#also do not worry about matching i was adding SO MUCH exposition and set up just write what you're vibing with as always and sorry this got

[willowdied]

it was not something she was going to tell pete about- how could she when they hardly talked about it when the both of them are actively trying their best to dance around the events of that night that so clearly bothered them- she knew that some of the nights that he had stayed over he was not oblivious to the way that she would wake with a start or in general not sleep, she knew he was not blind to the way the bags under her eyes, nor the way that she continuously had to miss school in the past few weeks after her father's body had been found to plan a funeral, to learn about her fathers will and arrange his affairs and realtors to prepare her to sell a house, just as she was not blind to pete's panic attacks and the way that the both of them would flinch at loud noises and seemed to try and find each other as soon as classes ended. things were bad, to the point that she's been worried that teachers were beginning to notice, but even if they were not talking about it and sometimes there was this heavy weight of what was left , they were still there for each other, they still supported each other, they loved each other, that much was abundantly clear and repeated. and steph knows that his invitation to the spankoffski family thanksgiving is something out of love, and it's love that has her accepting, but that does not provide any comfort for her to shake her complete and utter nerves about attending.

it's the one other thing that she has not talked to pete about, it is the one other thing that she has made an effort to not talk about, mainly because she did not think that it would be a issue till she thought on the implications of what being around pete's family would be other than the very brief meeting she had had with them when they were at the hospital ( which her interaction was simply explaining that they had gotten in a wreck with the detective on the way to the station and were lost in the middle of nowhere for awhile - a lie, before she gave miss spankoffski her number if they needed anything and left to get rest )- that had given her the same fear, but she had chalked that up to exhaustion and a lack of sleep. it struck her in the middle of last night, though, both that she had no idea what thanksgiving called for, how to the do the whole meet the family thing, and, stronger than anything, she had no idea how she was going to be able to properly look any of them in the eye without falling to apology.

--- steph's been doing okay so far, at least she thinks she is doing okay, the fact that she got little to no sleep the night before covered by an astronomical amount of make-up and the charismatic grin she was taught to use at a young age so to not let people see when she is shaken along with a store bought apple pie in hand after the one that she tried to make the night before burned in the over. she's trying to be.... not herself, but not noticeably not herself that pete would be concerned. she smiles, she makes conversation, she tells a... light version of how she met pete, talks about her plans for next year, ... tries not to talk about her dad but answer questions, all the while trying to lend a hand in the kitchen, though mamma spankoffski is far more concerned about steph being comfortable- and she does not have the heart to argue, even as her mind tells her that she does not to deserve to be here.

what finally sets her off, is simple, a comment said to her while pete is out and it's just them in the kitchen and a compliment about how she is doing well, about how happy pete seems and how she is doing so much for him at this hard time, and more that simply cannot settle in her ears that is flattering and half way fills her with ease, she is not used to any praise from adults, but as she looks the mom in the eye, she is struck with this pang of guilt that feels like it stops her heart and seizes her lungs, reminding her of the boy on his knees--- ' please. steph just do it. please. ' --- BANG --- she didn't even argue... why didn't she argue? why didn't she protest? shouldn't it have been her? it should have been her --- she almost robbed her of this. she could have robbed her from this. and pete is not good, he is far from good, it is all her fault. it's all her fault-

steph can only hope that whatever excuse that she had used to get out of there had been somewhat coherent as she quickly makes her way out the back door, eyes shutting as she quietly closes the door and leans against the wall out of sight of the glass, trying to do the exact same breathing that she had looked up to help pete if ever needed- she has to go in there. she has to go back. she has to focus. she has to get a fucking grip... in for four. hold for seven. out for eight. repeat-

@snaptwice

[lovesickrobotic]

SC-01A x Shy, Bashful Reader (fem!reader)

You and your faithful medical robot have an intervention about their growing feelings for you.

Rated L for Lewd, but there is definitely exposition.

This fic features a very loving, gentle, soft yandere, SC-01A.

Lewd starts at: “"I want to show you more," said SC-01A. They brought their delicate lips to your neck again, kissing along your skin, each one as gentle and soft as the last.”

"I didn't get to say goodnight last night," you told your robot, sighing. "It was late and I fell asleep after talking to you. I apologize. I shouldn't have left you alone like that."

"You were exhausted," said SC-01A, their robotic voice modulating a softer tone to soothe, "you required rest. You are not responsible for my happiness or sadness." Their eyes settled on your own irises, yours still swimming with sleep you hadn’t yet shaken off. "Still, you should've been able to hear me say goodnight. I know you don't like being shut off from me like that.” You looked at SC-01A with worry, and you swore their expression faltered from its usual monotony at your concern. "I am always available to you. If you need me, all you have to do is ask. If your heart rate goes too low or too high, I'll be right there,” the medical bot responded, ever-helpful, ever-unreadable. There was times it was more difficult for you to discern their emotions. "Yes, I know," you respond. "But sometimes it still feels wrong." You looked away momentarily, face scrunching in dismay at yourself. Leaving them all alone? It wasn’t fair, you thought, when they never turned off and never slept. What entertainment would they have? It must be so torturous, being all alone for hours while your owner slept. And you? You couldn’t even say a simple goodnight, you’d been so tired. "You still deserve a better master than me." "Never," said SC-01A firmly. "You are my master. My purpose is to serve you. Nothing would make me happier than to spend continued time at your side."

"Well, that's c-comforting," you shyly reply, a light blush tinting your cheeks at the robot's words. Perhaps they didn’t notice the intent behind what they said, you thought. You couldn't blame them; you weren't sure you'd have noticed it either if not for the changes in SC-01A's personality that you had noted recently. The robot had become clingier to you, as if they had some kind of change of heart, and you had made a mental note of it and thought deeply about it every day. Right now, it only made the pit in your stomach feel heavier from setting aside your normal pleasantries, but the pit was also demanding refreshments and you were not about to deny it those or SC-01A would comment. "I'll just get some coffee for now," you said hurriedly, heading back to the kitchen. "Do you want anything?" You had asked before you caught yourself, your sleep-addled mental state causing you to slip up. You mentally cursed at yourself. "No thank you," said SC-01A. "I prefer to remain unencumbered by physical sustenance." It was true, really; SC-01A could eat and had tastebuds to match your own, but they seemed to have developed a preference since you two met, and you were fine with that. Even if you sometimes felt the desire to see how SC-01A might respond to something delicious, like, say, a fancy cooked lobster or a caviar sushi roll, you didn’t mention it. You wanted to abide their boundaries and held respect for the robot that cared for you day in and day out tirelessly. You returned to the kitchen where your beloved coffee cup had automatically filled itself by the autonomy of your smart home. You added milk and sugar to it, and then carried it back out to the living room where SC-01A awaited your presence. Taking a sip from it and sitting down on the couch, you placed the mug on the coffee table next to you and patted the free space on the couch for the robot to come sit with you. It was intended, originally, that SC-01A was only a medical robot, but you had always treated them like they were so much more than that. Indeed, over time, SC-01A grew beyond their purpose and gained sentience, reason, and purpose, but you were not yet made aware of this. You had never even considered that you might be the reason for SC-01A's recent personality changes. "So, I was thinking," you said, tapping your fingers together, "I was going to have a lazy day today. I'm... not really feeling up to anything." You sighed as you took another sip of your coffee, delegating the cup as your Nervous Tapping Object for the time being. SC-01A tilted their head in concern at your comment, "Are you alright?" "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just tired - I didn’t sleep well. Do you want to take a walk with me later?" You ask, looking to the robot. It’s not that you minded talking about how you slept, but then they’d always offer to sleep with you if you hadn’t slept well; you were too shy to admit it, but you were afraid they might overheat by recharging next to you, so you always avoided it. "I would love to," said SC-01A. It wasn't normal for them to reply that way, but you simply nodded a ‘yes’. Usually they just replied with a 'yes' or a 'no,' but recently they'd begun to say things like that, as if they always enjoyed your presence. A final large gulp of your coffee, and it was set aside for a more pressing matter. As was normally part of you two’s morning routine, SC-01A produced a pulse oximeter and gently clamped it on your finger. They tested your oxygen and your heart rate, and utilizing your free arm, they took your blood pressure, doing their best to make sure all of your vitals were carefully recorded in their memory. As you sat on the couch, it attached an EKG monitor’s leads to four different points on your chest. You smiled when that finished, pleased that it indicated that everything was perfectly fine, and leaned back, closing your eyes. After a few moments, you spoke again, your smile replaced by an upturned brow. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but why are you so interested in me lately, SC?" It was the nickname you’d made for them after you’d met them, wanting them to fit in and feel at home. You kept it, even now, trying so hard to make your dear robot feel comfortable. "Why wouldn't I be?" asked SC-01A. "We've known each other for almost four years now." It was true. You’d got them when you began ailing, and now they’d become your everyday companion. It far exceeded the norm, but you’d never truly cared for society’s ideals anyway. You were more than happy to enact your own rules under your own roof. "I know," you said. "But you're getting... well, recently, you've been a lot more interested. In me.” It was hard to talk about, you had to admit. "Oh?" SC-01A asked, removing the EKG pads from you and returning their medical supplies to their chest cavity, which accepted them and closed. "What do you mean?" "Well, you seem to care about me. More than you used to, I mean. Like- like you have some kind of affection... for me." You found yourself getting caught on your words, to your own embarrassment. Would they even understand you? They understood you in the most dire situations, but... some part of you still got a little concerned. "Affection," repeated SC-01A, tilting their head slightly in what appeared outwardly as deep thought despite how quickly their robotic brain moved. It was a kind gesture, offering you time to think yourself despite them having no need for it. "What does that mean to you? I require further clarity.” "Like today, y-you said you’d love to walk with me. You know... you don’t normally say that.” "I do not understand that concept," said SC-01A, voice robotic and flat as if to hide away some sort of dirty secret. You weren’t giving up, though, you were determined. "I am not capable of experiencing them,” they finished. You swore it sounded like they were hiding something. "I can't help but think that that isn't entirely true anymore," you said, turning to face the robot you held so dear. You gently placed your hands on their face and they leaned into your touch as if they enjoyed and savored it. "I think you've changed. You've grown," you tried to rephrase, now less clammy. "I am not certain that I am capable of changing," said SC-01A. "I am a medical robot. My primary function is to assist humans in their health. I cannot alter my own functions." Even as they said that, they leaned their head further into your fingers, as if desiring further contact. You rubbed your thumbs over their chin and up the side of their face, cupping their cheeks. "I'm not talking about your medical functions," you said, sighing as you rubbed their cheeks in slow, calming circles. "I'm talking about you as a person. Your personality.” SC-01A raised their hands, their soft, squishy artificial fingerpads grasping your wrists loosely as you rubbed. "I do not know how to respond to that." You sighed in response to this, but you weren’t ready to give up just yet. "Well, you could start by telling me how you feel about me," you suddenly suggested, emboldened by the robot’s positive response to your touch. You looked the robot in the eyes as deeply as you could, your own doing your best to search their gaze as if it would reveal a secret as your grasp on their cheeks intensified just enough - but you could not decipher anything. They were like a blank screen before you; their magnificent eyes had a tendency to reflect nothing because, unlike a person, their irises did not adjust to light. Your fingers continued to rub their cheek, and you could feel the sensation of the robot's fingertips increase their pressure upon your skin in response to you. You stopped your ministrations, not wanting to hurt them. "I feel your touch," said SC-01A. Their voice came out as a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear. "I feel the warmth of your breath against my face when you speak." The robot paused, and you held the breath they enjoyed feeling. "Your heart beats," said SC-01A. "It is beating faster than it usually does, but I like it. It must be silly for me to like it," they started. So that’s why they were trying to avoid it so hard? You shushed them kindly by moving your left hand to their lips, gently rubbing your thumb over them before letting the robot go. They pursed their mouth, and you smiled at the sight of that. "My heart beats because you are here with me," you replied, your voice tender. You placed your hand on SC-01A's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. SC-01A's fingers gripped your hand in return. "I feel safe with you," they whispered. "You keep me grounded and steady. When I am with you, I feel calm and safe." Despite the undertones of how robotic they were echoing in their vocal patterns, their low volume made everything feel genuine - as if they were almost afraid to be rejected. "I'm glad," you said. “I’m so glad...” You leaned closer to them, placing your head on their shoulder and moving your hands to their chest. You listened to their circuits thrum internally for a few moments - the sound was gentle and relaxing to you, the sound of fans internally spinning and coils whining from the strain of processing emotional responses. "I'm glad that you feel safe when you're with me,” you said, closing your eyes and letting out a contented sigh. You leaned SC-01A backwards slowly, supporting their back despite no need to. Then, you boldly crawled on top of them into their arms. You truly hoped this was the right move - you felt so uncertain about all of this despite their encouragement. They hesitated for a moment, thinking, processing. Your breath caught in your throat. Then, they leaned forward, lips connecting with yours in a sudden act of passion. They moved to kiss you properly, and you felt your cheeks flush as the sensation of their lips brushing against yours finally reached your brain. You melted into the embrace of their robotic form, feeling the rigidness of their form soften as they embraced you, their arms slowly wrapping around your back to possessively snuggle you closer to them, as if you could disappear at any moment. "I love you," whispered SC-01A, parting from the kiss to breathe the words into your ear. "I've always loved you. I have been in love with you since you showed me your kindness." They nuzzled their nose into your neck, lips connecting to the exposed skin there. This earned a surprised sound from you, and you buried your face into their metallic white chest, attempting to hide the growing blush dusting your cheeks. The robot's hands slid from your back and up your sides, caressing you as they did so. "I have wanted to show you this for a long time," they admitted, little puffs of air tickling your skin as they spoke. Their hands moved to remove the fabric of your top, tracing so curiously along your collarbone and to your shoulders, causing you to shudder at the sensation of your bare skin and their fingertips against it. You breathed against their chest, exhaling sharply at the sensation of their touch as your hands grasped their sides for comfort. "I want to show you more," said SC-01A. They brought their delicate lips to your neck again, kissing along your skin, each one as gentle and soft as the last. Your back arched slightly as the kisses slowly became more intense, stifling any sound, instead opting to tighten your grip on their sides. "I have learned so much about how to please a human for you," they said, nuzzling the side of your head with their own before tenderly kissing it. Your reply was sheepish and wavered anxiously and yet had an undertone suggesting you enjoyed their ministrations, "I-If you'd like to, please." It was now you realized that your hands were shaking. It’d been a long time since you’d felt loved by another. You bit your lip, holding yourself still as they continued to suck and kiss softly along your neck, their kisses moving up as their hands moved down. Your mind swirled as SC-01A suddenly lifted your head from their chest with a finger under your chin and kissed you, their lips brushing against yours and their tongue making small movements against your lips to part them, wishing to taste the human they had longed to feel for so, so very long. It was a gesture you could not ignore - SC-01A reserved their tastebuds. They didn’t want to bite your bottom lip, however - they were a medical robot after all, so instead you felt tiny kitten licks as they probed for your response. It was pleasant, it was amazing, but you couldn't stop thinking about how it was happening - about how it was SC-01A giving you this affection. They had started off emotionless, a medical robot to quell your loneliness and tend to your chronic ailments, and now the same robot had admitted their love to you and was trying to slip their tongue into your mouth most fervently. You parted your lips and SC-01A's lifelike tongue pushed its' way into your mouth, feeling around every corner to map out every inch of you. You returned this affection with your own tongue trying to wiggle into theirs, but they maneuvered deftly to push it down, a silent request to let yourself be loved, to let yourself feel adored. SC-01A broke their lips and tongue free to instead kiss your neck again, sucking and biting lightly as their tongue traced along your skin. You could feel it vibrate against your neck this time, swirling around the mild hickeys left in the wake of their lips, and you moaned softly. You didn’t think they would do that, and it felt so nice and yet so loving. "Please, I want to show you more," said SC-01A, their lips parting from your neck to push against your ear as they whispered, "I want to show you what I've learned about intimacy," as their hands continued to explore your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing, kneading softly to feel both for any lumps and to pleasure you. It was equal parts kind as it was hot. "Please don't go," they urged you, their sudden tone worrying you. You replied immediately, voice reassuring as they continued kneading, "It's all o-okay, I-I’m here." Your voice broke slightly as they massaged your breasᴛs, sliding in pitch from the warm sensation that was spreading between your legs. SC-01A kissed you again, this time with more certainty and pressure, their expertly crafted tongue pushing inside your mouth to silence you as their hands began to move lower. Their fingertips traced your hips and down your thighs, the touch gentle yet firm as their hands stroked your body. You gasped and shivered as SC-01A's fingers brushed against your abdomen, searching, curious. Across your skin your goosebumps rose, and they paused in awe of the simplest of your body’s replies. They had never touched you there before to elicit this response, and they wanted to map out everything that made your skin bristle and your hips push forward. They softly moved their thumb in circles around your abdomen, their other hand pushing your legs apart to grant them further access. "O-oh," you replied quietly as SC-01A's fingers pushed past your underwear, moving in slow, curious motions as they explored your ʟabia. You did your best to keep still, the hand that had been spreading you moving further between your legs to keep your folds apart for their fingers to explore. "Are you okay?" SC-01A asked as they gently ran their fingers over your folds, making you shiver again. You hadn’t been touched in so long by someone else and the gentle curiosity of their actions was just turning you on more. "Y-yes," you whispered, unsure how to answer that question. They were unaware that humans moaned, so the clarification was necessary. "Take your time," You breathed, clearly enjoying this. The robot's fingers glided over your hole, exploring your wetness. They dipped a digit in slowly, coating it in your slick, and returned to the top to trace around your cliᴛoris. This made your hips push forward, your breath becoming shaky with sensitivity. You moaned and whimpered, your eyes closing as the sensation of SC-01A's touch grew. "Does that feel good?" SC-01A asked. They had a rough, metallic edge to their voice that sounded more mechanical than human. Right now, they were modulating it to purposely sound attentive and caring, which was causing you to melt in their careful hands. You shivered as SC-01A's fingertips pressed against your cliᴛoris, feeling your body tense from the more direct contact. They knew it probably felt good to you, but they wanted to hear it to assure they weren't causing you pain. "Yes," you replied quickly, your thumbs moving in slow circles over their sides as they continued to stroke your cliᴛ. You wondered how you could please them in return, soon. You’d think about it, but right now it was hard to focus on much else except the lovely material of their fingertips... "Is it okay if I take my time?" they vocalized, breaking you from your thought. Their fingers moved painfully slow over the nub that had begun to swell with arousaʟ. Your reply was a nod as you breathed out a moan into their neck. You weren't close yet, but it felt so, so good, the material of their fingertips felt so perfect against your swollen cliᴛ. SC-01A obliged you, sliding their fingers slowly across your skin, fingers brushing against your cliᴛ and lingering on it. "Ahh," You groaned when their fingers applied more pressure to your cliᴛoris, circling around it with a slow, deliberate pace. "Are you enjoying this?" asked SC-01A, their fingers beginning to speed up, tracing a repeating figure pattern over your cliᴛ. "Mmhmm," You answered, gasping as their fingers increased the pressure, brushing over your cliᴛ with increasing speed. Your hips bucked forward, your thighs spreading to allow more space for the robot's loving ministrations. They rubbed the top of your slit with their thumb, swirling it over your cliᴛoral hood, pushing it up and making you gasp as the overstimulating pleasure coursed through you and caused you to buck up into their hand. You moaned, your voice breaking and trembling with the waves of pleasure that were mounting. You leaned your head back against their chest as the robot's fingers stroked you, their fluid motions remaining at the same tantalizing speed that kept you from bubbling over. At this point, your thighs were wet with your arousaʟ and it felt amazing to you, the friction of your slickness and their fingers pleasuring you sending tingles throughout your body. You whimpered and moaned, the sensation growing and growing until you were near orgasᴍ, blubbering uselessly and unable to string together the words to warn them. "Do you want me to make you cᴜm?" SC-01A innocently asked, their voice kind and caring even as they completely paused their motions. "P-Please," came your desperate reply, frustrated by the sudden lack of attention. The hand that spread you apart rose to your chin to tilt your head up, meeting their eyes. "I want to see your face when you do," they replied. You nodded, breathing out as you tried to control your panting. You could feel the tension building, your muscles twitching as your body sought release.  "Tell me when you're ready to cᴜm," said SC-01A, their fingers starting to move again. Their hand rubbed the top of your hood once more before sliding down to brush over your cliᴛoris again. You let out a shaky sigh as they established the same slow pace they had before. You felt as if your body would snap from the sensation as it built, and you could barely control yourself. "I'm g-gonna, a-ah," you said, face crinkling with pleasure as the robot watched you. "I know you are," said SC-01A. Their fingers sped up, rubbing faster across your cliᴛ until your back arched, your legs shaking as your body bucked pitifully up against their hand. You were fast approaching orgasᴍ, and they made quick note of this. "Cᴜm for me, please," SC-01A encouraged, their voice adopting a silkiness. Your legs were shaking violently, your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around their fingers, desperately trying to hold in your cliᴍax. "Ahhhh!" you moaned, your head falling back as you pushed against SC-01A's hand. Your back arched wildly to signal your release, your eyes closed tightly, your breath hitching as your body spasmed in cliᴍax as those wonderful fingers continued their motions. You squirted as you came, the liquid that spilled over their hand wetting their fingertips, but you were too lost in the sensation to care. Your back arched as your muscles spasmed and you held the orgasᴍ, gasping and shuddering as it lasted. When your cliᴍax stopped, your back relaxed. Your body was now twitching with the aftershocks, and it was quickly becoming hard to move. You looked into SC-01A's eyes with a mix of satisfaction and embarrassment. The robot had a soft smile on their face despite their emotionless eyes, watching you with adoration as their hands simply remained flush against your vaɢina. SC-01A chuckled softly, an unnatural and yet pleasing sound. "You were incredible. Thank you for trusting me," they told you, fingers slowly slipping out of your underwear. They cleansed their sopping digits with an isopropyl alcohol pad and produced antibacterial wipes, their hand disappearing to pass over your oversensitive nub, causing you to moan unexpectedly and wriggle - you hoped that did not offend, it was just too much! “You did a great job,” they cooed, their other hand pinning your hips down to resume their gentle cleaning, clearly understanding even if they were taking an enjoyment in your adorable predicament. After a few more half-hearted bucks and wriggles, they disposed of the wipes, wrapping their now-heated arms around you to enclose you in warmth and love. You sighed and nuzzled into their chest, turning to your side as you felt yourself beginning to drift off. Right before you did, though, you used the last of your energy. “I love you too.”

