first snow falls, when the public learns the truth, when the world watches the Devildom take a new empress, there will be change everywhere."

A confident smile spreads across your face as you speak of the news your parents informed you of—the best news of your life. "When I step to the imperial throne at the end of this year, I will make you and every other knight proud to serve the royal palace. I will bring food, water, joy, and happiness to the poverty districts. I will restore balance to the laws of magic and permit its usage among those beyond the imperial family. I will withdraw our troops from the public's homes, and I will restore knights to their proper position of being defenders of the people rather than forced oppressors."

"I…" The demon trails off. "I believe you, princess. And when you become Empress upon the first snow of this year, I will be as devoted to your cause as you are. But why are you telling me this?"

"Because, Sire," You say, a small grin finding its way onto your face. "When the day comes where I become Empress, I will need a knight of honor. A knight solely devoted to me, my safety, and my life."

"And…" The demon trails off, his eyes growing wide.

"And I want you to take that position, Sire." You smile proudly at his utterly bewildered expression, warmth filling your heart at the pure joy that surfaces in his eyes. "Would you do me the honor?"

"O-of course, princess!" The knight practically shouts, dropping to a knee and drawing his sword instantly, offering it to you.

You take it from his hands proudly, testing the weight of the steel in your own grip before laying the blade from shoulder to shoulder to shoulder, saying the honorary words you memorized so many years ago. You know you'll need to repeat this all at a ceremony later, when you truly are Empress and there are witnesses, but the moment that this knight is bound to you begins now—and you know he will guard you with his life, whether the bond is formalized or not.

"I will guard you with my life, princess," The knight vows solemnly, looking up at you with eyes of pure adoration. "When you take the throne this winter, as the first snow graces the Devildom skies, I will be by your side, and I will defend you from now until the end of time."

You smile softly, letting the knight complete his vow.

"As long as I live, you shall be protected. As long as my sword stands between you and an enemy, I will fight for your life. As long as my body can move, as long as my heart beats, as long as the blood in my body is warm, there will be no threat great enough to harm you. I pledge my life, heart, mind, and soul to you, princess. I will be your shield and sword, and I am yours from this moment until the end of time. I give to you my future, and with it every ounce of my strength, pride, and loyalty, such that you are protected into eternity."

"Thank you, Sire," You whisper, placing a hand on his shoulders, watching him rise. "I trust you with my life."

The demon bows, his eyes meeting yours only when you urge him to, and then you recognize an unspoken curiosity that hadn't been there before.

"Sire," You call, urging him to be candid. "There is something else on your mind, is there not? Let there be no hesitation between us. Ask your question."

"Ah, well…" The demon trails off. "I was merely wondering if you or your parents had selected an Emperor to rule with you. You need not answer my question, of course, it's merely a curiosity. A trifling matter. Trivial, really. I don't mean to imply anything at all—"

"Sire." You cut him off smoothly, raising a hand. You offer him a sympathetic smile, quietly realizing that there must have been some hope in his mind that your heart would be unclaimed. After all, it's hardly rare for a knight and a princess to rule together—what better way to combine knowledge of the battlefield and politics than to wed two people who specialize in both? Alas, the time you've spent away from the palace has given rise to some deeper feelings, and the moment the knight muttered the word Emperor, only one demon's face could come to mind.

The man who nearly threw you off a cliff two hours ago.

"My heart belongs to another," You say, placing a tender hand on the knight's shoulder. "And I will introduce you to him one day. Perhaps sooner than I will introduce him to others. But…"

"I understand," The knight says, bowing his head respectfully. "I will await that day with pleasure, princess."

You nod your head, offering the demon another curtsy before you turn around to open the door to your private quarters.

But the call of your title makes you turn around.

"Princess?" The knight asks, somewhat meekly.

"Yes, Sire?"

"This...this man you speak of. The one who has claimed your heart, and whom you intend on making Emperor. He wouldn't…"

"Speak your mind, Sire." You watch with curiosity as the demon struggles to find his words, evidently choosing them carefully.

"He wouldn't...hurt you, would he?"

Diavolo? You wonder. Hurt me? The very thought makes you laugh—why, the demon can hardly land a punch on you during training without gasping and checking to see if your alright, the very notion of him ever injuring you brings an amused smile to your face.

"No, Sire. He would never hurt me," You declare confidently, smiling.

And as the two of you part, as you enter your private chambers and settle down, you've never been more certain of anything in your whole life.

Diavolo waits with an utterly unreadable expression on his face.

He's not waiting for you to return—though he knows, based on the location of the moon, that you should be approaching the cliffside sometime soon.

No, he's waiting for his father.

The elder demon has been increasing his visits to Diavolo's mind as of late, repeatedly checking in on his son to ensure that the future prince has not been growing too smitten with you to be of use to the Resistance. Ordinarily, Diavolo wouldn't care for his father's visits much—in fact, he actively dreads them, since he finds himself constantly being reminded of what he will eventually have to do to you—but yesterday, the elder demon had said there would be a surprise for Diavolo the next day.

And as old as Diavolo is, he's always enjoyed a good surprise.

But still, the expression on his face is something that no one would be able to read.

Not even himself.

His face is torn between a wistful blankness and an angry scorn, an odd combination of the two which has scared off most of the local animals. All his thoughts are focused on the situation at hand.

Namely, you.

Well, you certainly seem to be having a difficult time over there.

Diavolo flinches when the buzz of magic washes through his body, but this feeling is different. The magic has a different quality to it, not oppressive and heavy but instead light and...it vaguely reminds him of tea?

Diavolo shakes his head, his mouth hanging ajar when he registers who that voice belongs to—a voice he hasn't heard in all too long.

"No way," The demon murmurs, eyes wide.

Ah, so you can hear me. I was worried that I was performing the spell incorrectly, but it appears I succeeded.

"Barbatos!" Diavolo practically shouts, jumping up. He's abruptly overcome by an overwhelming urge to hug his friend, but, well, the magic is nothing but telepathy, and the green-eyed demon is nowhere to be found.

Lower your voice, my lord. This connection goes two-ways, and you're practically shouting into my head right now.

"You never told me you were learning magic!" Diavolo exclaims, entirely shocked. "And how many times have I told you not to call me your lord? We haven't even taken the palace yet!"

A low chuckle fills Diavolo's ears, but for once, the demon doesn't tense at the sound. It's not abrasive and ominous, like his father's. No, the sound of Barbatos on the other line is nothing but comforting, and it gives Diavolo a strange sense of relief.

Your father taught me. And please, my lord, you don't need to be humble. You and I both know that as long as you complete your task with the princess, Rebellion will succeed no matter what.

"Oh," Diavolo mumbles, voice flat. "So, is that it? Father sent you to make sure that I'm not stepping out of line with the princess? So that I don't betray the Resistance? Well, you can tell him that—"

Actually, my lord, my decision to speak with you was of my own volition.

Diavolo is silent.

I thought...that you might need a friend to talk to.

Diavolo's shoulders slump. "How much do you know?" He asks wearily, eyes drooping as he flops to the ground. Barbatos is absolutely right, of course—the demon has never needed a friend more than in this moment—but Diavolo needs to understand how much of the truth the demon already knows.

In truth? Roughly everything. Your father asked me to check on you using my powers, so I've observed up until the present for this timeline.

"Roughly everything?" Diavolo asks, ears perking up. "What haven't you seen?"

Ah, well. Barbatos is uncomfortably silent for a second. I tend to skip ahead whenever I see you and the princess growing intimate in my visions.

"Wha—" Diavolo chokes on his words, a furious flush painting his cheeks. "The princess and I have never been intimate, Barbatos. We've never had sex!"

