#this one's really close swearsies

[loetise]

she's actually kind of identical to my allie sim

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays - Part 6

Summary: In which Spencer gets the happy ending he deserves. "Are—are you laughing?"

WC: 3.7k

TW: ok THIS is the final to FtH swearsies, Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, swear words bc its me, at first there's angst and then there's fluff, sad and good revelations, a little blood just a bit :D, Brad being a brad, happy 1 yr to my first mini series 🥳

—

'Cause I don't care when I'm with my baby, yeah All the bad things disappear Yeah, you're making me feel like maybe I am somebody I can deal with the bad nights when I'm with my baby, yeah Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh (Oh yeah, yeah, yeah)

—

You're in a living hell.

It's awkward. And you're used to awkward—it comes with the territory of being friends with Spencer and generally you ignore it. But this is a new level of awkwardness, the kind that sits heavy in the air, so heavy it makes you want to sink into the floor or fade into the background. Anything to escape the situation.

But you can't because this is for Spencer, you are here for Spencer, and the day you leave him behind is the day you die.

So like a good partner, you steel yourself.

And you expected nothing less. Of course it's awkward and kind of weird. (Okay, very weird—very very weird.)

At first, silence stretches across the table, a stark contrast to the pulsating music, technicolor strobe lights, and the quaking dance floor. Eyes and bodies involuntarily shift around the table, and you don’t need to be a profiler to know everyone's uncomfortable. Nervous.

Then the ice finally cracks, thanks to the combined effort of Alexa and Harper, but conversation is forced. You want to gag.

It doesn't help that Spencer isn't as eager to build bridges as they are. They’ve made a valiant attempt to get to know him the last several minutes and most of the jocks join in every so often. Really, they are trying and you appreciate it.

Except Brad. What a prick.

You bite your tongue whenever his eyes meet yours. He's clearly annoyed, expression flat like he'd rather be anywhere else. And he watches Spencer, as if he’s waiting for something.

Yet he sits quietly, and when he does speak it’s to make snide comments, not contributing much else to conversation. Unless you count dragging out half-hearted chuckles contributions. He's not even funny.

Honestly, it's like he's asking to get clocked.

But your dislike for him cements when he makes a biting remark at Spencer. Nothing blatantly offensive, only underhanded jabs and scathing comments disguised as compliments or concern.

Spencer, the man (your man at the moment, you cheer) doesn't bat an eye, somehow used to it even after all these years. You can't deny you're impressed; it's taking every bit of strength to not throw yourself across the table.

So you elect to ignore Brad. If Spencer’s taking the high road, then you suppose you will too.

Now, if you can just… move this along. Lighten the mood, at least.

But the questions are superficial at best, and Spencer's answers are curt to match. You try to pick up the slack, but your efforts are a mere dent in the tense atmosphere.

Fuck, you're going to need a chiropractor—this is the most you’ve ever carried a conversation.

Meanwhile, Spencer’s eyes dart around like clockwork. Your heart twinges, noting every flinch and every clench of his jaw whenever someone gets too close. Like an old schoolmate passing by or a caterer offering whatever’s on their tray. Like he's prepared to be jumped.

Yeah, awkward is an understatement.

"Care for a drink?"

You jump, twisting in your seat. Over your shoulder, a caterer offers you their tray, martini glasses filled with a cream colored liquid, rims dipped in… frosting and sprinkles?

They lean closer to you, not wanting to shout over the music. "No offense but y'all look like you could use one."

Harper cuts in before you can answer. "We’ll take those, thank you," the older woman snags two glasses. One for herself and one for you apparently as she slides it over.

You blink at it, then at her.

"You should try these," Harper leans closer to you, offering you a friendly smile. Her makeup, bright and tasteful, glitter in the light. "They’re Sugar Cookie Cocktails. I have no clue what's in them but they are delicious. It might help with the whole, ya know—" Taking a sip, she rolls her eyes, a subtle gesture around the table.

Yeah. You know.

But like muscle memory, you shake your head, "Thank you, but I don't drink on the job."