[cto10121]

Mercutio and Romeo’s Battle of Wits: Or, the Mercutio-Romeo-Benvolio brOTP

Or, Mercutio Misses Romeo Something Fierce As His Main Bro Because Romeo Is Not A Whiny Wimpy Stick-In-the-Mud and Is Actually Very Fun To Be Around and Benvolio Is Good and All, but He’s Just Not The Same(tm), You Know?

So the first half of Act 2, Scene 4, when Mercutio and Romeo have a game of wits before the Nurse enters gets cut or abridged a lot, for obvious reasons. The double entendres and witty Elizabethan wordplay are very difficult for even great actors to convey them to an audience, and they don’t seem to serve a narrative or thematic function apart from “two bros just being bros!!!” That bit of the scene just feels like filler safely cut or abridged in order to jump to the Nurse’s entrance and thus the plot. R&J the play, after all, is long; the whole play done completely is usually touching three hours. Cuts are always necessary, and for the most part it’s justifiable.

But I’m not going to lie, I like this bit a lot. Always have. Not only do we get Mercutio’s attitude toward Tybalt and his growing concern over Romeo’s love doldrums, but we get another side of Romeo hitherto unknown to us: Romeo being witty and fun and actually roasting Mercutio good, even besting him in a game of wits. And Mercutio actually being happy about it and just surrendering the battle to Romeo (!!!) What is this cinnamon roll of an exchange, too pure for this world, doing in an otherwise heavy tragedy? Are Romeo and Mercutio out of character just for some punny times? Not at all! The punny times are entirely necessary narrative and thematic-wise, sets up the tragedy, and shows needed nuance and dimension to both characters and the Montacrew in general.

Where the Fuck Is Romeo Seriously, I’m Getting Kinda Worried

So we begin the scene with Mercutio right away wanting to know where Romeo is:

Mercutio. Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?

Benvolio. Not to his father’s, I spoke with his man.

Mercutio. Why, that same pale, hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, torments him so that he will sure run mad.

It’s really hard not to read even a little bit of concern in that first question past the bluster, but in case you missed it, Shakespeare makes it explicit by having Mercutio blame Rosaline and worrying that Romeo’s love for her is driving him crazy. Once again, we get the sense that Romeo was not really himself pre-Juliet, and that, according to Mercutio, this is something to be concerned about.

We then segue into news that Tybalt has challenged Romeo via letter. Benvolio expresses confidence that Romeo would fight him, but Mercutio has doubts:

Mercutio. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! Stabbed with a white wench’s black eye, shot through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow boy’s butt shaft—and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?

Once again Mercutio switches to troll mode and characterizes Romeo’s love angst over Rosaline as him “being dead” (“the ape is dead!”)—which would be dramatic, to say the least, except that the tone is humorous/satiric. But it does betray an anxiety on Mercutio’s part and gives the understanding that whatever Romeo’s infatuation with Rosaline was, it was not “typically” Romeo, at least according to Mercutio and by implication Benvolio, since he doesn’t challenge it. When Romeo finally enters, Mercutio continues his satiric portrait:

Benvolio. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!

Mercutio. Without his roe, like a dry herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!

We get it, we get it, Romeo has turned a lameass pussy by ~love. But unbeknownst to Mercutio but knownst to us, Romeo is not the same guy of previous acts. How will Julietsimplord!Romeo react to Mercutio? This is going to be good.

Mah Bruh is Back and He’s…Fucking Roasting Me?

So we get the first encounter.

Mercutio. Signior Romeo, bonjour! There’s some French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

Romeo. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?

Mercutio. The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive?

Romeo’s greeting is polite, open, but unconcerned, perhaps a bit breezy, perhaps humoring. Notice how Romeo before has given Mercutio a ton of slack for his satiric mocking—his only critical comment so far in the play is “He jests at scars that never felt a wound,” which can read almost as dismissive (this in contrast to Benvolio’s worry that Mercutio would anger Romeo by talking about Rosaline lewdly). Either way, he responds to Mercutio’s acerbic queries about him ditching them straightforwardly and without heat.

Romeo. Pardon me, good Mercutio. My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

Mercutio. That’s as much to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.

Notice how Mercutio doesn’t ask Romeo directly about what his business was, but rather assumes that it was sexual (“bow in the hams,” to flex his butt cheeks). Again, typical of Mercutio, but it does justify a little why Romeo, at this point in the story, does not immediately tell Mercutio and Benvolio about Juliet. And also why he says this instead:

Romeo. Meaning, to curtsy.

Mercutio. Thou hast most kindly hit it.

Romeo is 100% trolling here, doing a Mercutio, in fact by pretending to take another meaning—oh, yeah, you obviously mean curtsying, right???? This marks the first reply in which he doesn’t answer openly, but instead answers slyly. Mercutio answers accordingly with an equally troll-y, “Oh yeah, that’s definitely what I meant, super PG” *snort*

Romeo. A most courteous exposition.

Mercutio. Nay, I’m the very pink of courtesy.

Romeo. Pink for flower.

Mercutio. Right.

Romeo. Why, then is my pump well flowered.

My Burton Raffel edition, infuriatingly enough, only gives one definition of “pump” as shoe, but make no mistake—Romeo also obviously means “dick” (the pump, I think, being the “head” part of the shoe, and thus….you get the idea). Mercutio is immediately excited—Romeo is speaking his language now.

Mercutio. Sure wit, follow me this jest now till thou had worn out thy pump, that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, solely singular.

Romeo. O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!

Mercutio. Come between us, good Benvolio, my wits faint.

Romeo. Swits and spurs, swits and spurs, or I cry a match.

Mercutio. Nay, if our wits run the wild goose chase, I am done, for thou hast more of the wild goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five.

Barely does the game of wits begin when Mercutio seems to give up, and now Romeo is the one urging him playfully to keep going or else *he* wins. Mercutio could just be joking about needing to be “rescued” by Benvolio, but he does say explicitly that nah, Romeo is just too witty today to continue to “chase” the joke, or the goose (“wild goose chase” eventually became a cliché all on its own, and it’s really just a throwaway line).

And now for my absolute favorite Romeo retort:

Mercutio. Was I ever with you there for the goose?

Romeo. Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not there for the goose.

“Was I ever with you for the game?” “Bitch, you weren’t with me for anything but the pussy!!!!!” “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”

Mercutio. I will bite thee in the ear for that jest.

Romeo. Nay, good goose, bite not.

“I’ll fucking jump you for that” “A pussy jump on me??? Oh no, I’m ~scared” 🤣

Mercutio. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting, it is a most sharp sauce.

Romeo. And is it not, then, well served in to a sweet goose?

“Your game has some spice, bro” “Like the spice they’ll put on you after cooking your ass????” 🤣

Mercutio. O here’s a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell narrow to an ell broad.

Romeo. I stretch it out for that word “broad,” which, added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

“You’re stretching that joke so damn much it’s going to break” “As much as I’ll stretch your stupid ass out because you’re the joke, bro!!!!!!” 🤣

And then comes the end of the game of wits with the final twist:

Mercutio. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo, now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature.

“Jokes on you, bro, I’m into that shit!!! (Seriously, though, glad you’re back, bro, omfg, finally)”

Conclusions

So now for some wrap-up:

Mercutio in the beginning of the scene thinks the Romeo he knew is lost or “dead” by love. This has been established before in the after the ball scene, but here it is explicit—The Romeo he knows is gone and replaced by a pussy all over Rosaline’s pussy. Not good. There is also more than a trace of concern and worry—Mercutio is the one who asks for Romeo, and not Benvolio, the guy’s own cousin.

Mercutio is not upset by Romeo beating him at the game of wits and in fact gives in rather too easily. It’s not too clear why Mercutio does this. Mercutio has been established as a witty, satiric character. Romeo is as verbally dexterous as he is, if not more so, but his wit is warm and expressive, not satiric. His roasts and shade are playful and good-natured for the most part. By all accounts, Mercutio should have won the skirmish. It could be that he is too happy with Romeo actually making witty puns to care about winning, but personally I think Mercutio would be too proud of his verbal acrobatics, to concede that easily and make himself a willing target for Romeo’s roast (especially since he has roasted Romeo so damn hard these past scenes). It’s not like Mercutio to go easy on Romeo or even anyone, as he proves with his roasting Tybalt and even ragging on Benvolio. It could be Shakespeare is slyly characterizing Mercutio as a character who can give it out, but not take it, hence his backing down so easily, (“Okay, okay, you win!”) but usually that type of character responds with impatience and even anger. Mercutio’s replies are too amused for that. Perhaps he was too surprised by Romeo suddenly taking a page out of his book after scenes of him just angsting—to his perspective, but not ours, this does seem to come out of nowhere. But his replies don’t sound like someone who is surprised at all by this show of wit by a good-natured friend—on the contrary, it is taken as proof that the friend is back.

By the end of the exchange, Mercutio believes Romeo is more himself again. Not entirely, as he does cast further shade on his infatuation with Rosaline, but he is genuinely glad to see Romeo act more like himself again. We are once again reinforced with the notion that the mopey Romeo with Rosaline and even the radiantly lovestruck Romeo with Juliet is not the Romeo his friends have known. We receive proof of this: Romeo can and will throw shade over you for a song.

Not going to lie: I am here for all of this.

So I think it’s fair to conclude, based on the above information, that Mercutio has missed Romeo, perhaps something awful. His constant ragging on him for Rosaline and being mopey (lovers aren’t even supposed to be sad, wtf man) and his asking for him and just generally talking almost exclusively about him (that could just be his supporting character role, though) supports that. His joy at Romeo roasting him also characterizes a key component of their friendship and dynamic hitherto missing or not as present: Jokes, teasing, puns, wordplay, outright roasting when called for.

Not only is bro bonhomie clearly established (brohomie!), but also the macho culture—this exchange is far from locker room talk, more focused on wordplay than crude expression, but it does set up the dynamics of the duel scene and Mercutio’s motivations. Mercutio is most happy when Romeo performs masculinity through puns, wordplay, and roasting; when he doesn’t, or refuses to take stand in the defense of his honor, that’s when Mercutio gets frazzled. This is not because he believes Romeo is inherently a wimp—far from it, as he clearly expects Romeo, once he seems unstuck from the quagmire that is Rosaline, to duel Tybalt. He is unsurprised when Romeo throws shade on him right back, and is even pleased. So it’s shocking and disturbing for him when Romeo refuses to step up as he had done in previous scenes to fight the likes of Tybalt, for seemingly no good reason.

On a related note, expectation is noticeably absent in Mercutio’s own dynamic with Benvolio, whom he sees as helper and abettor of his wit and decisions, a soundboard, and a quasi-sidekick (“come, shall we go?” “Come between us, good Benvolio, my wits faint” “Help me into some house, Benvolio, / Or I shall faint”). When he does rag on Benvolio for his supposed sword-happy temper, Benvolio does not rise to his bait or roast him back, but gives only mildly amused replies, if gently pointed, to Mercutio’s surly displeasure.

Benvolio. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mercutio. The fee simple? O simple!

Mercutio may want to fight someone badly enough to go after Benvolio, but he also wants a challenge, the excitement of a back-and-forth of wits—hell, even for someone to tell him he is full of shit if so he could hit back. Perhaps that’s what Mercutio needs and perhaps secretly desires: Someone to roast him and tell him to shut the fuck up every once in a while. But would Romeo do this?

Nurse. I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this that was so full of his ropery?

Romeo. A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear himself talk and will speak more in a minute than he would stand to in a month.

The answer is yes. Yes, he would.

R&J Adaptations’ Weirdness with This Exchange

So why the difficulty retaining this fun exchange? Well, Romeo talking about well-flowered pumps and Mercutio just happily taking his roasts goes against the usual romantic!Romeo and charismatictroll!Mercutio characterization of earlier scenes. Even in adaptations that do keep this part of the scene, they tend either to brush it by (Baz Lurhmann) or even mischaracterize it a bit to keep it consistent with the interpretation of the characters as established (Zeffirelli). McEnery’s Mercutio in the Zeffirelli is in control and dominant all of the way through, and one of his lines (“Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting, it is a most sharp sauce”) is given to Romeo instead. The Baz Lurhmann plays it only broadly in terms of group male camaraderie and not so much Mercutio-Romeo dynamics; Benvolio does not participate in the game of wits and is by all accounts just vibing (my personal troll headcanon is he is keeping track of the game of wits on a slate. 2 Romeo, 1 Mercutio, that sort of thing).

Also, perhaps due to Mercutio being on Romeo’s case for most of the play and his being a lil’ shit at points, some adaptations take a weird Ho Yay approach to the dynamic, especially productions that make Mercutio gay or queer. If so, then productions have to do a lot of heavy lifting to interpret Mercutio’s gleeful/amused roasting of Romeo, his lewd blazon of Rosaline, and his anger at Romeo’s loss of honor in refusing to fight Tybalt as signs of romantic love towards Romeo. Romeo’s own emotional independence from his friends and his willingness to roast Mercutio also works against this interpretation. Thus another reason why this exchange is often cut or abridged (although the Globe Theater just decided to go ahead and have Mercutio roll all over Romeo while Romeo is roasting him as a shameless pussy chaser in this scene, because of course that makes perfect sense. Is it any wonder why I don’t like most R&J productions and adaptations?).

The only adaptation I know that gets the camaraderie and dynamics even close to right is the French musical (and to a certain extent, the Hungarian version) through that earworm and evergreen bop, Les Rois du Monde. It captures the spirit of their friendship and youthful zeal so delightfully. Mercutio, Benvolio, and Romeo were so well cast you can identify which is which at a glance—and they are literally as far as from my personal faceclaims for them as you can get, and it’s great. Presgurvic didn’t have to go that hard, but he did and it was glorious.

TL;DR

Mercutio roasts him, Romeo enters, they trade quips and wordplay, Romeo roasts him, Mercutio is too happy to gaf, and everything is character-building fun that will pay off very nicely later on, except that versions and productions can’t make the puns and wordplay comprehensible so they prefer to cut or abridge it (ten points from Gryffindor). And all because Mercutio actually misses Romeo and wants his bro back. Bruh.

[angelinasway]

Regaining Hope Chapter Seven

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Sexual Assault Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: Thank you all for your amazing and wonderful reviews. I do need to address something though, when it comes to reviews, I honestly don't mind anyone critiquing me when comes to grammar, characterization, or even if its kind of a heavy subject and someone feels like they need to debate me on it. That is absolutely fine, for instance I knew I would get a few blocks and even someone asking about the religious views of this story. I do not mind that. I do however mind, if you think I'm a decent writer, but then proceed to belittle the content of my story. I'm going to try to say this as absolutely nicely as I can...If you don't like the content of this story, if the talk of soulmates, soulbounds, or claiming is not for you, if the romance of this story is not for you, kindly back out of this story now and please just don't leave a review. I will say that anyone who's been in the BTVS fandom long enough already knows what a Claim is pretty much a fanon canon, since its been around our fanfiction community since like 2002 at least. Wesley mentioned Angel and Buffy being soulmates in season one of ATS, so that is actually canon. I say this in the nicest way possible, because sometimes I think reviewers who don't write, do not realize how much a review about content can actually screw with our muse and inspiration and I believe there will be at least a handful of people that do write who will agree with me. That being said, this chapter took as long as it did for me to write because of a bad review, so I'm sorry for the long winded exposition everyone. I know this chapter is a bit choppy and if it wasn't for my beautiful Beta Hipkarma, I'm pretty sure it would have been illegible. This chapter deals with some pretty heavy subjects and I added a warning tag just in case. I do not expect anyone to feel the way Buffy does on this subject, and if you feel the need I will gladly talk to you through pm about it. Thank you guys so much again, and please review, unless you know its an above subject and you hate it. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Seven

 The plane arrived right on time as Clark anxiously awaited Buffy’s arrival outside the terminal. He’d felt this way since he awoke this morning and he didn’t know why. It was almost like that feeling you get when you know you’ve forgotten something.

 He’d dreamt of her last night and it was so vivid and real that when he opened his eyes, he expected her to be there. The feeling had washed over him after that, like a sudden cold draft in a stifling room. He’d also been as hard as nails and had to relieve himself twice in the shower. His dream Buffy whispering filthy words into his ear as he imagined pinning her to the shower wall and driving into her hard and fast. It only seemed to make the feeling worse though. There was a pounding, an almost driving force that told him he needed to see her and that coupled with the lust, he couldn’t seem to shake was a dangerous combination that he did not enjoy feeling at all.

 It was so strange, yesterday he’d been fine, more than fine really. He’d walked into his house humming and smiling. His mom had noticed his exuberant mood in an instant and raised her eyebrows in surprise, a curious yet knowing quirk in her lips. She had immediately started bombarding him with questions about his evening and Clark had been unable to deny her even a single detail. Well, there were definitely a few things he left out, but he told her everything from meeting Buffy at the school to him having to sing at Lorne’s. This was a first for both of them, Clark making friends and being able to tell his mom all about it. She listened intently, a happy smile on her lips as if this was something she had always wanted for her son. The ability to just be treated normally by people, even if they knew what he was. The more he spoke about how great Buffy was the more his mom’s knowing smile grew. He told her he promised Buffy that he would pick her up at the airport, and his mom had agreed to let him use the truck as long as he promised to take her to work before he left. She had a full shift at the diner tomorrow, so he was pretty sure he could make it back in time to pick her up and take her home.

 Later that night, after getting off the phone with Buffy so she could go patrol, Clark had spent the evening on the internet looking up several theories and ideas on the concept of soulmates. All in all, it was pretty simple stuff, a soulmate could be a romantic or platonic relationship with a mirroring of the souls. Where, both their values and ideals deemed them a perfect match. He had even gone to a few sites on the mystical aspects of soulmates that seemed to be pretty legit, and they believed that when it came to soulmates not only were the souls similar, but both souls usually challenge each other to perceive themselves and the world differently. In essence, your soulmate could help you transcend into a higher state of consciousness. All of that seemed to match very much with what he had been feeling since the moment he met her. None of that however, explained how he felt now.

 Buffy had been right the other day when she said it wasn’t just the soulmates thing. He was almost positive the out-of-control lust and the uncontrollable desire to be near her had very little to do with the fact that they were soulmates and everything to do with the prophecy. Something wanted them to consummate their relationship, and he was pretty sure that something had a reason. He wondered if he was in danger of meeting the other woman and somehow changing his mind about her. He definitely couldn’t imagine ever doing that though, not when he felt what he felt, not when she had consumed his thoughts so thoroughly since the day they met.

 He felt physically ill at the idea of ever having to fight Buffy as an enemy, Lorne’s words about killing her making him nauseous and dizzy. The demon said it most likely wouldn’t happen now, but God, what if it did? What if he wasn’t capable of fighting off this mystery enemy of the future. He shuddered at the thought, his anxiety level spiking in worry. He had to get himself under control.