I'm sure, my lord.

"Believe me!"

I do, my lord.

Diavolo groans. But he can tell from the playful inflection of his friend's voice that the demon is just teasing, in his own special way. And after being gone for so long, Diavolo realizes that he's missed it.

"So…" The demon trails off, his voice growing serious. "If you've seen all that, you know my issue, then. You know that I…" Diavolo swallows, abruptly realizing the words that he's never even admitted to himself yet.

"I love her," He murmurs with a strange wistfulness.

Yes, Barbatos says. I've seen you. And you should know, my lord; she is equally infatuated with you.

"Bet all that infatuation will disappear when she watches me kill her family in front of her, right?" Diavolo's voice is dry, and the humor to his joke falls on deaf ears. "Tell me, Barbatos, is there any reality where Rebellion succeeds, and I don't have to watch her die?"

Barbatos's silence is a bigger answer than his words.

"I thought so."

Diavolo…

Barbatos trails off, unsure of how to help the demon. Even the honorific is dropped, and abruptly, the conversation switches from servant and master to just two friends talking, one about to get their heart ripped to shreds.

If it helps, she doesn't hate you in all the timelines.

"She doesn't?"

Sometimes…sometimes, if you explain things to her, she understands. But you have to make her understand. She... it's going to be hard to explain to her why she cannot live, why people will only fear her no matter how good a ruler she tries to be. After all, there is a reason why she is the key to Rebellion. And if you can make her see why, then maybe, just maybe, she might…

"She might willingly let me execute her in front of the masses?" The demon leans back on the ground, frowning. He's not sure if that situation is better or worse than you actively hating him.

She won't be willing. But...she won't hate you, either.

"And is this timeline one of those instances?" Diavolo's fingers dig into the grass, hopeful.

That depends on you, Diavolo. But the princess is a good person on the side of evil. And she can never change that—the masses will always know and recognize her as the tyrants' daughter. There can be no peace for the world until every member of the royal family is erased from existence.

“Barbatos,” Diavolo mumbles under his breath.

Yes?

"If the princess is a good person on the wrong side, then what am I?" Diavolo looks up at the sky, oddly enough, like he's asking God for the answer instead of his old friend. "How can I call myself..."

You are a good person, Diavolo. The fact that you are so torn up over this decision is proof of that very fact.

"Does a good person kill another good person?" Diavolo asks. "Is that the world that we're fighting for? How can we have good people on the side of evil if there are no evil people on the side of good?"

Do you want to know the truth, Diavolo?

"Only if it's coming from you, Barbatos."

Your father.

"Huh?" The demon asks, raising his eyebrows in confusion. "What about my father?"

Your father is the man you are looking for: an evil person who was born on the side of good. Either your father will have you kill the princess, or to save your princess, you must kill your father—but you know what you must do. No matter what, should you choose to defend the princess, you are defending a good person. But the moment you choose her, you are siding with evil. And as soon as you do that, your father will not hesitate to wipe you out with the princess. And when that happens, he will be the sole inheritor of the Devildom, and our kingdom will be ruled for eternity by an evil man.

"You're really giving me no choice here, Barbatos," Diavolo mumbles under his breath.

Because you are too honorable a man for this to be an issue of choice, Diavolo. Your father will be the demon king, no matter what. It is only a question of whether you will be there to succeed him—whether you will be able to be the final inheritor of the Devildom. And if you are not, then this world really is doomed.

And there it is.

The overwhelming truth.

The god awful realization that holds Diavolo in place.

He is the only barrier between an eternity of torment for the Devildom and an eternity of peace. He is the difference between the Devildom remaining the Devildom or it becoming true Hell. Under his father, the people may suffer just as poorly as they are under the current tyrants—but under Diavolo, they will be free.

And the price for an eternity of freedom?

You.

One life against an infinite amount of others.

One life against an endless amount of happiness.

One life against an eternity of peace, prosperity, and bliss.

One life to save the realm.

The question plaguing Diavolo's mind was never a question; there was only ever one answer. One choice. One option for the demon who has a heart too good for those around him.

"So, what do you suggest I do?" Diavolo asks drily, staring up at the midnight sky. "How can I look the princess in the eye and hold her close when I know I'll be her end? How can I do anything at all without hurting her in some way?"

Have you ever heard of living in the moment, my lord?

Diavolo's lips curve upward, recalling your words to him from just one month ago as you demanded so breathily that he abandon his reservations and kiss you.

"I have, Barbatos."

Then you know what to do.

And for the first time, Diavolo truly does. Even if he hates it.

MASTERLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | ✔

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: Here's a list of a few other original titles I went through ^^ The Tragedy of Julius Caesar / The Tragedy of Diavolo / The Price of Power / Hellfire Sings / Masses Have Mercy / Beauty and the Beast / We All Fall Down / The Ultimate Sacrifice / And I Wait / - Each title carried different meanings, but my favorite was the Tragedy of Julius Caesar. I'll explain this in chapter 7 :D

Comment & Like

Next Update: 9/02/20

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

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Alma Mater (S2, E3)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:20 - There’s no way Martin is actually going to escape Claremont until AT LEAST the season finale.

0:55 - Anyone else annoyed that Ainsley isn’t in Martin’s fantasy? I mean - it’s completely in character but it still pisses me off.

1:49 - I’m sorry - what? How will pouring Malcolm a drink help this fictional situation?

2:00 - Malcolm ruining Martin’s fantasy dream is honestly such a mood.

2:10 - “That little kill joy.” haha

2:21 - Malcolm has a stationary bike. Of course he does. But why does he listen to the personal trainer lady (who I assume was a recording programmed on the bike)? Malcolm doesn’t seem like he needs praise or motivation to exercise. He probably does it the way I do - mindlessly as a habit. A habit built from the knowledge that if I skip a morning workout I will feel more unsettled and anxious than usual before lunch....and don’t even get me started on how quickly my depressive thoughts escalate.

2:24 - ....I’m still convinced/hoping that this is a false memory Martin has planted in Malcolm. I’m all for Malcolm whump and Malcolm trauma...but the thought of Gil, the team, and Jessica finding out that Malcolm committed a crime terrifies me. I don’t want him to go to jail. I don’t want Gil and the team to turn their back on him. I don’t want Jessica to blame herself (more than usual).

2:39 - I love that the “Malcolm pretty much only feeds himself liquorice and lollipops” is still canon this season.

2:42 - OMG. That is not a helpful affirmation. Like maybe for anyone? If you’re traumatized/depressed/anxious “consider the past and you shall know the future” is not comforting or inspiring. It’s the opposite.

2:48 - I’m loving how confidently Malcolm has been shutting down Martin’s manipulation. #soproud

2:52 - Anyone else super upset that Martin is the person with whom Malcolm discusses his mental health the most honestly?

3:12 - Check out the way Mr. David looks at Martin here. Does Mr. David already know about Endicott? Or is he just like, “Bitch, spit it out so I don’t have to keep guessing your current family drama.”?

3:17 - “Let’s have another session today.” .....Does Martin really think he’s Malcolm’s new therapist? DOES MALCOLM THINK THAT? IS THAT WHY HE ISN’T SEEING GABRIELLE? HAS MARTIN MANIPULATED HIM INTO THINKING THAT HE DOESN’T NEED GABRIELLE?!?

3:22 - hahahaha OMG. Mr.David is so done with Martin’s theatrics.

3:32 - Ok so two things:

Martin’s insight on Malcolm’s mental health/coping mechanisms is disturbingly on point. Almost like he’s an attentive, caring, father (which he isn’t).