“On the job?” Harper frowns. “Are FBI agents on call? Like doctors?”

Whoops.

On your other side, Spencer stiffens and you glance at him, laughing her off, “No! Sorry, it’s a… force of habit.” It really is, you’re too used to not drinking on the field, undercover and all that. It’s protocol!

But you're on a mission and you're making progress. Slow, painfully awkward progress but progress nonetheless. Alcohol is the last thing you need (a fucking lie).

“It's okay.”

You frown at Spencer, “Are you sure? You hate driving.”

“Yeah, you deserve to enjoy yourself,” He smiles at you, and it warms you more than you’d like to admit. “Driving is a small price to pay.”

You purse your lips, watching, waiting, giving him the chance to retract his statement, but not a hint of uncertainty passes over his features. “Okay, if you're sure.” You sip daintily at the glass before noticing Harper's soft gaze on you. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious. “What?”

“You two are the cutest,” She grins, resting her chin in her hand. “You said you guys met at work?”

You nod.

Like bait, Harper and Alexa latch on and the interrogation begins.

Spencer watches, fascinated as you take it all in stride, every question returned with rehearsed answers. On the plane, Spencer and you had predicted what kind of questions would be thrown at you, and though you had to make up some details, there wasn't much else to do. You describe your life together almost exactly as it’s played out, enough without prompting follow-up questions. You fall into the role of his partner flawlessly. Almost perfectly.

Spencer wonders what you'd be like if you were really together.

But Brad. Fucking Brad just had to throw you off your game.

“How'd you know?”

You blink, “I'm sorry?”

“How'd you know Spencer was the one for you?” Harper sighs dreamily, meeting Alexa’s eyes as she reaches across the table to her. She meets her halfway, intertwining their hands and returning her smile. “I didn't even know I was into Alex until after we graduated.”

You pause and Spencer turns at his name, unable to suppress his curiosity. This wasn’t one of the questions you practiced.

And as you consider a plausible lie, you hear Brad mutter under his breath, something about how you're probably not that into Spencer. Or how you're probably this close to breaking up with him. Something along those lines.

Jokes on him. You’re about to end this man’s whole career.

You don't think twice as you set your empty glass down, stamping down your irritation. "How'd I know Spence was the one for me? I'm pretty sure it was that time we were on our way back home."

You remember the moment clear as day. There was no grand gesture or romantic revelation. It was an abduction case, a little girl taken from her home, and it was hard on everyone but nothing you haven’t seen before. It was another case in another state. But on the way home, as you slouched in your chair, you relaxed beside Spencer, half-listening as he read The Little Prince aloud in its original french. Despite his shit accent, his voice alone dripped like honey, warm and soothing and soft that you dozed off onto his shoulder.

He fell asleep too, you remember fondly. You teetered on the edge of sleep when you felt him rest his cheek atop your head, but not before hearing a wisp of his french drawl. You were too drowsy, the words too low to catch, but as you sunk into him, you knew.

So you let yourself fall.

"Yeah, I knew then, that he was the one," You smile to yourself, too lost in the memory to notice the way Spencer gazes at you with hearts in his eyes and love in his chest.

Because he remembers that moment like it was yesterday. He flushes, recalling the line, his lips grazing your crown as he uttered in french, “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.”

He wasn’t even on that page.

“What about you, Spencer?”

“Hm?” He jerks back to reality, turning to Alexa.

She raises an eyebrow, “How did you know (Your Name) was the one?”

"Oh—uh—same," He says absentmindedly, still reeling over your anecdote.

"Anywho," Your voice comes slow, casual, as if trying to play off the memory. You scoot your chair back. "Excuse me, I'm going to grab another drink. Be right back, babe."

For a split second, you meet Spencer's surprised gaze, face all rosy and cute and a part of him hopes it's not from the lighting. But then you shoot him a half-hearted smile, and before he can respond, you're already out of your seat, leaving him to deal with his ex-classmates.

Too caught up in the moment, neither of you notice Brad following after you.