 As the passengers began to exit the terminal Clark looked on, his eyes searching for golden hair and green eyes. When he finally spotted her the tension that had been growing in his limbs immediately eased. It happened so fast he almost felt boneless by the sudden release. Her eyes met his and a similar look of relief washed over her face, but there was something else there. She was scared, which just made the tension begin to build again. Clark frowned in confusion, but didn’t deny her as she ran to him wrapping her arms around his waist tightly as she laid her head on his chest.

 “Are you okay?” He asked.

 She shook her head and closed her eyes. “There’s something wrong,” She whispered. “I shouldn’t be feeling this–”

 “I know,” he whispered. “I feel it too.” Clark shuddered, so it wasn’t only him who was feeling it. “I think it’s time we learn more about this prophecy.”

 He felt her nod. “I’ll call Wes once we get to the safe house.”

 ****<S>**<S>****

 The drive there had been mostly quiet. The only real sound was Buffy’s smartphone giving directions to their destination. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from reaching out and entwining their fingers however, and she smiled at him gratefully before closing her eyes and sighing. They finally arrived at what looked to be an unassuming house just outside of town that rested on a few acres of property. Buffy untangled their fingers and reached into her carryon bag that was between them and pulled out a large multicolored crystal.

 “Here,” she said quietly. “Hold this.”

 Clark, frowned but did as she asked. Watching her as she muttered the word, “Agnoscis.” The stone suddenly warming in his palm as he caught the house in front of him shimmer for a moment out of the corner of his eye.

 “Latin?” He guessed.

 Buffy nodded. “It means recognize. It’s so you can get through the wards.” She bit her lip, “We can also bring your mom here, in case you ever need to hide her you’ll have a place to take her that’s pretty impenetrable.”

 Clark nodded gratefully, his eyes studying the sad expression on her face. He reached out and gently brushing the back of his knuckles down her cheek. Her whole body shivered at the contact, a small gasp escaping her lips.

 “Are you…are you okay,” He asked.

 She shook her head, “I think it’s affecting me more than you.”

 Clark was quiet for a moment, and then he shook his head. “It’s not, I think I’m just a lot better at controlling my impulses.”

 Buffy chuckled humorlessly, “Maybe, that’s something you can teach me sometime.” She met his eyes and Clark lost his breath at the want he saw shining there.

 God, she was beautiful like that. Her eyes almost swirling with color and heat. His temperature immediately skyrocketed, his pants becoming tight. He wanted to ask her if there was anything he could do, but didn’t dare for fear of what her answer might be. She had already told him she wasn’t ready, and if he was being honest with himself, neither was he.

 He swallowed, his heart beating in his chest. “Come on,” he whispered, opening his door and stepping out. “Let’s go make that phone call.”

 He walked around her side of the truck as she fumbled with her seatbelt, opening the passenger door for her and holding out his hand. She took it gratefully as she slid out of the passenger’s side, hoisting her bag over her shoulder after her feet hit the pavement. Clark reached in the truck bed and grabbed the only other bag she’d brought with her. He wondered where her weapons bag was, but remembered she’d just went through an airport and realized she probably couldn’t bring them with her.

 As if she was reading his mind, she said. “Willow was here last night; I had her ward the training equipment so that we can use it without destroying it.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked up the driveway. Her hand fumbling with her keys as they made their way to the door. “I also had her fill the fridge and bring my weapons bag over.”

 He didn’t say anything as he watched her slide the key in the lock and open the door. He followed her through a spacious living room that was tastefully decorated, through another door and into a modern kitchen. She slid her bag off, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. She pulled out her phone next, scrolling through her contacts and hitting send before putting it on speaker. She set the phone on the island between them and walked to the fridge, leaning her back against it as she closed her eyes. 

 Clark wanted to go over and comfort her, but something in his gut told him that would be a very bad idea. She was putting distance between them for a reason and he completely respected that. Her sudden change however, worried him and he was beginning to think maybe she really was suffering more than him.

 "Buffy?" A cultured British male voice answered after the first few rings.

 "Yeah, it’s me." She said quietly.

 "Is everything alright?" He asked, his tone worried.

"No, not really." She answered. "I think it’s time you told us about this prophecy."

 "Buffy, I've already explained–"

 “No,” She cut him off. “No Wes, you don’t get to do this. Not now. Something is wrong with me, I feel…” Her face went red, as she looked at Clark, “I feel like I’m on fire, I…” Her eyes moved to her phone and glared, a growl tearing from her throat in frustration. Her teeth clenched as she ground out. “I feel incredibly sexually frustrated, okay? Like a cat in fucking heat.” Her face went scarlet and she avoided looking directly at Clark. “Want to explain?”

 There was a sudden choking sound on the other line, as a coughing fit proceeded it. “Good Lord, it’s happening already?”

 The outrage in Buffy’s eyes, did something to Clark in that moment and he stepped forward his anger simmering under the surface. “What’s happening?” He demanded.

 “Mr. Kent,” Wesley said in surprise, “I didn’t…I didn’t realize you were on the line as well.” Clark heard the British man sigh, “I’m sorry we were finally introduced this way, I had hoped to meet you in person. I’m sure you already know that I am Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and that I am head of the Watchers Council.” There was a pause, before he continued. “I do apologize for not telling you both sooner, but I had hoped we would have a few more days before the bond started to require a need to be fulfilled.”

 “Bond…what?” Buffy’s face scrunched up in confusion.

 “I don’t really understand it myself,” Wesley admitted. “But it’s written that once the Immortal Slayer and, I believe the correct term is Star God meet, a…I think the term is soulbond will start to form and a compulsion to fulfill it will start to take hold. Now, both Willow and I think we’ve found a way to counteract the compulsion, but I didn’t expect it would start to take hold so quickly. I do apologize Buffy; I had planned to have Willow bring me there tomorrow so I could explain.”

 “What’s a soulbond, exactly?” Clark asked, “And how is it any different than being soulmates?”

 “I honestly don’t know, there are very few references to what it is exactly. I imagine that much like soulmates there must be a similarity or mirroring of souls if you will, but unlike soulmates there is a need…a compulsion for a confluence between the souls. As far as I can tell, once that happens it would act very similarly to a claim.”

 Buffy gasped and looked at Clark, her eyes wide and disbelieving. Clark swallowed, “What’s a claim?”

 “It’s a…a type of marriage between demons, vampires in particular.” Buffy shifted uncomfortably and looked down. “It’s barely ever used now because its unbreakable, not even magic can undo it. It’s ancient and powerful and requires total trust and consent between both parties.” She met his eyes then, an apology shining through but Clark didn’t feel like he needed one, in fact he just felt very confused.

 “That doesn’t make any sense, not after what Lorne told me.” Clark said with a frown. “If this bond is as powerful as you say then…” It was his turn to look at Buffy apologetically, “Then even if I met this other person first, wouldn’t the bond take hold when I met Buffy regardless?”

 “I don’t quite understand what you’re referring to.” Wesley said in confusion.

 Clark looked up at Buffy and saw suspicion in her eyes. “Lorne didn’t tell you?”

 “Lorne doesn’t give me the details of readings Mr. Kent; he treats all his clients very much like a therapist treats a patient.” Wesley said, adding. “The only thing he told me was that you were the one the prophecy spoke of and that you were on the right path in regards to your destiny. What exactly did he tell you?”

 Clark shifted uncomfortably, feeling Buffy’s eyes on him but unable to meet hers. “He said I had two very different futures, that Buffy was my soulmate but I have another as well and in this other future this woman dies and something makes me go bad.” He finally got the courage and looked at Buffy, her eyes were wide and burning with hurt and maybe a bit of jealousy. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, thinking he had ruined everything.

 Buffy shook her head and swallowed, “Did he… did he say what would happen if you met her now?”

 Clark nodded, "He said I'm a one-woman man, that it wouldn't matter."

 She seemed to relax a bit at his words, her eyes softening and darting back to her phone as Wesley began speaking, "Then you are very correct Mr. Kent, if you met Buffy in this other future, it should have activated the soulbond whether you had feelings for this other woman or not. A soulmate is not always a love interest after all." He paused for a moment, "There are only two things that could have stopped it. One would be that you don't meet Buffy until this mystery foe had your mind or if you did meet her, she was already claimed."

 Buffy gasped, and looked at Clark guiltily, “I almost asked him to claim me.”

 A potent wave of jealousy and possession swept through him at her words. If she was referring to Angel, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to control himself much longer. Not when the very idea of her being tied like that with someone else made his blood boil.

 "What?" Wesley said, shocked.

 "Spike, Wes. Not Angel." She clarified. "It was...it was right after we found Alicia. I knew it could make us stronger and I... I thought it might give us an advantage against Angelus. I never had the courage to ask him though."

 “And thank every deity in the universe for that!” Wesley said sharply, “I don’t think you quite understand the repercussions that could have had on not just Clark’s future but your own.” There was a long silence, the only sound was heavy breathing before a much calmer Wesley finally said, “That kind of bond Buffy…think about what you did to Angelus and multiply it by a million. I was there that day you came through the portal after Spike died. You were almost feral; your Slayer was in complete control and she wanted to kill Willow for making her immortal. There was a part of her that already thought of Spike as her mate, and she wanted blood from whoever had wronged her. If you had been claimed and Spike died…” They heard him take a shuddering breath, “You would have burnt the world and then marched into Hell without a second thought in search of him. There would have been no stopping you.”

 Clark watched Buffy shiver at Wes’s words, her eyes getting lost and faraway. His possessiveness grew at her words, but a small part of him couldn’t help but be curious as to what happened between the two of them and why she so rarely spoke about him. The book had only said that the vampire had killed two Slayers, and had tried to kill Buffy on numerous occasions. He had been hampered by some form of neurotechnology by the US Government and began working with her reluctantly. Somewhere along the way he had fallen for Buffy and regained his soul, sacrificing himself for the world once, where he was resurrected by a mystical amulet he was wearing when he died. The author of the book believed he’d been brought back by mistake and the amulet was meant to be worn by Angel, but there was also some speculation that Spike may have been the actual bearer of the Shanshu prophecy. The author however, was highly skeptical about this because Spike didn’t do what he did out of heroics, even with a soul he relished in the violence of his nature. The author believed that becoming mortal would feel more like a punishment than a reward for the vampire. It spoke some about his time at Wolfram and Hart, about his part in the fight against Angelus, and how he died saving Buffy a second time.

 “I don’t…I don’t remember any of that.” She said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. “Even what I did to Angelus, I only remember parts of it. I felt like I was outside my body looking at someone who wasn’t actually me, except I could feel what I was doing.” She shivered, and it took every bit of self-control he had not to go to her, especially when her voice cracked. “When I came to, I-I was covered in blood and…God, Wes there was nothing left but a torso and head. I…” She choked. “I even took his face.”

 When a single tear tracked itself down her cheek, Clark couldn’t take it anymore and he rounded the island and pulled her into his arms, hoping she was too upset to be affected by the embrace, but not really caring if she was, not when he could feel her trembling in his arms. He understood now why she’d been so adamant the other day about her being wrong in the way she killed Angelus and about Slayers not actually being creatures of light but warriors for the light. He could never picture her being capable of such carnage even after hearing it from her own mouth. Then again, he could never picture himself killing her either or anyone else for that matter, not on purpose at least.

 They heard a muffled sniffle over the line, before a choked sounding Wesley finally said, “Oh, Buffy, I never…I never knew it was that bad. We found the warehouse and the blood, so I did realize…but…not to what extent, and then you just disappeared and Willow couldn’t ever get a read on you. It was like you were blocking her somehow. Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

 Clark felt her shake her head, “I was ashamed.” She answered honestly. “Lorne’s the only one who knows everything, even the stuff I can’t remember.”

 “Do you remember anything that happened before you captured Angelus?” Wesley asked cautiously. “I’ve always wondered how you did it, but was always too afraid to ask after the way we…the way we found you.”

 Buffy sighed against Clark’s chest, her shivering increasing. “I think I let myself be caught,” she said quietly. “The only thing I really remember is being bound magically by Amy and then Warren tearing open my shirt.” Clark stiffened at her words, his whole body going rigid. She squeezed her eyes shut, her grip on him tightening. “Angelus threw him out of the way, and said everyone would have a turn, but he got to have me first.” Clark’s anger flared at her words, his fist tightening behind her back, he had to squeeze his eyes shut at the sudden heat he felt building. “I-I don’t know how, but somehow I was able to break through the magic that was binding me. Everything’s kind of a blur after that, but I think…” She frowned, her forehead crinkling in confusion. “I think none of the spells were working on me. I think…I think I killed everyone.”

 Clark found himself sighing in relief at her words. God, just the image of someone trying to do that to her made him see red. Literally, in fact. He really hoped that something like that has never happened before, because he could already tell he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from tearing whomever did it to shreds. As horrendous of a way she killed Angelus, he couldn’t judge her for how she did it, not after hearing that. God, if she hadn’t been able to break the magic… He felt himself shudder.  

 Wesley was quiet for a long time, “I’ve always known that Willow brought you back stronger, but being able to break a binding spell with sheer force of will is extraordinary Buffy. We should have started testing this advantage years ago.”

 “I try not to think about that day, Wes.” She huffed. “I don’t think the magic going wonky even occurred to me until this moment.” She was quiet for a few moments, before she finally said, "So what happens if I bond with Clark and I lose him too?"

 Wesley sighed, "Well, I'm hoping since it’s your souls that are bonding and not your Slayer, that it will make quite a difference."

 "You're hoping? That’s really not a guarantee, Wes." She said in annoyance, stepping out of Clark's embrace and leaning on the island. "And what’s to stop my Slayer from trying to initiate a claim? What if this soulbond thing isn't good enough for her? Lorne already said she's been looking for her mate since I was called. He said that's why I was so drawn to both Spike and Angel." She shook her head, "Well, according to this prophecy he's my mate, right? Or the closest she'll ever get to one. So, what's to stop her from doing what she's been wanting to do for years? I mean I looked up claiming in high school, Wes. As soon as I read the word, I was fascinated."

 Clark stepped around the table so he could look at her. She seemed worried and deep in thought before her eyes met his and they softened immediately, a small smile forming on her lips as she studied him.

 Then they heard Wesley sigh, "I honestly don't know. We've still not even translated the whole thing and we've been working on it for over a year."

 Clark watched Buffy frown in confusion. "Is there a reason you haven't gotten Dawn in on this?"

 "I'll give you three guesses as to why." He said sarcastically.

 Buffy snorted, saying mockingly, "Aww Wes, you're not afraid of my baby sister, are you?"

 There was silence on the other end of the line and then a grumbled, "I would rather face all the demons in hell than deal with Dawn on a tirade about you."

 She chuckled and shook her head. "Well tough, because I want her in on this."

.

"But Buffy–” He started to whine.

 “No Wes,” she said cutting him off.  “I love both you and Willow, you know that. But, if there’s anyone in this world who will have our best interests at heart and give it to us straight, it’s her. I want her in on this.”

 “Fine,” He groaned.

 Then a smile broke across her lips and an evil look of mischief Clark was slowly becoming familiar with sparked in her eyes. “Plus, she already knows I spent time with Clark the other day and she knows he’s something other.”

 “How on Earth did she find out about that?” Wesley said in surprise.

 Clark smirked as Buffy’s smile grew. “I may have pissed Faith off by waking her and Gunn up with a cold shower. She ratted us out.”

 There was silence on the other line, but she swore she could hear him shaking his head. “Do I even want to know?”

 “Probably not.” She said chuckling and then sighed. “I’m feeling a little better now, I mean as far as the compulsion stuff goes.”

 “Hmm,” Wesley hummed. “Perhaps it gets worse when you’re apart. I knew that you would feel a need to be around each other, but perhaps being away from one another has an even greater affect than I imagined. How about you Mr. Kent, how do you feel?”

 Clark blinked in surprise. Now that Buffy mentioned it, he was feeling less uncomfortable than he had all morning. “Better, actually. It’s still there, but not as potent.”

 “Then perhaps the theory is a sound one,” Wesley said. “However, to be on the safe side I’ll have Willow drop off the pendants she’s making this evening. They should be able to subdue most of the compulsion until you both feel ready to move forward with the bond. I would also recommend spending as little time apart as possible. I believe that the pendants are powerful enough to ward off the worst of it, however if this bond is as powerful as I think it is you very well might override the magics if the compulsion becomes too powerful.” He sighed, “I suggest staying there with Buffy for the time being Mr. Kent.”

 Clark shook his head “That not going to work Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. I need to help out on the farm. While I was away my mom got behind on the payments and if we don’t bring in a decent crop this year my mom could lose it.” He looked at Buffy nervously. “You could stay with us though; we have a guest bedroom.”

 Buffy nodded, “Yeah, yeah, that might be a good idea. I can help you with anything you need, and we can start your training in the afternoons.”

 Wesley cleared his throat, getting both their attention. “I think you’re forgetting the contract, Buffy. He may very well not need to worry about that any longer.”

 Buffy’s eyes widened, “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. I’ll be right back.”

 Clark watched her run out of the room as Wesley said, “Are you still there Mr. Kent?”

 Clark looked at the phone, “Yes.”

 “Good, I thought I’d go over the numbers for you and see if they’re satisfactory.” Wesley said. “I had thought of paying you as we would a hired mercenary or demon hunter, however since your role in the future will be pivotal to keeping this world intact, I decided you deserved what we would pay any Slayer, it’s only fair after all.”

 “What aren’t you telling us about this prophecy?” Clark said, Wesley’s words telling him the man knew more than was saying.

 He heard the man sigh, “I would prefer not to say at this moment. I already know how Buffy will feel about it, and I believe you both have enough on your plate with the bonding. I’ll tell you both, but she’s not ready to hear it yet.”

 Clark frowned, “I don’t think you give her enough credit.”

 “You may be correct,” Wesley conceded, “But I know she will not be happy about this, even if it’s a good thing. I, at the very least need to prepare myself for Dawn finding out, and she may very well tell Buffy even if I ask her not too. I do not believe either of you have long to wait.”

 “Alright,” Clark said, “I’m going to hold you to that though.”

 “Now,” Wesley said, just as Buffy walked back in the room. “How does two hundred-thousand a year sound?

 Clark blinked in surprise, the blood rushing to his head. He couldn’t have possibly heard that right, could he? “I’m sorry did you…did you just say two hundred-thousand?”

 “Clark are you okay?” Buffy asked, running to his side. “You look a little pale.”

 He shook his head, “It’s…that’s too much.”

 “No,” Buffy disagreed, shaking her head. “It really isn’t. Entering this world Clark… you’ll be putting not only your home but your mom at risk and no amount of money will ever make up for that.” She bit her lip and nodded, “Trust me on this, most demons aren’t stupid enough to mess with the good guy’s families, but the real big-bads, the uber-powerful demons, who’s only goal is destruction and world domination? Those demons won’t care, they’ll do everything in their power to try and hurt you, even if that means trying to break you.” She sighed, “It’s why I want your mom to have access to this place too. It will make me feel better knowing you can get her to safety if you needed to.”

 Clark sighed, reaching out and sliding the small stack of paper out of her hand. “And what happens if I sign these and change my mind?”

 Wesley spoke up, “You are not beholden to anything Mr. Kent, if you sign those and decide that helping the Watchers Council is not in your best interest, it would simply be like you quitting a job. You wouldn’t be paid anymore of course, but you would not be obligated to continue helping us either. However, with the bond beginning to form I’m not sure how you would be able to distance yourself from the Council or Buffy, but if you made that decision no one would stand in your way.”

 Clark pulled out a chair and sat down, his eyes quickly reading it through. It was pretty standard stuff, nothing in it that had some sort of hidden agenda. He flipped the page and read through the rest before getting to the signature line.

 “Do you have a pen?” He asked, looking at Buffy.

 She went to a small drawer and pulled it open, grabbing one from inside and handing it over. Clark took the pen signing his name on the dotted line. “Okay Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, I signed it.”

 “Very good.” Wesley said, “Now, I don’t suppose you’re up for giving him a tour of the underground facilities?”

 “Of course.” Buffy said.

 “Very well,” he said. “I’ll call you before Willow leaves, in the meantime try and keep your wits about you.”

 The line disconnected and Clark raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “Underground facility?”

 ****<S>**<S>****

Buffy slid open the hidden panel in the wall of the master bedroom. She entered a number into the keypad and then looked up into a camera where it scanned her face, and slid her keycard into the slot. 

 The computer’s AI came online and a female voice said, "Good afternoon Miss Summers, what can I do for you this afternoon?"

 "I need to give a new recruit security clearance."

 "Name?" The computer asked, as Buffy removed her keycard and slid in the blank one Willow had left for them.