How long was Gil outside Malcolm’s door before he knocked? Do you think he overheard Malcolm’s side of the conversation? I kind of hope he did. But only if it means I get to see Gil asking Malcolm about it.

3:50 - “Put me on speaker.” I’m torn. Part of me is so proud of Malcolm for denying Martin’s need for attention....but part of me is living for a Martin/Gil showdown where they fight over Malcolm in front of Malcolm.

3:54 - Ok. So Gil was a jerk last episode but I forgive him. Gil just showed up at Malcolm’s apartment to tell him about a case instead of calling Malcolm. Gil knew Malcolm would be upset. Gil knew that Malcolm needed to hear this in person. <3 My heart is full. <3

4:12 - Concerned!Gil is everything. Look at how much he cares about Malcolm and what this case will inevitably bring up for Malcolm. You can almost see how badly Gil doesn’t want Malcolm on this case.

4:13 - “What if I said I need you?” Damn. Gil knows. He knows that Malcolm desperately doesn’t want to ever disappoint Gil. Gil is Malcolm’s hero and, when Malcolm is thinking straight, he’d do anything for Gil.

4:17 - <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 Gil looks so sad when he notices Malcolm’s hand shaking. Can a heart simultaneously break and heal?

4:23 - Oh yeah. Gil definitely wanted Brumback dead for what he did to Malcolm. He doesn’t even try giving Malcolm the “you’re being insensitive” look.

4:42 - Wow. That school is nicer than my university.

4:47 - Do you think Gil’s been to the school before? To visit and/or pick up Malcolm? ....I really want to believe he did. Gil looks like he’s leading Malcolm through campus. Gil looks like he’s familiar with the campus. Surely that means he visited Malcolm there. Right?

5:17 - So...was the “office under water” thing officially a prank? It’s brutal. Forget the murder, Brumback would’ve expelled kids for that prank.

5:27 - I love how Dani looks at Gil for clarification here. She’s like, “Malcolm is upset, ranting, and making no sense. I’m not going to set him off further by asking more questions. But I need to know what the hell he’s going on about.”

5:40 - Soooo is JT texting Dani? Or is Tally? I really hope it’s Tally. I hope Dani’s texts are all reading something along the lines of “He won’t stop pacing and panicking. If he doesn’t calm down I’m going to slap him.”

5:43 - I love the look of disbelief that Gil shoots Dani when her phone goes off. haha

5:52 - hahaha Gil so heard Edrisa the first time. He was just giving her a chance to conform to professional social standards.

6:03 - hahahaha OMG. Edrisa is a treasure.

6:56 - awww Malcolm, baby. :( This boy has so much trauma. I love it.

7:07 - I’m assuming Malcolm’s ‘high school’ was grades 10-12 (not 8-12 which is common in the area of Canada where I grew up) so that means Tom Payne is currently being passed off as a 15-16 year old. It kinda works. But ngl - I spent most of this scene thinking “could they not hire a kid because of COVID?”

7:12 - I’m not actually mad that Tom Payne was allowed to play high school Malcolm though. His performance in this scene is really moving. “Be someone new.” :( <3

7:45 - Sooooo Malcolm changed his name before he was legally an adult. If it’s his legal last name (we see “Bright” on pill bottles in S1 so it’s his legal name now at least) Jessica had to have signed the paperwork. Damn. I wish I was there to see that process regardless of when it became his legal last name.

7:49 - Baby Malcolm looks so comforted by Martin’s acceptance of his new name and new school. It breaks my heart.

8:00 - Wait. There was a teacher who liked Malcolm at this school? The son a serial killer? AND the teacher recognizes Malcolm 15 years later?!? Nah. I don’t buy it. I love Malcolm but I feel like the teachers would’ve avoided developing any sort of relationship with Malcolm even if they didn’t have a problem with him.

8:05 - Hold up. This school is so fancy. Are you telling me they don’t have outdoor security cameras? Surely those would’ve told you who the suspects for the desk thing were at least.

8:15 - awwww poor Malcolm looks shattered here. :(

8:31 - “Easy. Let’s keep an open mind.” That is pure Dad!Gil energy and I’m here for it.

8:39 - Of course. Of course Jessica is involved in the rich school.

8:51 - I’m on Gil and Malcolm’s side here. Jessica is putting her reputation over Malcolm’s mental health. Shame on her. No no. I will not stand for this - and neither will Gil. Damn. Look at how pissed he is on Malcolm’s behalf. <3 So sweet.

9:06 - “Pop-pop’s aquatic center”!?!? Soooo is Pop-pop Jessica’s grandfather or Malcolm’s? Either way give me more information about the extended family. Are they dead? Did they disown them after the Surgeon business? I WANT ANSWERS FEDAK.

9:15 - I swear. Malcolm is the best son/brother ever. The sacrifices he makes for his Mom/sister are unreal. Also - how much do you want to bet that Malcolm was thinking about the Endicott murder coming out when Jessica said, “how soon until they connect that back to me?”. Malcolm looks so sad here.

9:23 - Nah. I don’t like Delaney. Even on the first watch I was put off by him. Something about him just creeps me out. He’s showing a weird amount of affection for Malcolm 15 years after Malcolm finished school. IDK maybe I was just upset that someone was trying to mimic Gil’s relationship with Malcolm?

9:27 - oooooooohhhhh Mom and Dad are fighting. hahaha Malcolm looks so uncomfortable. Gil looks livid. Is Gil pissed because Jessica dumped him or because she totally just neglected Malcolm’s well-being for her own? Probably both. Either way, it’s endlessly entertaining.

9:53 - I’m on Gil’s side here. She dumped him (like a f**ing moron) because she “doesn’t want to hurt him” and because she’s “broken” and “cursed”. Yet - she manipulates her way into cases. Making her business Gil’s. Gil should be pissed - she broke his heart. Again. Like he’s literally been choosing to hang out with Malcolm, Jessica’s (let’s face it) broken son, for more than 20 years. Jessica’s crazy if she thinks that she’s going to get Gil killed or hurt just because she’s a Whitly. Malcolm’s technically a Whitly - Gil hasn’t died yet.

10:15 - “Not usually.” Dang. That was icy.

10:50 - Yo this is one messed up bible study. Take it from someone who has attended many young adult/teenage bible studies. This is crazy. Usually it’s: read the bible for 5-10 minutes as a group, discuss how you interpreted it for 15-20 mins, pray as a group for 5 mins, then like an hour of tea/coffee, cookies, board games, and general chatting about normal stuff like romance, school, and personal drama.

11:44 - “Poor Tally.” hahaha I’m willing to bet that Tally is texting Dani - not JT. I just can’t imagine a panicking, first-time father, texting his little sister with accurate medical details about his wife’s pre-labour experience. He’s probably way too panicked to remember the medical jargon that is “foley ballon”.

12:00 - I’ve watched this scene about 30 times. I’m in love with it. Tom Payne’s performance is haunting and I’m a sucker for emotional whump. I love how Dani is concerned about Malcolm but respectful enough to pry until he shuts down. I love Malcolm’s little speech about the hand tremor (even though it doesn’t make sense because baby Malcolm’s hand was shaking when Shannon interrogated him - but that’s a whole different can of worms I’m not going to rant about).

12:39 - Does anyone else think it’s weird that there’s a bolt on the closet door? Why isn’t there a lock in the door handle like every other interior school door? I mean, I guess it’s because they can be unlocked from the inside and Nicky would’ve needed a key....but still. The things I forgive for the sake of plot.

13:25 - Damn. Brumback was a real jerk. “I know what you really are.” Do you know how painful that would be for Malcolm to hear? Regardless of what he almost did to Nicky? Everywhere Malcolm goes people accuse him of being just like his father. Is it surprising that in a moment of weakness, with teenage hormones, Malcolm snapped and said, “Eff it. They think I’m a murderer anyways.”

13:26 - OMG. How bad were the kids at this school?!?! Brumback expelled so many kids. Holy hell. Also - Brumback is wearing a wedding ring. Did he get divorced before he died? Did his wife pass away before him? Why was his family not part of this investigation at all?

13:31 - Brumback writing “Malcolm Whitly” instead of Malcolm Bright is....ouch. I just. My heart breaks for Malcolm.

13:37 - OMG. Traumatized people going through PTSD flashbacks should not be unattended next to a pool of water. Honestly - I thought our boy was going to drown. Which the whumper in me would’ve loved but also I don’t think it was right for the plot on this one.

14:38 - Martin is such a liar. He definitely thinks he’s God’s gift to the Earth.

15:02 - Martin knows a lot about the security zones. Something tells me this isn’t the first time he’s contemplated escaping.

15:04 - Oh shit. Daryl has an imaginary cell mate. I know that’s a serious mental illness and I shouldn’t laugh but OMG. The moment Martin realizes that Daryl is delusional is priceless. hahahaha

15:25 - How much to do want to bet Mr. David has a red key card? Martin’s grin confirms it.

15:40 - Wow. The classrooms in this high school are really big. I would’ve thought this fancy private school would have smaller class sizes.

15:49 - YES. OMG. Malcolm walking into that classroom soaking wet is golden. *chef’s kiss* Look at Gil’s face - it’s a mixture of concern and disbelief. He’s soooo worried about Malcolm right now. <3

16:07 - It’s a good thing Malcolm’s rich because that phone is never going to be useful again.

16:20 - ahhahahaha OMG. WTF. Gil’s little twinkle-finger wave is hilarious.

16:38 - This whole scene Gil is just staring at Malcolm with so much concern. It warms my cold, dead heart. <3

16:46 - Do you think Malcolm looked for his name in the book? Is it the same book? Do you think Brumback expelled enough kids that this is a new black book?

17:08 - Ok. So I immediately don’t like Louisa. That level of confidence and self-absorption is very unattractive.

17:25 - Louisa volunteers in the library. That’s how she got access to the poison.

17:35 - “Dude. You’re dripping.” “Yeah. Water does that.” Can Malcolm be this sassy every episode?!? I’m living for it.

17:57 - “Boys right? Oof” haha I love Malcolm talking to teenagers. I want it in every episode. ALSO - the jock’s story about the two girls - I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how that an expulsion level offence unless the kid is leaving something out of the story.

18:31 - Of course they talked about this before they came there. DELANEY WARNED THEM. But mostly to keep his little cheating ring hush hush.

18:55 - And just like that we’ve been blessed with Malcolm in casual clothes. Wish I could’ve seen Gil question Malcolm’s swim though.

19:26 - OMG. Edrisa is such a cute little nerd. <3 Protect her at all costs.

20:00 - Gil and Jessica arguing is amazing. I’m loving it and hating it. Because I want them to live happily ever after in a fairytale world but I do enjoy the drama.

20:06 - hahaha look at how Jessica just pushes Gil to the side and plows on to Malcolm. This woman is fierce.

20:11 - Yes. Yes Malcolm. Tell Mom she has unrealistic and insensitive expectations of you.

20:18 - What kind of school is this?!? The board of trustee members are buddy buddy with the students?!?

20:22 - “They’re all from impeccable families.” “So was I” Mic drop. Watch Malcolm drop the truth bombs. This is maybe the best line in this episode.

20:30 - “And just like you - none of them is capable of murder.” .....well this sentence is going to come back and bite Jessica in the butt later this season.

20:44 - The fact that these kids think Edrisa is a freshman is actually hilarious to me.

20:50 - OMG. “Welcome to boarding school. Bitch.” I was ready for Louisa to die right here. She just punched Edrisa and then called her a bitch. No no no. Edrisa is a quirky treasure and we must protect her.

21:00 - Damn. I wish we got to see the team’s reaction when they found out one of their teenage suspects assaulted their favourite M.E.

21:10 - Why is it soooo attractive when Malcolm wears casual shirts under a suit jacket?

21:53 - “My vote is for Louisa. The girl’s got a heavy fist.” hahaha I love Edrisa. SO SO much.

22:05 - Soooo is Jessica some sort of consultant now? They used her to interview cult extractors and now rich, teenage murder suspect. Is she the “rich person investigator” now?

22:11 - Does Louisa know that Malcolm is Jessica’s son?

23:04 - Louisa is a bad liar.

24:15 - Delaney should be ashamed. He told Nicky who Malcolm’s dad was. He is the reason that Malcolm got locked in a closet for 3 days. He is the reason Malcolm is claustrophobic. This man should have his teaching license seized and be charged with child abuse. What he did was absolutely despicable.

24:35 - “My mom’s sending a car.” It’s nice that Malcolm doesn’t always refer to Jessica as “mother”

25:00 - This is heartbreaking. I hope Nicky got expelled. If he didn’t - Malcolm experience a bigger injustice than we were lead to believe. Look at Nicky walking away from Malcolm. That kid has no remorse. I don’t blame Malcolm for seeking revenge. Malcolm keeps getting burned by people. Something had to give eventually.

25:30 - The biggest crime this episode committed is that we only saw Malcolm getting comfort from DELANEY. Honestly. Where was my papa Gil moment?!? Or a Dani+Malcolm moment?!?

25:51 - I doubt Delaney tried to stand up for Malcolm. He probably encouraged the expulsion.

26:05 - “Please.” Yikes. This has been torturing Malcolm for years. Who sold him out? Who ruined his last chance at a happy childhood? Who allowed him to be traumatized further? Who gave him the hand tremor (assuming we’re ignoring the S1 canon).

26:38 - What. A. Getaway. This school is full of crazy rich kids.

26:55 - “This time”?!? Doesn’t Martin always root for the killer?

27:05 - I love everything about this interaction between Martin and Malcolm. I love how upset Malcolm is. I love how Malcolm calls out Martin for being a bad dad. I love that Martin just sits there and takes it. Martin even looks a little sad. It makes me wonder - did Martin know about Delaney’s cheating ring? Did Martin manipulate Delaney into thinking Malcolm was a threat and convince him to get Malcolm expelled? I can see Martin doing it. If for no other reason than to tarnish the “Milton legacy” at Remington.

28:04 - UGH. I want to see how Malcolm got out of that closet SO BAD. Who found him? How close to death was he? PLEASE TELL ME IT WAS GIL. Why didn’t Jessica investigate when Malcolm didn’t show up at the Hamptons as planned?

28:13 - “How you wish that were true.” Ouch. Martin is a real asshole. He knows just how to destabilize Malcolm’s confidence.

28:56 - Even now, Martin is trying to manipulate Malcolm. Their relationship is so dysfunctional, beautiful, heartbreaking, and complex. I could watch them interact forever.

29:31 - Look at that little head shake from Mr. David. Martin’s cell is not soundproof. Mr. David heard everything. Mr. David always hears everything. Mr. David knows about Endicott. Istg.

30:12 - Delaney is a scumbag. He might not be a serial killer but he’s another male, adult asshole who gained Malcolm’s trust and then stabbed him in the back.

30:37 - OK. So I know, I’ve been hypothesizing that Mr. David is an ally to Martin’s crazy schemes, or that he worked for Endicott, or that Martin is going to try to kill Mr. David. BUT YO. IF MR. DAVID DIES I WILL THROW HANDS. HE’S SUCH A GREAT CHARACTER.