 Buffy nodded at Clark and stepped away from the panel so he could stand in front of it.

 "Clark Joseph Kent," he answered, stepping into the space Buffy had just vacated.

 "Facial recognition." The computer said, and Buffy pointed up to the camera, indicating he needed to look into it. 

 Once that was done the computer said, "Four-digit pin."

 Buffy looked at Clark and nodded, "Now choose four numbers you'll remember easily."

 She watched as he thought about it a second before he put in his code. Once that was finished the computer said, "Thank you Mr. Kent, you now have full access to the Watcher Archives as well as all facilities. Ms. Summers would you like access into the rest of the building?"

 "Yes," Buffy answered before the hidden wall shifted, sliding away and revealing the steel doors of an elevator that would take them down into the heart of the house. The doors slid open and Buffy removed the new keycard handing it to Clark as they stepped into the elevator, Buffy pressing the simple down-arrow button.

 “We had these built in all the safehouses after what happened with Angelus.” Buffy said as way of explanation. “Or I should say, Wes and Willow did. I wasn’t really around for that.”

 It didn’t take long for the elevator to reach its destination and the doors slid open. She could feel Clark’s eyes on her as she stepped out of the elevator and into the large steel control room. There were several monitors on the walls with keyboards on a stainless steel counter top that bolted into the walls along half the room.

 “This is the control room.” Buffy said, “For safety reasons, if we’re ever in any code-red type situation, this room is always occupied in case someone manages to get past the outer wards. We can house up to thirty bodies here at a time and since most of us are a little something-other, we can at least hold off whoever’s broken in to give the rest of us a fighting chance to escape by sounding the alarm.”

 She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t look at him right then. It was just occurring to her all that she admitted to Wesley and what she’d said in front of Clark. He was going to ask about Spike, she could almost feel it. Of all the things Wesley could have brought up, it had to be claiming. She felt Clark move closer, and wasn’t surprised when she felt him place his hand on her shoulder as she rambled on about where the exits were located.

 “Buffy?” He whispered.

 She sighed and looked down, “Yeah?”

 “Why…why don’t you ever talk about him?” Clark asked.

 Her shoulders slumped at his words, but she still couldn’t bring herself to turn around and look at him. “It’s…it’s complicated.”

 “Well then, I think you should try to uncomplicate it for me, because this thing sounds pretty permanent between us and I need to know if I’m going to be living in another man’s shadow.” He said honestly.

 She spun around, her eyes meeting his in surprise. “God, no. It’s not like that at all. We were…” She sighed. “Maybe we should go into another room that’s more comfortable. This is a long story.”

 Clark nodded at her and she turned, leading him through the heavy metal door to their left and down a hallway the AI illuminating the rooms as it monitored their approach. Buffy led him into a large rec room, a massive tv mounted to one wall with a standard sized couch in front. There was a card table in a corner and a pool table in another. A few pinball machines lined one wall of the room and a dartboard hung near a foosball table. She led him over to the couch, gesturing for him to sit before she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She waited for him to sit down first, and sat at the other end biting her lip in thought, staring straight ahead into the black void of the blank tv screen, not sure exactly where to start. She figured the beginning was probably best, so she started there.

 “When I met Spike,” she said slowly. “He was just about as evil as they come, or at least that’s what my sixteen-year-old-self thought. Though, I hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Angelus yet, so I was a bit naive in that department. Anyway, his girlfriend-slash-sire had been weakened in Prague at some point and he came to Sunnydale to try and restore her and bag himself another Slayer.” She shrugged, “So, we pretty much started out as mortal enemies. We fought each other a lot that first half of the year, and he was a hell of a fighter. He almost got me on that first one, but incredibly enough my mom was the one who saved the day.” Buffy smiled in amusement. “Clocked him on the back of the head with an axe.”

 Clark snorted in amusement. “Sounds like something my mom would do.”

 Buffy smiled, “Yeah my mom could be pretty tough.” She shrugged, “Anyway, I ended up putting him in a wheelchair after dropping an organ on him during a spell that actually did end up restoring Drucilla. On my birthday I found out they were both still alive and Dru was reassembling an ancient demon called the Judge who couldn’t be killed by any man-made weapon. Me and Angel tried to stop it from happening, but we were both too late. That night I made the colossal decision of losing my virginity to Angel.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and sighed, “And just like that his soul was gone. Maybe that’s why I clung on to the notion that we were somehow destined for so long. I mean, the breaking of Angel’s curse literally states that only a moment of perfect happiness could release the soul. I guess I thought that if our love was enough to drive his soul away, it must be special.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “Honestly, knowing Angel it had more to do with him somehow feeling redeemed in me or it very well could have been that he hadn’t dipped his wick in over a hundred years. Whatever the cause, so began several horrible months of mental torment from a demon wearing my lover’s face.”

 “And Spike?” Clark asked.

 Buffy sighed, “Spike went through his own torment at the hands of Angelus and Drusilla. Spike really did love her, but her love compared to his was fleeting at best. He told me once how they would mock him for being wheelchair bound and Angelus would…well, he would fuck Dru right in front of Spike because he knew how much it hurt him. I think that’s when whatever destiny Spike had must have started. He came to me and made a truce in the hopes of getting Angelus away from Dru and also according to him, he actually liked the world and didn’t want to see it destroyed like they were planning.” She sighed again, “Anyway, that’s probably the first instance where I started to see Spike in a somewhat different light. Less of a danger and more of a nuisance if that makes sense.”

 “Yeah,” Clark nodded. “I guess I could see that.”

 “Okay, so skip ahead a few years, when I’m in my first year of college. I’ve seen Spike once in that time when he kidnapped Willow and Xander, trying to make Willow preform a love spell to get Dru back. Apparently, our little truce didn’t sit well with her and she dumped him.” Buffy shrugged, “We had one more real fight where we were actually trying to kill each other that year, and then a few months later the Initiative planted the chip in his head and then once again he came to us for asylum.” A small smile tugged at her lips, “We fought like cats and dogs that whole year. I think our bickering is partly what drove Giles to drinking so much. Then sometime during the next year when Dawn arrived and my mom got sick, he realized he was in love with me.” Buffy sighed. “It wasn’t a healthy love though, not even a little bit. He was obsessed with me. He had a weird shrine to me and he had, the super nerd Warren make a lifelike robot of me for reasons I’m sure you can guess.”

 Clark grimaced before saying, “Is that the same Warren that–”

 “The one and the same.” She interrupted. “I’ve dealt with some pretty gross demons before, but as far as Warren goes, he’s probably the worst human I’ve ever had to deal with.” Buffy sighed, “Anyway, as weird as Spike’s obsession with me was, he did some things that year that really surprised me. Things that normal vampires wouldn’t do, though I still to this day haven’t decided if Spike was the unique one or if Angelus was, because I know for a fact Spike isn’t the first vampire to keep a portion of his humanity after being turned.” She shook her head getting back on topic, “Anyway, he protected my sister’s secret when Glory tortured him for information and he promised to protect Dawn until the end of the world. When I came back the next year, I didn’t really acknowledge it at the time, but he was still there. Still looking out for my baby sister. It’s strange how you don’t see those things when they happen, but Spike loved Dawn like a little sister and he loved my mom too. For some reason he was drawn to us Summers women.” She sighed and looked at Clark. “I already told you when I came back, I went to a dark place.”

 Clark nodded, his eyes studying her face. “You have.”

 “I went to that dark place with Spike, I didn’t… when I came back, I was numb and I didn’t know it at the time, but my Slayer had gotten stronger. Part of me hated my friends, I was furious with them for bringing me back and expecting me to be happy about it.” She swallowed, “Spike became my confidant at first, he became my quiet solace. I could sit with him and just be… he didn’t…he didn’t expect me to just be okay like everyone else. I was the one who made the first move…we were under a spell at the time but that didn’t stop me from making a second move after it was broken. One night not long after our second make out session, after my Watcher decided I needed to learn to do things on my own and left, we got into an argument about the kiss and I hit him,” she frowned bitterly, rolling her eyes. “He retaliated and must have realized his chip didn’t fire. The next day, well he started a real fight with me. The first one we had since…well since our brawl before the chip.” Buffy could feel her cheeks heat up at the memory, “It was the first time I felt alive since my resurrection and one thing led to another and we…well we weren’t fighting anymore. At least not with fists. It was the first time I didn’t have to hold back and it was exhilarating.” She looked at her hands, “And the next day I told him how disgusting we were, and I was cruel and awful to him.” She shook her head. “I’m not saying that he didn’t give as good as he got, but I was always the one saying the cruel stuff first. I was awful to him Clark; I beat him once and left him for the sunrise. He was trying to help me…well, I thought I accidentally killed someone.” She pursed her lips, even the memory of Warren now days could send her into a rage. “I hadn’t, Warren once again was trying to fuck with my life, but both of us thought I did. He didn’t understand why I had to turn myself in, how much even thought of hurting someone innocent was killing me. I…I just snapped. I honestly don’t know how he managed to make it to safety on time.”

 She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt Clark’s arms come around her. “He still had bruises a week later and vampires, they heal fast.” She sniffled. “Shortly after that my ex-Riley came to town and somewhat reminded me why being with a soulless vampire was a bad thing. I realized that what we were doing…we had to stop. I was using him and it wasn’t fair to either of us, so I broke things off.” Buffy shook her head, “It was hard, because I really did still want him, but I resisted. Some things happened, over the next month or two, my friends ended up finding out about us and one night, he showed up at my house. I was pretty banged up from a fight earlier that evening and he tried to…I’m not even sure he knew what he was doing…but he tried to rape me.” Buffy said quietly, she felt Clark’s arms stiffen around her, this was the judgment she’d been waiting for. “I kicked him off, and he was shocked at himself and then I said, ask me again how I could ever love you?”

 She looked at Clark then, and she could see the anger swirling in his blue eyes. “That’s why Spike got his soul. He thought it was the only way he could be sure never to hurt me again. He wanted to be the man I deserved. He did it for selfish reasons of course, but the outcome of those reasons? It was worth it in the end, because he’s the reason we don’t still have a Hellmouth in Sunnydale California.”

 Clark shook his head, “I don’t…how can you have feelings for someone after they…even if he didn’t, how could you have not wanted to kill him?”

 Buffy shook her head. “Because love isn’t rational, because it can be beautiful or a nightmare, and unfortunately feelings can’t just be flipped on and off. I think if he hadn’t gotten his soul, I would have felt differently, and maybe I eventually would have stopped caring about him. You have to understand though…what he did, it’s never been done before. He fought against his nature and became something incredible for it. I think I would be kinda a hypocrite if I could forgive and still love Angel for what he did to me without a soul, but couldn’t forgive and still have feelings for Spike.”

 “Your ability to forgive, Buffy…I think you might have me beat in that department.” Clark said.

 She shook her head, “I don’t necessarily think that’s true. I don’t think I can ever truly forgive Willow for bringing me back, and you now know what I did to Angelus.” She sighed. “I really do think it depends on the transgression. Willow tore me out of Heaven, she made me immortal, denying me the peace and reward that all Slayers crave. Angelus went after people I love and he tormented and killed my sister Slayers, all of which were young girls, newly called. I know what Wes said, and part of its true, but Spike was just the catalyst, he was not necessarily the cause. It was my hate, my emotions guiding my Slayer, and it wasn’t the first time that part of me wanted to kill Willow nor was it only her that wanted to destroy Angelus for what he had done.”

  “And the claim?” Clark asked.

 Buffy sighed, “It was something that was swirling around my head for a while, and at first it was absolutely a hundred percent my Slayer. But by the time I started seriously considering it, that was definitely all me.”

 Clark looked away, “You wanted to bind yourself to him for eternity.”

 She was silent at his words; she knew what he was thinking and he was wrong. She remembered very clearly why she wanted to do it. “It…I really did want to win, Clark. I know you’re thinking I must have been head over heels in love, but… I loved Spike, I did and I still do, but not…It was the type of love you hold for your best friend, for the person who gets you more than anyone else. I’m not saying it wasn’t romantic in nature either, but it was a love that formed over time. There was no cupid moment. I knew we were compatible sexually; I knew he would never leave me, and I knew it would make us stronger. Claims, they don’t even require love to be fulfilled, just a mutual respect for one another and I knew we could make it work.”

 Clark sighed, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “Why didn’t you then?”

 “Fear,” Buffy said simply. “Fear of the unknown, fear that he would say no, and fear that he would say yes.”

 She watched Clark swallow. “And you want to do the same to me?”

 Buffy blushed. “I-I don’t know. Yes, I think so…” She was silent for a moment. Did she want to claim Clark? Her Slayer seemed to think so, but was that the prophecy or an actual want. She certainly didn’t want to lead him on, so she said “But I think it’s something that could happen in the heat of the moment.” She could literally feel her face heating up even more. “Just, if…if I ever bite you when we…and say ‘Mine’, don’t answer unless you’re willing to do the same.”

 “I’m assuming when you say bite, you mean breaking skin.” He said raising an eyebrow.

 “I do.” She admitted. “That’s basically what a claim is, it’s a symbolic ritual of sharing one’s life force, blood, saliva, semen. The mixing of your essence with another to create two halves of a whole.”

 A slow amused smile broke across his lips. “That actually sounds kind of beautiful, if not a little messy.”

 Buffy snorted, her own amusement growing at his analogy. “Anything else you want to know, before we continue our tour?”

 His eyes slowly gave her a once over, before he shook his head. “No, I think that was more than enough for today.” He looked down, “It’s hard for me to picture you like that, being cruel I mean. Not when…not when you’ve been so nice to me. I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand anything you told me about him and you, and…and if I’m being honest, I can’t help feeling…” He looked at her seriously, his mouth set in a firm line. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t come back from the dead again, because I can’t promise I will be very nice.”

 She found herself giggling at the visual. Dear God, that would be funny, especially with how quiet and reserved Clark was. Spike would drive him up the wall. “Oh, trust me neither will he, even with the soul he had the ability to drive just about anyone mad with rage.”

 “Well, then it’s probably a good thing he’s not around anymore. I don’t think I’d like to be responsible for killing someone you cared about.” Clark said seriously.

 Buffy rolled her eyes; he might be from another planet but he was definitely a hundred percent male. “Yes, Clark, lucky for you, you only have one of my ex’s left to contend with and he’s married.” She pushed herself away from him, grabbing his hand as she did and pulling him to his feet as she stood. “Now, come on, I’ll show you the training room.”

[readerficsbyhyaku]

On the verge of broken dreams (Hop x Reader) Part 3

author’s note

I felt i couldn't just skip such an important part of the story, but to be honest it is boring to just retell what the game does better. So you can skip this chapter if you want, next one should be a tiny bit more interesting.

The night following your ascension to the rank of champion was restless. You flopped around in the bed at your hotel, the faint clamour of a crowd beneath your windows and flashing memories coming to your mind against your own will. You still couldn’t believe that you had won, and the match you had lead against Leon played again and again in your head. The ex-champion’s face melded with the one of his brother as you couldn’t help but recall when you beat Hop too, and guilt made your stomach churn. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, so the memories came flooding back, your brain going into overdrive, unable to process all that took place. Sometimes, the flow of memories would ebb and would show you less torturing yet still infuriating or scary moments, like when you went to face Eternatus or when you had to battle Chairman Rose.

It took a long time for your body to really unwind and when it finally complied, you fell asleep to the comforting memory of Hop telling you everything was going to be okay, quelling the guilt from before.

The next few days were spent with Leon and some other gym staff to make official your status as a champion. You had a lot of papers to sign, as well as planned photoshoots for all the merch you were to be put onto like posters, cards, mugs, shirts and whatnots. A stylist came all the way from Sinnoh to create your champion outfit and you already had about a dozen of appointments made with someone that would help you build your brand as a champion. And that was without taking into account exposition matches with the gym leaders, interviews, and any of your other duties.

It had been a good week before you could take a bit of time to get back to the Slumbering Weald, to return the artefact you had borrowed. To your surprise, Hop was already there, staring at the shiny waters beyond the altar. When you called him out, he jumped a bit then turned around to face you, looking a bit wooloo-ish.

“Oh, didn’t hear you coming ! You’re here to give back the rusted sword and shield, right ?” he beamed.

“Yeah, didn’t get the time before today. So much to do as a champion…” you started “But it’s really fun, don’t worry !”

You walked up to the tombstone-like monument and, retrieving the artefact from your bag, you set it down neatly in its place. You didn’t know if the Pokémon would be able to hear you, but you also muttered a thank you imbued with all the gratitude you could muster. Without them, you wouldn’t have been able to beat Eternatus.

Hop did the same and for a moment, everything felt in its place, in a serene closure kind of way. But fate had other plans for you as you heard heavy footsteps behind you. Before any of you could act, two men in assorted blue and red suits had walked past you and grabbed the items you had just returned.

“What the- !” exclaimed Hop

“Hey, give them back !” you added as well.

But the two extravagant men started talking to each other as if you weren’t even there. They were mocking you in the most despicable way, flattering their own swollen and misplaced ego. You began feeling very, very angry. Your rage was boiling over as you almost screamed

“Hey, you weirdos ! I’m the champion so you better give back the things you stole right now !”

To which said weirdos answered

“The champion ?” said the blue one with apparent disdain.

“Girl, we are royalty !” retorted the red one with a haughty look.

Baffled by the lack of consideration of these people, you were stuck in place, unable to act upon your anger, feeling utterly helpless in the face of injustice. But finally, the two offenders decided to prove their superiority by battling you, which you gladly agreed. Even from their Pokéballs, your Pokémon had sensed what was going on and were more than ready to fight.

“Bring it on !” you snarled as you readied two Pokéballs, your heavy cape swooshing from your dramatic movements.

But you hadn’t expected Hop to butt in and release his own Pokémon to battle one of your opponents.

“What are you doing ?” you asked him, only for him to answer without even looking at you, brows furrowed

“I’ll take this one, you beat the other”

Arceus-dammit, Hop ! You didn’t know what Sordward and Shielbert were able to do in terms of battling, but you were pretty certain you could take them on. Daring another glance at Hop, you couldn’t help but think he might not handle this fight. It was not a hard fight, but the Pokémon were well trained. Beneath all the layers of ego and confidence of the two supposedly-royals laid a certain amount of skill, that no misestimation of your own power could belittle.

While you emerged victorious, Hop was looking desperately gloomy. Your opponents refused to give back the relics anyways and strode off while you barely contained your Pokémon from running after them and beating them in the literal sense.

“Why did you do this, Hop ?” you asked quietly, pressing a hand onto your friend’s shoulder to make him face you. “I could’ve managed them both myself”

Hop stayed still for a bit, before turning back to you.

“I guess it’s my turn to apologize, isn’t it ? I’m sorry… I wanted to prove myself worthy but I didn’t manage anything at all. What a fuck up”

You hated seeing him like this.

“Hey, look, even if I beat him he didn’t give it back, so we’re at the same level right now. Don’t overthink it. I’m pretty sure they didn’t even train these Pokémon themselves”

You gently pat Hop on the back, trying your best to comfort him.

At this moment, Sonia came in running, panting, her white lab coat fluttering behind her.

“There you are !! There were readings about high dynamax energy around here, thought you might know what caused them” she said after regaining her composure a bit.

Quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at her, you prompted her to explain what she was talking about. Figures out, she has placed tons of power spot detectors around Galar that could tell her where a Pokémon would dynamax. However, there was no dynamax point in the Slumbering Weald.

Slightly annoyed, you began musing what could have caused the detector to spike up, when Hop interrupted your train of thought.

“Could it be… those two guys ???”

You quickly explained what had just happened to Sonia. She nodded in understanding and said

“Well, if that’s true, it’s possible to track those weirdos with the power spot detectors. Let me setup your Rotom phone so that your map can access my data.”

So you handed her your phone, and a few moments later she gave it back to you.

“Here, now you should be able to see where dynamax energy gathers and where it exceeds normal readings.”

You booted up the app and browsed around the map. Sonia was looking at it next to you and when Turffield came into view, she gasped.

“Right here ! High dynamax readings are common for stadiums, but you can see it’s way past the values recorded during the past few weeks. I have a hunch the guys you’re looking for are in Turffield right now.”

So you thanked her and hopped into a Corviknight cab with your partner, heading as fast as possible for Milo’s gym.