31:40 - This is a weirdly fancy room for video games. Also I miss JT. He should be here. I wish he was here. He would’ve been so good in this episode. Can you imagine his facial expressions and comments when he finds out little tidbits about Malcolm’s teenage past?! It would’ve been comedic GOLD. Couldn’t Tally give birth during a less interesting episode?!?!

32:15 - I’m convinced that Malcolm isn’t actually upset that Delaney’s crime is running the cheating ring. I think Malcolm’s upset because he just realized the only positive male role model (aside from Gil) that he had as a teenager was a manipulative liar who betrayed him. Malcolm just realized that this dude never cared about him and he’s crushed.

32:27 - Wait. Does Delaney make the kids pay him for the answers? Because that actually makes sense.

33:08 - This whole scene where Molly runs out of the back room and Dani says, “who are you running from?” is really cringey to me.

33:19 - Oh great. Now the guy who betrayed Malcolm is touching the back of Malcolm’s neck. JUST LIKE GIL DOES. Well....something tells me that’s going to taint how comforting Malcolm find’s that gesture coming from Gil for a while. Malcolm just isn’t allowed to be happy. Even for a moment. It’s a shame. I also love it.

33:40 - Awww...poor Malcolm is claustrophobic and he gets locked in the vault with a dying man. Look how desperate he is to get out of there - to save Delaney and to save himself more mental distress.

33:53 - Look at Malcolm panicking here. He tries to hide his panic as concern for Delaney but he’s clearly freaking out about being trapped in a smallish space.

34:25 - Yep. Malcolm didn’t think he could trust Daryl because Daryl is delusional. SO Martin threatens to murder Daryl and then metaphorically stabs the dude in the back. This is perfectly in character.

35:25 - Damn. Louisa is seriously mentally ill. She has zero empathy.

35:57 - Malcolm projecting his mental issues on the killer du jour is always simultaneously cringey and amazing to me.

36:26 - I’m not going to lie. Daryl screaming “He’s a Judas” as he was dragged away was hilarious.

37:04 - Holy shit. This took a turn. I’ll be honest - I don’t blame Malcolm for almost killing Nicky. But it does scare me.

38:35 - That story must have been haunting Malcolm for 15 years. I bet you he’s never told anyone not even Gabrielle. He’s had nightmares about it. Because he knows he’s capable of murder. Just like Martin. That terrifies Malcolm more than anything in the world.

39:12 - sooooo Delaney just heard that whole confession. Delaney lives. Something tells me this is going to be a problem for Malcolm when Endicott’s murder is investigated later in the season.

39:35 - “Are you insane?” “Maybe.” That’s it. That’s the show.

40:00 - Two questions: 1) Where is Dani? 2) Why does Gil not know where Malcolm is right now?

40:22 - Look Fedak screwed us over. We didn’t get to see Gil find Malcolm half-dead on the floor of that library vault. BUT this scene almost makes up for it.

40:24 - Malcolm wrapped in a blanket is so so cute. I just want to hug him. I want Gil to hug him. Ugh. <3

40:28 - I love that you can tell that Malcolm and Gil have had this sort of discussion about Malcolm’s sense of self-preservation numerous times in the past. Gil looks sooooo pissed. And concerned.

40:35 - Malcolm’s imitation of Gil makes me so so so so happy. I just. Ugh. It’s adorable. Look at how exasperated it makes Gil. Look at Dani’s reaction to it. This might be the greatest “found family”. scenes this show has given us to date.

40:55 - “All in a day’s work.” Oh yeah. Gil is super concerned about Malcolm’s mental state. Gil is Worried. I want to see more of it.

40:57 - I love that Dani just can’t wait anymore. She’s so precious. Look at how excited she is about JT’s baby. <3 I’m in love. She’s so soft here - it’s beautiful and rare for this show to let the audience see this side of Dani.

41:00 - GIL’S REACTION. <3 OMG. I LOVE HIM. HE LOOKS SO HAPPY. I HOPE JT AND TALLY DUB HIM THE BABY’S UNOFFICIAL GRANDFATHER.

41:02 - MALCOLM’S FACE. <3 <3 <3 IS THIS THE FIRST TIME HE’S EVER SEEN A BABY? HE’S SO ENAMORED WITH THIS CHILD ALREADY. LOOK AT HOW MUCH MALCOLM ALREADY LOVES JT’S KID. <3 <3 IT’S SO SOFT. I LOVE IT SO SO SO SO MUCH.

41:22 - I can’t decide about this scene. On one hand - I think it’s really mature of Malcolm to apologize to Martin. It’s a courtesy that Martin doesn’t deserve. ON THE OTHER HAND - I wonder if Malcolm is only apologizing to throw Martin off balance. I wonder if this is Malcolm’s attempt to manipulate Martin for once. Either way - I love it.

42:25 - Martin always gets the last word. He always worms his way into Malcolm’s brain and screws with Malcolm’s sense of self. I hate it. But I also find it so captivating.

43:05 - Sooooo is Martin committing the murder next episode? Or is he just manipulating someone else to commit a murder? Either way - I’m excited.

If you read this far - I’m flattered. I also think you’re a little crazy. But thanks for hanging out.

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sshbpodcast · 3 years

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Something for Everyone (unless you liked Jadzia) in S7 DS9!

by Ames

How exactly does one pick top and bottom episodes from a clump that’s mostly serial? A Star to Steer Her By found a way! It’s a strange final season of Deep Space Nine that’s split almost evenly between the ongoing storyline of the show and a bunch of episodes to pad for time while the writers created that ongoing storyline for the show.

Read on below for our bests and worsts of season seven, which you can also listen to at our absurdly long series-wrap podcast episode here (jump to timestamp 1:38:05 for the season discussion), where you can hear the bonus tops and bottoms of fan-favorite guest star Liz and also the full series ratings!

Bottom Three Episodes

This season really suffers from some characters regressing hard as if they didn’t make any development over the course of the show. Some regressed so hard, they basically restarted the character (oof, too soon…).

“Afterimage”: Chris Quick! We’ve only got a couple episodes to establish Ezri as a character because we were huge dicks to the last Dax and killed her off. Let’s rush through showcasing this new Dax in a barely formed plot mostly spent treating her like a sex object. Check, check, and check!

“Take Me Out to the Holosuite”: Ames, Caitlin Season 7 is all about wrapping up the Dominion War arc, but let’s pause that for two weeks to have a goofy baseball game that is entirely lifted from every other TV show, to wash all the sci-fi off the show, and to just crack jokes that don’t land. That’s strike three; you’re outta here!

“The Emperor’s New Cloak”: Caitlin, Jake Mirror universe episodes tend to always feel like fanfic as it is, but our final trip through the looking glass basically said “Hold My Beer.” The whole thing felt like a checklist of in-jokes, some tropey character nonsense, and even more objectifying women to round it off!

“Extreme Measures”: Ames, Caitlin Julian goes full hypocrite in this not-even-a-little-bit-surreal mindtrip when he kidnaps and tortures Sloan, gets him absolutely killed, and takes a whole episode for a boring brain adventure. This is not the Julian we thought we knew, and it’s a shame.

“Chrysalis”: Chris, Jake And that’s not even the worst thing Julian has done lately! He has fully reverted to his sleazy season-one self, grooming women so he can date them, performing surgeries on them to “fix them,” and still somehow making everything about him. Gross, Julian. Gross.