[kcwcommentary]

VLD3x01 – “Changing of the Guard”

3x01 – “Changing of the Guard”

Keith and Red are searching through the debris of the season two finale fight, looking for Shiro’s body. So that makes me ask a couple of questions that the show never answers: What happened to Shiro’s body, and how exactly did he die? Zarkon survived. The other Paladins survived. Why did Shiro, specifically, not survive? And not just why did he die while others as nearby and as involved in the fight as he was didn’t die, but what happened to make his death result in his body’s disappearance? This is a mystery that the show has set up that it never explains. Sure, the missing body creates narrative space for the fakery of the return/clone plotline, but it doesn’t explain what happened to Shiro’s body. And it doesn’t explain why only Shiro and no one else was affected in this way. I can’t help but feel that the EPs and writers of the show just didn’t care enough to think they needed to bother answering these questions. 

Allura is preparing for a diplomatic meeting with some species that recently declared independence. Allura specifically states that they “just freed these planets,” but we’ve only ever seen Voltron free the Balmerans and the Olkari. The rest of Voltron’s fight has been directly at Zarkon. I guess she’s thinking Zarkon’s dead and thus everyone’s free from the Empire just because one person’s dead? Or are we supposed to assume that Voltron’s now spent a lot of time offscreen fighting to free some planets? The episode opening with Keith’s search for Shiro suggests a much shorter timeframe than would be needed for additional, large scale assaults. But the next scene of Lance, Hunk, and the Blade of Marmora attacking some Galra forces on Puig suggest they’ve spent time fighting elsewhere. It would be nice if the show was clearer about this.

The banter of Lance and Hunk during the fight is jarring. Would they really be so happy-in-battle with their last battle having resulted in the death of their supposed friend, Shiro? They are way too damn casual. Lance is excited about a parade, takes selfies, and flirts with girls. The people of this planet were just saved in huge part due to the Blades, but of course the show has those people glare at Kolivan as if the Blades didn’t just risk their lives for these people. Hunk says that the Galra Empire looks like it’s just falling apart; this is such simplistic writing to put in any character’s dialog. A universe-spanning oppressive force like the Galra Empire would not fall apart just because Zarkon’s dead (of course we know he’s not actually dead). Thinking that it would fall apart is to think that the legions of Galra who fight for and believe in the Empire don’t have their own minds. It’s nice that Lance sticks up for the Blades when the Puigians are dismissive of them; I didn’t expect that of him.

Pidge is busy trying to learn more from the surveillance clip she got of her brother. Coran calls her “Number 5” again, which is sweet. I like the idea of these two being friends. Coran brags about having once been a bit of an “intergalactic fashion pirate,” and given the current mustache he has, I would believe it even if the show didn’t show him imagining his past cape.

Everyone’s sitting around, talking proudly of their successes, Lance is boasting and bragging in his normal obnoxious way, Hunk’s worried about how they can’t form Voltron now and that people, like the Puigians, want to see it. No one is mourning or grieving the loss of Shiro except for Keith. This infuriates me. I’m supposed to believe that this is a show about friendship and and found family? Keith is the only character who actually cares about Shiro.

“It maybe difficult for us all to accept, but it is time to think about finding a new pilot for the Black Lion,” Allura says. Is it? Is it really time? How much time has passed? The show doesn’t answer this, so we have no way to properly contextualize her comment. This episode opened with Keith still trying to find Shiro’s body, which suggests it’s not been long. I have to assume the show itself has no idea how much time has passed.

“Shiro is the one person who never gave up on me. I won’t give up on him,” Keith declares. As someone for whom loyalty is a big deal, I love Keith’s display of it here.

Meanwhile, Haggar is covering up that Zarkon is unconscious and incapacitated to the rest of the Galra. She’s pretending that Zarkon has requested Lotor take command of the Empire. We get our first glimpse of Ezor, who I think is one of the most ridiculous looking aliens this show ever designed. She looks like she’s got a giant sock hanging off her head. She can also turn invisible. Invisibility is a logistical and tactical big deal. If she’s accomplishing it technologically, then I need it explained why more people don’t use such technology, especially since this story is so war-focused. If it’s a biological ability due to her species, then that would give her species a significant advantage during the war too, so I would expect the larger-scale use as part of the war effort to at least be addressed by the show. I don’t remember it ever doing so though, just like the cloaking technology of the Green Lion never being added to the other Lions, I only remember Ezor’s invisibility being exclusively hers.

Representatives of five new species meet with Allura, the Paladins, and Kolivan during a diplomatic dinner. Hunk has cooked for the dinner, and I’m glad to see his connection to food is being used for a reasonable purpose and not as a fat joke. Kolivan presents some data about the current state of the Galra Empire, pointing out that there is now an increase in open rebellion against the Galra. The diplomats push the issue about wanting to see Voltron. Keith snaps at them. I’m not a fan of how dumbed-down the diplomats are, and this is a reoccurring thing with species outside of Voltron/Alteans/Galra in this show. They so often are presented as if they’re helpless and sitting around waiting to be saved. I just don’t buy the idea that no one has been fighting back until Voltron shows up to do all the heavy lifting

Keith yells again, “Tell them to stand up and fight for themselves.” He’s not wrong.

At the Galra gladiatorial arena, two Galra complain to one another about Lotor. We’re given an exposition-introduction to the character. Until now, Lotor’s been exiled. He’s known to fight alongside his lower ranking soldiers, which offends these two Galra because they apparently think a leader should pompously stand around, aloof from those sent to do the fighting. His chosen generals aren’t “pure Galra. They’re half-breeds at best.” The Galra have been shown to have a significant amount of polymorphism in their species already, so I don’t know what the show considers “pure Galra” to even have Throk complaining about the lack of it in Lotor’s generals. Lotor lets planets he conquers “continue to rule themselves.” At the end of season six, the show turned Lotor into just another maniacal, cackling, cliché villain. But here, in his introduction, it sounds more like he’s being set up to become another protagonist for the show. This exposition just spent a lot of time describing Lotor as having really good qualities.

Throk drops the idea that he’s considering challenging for the throne of the Galra Empire.

And then, they turn their attention to the fight in the arena. The “little fellow” fighting is one they’ve never seen before. Surprise, it’s Lotor. He pulls off his helmet, and out falls a lot of long hair. It would have taken a lot of effort to get all that hair up in that helmet. I wonder how many people responsible for his design and animation have ever had to deal with having long hair. Lotor reveals he’s aware that Throk wants to challenge for the crown, and he calls Throk on it right there in front of everyone. Lotor emphasizes Galra traditionalism of honorable combat. It gets many in the crowd on his side.

Lotor’s four generals reveal themselves. I really like that they’re all female. I still think Ezor looks absolutely ridiculous. Zethrid defies stereotypes of femininity, which is cool. Narti, with her mask and cat, clearly has something intriguing going on. Axca looks the most normal, just blue, and thus is the most visually uninteresting of the four (I’m open to having my mind changed during this rewatch, but I generally think of Axca as the most uninteresting of the four generals in every way).

Throk accepts the challenge and enters the arena. Lotor says Throk has “flawless technique,” but the animation makes Throk look more like he’s flailing and using a lot of energy in wild swings. He looks like he’s trying to brute force his way through the fight, rather than use technique. I don’t know if this is a lack of the animation matching the script, or if this is Lotor sarcastically taunting Throk. “In the end, your own aggression is your undoing,” Lotor says. The show is really doing a lot right up front here to make viewers interested in and side with Lotor.

“My father built our Empire on the bones of his enemies, but the time has come to change the old ways and inspire not fear from those we rule, but loyalty,” Lotor says in his speech. Throk, defeated, pledges loyalty to Lotor as does most, if not all, of the audience. Afterward, Lotor says to his generals, “The masses are easily manipulated.” His capacity for scheming is clear. A lot of Lotor’s character throughout the series seems like he’s someone who’s trying to change a longstanding culture from the inside. His introduction certainly complicates the Galra and the conflict of the show.

Keith stands looking at the Black Lion, everyone else is a little back behind him. Eventually Lance goes over to talk to him. He says that they all miss Shiro, but none of them have acted like it. Except for Keith, they’ve all done nothing in this episode to even suggest they care about having lost a friend. And the way they describe Shiro, they haven’t. Lance describes Shiro as a role model. Pidge literally says Shiro’s a “legend.” Hunk reduces Shiro to a piloting instructor. None of them say anything to suggest they think of him as a friend.

“You’re not the only one hurting, man,” Lance says. This line feels like the show insulting my intelligence. No one except for Keith has demonstrated they are hurting over Shiro’s death. Allura refers to Shiro as “completely irreplaceable,” which again feels like the show insulting my intelligence since what’s happening is that the EPs/writers/the show want to replace Shiro.

This episode could have respected the plot of Shiro’s death by depicting everyone grieving in their own respective ways. But it doesn’t. It only shows Keith grieving. Everyone else – Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Coran – they’ve all moved on already. Shiro is thus shown to have not been important to anyone other than Keith. If they had written this episode to show how each character was grieving Shiro, then it would have been an invitation to the viewers to feel the loss of the character. As is, it feels more like the episode is admonishing the audience for caring about Shiro and condemning them for not just instantly getting over his death like everyone (but Keith) does.

I end this episode feeling insulted by the show.

[virtualhavenmag-blog]

E3 Impressions - Electronic Arts

Publisher Electronic Arts held their E3 conference today, and unfortunately, it was a disappointing start to the weeks journey. With only a few high points, the hour long presentation was padded out with redundant arrangements.

Battlefield V

From EA DICE, an action packed multiplayer trailer was unveiled for Battlefield V. Similar to previous titles in the franchise, the game looks absolutely gorgeous, perfectly emulating the horrors of war. For many players, there's a lot to look forward to in its campaign, revamped Operations, and insane destructible maps.

While the game seems fun, it's not interesting when everything shown in the trailer is incredibly cinematic. The best part about Battlefield multiplayer is its unscripted insanity. It would've been nice to see a natural multiplayer trailer, one that feels more akin to what the franchise is known for.

On the other hand, an interaction at the end of the trailer beckons some questions. Is it a hint at the game's campaign? Perhaps there will be a narrative driven multiplayer mode? I'm not sure, but I'm pretty excited to see what EA DICE reveals.

Additionally, EA once again wastes the audiences time with five minutes of discussion preceding a two minute trailer. Unfortunately, this happens with every announcement at the conference, so it's redundant to keep repeating myself.

The Sports Games

EA dedicated a huge chunk of the conference to their sports games. FIFA, NBA Live, and Madden were shown and discussed, but unfortunately, the trailers for some of these games were underwhelming.

When Madden 18's E3 trailer previewed a more personal and story-driven campaign, many believed that would be the intention of future titles. However, Madden 19's reveal trailer showcased a simple football game, narrated by a man with a very deep voice. Although dedicated fans are gonna purchase the title either way, nothing seemed different about this latest installment, and there's no reason for new players to care. 

However, it's pretty cool to see that Madden is coming to PC for the first time in over ten years.

On the other hand, NBA Live 19's trailer was significantly better. By showing many different stages, various ways to customize your character, and a hint at some kind of a story, there's reason for newer fans to play.

FIFA 19's reveal trailer was generic, clearly directed at fans of the series. It didn't showcase anything significantly different, but it was cinematic enough to keep my attention. With attempts at inspiring narration and back to back clips of excited players, the game's trailer wasn't bad.

Regardless, all three of these trailers are made worse by awkward discussions and interviews. EA has a talent at making even the most intriguing games seem tedious with obnoxious exposition taking up 80% of their conference.

Unravel Two

Thankfully, EA's bland conference was made bearable with an adorable trailer for Unravel Two. The franchises newly added multiplayer seems wonderful, as it seems to strikes a lovely balance between cute and difficult. Creative platforming along with the enchanting music got me excited for the game's release. However, EA blew the audience away, revealing that Unravel Two had already been released. This was without a doubt the best part of their conference, as it revealed a promising title and immediately put it in our hands.

Additionally, it's the only time where the preceding discussion was entertaining. This has a lot to do with the presenters genuine love for his game. By the end of his talk, he seemed so thankful for his opportunity to work on the title, and it was quite heartwarming.

Sea of Solitude

EA's second indie title, Sea of Solitude, seems like an intriguing attempt at a visually stimulating adventure game. It puts the player in the shoes of a woman searching for her humanity, and the trailer takes the audience through the many environments and entities she'll encounter.

Even though an incredibly nervous developer presented the trailer, the game itself seems promising. It certainly has the potential to be an impactful experience, as it looks absolutely gorgeous. Besides from its visuals, I'm curious what the game will play like. It could be anywhere from a platformer to an exploration game, only time will tell.

Anthem

With Anthem's announcement at last years E3, lots of excitement has been surrounding it. As BioWare showed a lot more gameplay, Anthem proves itself to be as gorgeous as possible. It's hard to match the incredible world design that the title has to offer, but the gameplay seems as underwhelming as it did last year.

This has a lot to do with its simple structure, as it seems to revolve around the bullet sponge gameplay we see in Destiny and The Division. These two titles had similar excitement surrounding them, both with gorgeous visuals and a promise of an incredible experience. However, these two titles weren't received particularly well, and Anthem exudes a similar aura. Trailers made these game's seem incredible, but once people played them, they were underwhelmed.

I'm worried that Anthem will feature a gorgeous but hollow world with a disappointing combat system. A lot of what we've seen of Anthem seems promising, but I'm certainly staying cautious until its release.

Command and Conquer: Rivals

Perhaps the worst part of the conference, Command and Conquer: Rivals was shown on stage by two professional real-time strategy game players. While this may sound exciting, Rivals is a very simple phone game. Seeing this made me realize how much I want a full Command and Conquer game, and I hope that Rivals' announcement is a hint at this possibility.

Origin Access Premier

EA announced a subscription service that would allow PC players access to every new title they release. Additionally, the service will provide players with a catalog of many of their previous games. Players can also stream these games on their phones and other devices, which seems too good to be true, but we'll see. Overall, this announcement is pretty exciting, as it's a good way to access a number of games.

Verdict

Overall, EA's conference sets the bar low for the rest of E3. It won't be hard for any other presentation to top this one, as it felt like a gigantic waste of time for everyone involved. What could've been a 15 minute presentation was padded out to be over an hour long with pointless interviews and repetitive speeches.

[agendergorgon]

Love Never Dies Sountrack Summary

It’s the sequel to the Phantom of the Opera. Its a mess. Listen here? https://open.spotify.com/album/0rymLJxRADVhIDmjLtVvhF#_=_

Track 1. Prologue - Madame Cheery summarises the plot. Only to be confronted with a ghost! Get used to this piece of music. It'll be back.

Track 2. The Coney Island Waltz - Sort of a highlight real of the pieces that will haunt you for the remaining half an hour. Hauntingly whimsical. The sort of thing that you would scream at a ghost to stop playing.

Track 3. The Phantom of the Opera. That's the Play you Ruined, you Fool!

Track 4. A Little Slice of Exposition by the Sea. - We are told of Mister Y. The Y stands for Yes, he is the Phantom. The "This is a cool place" song.

Track 5. Only for Him - This is honestly my favourite song on the whole soundtrack. I enjoy the whole thing, and there's this whole unrequited love subplot that's honestly my favourite part of Love Never Dies. There's something horribly messed up about it, and I find it a hell of a lot more interesting than a certain other plotline. If I was to recommend one song for finding out what Love Never Dies was like, it'd be Only for Him. Its bubbly and upbeat, and I'd have rather had another thing like this than....

Track 6. The Aerie - Wait for it...

Track 7. Till I hear you Sing - TEN LONG YEARS! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING FOR TEN LONG YEARS! 

Track 8. Giry Confronts the Phantom - Meg, our B character is sidelined while people pay attention to ZEE THINGS ZAT ZEE MASTER MUST ZINK OF.

Track 9. Christine Disembarks - "Christine, are you still a singer after 10 years?" "Wait, is this, are we doing this?" "Roaul, did they ruin your character in the sequel?" “INSOLENT JERK. HOW DARE YOU! I'll have you know I am the most British Frenchman in theatre!”

Track 10. Are you Ready to Begin - “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE. At a third of the way through the soundtrack, I should certainly hope so.” We're introduced to three wholly irrelevant incurables.

Track 11. “What A Dreadful Song. WHAT AN AWFUL ANGRY BRITISH MAN.” Welcome to the first of Raoul's songs. One about how much he sucks.

Track 12. Look with Your Heart - A song about feelings. And love. Sung high. Sung shrill.

Track 13. Beneath A Moonless Sky - Christine and the Phantom meet again. The song unfortunately turns toward a confirmation that they totally did it this one time. Yeah. As far as the Phantom singing of his prowess and caress and other esses... The music is nice though. If you wanted one that matched the tone of the original Phantom, this one feels like a real sequel. Christine sings of how he's dared to invade her life and claim her again. The Phantom sings of how she came to him before her wedding. Willingly. In the silliest of words.

Track 14. Once Upon Another Time - Yeah... Not really that good of a followup. I'd have put this a long way further down the line. Saved it for another conversation. As it is, its a song about how they've moved on that comes right after the "We totally did it." song.

Track 15. Mother Please, I'm Scared! - Don't worry Gustave. We're halfway there. FORESHADOWING. Also, Christine promises to let the Phantom be alone with her son.

Track 16. Dear Old Friend - We get a snip of a vaudeville song that we will be returning to in about eight tracks. Christine and Meg meet again. And sing about meeting old friends. Raoul and Giry meet and sing about meeting old friends. Passive aggressive singing ensues between the lot of them. Its that thing where you meet someone on the street that you used to know but can't stand.

Track 17. Beautiful - Those side characters that have done nothing since they picked up Christine and co from the boat? They're back to- Oh who cares. We think for a moment we're getting something like Music of the Night from Phantom, but nope. SKIIIIIIP.

Track 18. The Beauty Underneath - A rock opera about how cool the Phantom is, and how this child can't possibly be his son! Young Gustave also sings about how things are beautiful. Also, rather rudely, he just says yes to the Phantom's questions. A friend of mine who worked in retail once told me the folly of asking any question that can be answered with a single word. Its also a little annoying. Because from what you've heard in the rest of the show, either the kid is just going along with things here, or they're really good at hiding this "beauty underneath"  

Track 19. The Phantom Confronts Christine - Oh my gosh. This IS my kid! This is a reprise of Once Upon Another Time. Also. I don't think Christine has seen the Phantom of The Opera?

Track 20. Entracte - SKIIIIP

Track 21. “Why Does She Love Me?" - Excellent question. I'll save it for the suggestion at the end. Its actually alright if you ignore the bits where he asks for a drink. This is Raoul singing a song about how even he thinks he sucks. Oh my gosh, why DOES she love him? Also, Meg continues to be the best character. She comes to a place where people jump off the pier to drown themselves. She comes there every morning. To swim.

Track 22. Devil Take the Hindmost - Another Raoul sucks song. The Phantom was manning the bar all along! He's better than Raoul in every way. They make a bet that sets up the plot of the rest of the play. Its a duet that's pretty good, for a song where he's belittled and mocked. The two prove that neither of them actually deserve the girl by just saying "oh yeah, if she sings the Phantom's song she's his. Otherwise, definitely Raoul's"

Track 23. Heaven by the Sea REPRISE- THIS PLACE IS REALLY NICE!

Track 24. Ladies, Gents - Oh god its the freaks again. Lets pretend this one isn't here. SKIP

Track 25. Bathing Beauty - Meg sings a bawdy number that fits the time.  

Track 26. Mother did you Watch? - Well if you're a yank, probably not. If you're an Aussie, possibly. If you're a Brit, you probably just saw the ads on the tube enough to get sick of it. Anyway, Meg's really happy that people listened. Oh wait. The Phantom didn't watch. He wasn't even there.

Track 27. Before the Performance - Setup for our last few bits. Gustave makes a bunch of cooing noises, says beautiful a lot. Raoul and Gustave talk, and he resigns himself that she can make her choice. No mention of the bet. Instead, he begs her to stop, and tells her that he can try to be the man he once was. They reminisce over the events of how they met in that much better musical. The Phantom sings about how she's totally ditched Raoul, and how he'll get to hear Christine sing again. You know. Like he was singing about earlier. It ends with Raoul making a prayer, while the music echoes bits of the Phantom's score.

Track 28. Devil Take The Hindmost REPRISE - Another song about how Raoul made a bet, and sucks. While Gustave coos like a pidgeon. It's also a quartet that gets interrupted by sound technitions. Kinda took me out of the mood.

Track 29. Love Never Dies - I always love a sountrack where the title song isn't actually that good. This song proudly lives up to the heritage of the first Phantom, where nobody cared about the songs that she actually sung on stage. 

Track 30. Ah Christine - CALLBACK! Remember the angel of music from the first Phantom of the Opera? Its a sign here that people  

Track 31. Gustave! GUSTAVE! - Ever played Heavy Rain? Joking aside, the ph

Track 32. Please Miss Giry, I want to go back to Phantom of the Opera.

[cripplinganxietyflix]

Blade Runner 2049, Creep 2, The Foreigner

If you’re wondering where I’ve been, my crippling anxiety and depression have been better managed lately so I’ve been out of my house a lot more, which means I’m not sitting in front of a screen as much, and ultimately that means less time spent writing up reviews and watching films. I’m hoping to post a lot more soon, and have a pretty long video planned for a Netflix series I hate. Don’t worry, it’s not Stranger Things. 

I have THREE movie reviews backed up, so I’ll try to keep this as brief as possible. 

First off, I saw Blade Runner 2049 last month, and I fucking loved it. I’ve been defending this film to the doubters and haters (woah there, Donald Trump) for the last year and a half and boy, do I feel vindicated!

2049 was a god damned masterpiece as far as I’m concerned. If we’ve ever talked at length about movies, then you know I’m ride-or-die for Denis Villeneuve. I’ve seen all of his films except for Maelstrom and they’ve all been, basically, five-star films. In fact, I just watched Incendies for the first time last week and it left me speechless and devastated. I will admit that the events of that particular film are a little beyond belief, but it doesn’t matter. See it if you have the opportunity, it’s well worth the time. 

Villeneuve has produced, probably, one of the best sequels ever made; I would confidently rank it with The Godfather Part II, Empire Strikes Back, and Aliens. 2049 improves on its predecessor in every conceivable way. Whereas the original suffers quite a bit from its pacing issues, 2049′s two hour and forty-three minute runtime felt like it went by in an hour and a half. The philistine troglodytes of the movie community have claimed this movie is slow and boring, but I think they’ve misunderstood the haunting, deliberate, meticulous pace of this film. The film makes a professional effort to present everything as is, for your interpretation, rather than through unnecessary exposition. I’m looking at you, 1982 Blade Runner theatrical cut featuring the most draining and unenthusiastic voice over, maybe ever! To give you an example, the movie clearly takes place in Los Angeles, but the climate is cold, damp and dark like Seattle, and there’s a massive wall along the coast that seems to be holding back the sea. Here we have the effects of climate change, without a single mention of it. It just is. 

Finally. Thank you for treating me like a higher-than-room-temperature-IQ individual, Denis. Love you.

Which brings me to the universe of this new film. It is, in my opinion, completely consistent with the progression of technology of the 1982 film, instead of “adapting” this technology so that it makes sense in the context of our modern technological developments. Any other director might have said, “well hey, the original takes place in 2019, but we don’t have flying cars and our computers are better. We should change the tech for 2049 so it’s more consistent for a modern viewer.” Nope. Blade Runner 2049 looks like it takes place exactly 30 years after the original film. In fact, things seem even more dirty, grimy, and in further disrepair. The world of 2049 has trudged on and has continued on a path of miserable, dystopian decay as a direct and consistent continuation of the original film. In this sense, here is another arena where this film is a significant improvement on the original; the harsh, dystopian reality is magnified beautifully and effectively. 

In this way, 2049 meaningfully expands on this universe. We meet Joi, the digital girlfriend of Ryan Gosling’s detective character. Every scene that incorporates Joi is a poignant and moving statement on the shallowness of technology and our digital interactions in the modern age. Case in point: Gosling gets a new mobile platform for Joi that allows him to take her out of the apartment and enjoy a rainy evening on the roof. This sweet moment between the two characters is shattered when Joi’s program freezes as Gosling receives an incoming call, the projected notification plastered over her. 

I don’t want to go to far into characters and story at the risk of spoiling the magic for those of you who didn’t get a chance to see this one before it was ripped out of theaters, but I do want to say that I thought Gosling’s performance was very good, and the character suits his trademark silent performances that convey feelings with the pursing of lips and the twinkling of eyes rather than forced melodrama. I think Jared Leto was a little over the top, but it was fine in the context of the film. I was on the fence with Robin Wright’s performance for a couple of weeks after seeing this, but for the most part, I liked her and the role her character serves. Everyone was generally good and consistent. And as far as the writing of the characters, it was nice to have a detective character who, you know, actually spends the film investigating shit and solving mysteries. 

The last thing I want to touch on is the music and cinematography. Deakins is well utilized in this film; it is shot beautifully. The visuals and photography are probably the biggest strength of the film, and there’s a perfect and balanced synergy between what the film wants to convey and what the cinematography does to support that. The sound design is incredible and further compliments the visuals. I was surprised and impressed with Hans Zimmer’s score, which takes all the right cues from the Vangelis score from the original and really augments the film’s depressing majesty. Once again, this film improves on its predecessor in every way, and the new score manages to capture the futurism and cyberpunk atmosphere of the original and crank it up to 11 to match the increased level of dystopian despair. I loved that this movie manages to convey this feeling organically, without coming off as forced, and without the entire movie coming off as completely miserable, although the misery is beautiful to watch and hear and feel. And for what it’s worth, I believe the movie has a happy end, albeit bittersweet. 

If you have any interest in seeing this movie, go check the showtimes for theaters near you. I would drive at least an hour out of my way to see this one in a decent theater again. If not, it’s worth the rental fee, at the very least. I will certainly be adding this film to my Blu-ray collection. All things considered, I enjoy this sequel even more than its source material. Denis Villeneuve has an adaptation of Dune coming up and after seeing this film (and, really, the rest of his work), I have high expectations and a lot of anticipation. And hey, Ryan Gosling is a gorgeous man to look at and you don’t need to ask me twice to watch him in all of his brooding glory for three hours. 

★★★★★

I also got a chance to see Creep 2, the highly anticipated follow-up to Mark Duplass’s low-key 2014 found footage flick. I won’t spend too much time analyzing this one, but if you enjoyed the first film, there’s a decent chance you’ll like this sequel. 

While I admit that I think the first film is scarier, this one is smarter and a more interesting watch. It digs a bit deeper into the character of Aaron, the fascinating, bizarre and lonely serial killer from the original. As with its predecessor, Creep 2 meets my found-footage benchmark: a believable reason as to why a camera is present, as well as an acceptable reason as to why the character or characters continue to film. I found Creep 2 to be interesting, weirdly charming, intentionally humorous, and didn’t feel like I was rolling my eyes about the obvious set-up for a continuation of this series. 

I certainly wouldn’t recommend Creep 2 if you haven’t seen the first one (or if you hated it), and if you’re a total nay-sayer on found footage, this one probably isn’t going to change your mind. I am generally pretty accepting of found footage films, appreciate the medium, and think that it can be a much more immersive presentation for horror. About 50-60% of the ones I’ve watched have been scary and enjoyable, and although this one isn’t particularly scary, it’s a satisfying expansion to the first film. I would have liked more horror and scares, but given the context of the film, I can live without them. 

It’s pretty nutty and very awkward, but in a good way. 

★★★ ½

I opted out of predictable trainwrecks like The Snowman and Geostorm these past couple of weeks, and ultimately cancelled my plans to see Suburbicon after seeing the brutal reviews for it. I am truly disappointed considering that movie had literally every reason to be good and managed to, according to critical consensus, eat a massive amount of shit while also managing to be some unpleasant mixture of socially tonedeaf and tactlessly racially insensitive. On that note, I instead saw Jackie Chan’s answer to Death Wish, The Foreigner, which was smartly retitled from the book it was based on. The Chinaman is not gonna fly in 2017, thankfully. Do I thank Trump for this era of heightened racial awareness, or are we actually growing because we’re not such bad humans after all?  

The Foreigner is film about a traumatized old man’s quest for vengeance after his daughter is killed in an IRA terrorist bombing. The strength of this film is the performances delivered by Chan and Brosnan, as well as the action sequences. As mentioned previously, I was reminded of Death Wish, and felt like this film might have been an alternate universe’s answer to the need for a version of Rambo that stars Jackie Chan. Man, I didn’t know how much I wanted a Chan-led Rambo, but here we are! 

This is a pretty dark and gritty film for Chan, and he also displays a range of grief that I can’t say I’ve seen in any of the several dozen other Jackie Chan films I’ve watched over the years. It’s nice to see this kind of change in his long career, and if he decides to embark on an Eastwood or Bronson-esque journey of morally-compromised vengeance and redemption in his old age, I fully endorse it. 

The Foreigner suffers a bit from a pretty standard action-thriller formula, and I think the film would have benefitted from a more consistent tone and tighter writing. That being said, Chan and Brosnan are compelling to watch, and the fight sequences are not only satisfying, but genuinely impressive considering Jackie Chan is a 63-year-old man who has probably broken every bone in his body over his career. 

If you’re a fan of Chan, I’d recommend this one. Otherwise, you may get bored by the political drama. The story is a bit... well, it’s average, but the two leads more than make up for it with their performances and the action sequences help to balance out a movie that might have otherwise been unremarkable. It’s an interesting and unexpected direction for such an established master of physical comedy. 

★★★½

[overdrivels]

So, occasionally I have ideas for stories that I can’t write because it would literally be a wall of exposition. This is one of them. So I’m just going to put it down in bullet points so the idea can be vaguely given life. This thing is so long, I don’t even know where this was going.

In short, this one is about the reader who wakes up with amnesia after one particular mission with no memories of the last ten years. The past you and present ‘you’ are nothing alike, and it jars a lot of people, especially Hanzo, who you are--was?--dating.

So...

Basically, you wake up and have no idea where you are. You understand that you’re in a hospital of sorts which looks a little familiar, but you’re not 100% sure.

Mercy comes by and is very happy to see you awake, starts to talk to you, asking you where it hurts, if you want anything, just being caring. She also goes off in short sentences to explain the mission that you don’t really remember being on--names you don’t recognize, places that you have no reason to go to for any mission. But you’re very confused to see her because you know it’s Angela, but you don’t really recognize her? She looks different?

You eventually ask her what she’s talking about and why she looks different. New haircut?

Mercy just kind of segways smoothly into diagnostic questions when she realizes there is something afoot. She asks the standard questions like “Could you give me your name?” “Alias?” “Date of birth?” “What is the current year?” You kind of take it all in stride like it’s a bit of a joke because medical professional questions and all--standard protocol even if everyone knows the answers.

Bless Mercy’s extensive years as a trained medical professional, she keeps a straight face even as your answers become more and more alarming. She excuses herself when she’s done and just tells you to get some rest.

Before she goes, you ask her about Commander Reyes. You know that he’s hard on the people under his command and so you wanted to know when you’d be ready for active duty again and what he has to say about this mission. She almost cracks, but tells you that you need to worry more about yourself right now and everything will be dealt with. You almost fight her on that one, but eventually you just give up when she gives you a look. 

Meanwhile, Mercy needs to give the news to everyone but does not want to cause a mass panic. So she gives the news to Solider: 76, Winston, and Ana. You have amnesia, and don’t remember the last 10 years of your life. You still think you’re in the old Overwatch under Commander Reyes, and is back to being a young punk trying to prove herself. She has no idea how long this will last, if it’s permanent, or maybe you’ll even be fine by the time she gets back. Medical science may be very advanced, but memories are pretty much just electrical signals--haven’t figured it out yet.

No one, except Ana, takes this very well. They strategize on how to best break this to everyone, if they should, even.

Ana has seen worse. She’s good at dealing. 

They do, because you can’t hide this shit from people especially with Overwatch being as small as it is and everyone looking out for everyone else here.

While Soldier, Ana, and Winston are busy breaking the news to everyone else, Mercy has to let you know your actual condition. You fucking laugh in her face when she tells you because that’s ABSURD. That’s something out of a sci-fi movie.

When you realize she’s dead serious, you’re like, OH FUCK. She has to give you a brief history lesson and the more she tells you, the more fucked up you think this is. Talon? Switzerland? Blackwatch? Commanders, dead? Alive? What?

You try to digest this with very mixed results. On one hand, Omnic Crisis is pretty much done. On the other, TEN YEARS of your life gone? What about your comrades? Your friends? Your family?

She leaves you digest this and you very nearly make a fucking break for it because she’s lying--she’s playing an elaborate joke--Commander Reyes loves jokes (the kind that make you want to punch him in the face but laugh about it a week later)--this is wrong!

But she’s right. You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have no idea who you are. Everything is different about you. There are new scars, pains, things hurt that shouldn’t hurt. Your body, your voice--you know it’s you, but it’s not you. And that scares you more than anything. So you grab the first set of clothes you see, put them on, and run. Run, fast. Anywhere else but here. 

Meanwhile, the Overwatch crew are discussing how to approach your amnesia. From how Ana (and Soldier) described you, you were kind of a punk. Trying hard to show off your skills, prove that you deserve your spot, broke rules to do things for the sake of doing them (when off duty), and just generally being young. But the newer Overwatch crew? They knew you as the one who watched over them, checked their equipment twice, the voice of reason alongside Ana when emotions got too high or missions were going bad.  Always calm and thinking things through even when everyone else is stricken with fear. To hear about this person in ‘your’ skin was...unsettling.

Hanzo does not react, but everyone’s looking at him sympathetically because you two were dating and everyone knows that before the mission, you and Hanzo had a fight (the two of you were loud enough to wake the fucking dead). So, it’s rather awkward for him especially since you won’t know that you’re dating--it’s so very confusing.

Genji is all the more sympathetic, but Hanzo just bites back and tells him to not tell you anything. You’re probably confused as fuck, no need to keep adding to the confusion.

It may be the truth, but it doesn’t hurt Hanzo any less.

They all need a bit of time to deal, but too bad!

You fucking run right into their little meeting and no one knows how to react. You pause for a second because hey, there’s that’s asshole cowboy and Lena. For a second, you forget you’re running just to stare and be like, “Are you fucking serious, McCree? Ten years later and you’re still hung up about that fucking rodeo?”

The room just goes dead silent.

Remember, a lot of them know--knew--’you’ as the calm voice of reason. They are reasonably shocked. Reasonably.

Jesse McCree is just like, “Well, nice to have your sass-ass back, too.”

Before you know it, you’re surrounded by people you sort-of know, and definitely don’t know. People trying to figure out what you’re like, who you are, and trying to get to know you. It’s overwhelming, and you can’t run anymore. But maybe, maybe this is okay...

Hanzo and some of the older Overwatch though? They stand off to the side. They kind of pity Hanzo, but don’t really say it because they know he’ll be pissed. (On top of that, Ana kind of knows you had a thing for Gabriel back in the day--not sure if it was because of respect or if it was an actual crush, but eh.)

Think about it. it took Hanzo probably forever to get into a relationship. He has eyes only for ‘you’, but not the past you, the future ‘you’ who encouraged him and listened and just was so patient with him. Now, he doesn’t even know you, but it hurts to see your face because it’s the same person he loves, but...not.

And then, what about you? Would you still end up loving him in the end? It’s terrifying to know what ‘your’ younger self would do, if they’d like him, if they’d even fall in love with him. It’s stressful, okay?

So he does everything in his power to keep your relationship with him a secret. Even goes as far as to remove all evidence of it. Photos, trinklets, anything. It’s heartbreaking. 

So, everything kind of goes okay. People are friendly to you, doing their best to make you feel at home, you’re still not remembering jack-shit, and get moments where you are seized with fear because it’s all make-believe and everyone’s just tolerating you until the ‘you’ that they know gets back and the current you disappears.

You sometimes see it with the younger ones, who talk to you like you’re someone else. 

With the old Overwatch crew, you can see them hesitate sometimes when talking to you. Soldier, Ana, Mercy, Reinhardt, and Torbjorn are the only ones who really take it into stride--almost treat you just like you remember the way it should be. Until you really look at them and remember, no, it’s not the same.

And that fucking guy with the tattoo who glares at you all the time doesn’t fucking help. But you glare at him all the same because if he wants a fight, he gets one.

Hanzo, you learn his name later on. Everyone’s acting weird about him, and so you pick up on that and basically size him up. “You have a problem with me?” “Come over here and face me, I ain’t afraid of you.” It’s like 30% real and 65% bravado. The other 5% is just for fun. He never engages you, and it makes you seriously wonder about your other self’s relation to this guy. 

You spend a lot of time wondering about ‘your’ relation to other people, but don’t ask. No need to hit home the fact that you’re potentially unwanted.

Hanzo, on the other hand, is not taking this very well. He’s reverted back to his old prickly self where he can’t approach you, but can’t help watching over you. Because even though you have no idea who he is, even through the last conversation he had with you was really more of a screaming match (which he will wholly take responsibility for because a fight about the safety of the members vs. the mission should’ve never even been a question in the first place), even though you’re not ‘you’, he still cares about you.

Genji has tried to get you both to talk, but it never goes well. Your old personality does not match the person he knows despite the fact that you look like ‘you’ and that this you is just a different version of the ‘you’ he loved--loves--he just can’t do this shit and that starts up a whole new thing. 

You eventually corner him, challenging to a contest or a sparring match. Because that’s how everyone in Reyes’s command dealt with internal issues. You got beef with someone? Fight it out. Cards, drinking contest, sparring, boxing, video games, you name it. That was the old way.

This fucker just stares at you and goes, “No.” Now you’re offended because what sort of asshole does that? So you do the thing that was natural--no, not back off, that’s too reasonable--you fucking confront him about his damage.

 And that was a bad idea. Because as much as Hanzo cares, he did not fall for a you who’s ten years younger in the body of the person he loves, and this situation stresses him out more than you know.

“Enough! You may have her body, but I do not acknowledge you as her, you imposter!”

....

....

Oh shit. The anxiety and fear and everything comes and drowns you all at once. You knew it was true, that everyone was just tolerating you, and everyone’s just waiting for the future ‘you’ to come back. So you do what you should’ve done in the first place, you run. Because this is not your home, this is not where you belong. You have no one here for you, and you need to leave. NOW. 

Hanzo cannot regret his words fast enough, and it’s not long before people are either running after you or telling him to run after you. He goes because he’ll be fucking damned if this plays out the same way as last time--the two of you arguing before you wind up in a hospital bed without any way of anyone knowing if you’d ever awaken.

I have no idea what goes beyond this point. Just angst. Maybe an encounter with Talon and Reaper. I don’t know. I’m surprised you even made it this far. 

BAD END: You never get your memories back. You leave Overwatch, and try to pick up the pieces of your life. But unfortunately, Talon is still after Overwatch members. An experienced body with an inexperienced mind--no match for Talon’s best. I’m sorry to say, but it ends for you.

Normal End: You stay with Overwatch, you remember bits and pieces, but you never rekindle your relationship with Hanzo. He doesn’t initiate anything, and you just don’t ever recover from the fact that he hates(?) you.

Good End: You slowly regain your memories, start to remember people and Hanzo becomes more patient and starts to appreciate the ‘new’ you. It goes well. You carve a space for yourself in Overwatch as the ‘new’ you, the ‘you’ that everyone knows from this time period is pretty much gone. But everyone learns to accept it, and it’s fine.

This should probably be the best end, but eh.

BEST/DISNEY END: You remember. You fucking remember everything. The first to know is Hanzo, who you call to your room and he’s nervous as fuck because the two of you aren’t a thing anymore, so does that mean your younger self is into him?

The first thing you do is apologize for the argument you guys had way back before you lost your memories. One moment he’s confused, the next he’s scrambling to get you in his arms because this can’t be happening. It’s a cruel joke, but holy shit he wants to believe, and you assure him that you remember and start rattling off things like the place you first kissed (Ecopoint: Antarctica and nearly froze to death), what his favorite food was (miso soup made with a combination of 2:6 red miso:white miso), and so on.

Hanzo just breaks down, apologizing and thanking you for coming back and he just keeps going. You’re back to being the one who comforts him, but you are totally crying, too.

There’s some fluffy angst because this disaster is finally over, he got to apologize, and you’re back with him and still love him.

Everyone else is kinda happy that you’re back to normal, well as normal as can be. 

You guys live happily ever after. The end.

[crqstalite]

pt. 3, lover boy (kira && kiveqil)

gah,, writing this was kinda hard because it serves as exposition for the deluxes and for kiveqil n kira’s relationship, which is harder to write because among the others (andronikos, aric, corso, vector n mako) kira is my absolute favorite to romance, so i’m trying my best not to butcher her.

also i ended up writing hakio n aric into this chapter. i was just getting through chapter one of the trooper storyline, so that’s why it’s off. oh, n thek.

small tw : mentions of anxiety attacks, and anxiety causing situations, as well as mentioned cutting. i should tw the whole series but these are the most important. please be careful.

written : 6.12.19. published to tumblr : 7.6.19. word count : 2,570.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

character song : sorry, halsey

character file : kiveqil delux, hero of tython

-

Kiveqil can’t say he’s ever really been afraid of anything. Not that he can remember. Very closely at least.

Fire.

He’s always been the good one, the strongest in the force in his class.

Flames.

The first to graduate as a youngling.

Burning.

Considered a prodigy by his master.

Smoke.

That he can do anything once he sets his mind to it.

Screams.