“Field of Fire”: Ames, Chris, Jake One thing we can say about our new Trill character is at least she’s consistent… because every single time we do a Trill episode, it’s entirely contradictory of all the preceding Trill episodes to the point of confoundment! Joran is the worst he’s been and what even is this new overpowered weapon?

—

Top Three Episodes

On the flip side, this season also benefits from how varied its episodes are that it really does somehow have something for everyone, especially if you love you some schlock!

“Take Me Out to the Holosuite”: Chris Sigh. Chris likes doofy, fillery episodes and I’m not even going to try to parse why this time. The uniforms looked good, I guess? That must be it. If you like doofy, fillery episodes and aren’t bored to tears by baseball, then this episode… has some good uniforms for you.

“Once More Unto the Breach”: Jake We love us a good Klingon episode and this one’s got a lot to sink your teeth into. It was an excellent send off for the long-established character of Kor, it reflected on some of the less honorable elements of Klingon culture, and Worf got to put his knife skills on display!

“Badda-Bing Badda-Bang”: Caitlin Heist episodes of the world, take note! This is how you pace and tell a concise, interesting, coherent, and clever heist story. Placement in the middle of the war arc aside, this episode gave us some great acting, costumes, music, film techniques, the works! Badda bing!

“The Siege of AR-558”: Chris, Jake We’ve also got a straight-up war episode featuring some tense ground patrol action, horrifying new weapons, and Quark with a gun! Also we see actual consequences for characters’ actions! What Star Trek so far has ever given us that before?

“Treachery, Faith, and the Great River”: Ames, Jake Proving that two Jeffrey Combses are better than one, this episode doubles your Weyouns and gives us some excellent Vorta time that really kicks you in the feels. It would take a bunch more Weyouns to reach the level of this excellent story. Those are our demands, Star Trek; get on it.

“The Changing Face of Evil”: Ames, Caitlin One of the absolute highlights of the big honkin’ ten-part finale is the Dukat-Winn relationship you never realized you needed. The hottest elements of which are all on display in this episode in particular, which are all pretty drool-worthy, but the most props go to Louise Fletcher for totally selling every moment.

“It’s Only a Paper Moon”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris This episode achieves the impossible: It gives us some really genuinely good Vic Fontaine. All the credit, of course, does go to Aron Eisenberg for his really touching and complete characterization of post-traumatic stress disorder. Thank you, ensign Nog, for being such a treasure.

—

So that’s all the season-by-season bloodwine we can spill on Deep Space Nine. We’re sad to leave the station and take our final look at the wormhole, but there’s also the full series top and bottom fives to celebrate and lament, respectively. Watch this page for more, listen to weekly episodes at our home on the web on Soundcloud, follow us on Facebook and Twitter, and tell the prophets to stop it with all the baseball already!

#star trek #star trek deep space 9 #ds9 #podcast #star trek podcast #top three #bottom three #afterimage #take me out to the holosuite #the emperor's new cloak #extreme measures #chrysalis #field of fire #once more unto the breach #badda-bing badda-bang #the siege of ar-558 #treachery faith and the great river #the changing face of evil #it's only a paper moon

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chidoroki · 4 years

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TPN soundtrack

I’ve been listening to the OST very frequently again due to season 2 now being delayed until 2021 and.. hm, recent manga events. Some songs are very memorable to the point where I can see the anime scene in my head, while others had me think a bit more until a certain scene clicked. Even after re-watching the entire first season multiple times over the past year, there were still a handful of tracks from the OST that I didn't recognize at all. So, I spent an entire night watching all 12 of those episodes (yet again, because what else am i to do during this quarantine) to find where these songs might be hiding. I took note of all of the tracks actually, even those that went unused after some digging around.. and this is the result.

When & where do the wonderful songs of The Promised Neverland play?

Vol.1

Introduction: (im actually surprised how often this one is played)

EP1 (first minute) - When our favorite trio of young kids inspect the gate.

EP1 (10:48-13:10) - After the first game of tag, when the children are near the fence talking about those that left the house and their own personal wishes.

EP3 (9:19-10:21) - While Emma finds the tracker's location on Carol.

EP6 (3:59-6:09) - When the trio learns about the clues WM left behind via morse code while Don & Gilda enter Isabella's secret room.

EP7 (3:03-4:12) - When Krone tells the kids about the chip attached to the adult's heart.

EP9 (12:52-14:50) - When Ray reveals he never experienced infantile amnesia.

As a Soft Morning Sunrise:

EP1 (2:56-4:25) - While the kids are waking up and getting ready for breakfast.

Tag:

EP1 (7:46-8:28) - While Norman is chasing after Emma. The song itself actually starts around its 40sec mark.

EP4 (5:24-6:12) - When playing tag in teams. Skips the very beginning of the song again.

Studying for Exams:

EP1 (5:13-6:21) - While taking the morning test.

Cold-hearted Isabella:

EP2 (11:25-12:20) - While Isabella questions Emma in the hallway about her odd behavior and they talk about Conny.

EP4 (15:06-16:17) - When the note about the rope is slipped under Isabella's door and Gilda goes to talk with Krone.

Training for Escape:

EP3 (14:14-15:18) - When the trio first test the children's abilities by playing tag and gives them advice.

Tight Tension:

EP1 (17:50-19:00) - When the demons are talking about the farms and we learn Isabella is an enemy.

Isabella's Lullaby: (this song is perfection!)

EP1 (14:13-14:32) - The melody is hummed by Isabella while taking Conny to the gate.

EP1 (19:53-21:20) - After Emma & Norman return to the house and get the idea to escape. The full song is played this time.

EP10 (10:32-12:50) - During Norman's shipment scene after he stops Emma from hurting herself and says goodbye to her.

EP10 (20:12-20:37) - The melody is sung briefly by Ray.

EP11 (9:54-10:19) - Isabella hums the melody again while putting the babies to sleep.

EP12 (17:31-18:20 & 18:48-19:44) - The melody is hummed by Isabella and then Ray during the flashback. After the flashback, the melody is heard again and then transitions into "TPN Main Theme 2."

Demon's Manifestation:

EP1 (17:40-17:49) - When the demons first appear. It actually transitions right into "Tight Tension" rather smoothly.

Emma's Sorrow:

EP4 (11:08-14:12) - When Don & Gilda are told the "truth" in the library and join the escape plan. Continues when Ray questions Norman after in the hallway and ends while Emma & Gilda chat in their room.

Dancing Krone:

EP3 (16:45-18:08) - While Krone joins the kids in a game of tag.

63194 (Emma’s theme): (personal favorite! i pray it plays whenever we get to the Goldy Pond arc)

EP2 (17:50-20:32) - During the trio's conversation near the wall, when Norman gets Ray to join the escape plan despite Emma being so adamant about not leaving any child behind.

EP8 (19:06-20:55) - After Isabella cleanly breaks Emma's leg.

Vol.2

TPN (Main Theme 1):

EP9 (16:22-18:37) - When Norman finds the pen and finally climbs the wall.

EP11 (16:57-20:10) - From the end of Norman's letter to Emma, while she starts the fire and ends as the kids prepare to scale the wall.

GF House:

EP2 (8:19-9:22) - When Isabella returns with Naila sleeping in her arms and Norman suspects the use of tracking devices.

EP4 (8:31-9:22) - While the trio is walking up the stairs to the library before talking with Don & Gilda.

81194 (Ray's theme):

EP5 (2:41-5:29) - When Ray confirms himself as Isabella's spy.

Tension:

EP1 (16:31-16:59) - After Emma drops Little Bunny at the gate.

EP6 (7:21-9:05) - Upon Don & Gilda finding Little Bunny in the secret room along with Isabella's communicator while the trio are questioning the morse code for "promise" upstairs in the library.

EP7 (12:28-13:55) - When Krone catches Emma & Norman keeping secrets after their conversation.

EP10 (2:01-2:50) - When Norman draws out the plantation's map.

Corpse Found: ???

Unused. Yes, this track is actually different from the one played in the anime when Norman sees Conny's dead body.

Krone's Scheme:

EP3 (6:47-7:25) - While Krone is in her room talking to herself about getting Isabella fired.

EP4 (3:40-4:13) - In her room again, after being scolded by Isabella.

Existence of an Insider:

EP5 (8:40-11:06) - During the later half of Ray and Norman's conversation about Ray actually being a double agent. Continues as Ray leaves into the hallway and shows off his wonderful slasher smile while Norman is thinking on the bed.

Emma's Agony:

EP2 (2:45-4:42) - When Norman & Emma are talking about what they saw and heard the previous night at the gate.

EP5 (14:45-16:44) - When Emma calls Ray's bluff about him actually accepting the idea of having everyone escape, then threatening him not to sacrifice anyone for their sake ever again.

EP6 (11:14-12:40) - When Don confronts the trio in the dinning hall about their lies and demands the whole truth.

EP11 (3:26-5:24) - When Ray reveals his plan about setting the house on fire and suggests escaping at night.

Isabella's Lullaby (No Vocal Version): ???

Unused. It's still pretty though.

Krone on the GF String:

EP8 (6:22-9:48) - During Krone's flashbacks and her final moments.

TPN (Pf solo Version):

EP4 (18:27-21:16) - While Ray and Norman discuss a traitor's possible motives, continues during Emma's talk with Norman about saving the traitor, ends when Norman calls out Ray being said traitor after discovering the rope under the bed was taken.

EP6 (17:00-18:55) - When Emma tells Norman about a potential plan to catch Isabella off-guard. Norman then finds the lighter fuel Ray has been hiding.

EP10 (5:09-7:50) - During Norman's flashback of when he was sick and used the cup phones to talk with Emma & Ray.

EP10 (16:52-19:16) - In the infirmary when Emma refuses Isabella's offer to become a mom.

Vol.3

TPN (Main Theme 2): (very similar to the previous main theme, but apparently this one has different cords at the end. for the life of me i honestly can't tell the difference myself)

EP12 (19:45-21:09) - While the kids are running free and Isabella returns to Phil and the other young children. Ends as the escapees witness their first sunrise outside.

Prison Break: (second favorite!)

EP12 (5:55-8:41) - Starts when Isabella alerts headquarters about the escape, continues when the kids show off the training they've accomplished in order to cross the cliff, which Don then demonstrates.

Strategy for Escape: ???

Unused. Composer Takahiro Obata imagined the trio planning their escape. (it's a shame because i actually really like this one.)

Emma's Determination:

EP6 (13:30-15:50) - After Don punches Norman & Ray. Everyone then apologizes to each other.

EP9 (9:50-11:15) - When Emma gives Ray the idea to break his arm and get sick so neither of them get shipped.

Grandma and Demons:

EP3 (10:46? 11:05-11:22) - During Isabella's nightly check in with Grandma Sarah while the demons talk about the harvest. The first couple seconds sound different in the anime than the actual track.

EP11 (7:30-9:02) - Upon Ray pouring lighter fuel on himself.

Isabella's Lullaby (Mandolin Version):

EP12 (14:13-14:40 & 15:27-17:30) - During Isabella's flashback of Leslie.

Analysis for Escape: ???

Unused. Composer thought of the trio analyzing their situation.

22194 (Norman's theme): (if this song doesn't make you tear up, you're lying)

EP7 (5:28-7:33) - The five discussing Krone's offer about receiving more information. (i had no memory of hearing it this early, but surprise)

EP9 (5:17-6:50) - When Norman fetches a glass of water. And then drops it. Because oh god, this boy just realized that he's dying tomorrow.

EP12 (1:28-4:00) - When Phil is told the truth about the house.

Their Own Thoughts: ???

Unused. Composer thought about Conny who didn't want to leave.

Reasoning for Escape:

EP3 (4:08-5:45) - In Isabella's office when she informs Krone that some of the kids found out the secret.

Ray's Retaliation: (third favorite! i also enjoy it more than his actual theme, oops)

EP8 (13:41-15:27) - Upon Ray getting locked inside Krone's old room by Isabella, though he eventually escapes. Ends before mother dearest catches up with Emma & Norman at the wall.

EP11 (11:30-13:25) - When Isabella enters the burning dinning hall, while the children escape the house. Ends when poor mother finds Emma's ear and realizes she's been fooled by a bunch of children.

TPN (Epf solo Version): ???

Unused. Played in the drama CD though, apparently?

Bonus. If you thought the lullaby was played more, then you're not entirely wrong. Many of the tracks include the same melody:

Isabella's Lullaby [all of it, of course]

Emma's Sorrow [once from 0:24, (maybe again in the middle i think?) and then 2:02]

63194 (Emma's theme) [1:35 - 2:12]

TPN (Main theme 1 & 2) [once from 1:08, then again from 2:18, and finally 3:30]

Emma's Agony [the entire song is like a slowed down version]

Isabella's Lullaby (no vocal version) [all of it]

TPN (Pf solo version) [all of it]

Prison Break [once from 0:51 then again after 1:45]

Emma's Determination [slightly at 0:26, more noticeable at 1:28]

Isabella's Lullaby (Mandolin version) [all of it]

Ray's Retaliation [1:26 - 2:18]

TPN (Epf solo version) [all of it]

So, there we go. Perhaps others might find this as interesting as I did. If not, then no big deal. It allowed me to watch season one again, so I can't complain. The wait for next season might have grown longer, but that shall not stop me from talking about the anime. Here's hoping we can hear those unused tracks in future seasons as well.

#the promised neverland #tpn anime #chidoroki used chatter

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jettingtothemoon · 4 years

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Rescue You; chapter 4

➳ pairing: hector x witch|reader ➳ genre: fantasy, angst ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut, mentions of rape, slavery, spoilers for seasons 1 thorough 3. ➳ word count: 2213 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n, a witch from Dracula’s court, tries to save the forgemaster from his fate.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10

Forgemasters and Magicians

Another day passed and yet again, nothing had changed. The mercenaries were training all day, preparing for the battle to come; the vampires were asleep all day; and Hector was working at his forge.

It was the late evening when you went to see him but still a few hours until dusk. You entered quietly but, instead of sitting in your usual spot, you waited by the door until Hector noticed your presence.

Cezar was sleeping, snoring softly in front of the fireplace which was for once alight without you being the one to light it. Hector continued to hammer away for a while longer before finally putting his hammer down and turning to face you.

He didn't speak and the silence lingered a little too long and so, instead of asking him verbally you simply beckoned him to follow you with one simple movement of your finger. Hector seemed hesitant to follow at first and glanced over to his sleeping dog before slowly walking over to the door.

When he reached the hall, closing the door to the forge softly behind him, you smiled and linked your arm with his. As expected, he was confused and wary of your actions but didn't resist nonetheless.

He walked with you until you reached that faraway tree and, instead of simply releasing your gentle grip on his arm, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit with you. Though, he was quick to pull his hand away once the two of you were seated. He still hadn't said a word since you arrived and it was clear he was still pondering over what you had told him the night before.

"What are we doing out here? What do you want from me?" His voice was timid yet there was still a trace of something stern.

You sighed and sat forward as you made an attempt to take his hands in your own but, as predicted, this time he only moved away.

Nevertheless, you continued, "I want to help."