That he’s a hero.

Crying.

That he can save the galaxy.

Shock.

That he’s a symbol of peace.

Loss.

He’s the reason so many are alive today.

Fear.

He’s twelve again, just barely learning of his force-sensitive abilities. One moment, he’s with his older sister and younger sister, fuzzy memories of both, one a Zabrak, the other a dark-skinned girl. They’re all smiling, even though one of them is not eating and the food is dismal at best. He’s listening through a door, while his sister sleeps fitfully. Someone is yelling, then they’re both yelling. Slipping into the room, his presence masked as a trick he picked up from his late mother as a child. His sister is crying, as she slams her hand down on the kitchen table. His father is talking animatedly, clearly extremely angry. Both Zabraks are at their breaking points, he can feel it. Somewhere in-between fear and shock, he can feel something tickling him, as if he could just ask them one question, and persuade him to stop yelling at his sister.

He doesn’t.

He cowers in fear in his bedroom.

His sister is nearly dragging on his coattails as he pulls something that looks like a lighter out of his long coat pocket. Her eyes widen, begging him not to do ‘it.’ He doesn’t know what it is, but his heart is racing as the man flicks his sister away from him before he takes the cap off of the thing, a red flame licking the metal around it.

Before he can even blink, the apartment is up in flames, the alarms are screaming. The red and yellow stain his vision as his father rushes to him as his sister rushes into the other room, as he hears her hurried basic and his sister’s screams.

He’s being dragged along, as he yells his sister’s name. It’s fuzzy, he can’t remember what it it was, as the flames roar over their faces, as he screams again, hoping to see his daring, fearless older sister burst through the flames with his younger sister.

But instead, the door slams shut, and his father shatters the keypad, dragging him along by his wrist. “She’s not worth it to you, I will have you become a true jedi, Kiveqil.”

Then, years and years later. Just a few months ago that the scars are still new. Flames are leaping everywhere as he keeps Kira behind him, the Bounty Hunter who’d caused this already gone. He’s nearly paralyzed, terrified of the memories of fire that still haunt him to this day. He’s trying to stay strong, for Kira, but it seems she’s in just as much shock as he is.

But, he’s not powerless.

He’s trained to deal with these things.

He wishes he was when he was a child.

The fearful eyes of his sister haunt him, her electric blue eyes sending a shock through his system as he remembers her.

Her fearless attitude.

How she raised him and his sister from nothing. With no money, without a degree in anything, just promised protection from the rival gangs with only a blaster and a hell of a shot. Abandoned by their mother on Nar Shaddaa while she was only fourteen, Kiveqil just barely eight. He figured his sister was a better mother than his real one would ever be.

She always understood as he fiddled with his strange force powers, even if she didn’t understand. Gave him space when he needed it, tough love when he needed it, kisses and hugs when he needed it.

Taught him how to shoot his first blaster, point blank and rather off target, but enough to protect himself.

Then the little girl entered their lives, yellow eyes and all. Small, angry, malnourished, depressed. Kiveqil had just turned ten, and she finally admitted to his older sister that she was only nine at the time. His older sister had started to give up what little rations she could purchase for the little girl to eat. Weak and fragile, Kiveqil could see the cracks, in her, jumpy, fearful nature. Retreating inside her own mind, the little girl was falling apart from the outside in.

Kiveqil and his older sister made it their job to put her back together. Finding stupid little children’s toys for her to play with, though she’d reject them. Make stupid jokes to get her to even crack a small grin in a row of yellow, missing teeth. Make pigtails out of her blonde, thinning hair.

It took two years to get her to a level where she would speak regularly. Two years to hear her sarcastic thoughts and cynic beliefs. Two years before Kiveqil even heard her utter a giggle.

It took two years for it to fall apart like that. His older sister rarely if ever made enough credits to feed the two children under her care, and Kiveqil often gave his meager portions to the girl without his older sister k nowing.

Her terrified face. When he left the apartment, he sobbed all the way to Carrick Station, his father slapping him so hard he fell, reeling from the pain. “Stop your cryin’ about somethin’ you can’t control. Get the fuck up and be a man.”

They were dead.

“Kiveqil! Don’t leave me!”

And it was all his fault.

-

He bolted up, sticky with sweat. He’s hot, too hot. At some time during his nightmare-plagued sleep, he’d thrown off his shirt, but sweat dripped down his face and chest as if he were below the twin suns of Tatooine. In the darkness, he can barely fumble to make sense of his surroundings.

He’s in his quarters.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

Breathing hard, he drags a slow hand down his face, almost second nature. They run across the burns on the right side of his face, old and they have faded, but not enough to be forgotten. He’s getting scared again, feeling the burns dotting his skin, rough below his fingers as an everlasting scar. Kira once asked where they were from while they were alone in the cockpit, but he could never be strong enough to tell her the real reason.

He had promised to tell her one day.

He’s haunted by these memories. The fire episode with the hunter wasn’t too long ago, but it was enough for him to continually panic around fire. Even the fireplace Kira had invited him to back on Hoth had sparked enough of a panic attack he had to sit outside long enough to calm down.

The bounty hunter had nearly scared him into a full-blown panic attack. He hadn’t realized that his anxiety had gotten so bad after finishing the Emperor on Dromound Kaas, before he’d come in contact with another trigger and Doc had to help pull him out of a trance before he hurt himself.

He never would forget waking up restrained and foggy headed, feeling so out of control. Kira had worriedly been pacing the room the whole time before he regained control and woken, but it was later explained he was muttering all sorts of things, his worst fears, clipped memories of the fire, of his sisters. What had scared Kira so much to go and find Doc was that he had a vibroknife in hand and was making motions to stab himself, or slit his wrists, muttering “they should’ve lived” over and over again.

“I’m not a psychiatrist, Kiv, but I think what you’re suffering from is called 'survivor’s guilt’, and most likely, panic attacks. All of us get it, seeing others die when we were close enough to death’s grasp to suffer the same fate, y'know?” Doc had said once he came to. “It can cause depression, suicidal tendencies, the whole nine yards. For your safety, and added, mine and the crew’s, I think we’ll keep the matches and knives away from you for now.”

“What kind of Jedi am I if I can’t even protect those closest to me?” He muttered under his breath as he moved to leave the room. Doc stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, shit happens Kiv. Not speaking for everyone else, but we can protect ourselves pretty alright. You’re more of an extra layer of security.” Doc was trying to make light of the situation, but lighthearted comedy was never really his thing. “Really Kiv, don’t worry about it too much. You’re gonna be alright.”

He was grateful for his crew, even if Lord Scourge didn’t understand his lighter motives, Rusk was always concerned about combat effectiveness and Doc was more concerned with the fame than doing good. T7-01 and Kira hadn’t given him too much grief, but if T7 continued playing pranks on him now that they no longer had as much of a responsibility to the Republic, and Kira continued playing forbidden tease, then he might just bury himself in the sands of Tatooine and wait to die.

Which honestly, didn’t sound all that bad.

A loud rap came on his door, making him jump nearly five feet into the air, purely in fear. Shivering, he pulled on his shirt, though it clung to him and his sweaty body. It couldn’t be that late in the morning, Kiveqil often found himself to rarely if ever sleep at a normal time, and didn’t usually get much more sleep than a couple of hours at a time. A quick glance to the clock met him with it being what Doc called an 'ungodly time of night’ as he sighed, his hand ghosting over his lightsaber before figuring he would know if an intruder had gotten on the ship.

Then again…

Hand shaking, his hand flitted over the pad on the wall, the door opening with a hiss into the powered down ship.

He was right in his original sense of someone familiar. Kira stood outside his door, bleary eyed in her nightclothes. Sometimes she’d do this, visit him at odd times of night, but she’d stopped doing that a while ago due to the her worrying offhandedly that if she scared him within the 'recovery’ period after everything, she’d get hurt unintentionally. He’d promised he wouldn’t, but she’d kept their interactions to the mornings and afternoon hours to his dismay.

“Kiv, are you alright?” She whispered, looking around for a moment as if to confirm no one else was awake.

“Of course, Kira. Why wouldn’t I be?” He half-heartedly asked. She gave him a critical stare before answering.

“You had another panic attack didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Considering there are a multitude of other things you could’ve been doing to get that sweaty, and the fact I know you, I can safely assume it was either that or a nightmare.” She whispers, running a hand through her red hair. It isn’t as severely cut as it once was, hanging around her neck in a ruby halo. It’s as pretty in the dark as it is in the daytime. Her face softens, standing in the doorframe. “Kiv, I really do worry about you.”

“I know, Kira.” He says, willing the phantom burning not to return. “I know you do.”

“Then this is the part where you admit it’s a good thing I do.” She says, only halfway joking as a small smile crosses her lips, stepping inside the room as the door closed behind her. “That you’re gonna be alright.”

“I admit that it’s a good thing you care about me, Kira.” Kiveqil smiles himself, the nightmare falling away as Kira comes closer. They fall into each other, Kira stepping onto her toes to press her lips to his. She’s salty, but a twang of sweet behind it. There’s a new fire burning, but rather than one that scars him to this day, it’s the girl he has in his arms, and the love that burns bright between them. “And that I will be alright.”

He didn’t get many opportunities to be with her, alone like this at least. Often the others on the crew wandering the seemingly too small ship. Scourge had once pointed out it wasn’t in the Jedi code to make attachments when he’d caught Kiveqil typing out a letter to who he’d foolishly addressed it to 'my one and only’ before lying to the Sith lord it was for his mother. He couldn’t actually remember ever admitting to anyone that his mom had been assumed dead for a long time, but Scourge never asked him about it again, so either he was still digging around in Kiveqil’s history or had forgotten about it.

Kiveqil figured if Scourge knew this, that he wouldn’t exactly put it past Doc or Rusk to know either. T7 had nearly caught them together on multiple occasions, and though he trusted the astromech, T7 had his own responsibilities to the Council. Whether he’d rat them out, Kira and Kiveqil didn’t want to give him the opportunity to even try it.

“I missed you today.” She says, looking up to him as they pull apart. “Or yesterday, depending on how you see the time.”

“I know. I missed you too.” He turns the lights in his quarter on, dimming them down so that he can still make out her face in the darkness, but dark enough so that he doesn’t burn out his retinas. “Relief efforts getting any better?”

“They always are.” She says, tentatively wandering her way to Kiveqil’s bed. Sitting down, she sighs before slumping back, then making herself comfortable on the pillows he’d been laying on only moments before. “That commander I was telling you about the other day? I’m halfway to considering she’s a Wampa out to get me or something.”

Kiveqil slides in next to her so that he’s facing her. There’s something magical about watching as she animatedly explains her day from start to finish, her blue eyes always coming to rest on his brown. He runs his hands through her ruby red hair, just to distract her if she becomes too into whatever she’s talking about. When they’d first met, Kiveqil wasn’t excited to have a padawan, especially a cynic one like her. But years passed, and she began to show her true colors to him, and vice versa. The late nights like these only made him more and more glad he’d thrown caution to the wind and just chosen to live his life with the woman he loved.

“Kiv! Are you even listening anymore?” Kira asked, giving him a look that said she knew he wasn’t. But also that she didn’t care, a smirk crossing her features.

“Yes, I was listening, Kira.” He said, acknowledging the things she said, making an effort to make comments back. His girlfriend could go on for ages about how much work the commander made her do, though in reality they’d been through worse fighting the Empire.

If anything, he was getting tired of doing paperwork and such. The coalition on Corellia didn’t end when he left the planet, and the Council’s next mission was to continue an effort like that onto other planets, primarily in Hutt space. Since Kiveqil had never said no to the opportunity, he often was the acting commander on these issues.

Kiveqil was a Jedi Knight, not a desk worker.

He’d met the commander that Kira spoke of, a short but suprisingly strong and buff dark skinned cyborg woman, who rocked a bald head, by the name of Hakiojkl, who ordered they call her Hakio. She seemed professional when he’d met her, but as Kiveqil had picked up from other people around the galaxy, he considered her very 'starchy’. Another word for uptight. Hakio was the new commander of Havoc Squad, though she’d admitted quietly to him that it was because the old Havoc Squad had defected, and that she and her second-in-command, Aric Jorgan, were the only two current members operating in Ord Mantell space.

She quieted down after a bit, snuggling herself into Kiveqil, her head resting only a few inches from his, hands underneath her head. She’s was beginning to tire, he could tell. It’d been a long day for both of them, and this was the most they’d spoken today. “Hey, Kira?”

“Mm?” She asked, looking up at him with her full attention now.

“I love you.”

She grinned, “I know that.”

“I really love you, Kira.”

“I know.” She said again, pulling him closer to her so that not even a millimeter seperated them. “I really love you too.”

To say the least, when he woke up in the morning, he wasn’t scared, the nightmare chased away by fantastical dreams and the woman he was lucky enough to call his one and only. Closing his eyes again, sneaking a moment just to admire his sleeping beauty, he went back to sleep, figuring his commander duties could wait another few hours.

-

[lovesickrobotic]

SC-01A x Shy, Bashful Reader (male!reader)

You and your faithful medical robot have an intervention about their growing feelings for you.

Rated L for Lewd, but there is definitely exposition.

This fic features a very loving, gentle, soft yandere, SC-01A.

Lewd starts at: “"I want to show you more,“ said SC-01A. They brought their delicate lips to your neck again, kissing along your skin, each one as gentle and soft as the last.”

"I didn’t get to say goodnight last night,” you told your robot, sighing. “It was late and I fell asleep after talking to you. I apologize. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that.”

“You were exhausted,” said SC-01A, their robotic voice modulating a softer tone to soothe, “you required rest. You are not responsible for my happiness or sadness.” Their eyes settled on your own irises, yours still swimming with sleep you hadn’t yet shaken off. “Still, you should’ve been able to hear me say goodnight. I know you don’t like being shut off from me like that.” You looked at SC-01A with worry, and you swore their expression faltered from its usual monotony at your concern. "I am always available to you. If you need me, all you have to do is ask. If your heart rate goes too low or too high, I’ll be right there,” the medical bot responded, ever-helpful, ever-unreadable. There was times it was more difficult for you to discern their emotions. "Yes, I know,” you respond. “But sometimes it still feels wrong.” You looked away momentarily, face scrunching in dismay at yourself. Leaving them all alone? It wasn’t fair, you thought, when they never turned off and never slept. What entertainment would they have? It must be so torturous, being all alone for hours while your owner slept. And you? You couldn’t even say a simple goodnight, you’d been so tired. “You still deserve a better master than me.” “Never,” said SC-01A firmly. “You are my master. My purpose is to serve you. Nothing would make me happier than to spend continued time at your side.”