Again, he looked at you as though he didn't understand. He didn't, couldn't, believe that you actually wanted to help him. No matter how much he wanted to he just couldn't. He had been made a fool of too many times and he wasn't about to trust you the same as everyone he had foolishly believed before.

"You're a magician but you've always been more focused on your forge and your necromancy. I can teach you how to protect yourself with magic," you explained, hoping that he would at least be able to hear the sincerity in your voice.

He leaned back against the tree and let out a deep breath. "It won't protect me from them, nothing will."

"It won't be able to protect you from them, no, but it will be able to protect you from anything else that threatens to harm you."

He chuckled dryly, "Then it isn't worth it. Nothing could harm me as they do."

You felt your chest tighten at not only his words but his attitude. He really believed he was beyond saving, that nothing could protect him from them anymore. He believed it to the point that he didn't want or need protection from anything else. He believed that if something else was to harm him, he would allow it. He wasn't scared of it anymore, death. He was only scared of them, of her.

"What I teach you may not be able to protect you from them at the moment but I promise you I will find a way to free you and, when I do, you will need what I am going to teach you. Until then, I will do my best to protect you but I can only do that if you trust me."

He was quiet, more so than before, and he continued to play with the ring on his finger as he thought.

After a moment, he bowed his head. "I'm sorry. I don't think I can."

With a small nod, you reached out again and this time he allowed you to take his hands into your own. "We'll work on it. For now, let's teach you some magic."

His expression remained unchanging but his mood seemed to lighten ever so slightly. He didn't even attempt to pull away this time and allowed you to slip his gloves from his hands.

"Much better. Now, look at your hands and envision a flame. Feel its warmth, the heat running over your skin. See the flicker of the light, the shadow it casts on your fingertips." You released his hands and watched as he began to focus.

You could see he was trying, even if it was only to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, you really were trying to help him. You could feel the magic in him just dying to burst out. It was a shame that he never learnt these things before, maybe he would have ended up somewhere else instead of here with a slave ring on his finger.

Even you could feel the surge of energy coming from him but then, nothing.

"It's no use. I can't do it," he huffed, his gaze still cast down.

"Yes, you can. You just have to believe you can. Try again," you took his hands and cupped them with your own, "Feel the magic within you, call it forward. Close your eyes and focus on it, on the energy. Picture the flame, feel the flame."

He did as you instructed and closed his eyes. His brows knotted and you could see the determination within him. No matter how helpless he felt, he still had some fight left in him.

You were the first to see it, the spark, the flicker of light that ran across his fingertips. Not long after, he opened his eyes wide and stared at the flame in his hand.

"I- I did it." He sounded completely bewildered. The man who could reanimate the dead and forge devils from hell was amazed that he could create a tiny little flame in his hands.

"See, I told you. You just have to believe in yourself more. Usually, you use darker magic but that doesn't mean you can't tap into this side as well. We'll make a proper magician out of you yet," you declared proudly with a grin.

You caught the glimpse of a smile that danced across his face for a moment, only for it to vanish soon after. "I need to go back."

"Come on Hector, the day is over. Your work is done until tomorrow."

"I know, I just- I need to go back. She- She'll-" He was already walking away as he spoke, his words as rushed as his movements.

You followed behind, refusing to leave him alone as you had done time and time before. Never again, you wanted to be by his side every time someone or something tried to harm him. The last time you left him alone he wasn't the same the next day, you couldn't leave him now.

"Who are you talking about? Carmilla? Lenore? What else could they do to you?"

He slowed to a halt after you mentioned their names, her, name. Though, you were not entirely sure which of the two had him hanging his head down so low. He was ashamed of something, though you assumed it was simply because of the mess he was in. He blamed himself for his current predicament but there was more to it, he was hiding something.

"Just- Just stop worrying about me. Stop giving me hope." Hector's voice once again sounded shattered, just as it had so many times before.

He ran a hand through his hair before he began to walk again, his pace quickening ever so slightly. He seemed desperate to get back to his forge. He still didn't trust you but you couldn't stop. You wanted to give him hope because he needed hope, he also needed to know that you were being sincere and that you really meant everything you said.

That was why you followed him all the way back to his forge, stopping him just before he could open the door by placing your hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not going to leave you again, I promise." You felt him tense and relax all at once because of your words.

He still wasn't sure about you but you were sure about him. You were not going to act against the council of sisters until you had a stable plan but you knew that you would do anything to keep him safe, even if it would put you in danger.

With a creak, the door opened and you found Lenore sitting inside petting Cezar. Her eyes glanced over to where you stood, scanning over Hector briefly only for her heavy gaze to land on you.

"Hector, dear. Where were you," she spoke directly to him but her eyes didn't once leave yours.

His head remained low, eyes trained on the ground by his feet and he breathed in to speak. Only you cut him off before he could, "He finished his work so I asked him to help me with some chores, I hope you don't mind."

Her eyes softly moved over to him and she raised an eyebrow before locking eyes with you again. "Not at all, but I require his assistance now so if you wouldn't mind-"

"Actually, I was hoping to speak with you regarding Hector. I'm sure that whatever you need him for can wait, or maybe I could assist you after we talk?" You decided to test your luck and even cut her off before she had finished speaking.

You knew she was growing irritated, though she was doing well at not showing it physically. The only way you could tell was from the feeling you had, your magic sensing a snippet of her emotions. Still, she remained composed and answered you, "Trust me, only Hector can assist me with this, but I suppose it can wait for now."

She put Cezar down and walked over to the two of you. Hector, with his head still hanging low, stepped to the side to allow her to pass but she lingered near him for a little too long.

Seeing how tense he grew gave you the answer you had been searching for, Lenore was the 'she' that he kept referring to. That much was obvious but you were still unsure of exactly what she was doing to him. There were no signs of torture or beating but something was clearly very wrong.

Without another word, the two of you left him there to continue your conversation elsewhere. She led you through the castle until you reached the room you had been to many times before. Taking a seat around the large, round table, she sighed and crossed one leg over the other. "So, what is it about Hector that you wish to discuss?"

"I want to teach him."

Again, she raised an eyebrow at your words. "Teach him what?"

"Magic. Only a little bit but if you allow me to train him I will be able to use his magic to fuel mine. Use him to become more powerful, to help me when the time comes to take over that town," you explained, hoping that she would agree.

"Why not just use one of our magicians? Surely they would have the same effect?" she stated, clearly disliking your proposition.

You shook your head. "Hector is a forgemaster and a necromancer. His magic is stronger than theirs, even if he doesn't know it yet. Besides, he won't ever be able to use what I teach him against you. Can you say the same for your magicians? Are they really that loyal to you?"

Lenore hummed in thought for a moment, finally considering your proposition seriously.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt, but you cannot train him while he is working, we still need him to work the forge. We still need the army he is building," she concluded with a smile, once again acting as if the two of you really were on the same side.

You would never be on the same side as her, not while she was hurting Hector. Nor while she was working with Carmilla. You would have to sway them, deceive the deceivers, if you were to ever have even a chance at freeing Hector. And so, you would continue to put on a smile and aid the vampires for as long as necessary.

"I can train him at night, that way it won't get in the way of his work and you can watch over his training if you please."

Lenore seemed not to like the idea of Hector spending most nights training with you, though you still didn't understand why. What did she have over him? Just what assistance did she need from him?

"Very well, if he will be of use to you then train him. Carmilla will not care as long as she gets her army. Just know this, Hector belongs to me." Lenore's words sounded more like a warning and, for the first time since you had arrived, she was showing her true colours.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10

#netflix castlevania #Castlevania #Hector #hector x reader

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