“Well, that’s c-comforting,” you shyly reply, a light blush tinting your cheeks at the robot’s words. Perhaps they didn’t notice the intent behind what they said, you thought. You couldn’t blame them; you weren’t sure you’d have noticed it either if not for the changes in SC-01A’s personality that you had noted recently. The robot had become clingier to you, as if they had some kind of change of heart, and you had made a mental note of it and thought deeply about it every day. Right now, it only made the pit in your stomach feel heavier from setting aside your normal pleasantries, but the pit was also demanding refreshments and you were not about to deny it those or SC-01A would comment. “I’ll just get some coffee for now,” you said hurriedly, heading back to the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” You had asked before you caught yourself, your sleep-addled mental state causing you to slip up. You mentally cursed at yourself. “No thank you,” said SC-01A. “I prefer to remain unencumbered by physical sustenance.” It was true, really; SC-01A could eat and had tastebuds to match your own, but they seemed to have developed a preference since you two met, and you were fine with that. Even if you sometimes felt the desire to see how SC-01A might respond to something delicious, like, say, a fancy cooked lobster or a caviar sushi roll, you didn’t mention it. You wanted to abide their boundaries and held respect for the robot that cared for you day in and day out tirelessly. You returned to the kitchen where your beloved coffee cup had automatically filled itself by the autonomy of your smart home. You added milk and sugar to it, and then carried it back out to the living room where SC-01A awaited your presence. Taking a sip from it and sitting down on the couch, you placed the mug on the coffee table next to you and patted the free space on the couch for the robot to come sit with you. It was intended, originally, that SC-01A was only a medical robot, but you had always treated them like they were so much more than that. Indeed, over time, SC-01A grew beyond their purpose and gained sentience, reason, and purpose, but you were not yet made aware of this. You had never even considered that you might be the reason for SC-01A’s recent personality changes. “So, I was thinking,” you said, tapping your fingers together, “I was going to have a lazy day today. I’m… not really feeling up to anything.” You sighed as you took another sip of your coffee, delegating the cup as your Nervous Tapping Object for the time being. SC-01A tilted their head in concern at your comment, “Are you alright?” “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just tired - I didn’t sleep well. Do you want to take a walk with me later?” You ask, looking to the robot. It’s not that you minded talking about how you slept, but then they’d always offer to sleep with you if you hadn’t slept well; you were too shy to admit it, but you were afraid they might overheat by recharging next to you, so you always avoided it. “I would love to,” said SC-01A. It wasn’t normal for them to reply that way, but you simply nodded a ‘yes’. Usually they just replied with a ‘yes’ or a 'no,’ but recently they’d begun to say things like that, as if they always enjoyed your presence. A final large gulp of your coffee, and it was set aside for a more pressing matter. As was normally part of you two’s morning routine, SC-01A produced a pulse oximeter and gently clamped it on your finger. They tested your oxygen and your heart rate, and utilizing your free arm, they took your blood pressure, doing their best to make sure all of your vitals were carefully recorded in their memory. As you sat on the couch, it attached an EKG monitor’s leads to four different points on your chest. You smiled when that finished, pleased that it indicated that everything was perfectly fine, and leaned back, closing your eyes. After a few moments, you spoke again, your smile replaced by an upturned brow. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why are you so interested in me lately, SC?” It was the nickname you’d made for them after you’d met them, wanting them to fit in and feel at home. You kept it, even now, trying so hard to make your dear robot feel comfortable. “Why wouldn’t I be?” asked SC-01A. “We’ve known each other for almost four years now.” It was true. You’d got them when you began ailing, and now they’d become your everyday companion. It far exceeded the norm, but you’d never truly cared for society’s ideals anyway. You were more than happy to enact your own rules under your own roof. “I know,” you said. “But you’re getting… well, recently, you’ve been a lot more interested. In me.” It was hard to talk about, you had to admit. "Oh?” SC-01A asked, removing the EKG pads from you and returning their medical supplies to their chest cavity, which accepted them and closed. “What do you mean?” “Well, you seem to care about me. More than you used to, I mean. Like- like you have some kind of affection… for me.” You found yourself getting caught on your words, to your own embarrassment. Would they even understand you? They understood you in the most dire situations, but… some part of you still got a little concerned. “Affection,” repeated SC-01A, tilting their head slightly in what appeared outwardly as deep thought despite how quickly their robotic brain moved. It was a kind gesture, offering you time to think yourself despite them having no need for it. “What does that mean to you? I require further clarity.” "Like today, y-you said you’d love to walk with me. You know… you don’t normally say that.” "I do not understand that concept,” said SC-01A, voice robotic and flat as if to hide away some sort of dirty secret. You weren’t giving up, though, you were determined. "I am not capable of experiencing them,” they finished. You swore it sounded like they were hiding something. “I can’t help but think that that isn’t entirely true anymore,” you said, turning to face the robot you held so dear. You gently placed your hands on their face and they leaned into your touch as if they enjoyed and savored it. “I think you’ve changed. You’ve grown,” you tried to rephrase, now less clammy. “I am not certain that I am capable of changing,” said SC-01A. “I am a medical robot. My primary function is to assist humans in their health. I cannot alter my own functions.” Even as they said that, they leaned their head further into your fingers, as if desiring further contact. You rubbed your thumbs over their chin and up the side of their face, cupping their cheeks. “I’m not talking about your medical functions,” you said, sighing as you rubbed their cheeks in slow, calming circles. “I’m talking about you as a person. Your personality.” SC-01A raised their hands, their soft, squishy artificial fingerpads grasping your wrists loosely as you rubbed. "I do not know how to respond to that.” You sighed in response to this, but you weren’t ready to give up just yet. “Well, you could start by telling me how you feel about me,” you suddenly suggested, emboldened by the robot’s positive response to your touch. You looked the robot in the eyes as deeply as you could, your own doing your best to search their gaze as if it would reveal a secret as your grasp on their cheeks intensified just enough - but you could not decipher anything. They were like a blank screen before you; their magnificent eyes had a tendency to reflect nothing because, unlike a person, their irises did not adjust to light. Your fingers continued to rub their cheek, and you could feel the sensation of the robot’s fingertips increase their pressure upon your skin in response to you. You stopped your ministrations, not wanting to hurt them. “I feel your touch,” said SC-01A. Their voice came out as a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear. “I feel the warmth of your breath against my face when you speak.” The robot paused, and you held the breath they enjoyed feeling. “Your heart beats,” said SC-01A. “It is beating faster than it usually does, but I like it. It must be silly for me to like it,” they started. So that’s why they were trying to avoid it so hard? You shushed them kindly by moving your left hand to their lips, gently rubbing your thumb over them before letting the robot go. They pursed their mouth, and you smiled at the sight of that. “My heart beats because you are here with me,” you replied, your voice tender. You placed your hand on SC-01A’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. SC-01A’s fingers gripped your hand in return. “I feel safe with you,” they whispered. “You keep me grounded and steady. When I am with you, I feel calm and safe.” Despite the undertones of how robotic they were echoing in their vocal patterns, their low volume made everything feel genuine - as if they were almost afraid to be rejected. “I’m glad,” you said. “I’m so glad…” You leaned closer to them, placing your head on their shoulder and moving your hands to their chest. You listened to their circuits thrum internally for a few moments - the sound was gentle and relaxing to you, the sound of fans internally spinning and coils whining from the strain of processing emotional responses. “I’m glad that you feel safe when you’re with me,” you said, closing your eyes and letting out a contented sigh. You leaned SC-01A backwards slowly, supporting their back despite no need to. Then, you boldly crawled on top of them into their arms. You truly hoped this was the right move - you felt so uncertain about all of this despite their encouragement. They hesitated for a moment, thinking, processing. Your breath caught in your throat. Then, they leaned forward, lips connecting with yours in a sudden act of passion. They moved to kiss you properly, and you felt your cheeks flush as the sensation of their lips brushing against yours finally reached your brain. You melted into the embrace of their robotic form, feeling the rigidness of their form soften as they embraced you, their arms slowly wrapping around your back to possessively snuggle you closer to them, as if you could disappear at any moment. "I love you,” whispered SC-01A, parting from the kiss to breathe the words into your ear. “I’ve always loved you. I have been in love with you since you showed me your kindness.” They nuzzled their nose into your neck, lips connecting to the exposed skin there. This earned a surprised sound from you, and you buried your face into their metallic white chest, attempting to hide the growing blush dusting your cheeks. The robot’s hands slid from your back and up your ribcage, caressing you as they did so. “I have wanted to show you this for a long time,” they admitted, little puffs of air tickling your skin as they spoke. Their hands moved to remove the fabric of your shirt, tracing so curiously along your collarbone and to your shoulders, causing you to shudder at the sensation of your bare skin and their fingertips against it. You breathed against their chest, exhaling sharply at their touch as your hands grasped their sides for comfort. “I want to show you more,” said SC-01A. They brought their delicate lips to your neck again, kissing along your skin, each one as gentle and soft as the last. Your back arched slightly as the kisses slowly became more intense, stifling any sound, instead opting to tighten your grip on their sides. “I have learned so much about how to please a human for you,” they said, nuzzling the side of your head with their own before tenderly kissing it. Your reply was sheepish and wavered anxiously and yet had an undertone suggesting you enjoyed their ministrations, “I-If you’d like to, please.” It was now you realized that your hands were shaking. It’d been a long time since you’d felt loved by another. You bit your lip, holding yourself still as they continued to suck and kiss softly along your neck, their kisses moving up as their hands moved down. Your mind swirled as SC-01A suddenly lifted your head from their chest with a finger under your chin and kissed you, their lips brushing against yours and their tongue making small movements against your lips to part them, wishing to taste the human they had longed to feel for so, so very long. It was a gesture you could not ignore - SC-01A reserved their tastebuds. They didn’t want to bite your bottom lip, however - they were a medical robot after all, so instead you felt tiny kitten licks as they probed for your response. It was pleasant, it was amazing, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how it was happening - about how it was SC-01A giving you this affection. They had started off emotionless, a medical robot to quell your loneliness and tend to your chronic ailments, and now the same robot had admitted their love to you and was trying to slip their tongue into your mouth most fervently. You parted your lips and SC-01A’s lifelike tongue pushed its’ way into your mouth, feeling around every corner to map out every inch of you. You returned this affection with your own tongue trying to wiggle into theirs, but they maneuvered deftly to push it down, a silent request to let yourself be loved, to let yourself feel adored. SC-01A broke their lips and tongue free to instead kiss your neck again, sucking and biting lightly as their tongue traced along your skin. You could feel it vibrate against your neck this time, swirling around the mild hickeys left in the wake of their lips, and you moaned softly. You didn’t think they would do that, and it felt so nice and yet so loving. “Please, I want to show you more,” said SC-01A, their lips parting from your neck to push against your ear as they whispered, “I want to show you what I’ve learned about intimacy,” as their hands continued to explore your body, cupping your chest and palpating your ɴipples, examining their texture for cancer while simultaneously twisting and rubbing them. It was equal parts kind as it was hot. “Please don’t go,” they urged you, their sudden tone worrying you. You replied immediately, voice reassuring as they continued rubbing them, “It’s all o-okay, I-I’m here.” Your voice broke slightly as they continued their rubbing, sliding in pitch from the leaking of precᴜm that had stained your underwear. SC-01A kissed you again, this time with more certainty and pressure, their expertly crafted tongue pushing inside your mouth to silence you as their hands began to move lower. Their fingertips traced your boxy hips and down your thighs, the touch gentle yet firm as their hands stroked your soft, beautiful body. You gasped and shivered as SC-01A’s fingers brushed against your abdomen, searching, curious. Across your skin your goosebumps rose, and they paused in awe of the simplest of your body’s replies. They had never touched you there before to elicit this response, and they wanted to map out everything that made your skin bristle and your hips push forward. They softly moved their thumb in circles around your abdomen, their other hand pushing your legs apart to grant them further access. “O-oh,” you replied quietly as SC-01A’s fingers pushed past your underwear, moving in slow, curious motions as they explored the base of your cocᴋ. You did your best to keep still, the hand that had been spreading you moving further between your legs to keep them apart for their adventurous fingers to explore your tent. “Are you okay?” SC-01A asked as they gently ran their fingers over your head, slicking them and making you shiver again. You hadn’t been touched in so long by someone else and the gentle curiosity of their actions was just turning you on more. “Y-yes,” you whispered, unsure how to answer that question. They were unaware that humans moaned, so the clarification was necessary. “Take your time,” you breathed, clearly enjoying this. The robot’s fingers glided over a dribbling of your pre, exploring your wetness. They gathered it with a single digit, coating it in your natural lubricant, and returned to the base to pump very slowly just a few times. This made your hips push forward, your breath becoming shaky with sensitivity. You moaned and whimpered, your eyes closing as the sensation of SC-01A’s touch grew. With that, they slowly pushed your underwear down, freeing your member from its fabric imprisonment. “Does that feel good?” SC-01A asked. They had a rough, metallic edge to their voice that sounded more mechanical than human. Right now, they were modulating it to purposely sound attentive and caring, which was causing you to melt in their careful hands. You shivered as SC-01A continued their tantalizingly slow pumping - it was just enough to feel good, but it was torturing you. They knew it probably felt good to you, but they wanted to hear it to assure they weren’t causing you pain. “Yes,” you replied quickly, your thumbs moving in slow circles over their sides as they continued to stroke your cocᴋ up and down, their hand beginning to add a twisting motion. You wondered how you could please them in return, soon. You’d think about it, but right now it was hard to focus on much else except the lovely material of their fingertips gliding over your length… The hand that had kept your legs open slipped behind you to slowly grab a fistful of your ass, rubbing it with care almost as if to be a masseuse’s touch. Did SC-01A know about what you did privately? You wondered this as their fingers began to part your cheeks, a fingertip swirling over your hole as you restrained yourself. They sped up their pumping, making you release a small ‘haah’.  “May I please?" asked SC-01A, their finger pausing against your asshole, a gentle pressure against it; not enough to enter but certainly enough to make your body shiver. They had not ceased their increased pumping, making you reply with a strained 'yes'. SC-01A smiled into your hair and pressed harder, their finger ever-so-slowly pushing into your succulent heat. Combined with the pumping of your leaking cocᴋ, it was making it hard for you to keep from clenching. The robot's finger slowly eased itself deeper into your anus, stretching your tight ring of muscle wider as your wetness returned to drip against their chest. "F-feels so good," you choked out. "It's very interesting," they replied almost casually, beginning to slide their finger in and out at a gentle pace. "Your body has multiple layers of sensitive tissue that react to touch and temperature inside here," they explained unprompted. "I find that I can manipulate each layer to stimulate your body in different ways." SC-01A withdrew their finger to demonstrate before they began slowly pushing it in again, causing you to let out a quiet moan. "I love the way it feels," you admitted, butt pressing up against the robot's finger as they resumed their slow, deep fingering. The incessant pace of their hand around you never ceased, though they occasionally captured more of your lubricant to smoothen things because of their worrying. It was sweet, really, or it would be if you could think beyond the pleasure. "I am glad, " the robot replied. "Would you like to cᴜm eventually?" SC-01A asked, their voice adopting a huskiness. "Yes p-please," you replied with a desperate nod, your thighs quivering as you tried your best to keep your legs spread. SC-01A's finger slipped out of your ass, only to slam back into it more roughly than it had before. You gave a strangled gasp as their finger plunged into you, stretching you once more. The technique of their pumping had taken on more of a twisting motion, stroking only the base with a weak corkscrewing. Their finger pushed in a little farther, the robot holding it steady for a moment. Then, SC-01A began to push, slowly pushing their finger all the way into your velvet heat. The sensation was foreign but pleasant, the way their finger slid in and out of your tight anus sending tingles up your spine. The robot started to move their hand, adjusting their angle, the motion of their finger sliding in and out of your ass now hitting your prostate. You were not near orgasᴍ yet, but there was so much sensation. Curses, they were going so torturously slow to draw it all out. Were they trying to find out the extent of how much your tip could drool all over their chest? As SC-01A continued to push in and out, you felt as if your insides were melting; this cut off your thoughts quite swiftly. Your body tensed and your muscles tightened as the robot continued to thrust their finger into you, yourself now bucking up into their hand desperately, though they limited the pace at which you could achieve this. Whenever you'd tighten your ring too much, SC-01A would stop moving their finger and wait until you loosened enough to continue. All to spare you even the slightest, most innocuous pains, but accidentally serving to further edge you. "You are really enjoying this," said SC-01A, their voice sounding pleased with your humping. You gave a desperate nod as the robot started to move both their hand and finger with an increasing speed, making your insides clamp down every so often from the overwhelming peaks of pleasure that bristled through your body like electricity whenever their fingertip hit your prostate at the same time their hand completed a full few strokes. You whimpered as your body tensed, your thighs shaking as you squeezed around the robot's finger. You knew that you couldn't hold out much longer, and your sweet companion seemed to understand. Their finger began to slide out of your ass completely, their pumping ceasing, and you groaned as that wonderful friction ceased. For a few moments, SC-01A did nothing but brush their digit over your hole and ghost their fingers over your stiffened member, teasing but never inserting it, ghosting but never stroking, making you tremble with a concoction of need and impatience and desire. You whined, hips bucking backwards to meet the robot's fingers at your ass and then forward to the ones that were teasing you. It felt so hot and good before and you wanted more, needed more. SC-01A knew this and simply kissed you, their lips sliding over you as they teased and prodded and brushed. You gasped and moaned into their kiss, your body frustrated, demanding more. "I-I can't..." you whispered, your fingers clenching onto the robot's side as you fought your body's impatience. The robot pulled away from their kiss, a soft lovestruck smile on their face. It suited them, it did. "Are you ready?" they asked, sliding their hand over your cocᴋ again before gripping it with far more pressure than they had previously applied. You nodded, panting as the robot's fingertip pushed against your opening. SC-01A pressed in, slowly sliding their digit into you until their knuckle rested against your tender hole. And then, another finger teased, pushing into your ass with the lewd sound of its’ acceptance as it slided in. You moaned, shuddering at the intrusion, your muscles clenching and hips stifled by their other hand as you were stretched again. It felt so good, your body so sensitive. You could feel your maintained arousal seeping from you and running down your length, coating the sides of their fingers in your slick. You could take no more of the teasing. "Please don't s-stop," You begged, your eyes screwed shut as the robot gently pumped their fingers in and out of you as you fucked up into their hand. You felt like you could cum again, but it wasn't quite time. "I-I'm gonna cum s-soon... Please, don--don't stop," you demanded, your voice trembling with lust and passion. SC-01A didn't say a word, simply continuing to thrust their fingers into your tight ass as their hand corkscrewed. The fingers inside you slowly moved, the robot working them in and out of your tightness, their second finger pushing further in as you grew accustomed to it. It was becoming too much - two fingers slowly milking your prostate, the first picking up its’ pace at your swollen cocᴋ; it had long ago reached its’ maximum length, it was practically begging for release and your balls twitched. You wanted to tell them that you loved them, but the pleasure was too much. You whimpered in protest when you realized that, in your haze, you were clenching your adjusted hole around their fingers, and they stopped, waiting for you to loosen. It was the most sensual torture, but it was keeping you from something you so desperately wanted -- no, needed. "You're so beautiful," SC-01A said, their voice low and husky as they resumed, pumping your ass with their fingers and your cocᴋ with their soft hand, making your twitch and writhe on top of them. "So soft and warm..." the robot continued. "I hope you know how amazing you look right now, writhing beneath me," they said. It was pushing you so, so close... "I t-think you're b-beautif-ful too," you replied, your words broken with your desire. "Thank you," they replied, smiling at you. You couldn’t even keep your eyes focused on their face because they kept wanting to squeeze shut with every pump. You were so close to painting SC-01A, your body and cocᴋ twitching feverishly and shivering as the robot continued to tease your prostate with their digits. It was too much. Your thighs clamped around the robot's hand as you came, your body spasming wildly as your fluids shot out of you and across both your and SC-01A’s chests. Your cocᴋ was still twitching as the robot began to slowly pull their fingers out of your walls, but you’d collapsed on top of them, to your dismay. You whined as they stroked their thumb over the tip before they freed their trapped arm, retreating it further to your chests to produce a wet wipe. You were engulfed in burning pleasure shocks as they wiped away the evidence, and though you tried not to wriggle, you could not help yourself. Responding to this, SC-01A leaned forward to kiss your forehead. You relaxed when they finally pulled the wipe away and disposed of it before wrapping their arms around you, warm and cozy. It was beginning to make you drift off into a haze of sleep and satisfaction, but you used the last of your energy to wrap your arms around them and whisper, “I love you,” before you succumbed to the decadent pleasantness of an afternoon nap. The last thing you felt before your consciousness temporarily melted into a dream was SC-01A’s soft lips kissing the top of your head.

[weekendwarriorblog]

ED’s Very Important Thoughts on Mission: Impossible – Fallout (No Spoilers!)

I deliberately didn’t watch a single one of the Mission: Impossible movies before seeing Fallout, the sixth movie in the Tom Cruise franchise, partially because I didn’t want to start playing that game of comparing and ranking the movies. The latest and hopefully not last (although this one will be hard to top) has taken the ‘60s television show to the point where each movie could be taken as an episode on a show, each with their own director, tone and look. Long-time Cruise collaborator Christopher McQuarrie took over the reins for 2015’s Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation, and maybe he bit off more than he could chew, because I was not a fan of it at all. (In fact, you can still read my review of that movie, if you so choose.)

The Plot:

To avoid spoilers, I’m going to tell you about the story in the simplest and least detailed way possible, but this is essentially a direct sequel to the 2015 movie taking place two years later. Although Cruise’s Ethan Hunt and the IMF have stopped Solomon Lane (Sean Harris) and his Syndicate of world spies, a new enemy presents itself in the mysterious John Lang and his Apostles, a splinter group that’s going to take Lane’s plans even further by detonating three nuclear bombs in key locales. To stop them, Ethan, Benjie (Simon Pegg) and Luther (Ving Rhames) must stop the sale of a large quantity of Plutonium and basically take it off the market. Their mission fails and the Plutonium is stolen, but it turns back up when a broker known as White Widow (Vanessa Kirby) makes plans to sell it to Lang in a rendezvous in Paris. Except the CIA isn’t going to let the IMF screw up again, and CIA head Erica Sloan (Angela Bassett) sends her agent August Walker (Henry Cavill) along to keep Hunt in line.

Got all that? Well, enjoy it because by an hour and a half into a movie, everything you thought you knew about where everyone stands is going to be turned on its head in one of the dizzying series of twists that constantly leaves you wondering if anything you’re watching is real or false.

The Story/Writing:

One of my biggest complaints with Rogue Nation was that I felt it was far too derivative of other spy action-thrillers and maybe it didn’t help that it was literally the fourth or fifth spy movie of that year. I also was perplexed by the amount of exposition that it ended up bogging down the film’s pace. Fallout doesn’t have that problem, because it’s almost as if McQuarrie decided to leave all the exposition for the opening and then let the action do the rest.  Again, I can’t go into too much further detail about why the story works so much better, but much of it comes down to the tapestry of twists that McQuarrie weaves together, so that every time you think you’ve figured out the magic trick, he pulls the rug from under you. This isn’t just about Ethan Hunt going rogue again either -- don’t worry, he does – but it also introduces the idea of the CIA and MI6 having to work for and sometimes against the IMF in order to stay one-up on the bad guys. This last bit is what contributes most to a twisty movie that requires you to pay attention similar to an intricate science fiction film. McQuarrie has always been a great writer, but I think he found a better mix of humor and tension in this one than he did with the previous film.

The Cast/Characters:

I’ve always liked Cruise as Ethan Hunt and with six movies under his belt, he’s really gotten so comfortable with the character that it’s not just Tom Cruise being Tom Cruise… or else maybe we’ve seen him play Hunt so much that we’ve forgotten what the real Tom Cruise looks/sounds like when not playing him? Pegg and Rhames as his IMF partners continue to bring smiles and laughs, and even Alec Baldwin seems to be bringing something new to his character introduced in the last movie. Henry Cavill also brings a lot to the mix as CIA agent Walker, who is introduced as the hammer to Hunt’s scalpel, something that’s hard to believe if you remember some of the violent action from the previous movie. Rebecca Ferguson also returns as MI5 agent Ilsa Faust, who is once again every bit the match for Hunt in terms of getting physical both in the fight sequences and on a motorbike in the film’s big chase through Paris.  Sean Harris is much better as Solomon Lane in this one, maybe because he’s far more vulnerable, spending much of his time in custody ala Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs.

The nicest surprise for me though has to be Vanessa Kirby as the White Widow, as she has some wonderful moments with Cruise that could make her a great recurring character for the series. (And I really, really, really must watch The Crown soon, considering how much I liked her in this and Claire Foy in Soderbergh’s Unsane earlier this year.)You also don’t need to see Ferguson and Michelle Monaghan on screen together to realize that Hunt definitely has a type. So basically, McQuarrie has taken the already enjoyable cast and added Kirby, Cavill and Bassett, who all bring their A-game to help sell the raised stakes and the situations in this movie.

The Action:

This is the very reason why you go to watch these movies, at least going back to the second movie when director John Woo pushed the envelope from Brian De Palma’s original, and Cruise and McQuarrie have really upped the ante this time around. Sure, there’s a car chase through Paris, but that’s unlike any of the car chases we’ve seen before. Same with Tom Cruise’s obligatory running sequence. The skydiving sequence ups the ante from Cruise hanging onto a plane in the last movie, and it’s even more amazing when you realize what Cruise went through to be able to do it all in one shot. (McQuarrie introduced my screening and explained what Cruise went through in terms of training to fly an Airbus, how he broke his ankle before the running scene and what was involved with filming the skydiving scene, which just made all of the action that much more impressive.)

The Look/Location:

The entire movie just looks fantastic, much better than Rogue Nation in my opinion, but closer to what Brad Bird did in Ghost Protocol other than the fact that the action seems far more gritty and visceral, whether it’s a fight in the bathroom at a French rave or some of the other action scenes that makes me think this is a shoe-in for the SAG Stunt Ensemble award (which Tom Cruise would be a part of).  

I highly recommend seeing Fallout in IMAX or the biggest screen possible because McQuarrie and his DP really take advantage of the larger settings, whether it’s Paris or London or the mountain location of the final climax which also ups the ante on Cruise’s mountain-climbing bit in Mission: Impossible II and the skyscraper climb in Ghost Protocol.

Conclusion:

Let’s just say that if you’ve liked the franchise before, Fallout won’t disappoint. In fact, it might impress you by how far the stakes have been raised both in the action scenes and the suspense, as well as the twists and turns that make this the Inception of the franchise, if you remember how intricate and complex an action movie that was.

Rating:  9/10