At the open-bar, you take deep breaths, cursing yourself for that moment of weakness. You broke the one promise you made to Spencer: you left him behind.

You piece of shit.

But you knew if you stayed any longer, your face would've exploded in front of him, and you'd never recover from that kind embarrassment. Fanning yourself with your freehand, you wave down the bartender. Hopefully, by the time they finish your drink, you'd cool down enough to return to your date.

Fake. Fake date, you remind yourself.

It occurs to you that in a way, like Cinderella, the second the night ends this'll all disappear. You'll head home like nothing happened between you two, and you'll go back to being awkward-but-close friends. Maybe even a little more than that after tonight. Companions? Closer friends?

Which is fine. You're here as a favor to Spencer. You're here because you're friends.

You've never hated a word so much.

"Just a whiskey, thanks."

You grimace, recognizing the raspy voice. Like the guy smoked one too many cigarettes. "Brad, you're here. Yeah."

If he notices your sarcasm, he ignores it. "Ya know, a real man gets his date a drink."

"Spencer doesn't drink."

"Then he ain't a real man."

Your jaw clenches. "Is there a reason you're talking to me? Because if there isn't, I'd like to go back to my lovely date now."

"Don't worry, I won't keep you too long," He shrugs, lips quirking up into the nasty sneer you've grown familiar with. "I just want to know how much he's paying you."

You deadpan. "Excuse me?"

"How much? Because there's no way he could have scored a number like you in his life, not without some incentive."

"Spencer is my boyfriend."

"Uhuh. Listen, just tell me and he won't have to know," Brad says, ignoring you, "It's wild though. Never in a million years did I think Lil' Spencer would have enough money to buy himself a fake date. Feels like just yesterday we stripped him naked and left him tied to that goal post."

Stripped? Goal post? Your eyes narrow, "You what?"

The hiss in your tone goes unnoticed. "He didn't tell you? Back in high school, he had this stupid crush on Alexa, so we pulled a prank on him, invited him to the field after school." He shakes his head, like he pitied Spencer, "Poor kid was naive enough to think Alexa could return his feelings. So much for being a genius."

As Brad recounts the "prank" in detail, your gaze flickers over his shoulder. Spencer sits at the table, slouching as he converses with Alexa, until your breath hitches when she says something and he smiles. A real smile, wide and toothy that his eyes crinkle and he ducks his head, abashed. It's the first genuine one he's had since they arrived.

And it's because of Alexa.

"I'm not sure how long he was left in the field, but it was at least a few hours," Brad says as you're dragged back to reality—a top that feels two sizes smaller, cheesy Christmas music blasting overhead, and blood roaring in your ears.

Your thoughts catch like a wildfire as you imagine 12 year-old Spencer Reid in high school, alone, tortured, and for what? Being the smartest kid in school?

Spencer, who'd rather sacrifice himself than see his friends and family hurt. Who's intelligent and logical yet continues to romanticize life despite the many times it's kicked him down. Who sees the best in everyone, even in the most depraved Unsubs.

But you're not Spencer.

Your eyes burn. Your vision blurs. And before you realize it, your hand's fisting the lapel of Brad's suit.

—

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm surprised you came," Alexa says after you leave, leaning towards him so as not to raise her voice.

Spencer finally takes his eyes off you, frowning, "What do you mean?"

"We were worried," She looks around the table. The tension died down enough that everyone's chatting again, yelling over the music and drinking, meekly sipping at their glasses. No more side-eyeing each other, trying to get someone to speak up, break the ice. Not exactly relaxed, but it's something. A somber look crosses her face. "None of us had a way to contact you, so when the invites were sent out we didn't think you'd show up."

"Honestly, I wasn't planning to," He admits.

She hums with understanding, "What made you change your mind?"

"My friends," Spencer says without hesitation, fidgeting with his hands. "Although, (Your Name) was the one that made me commit."

"Well, I'm grateful for them. You're a lucky man, Spencer."

He nods, thinking back to a few days ago. You drizzled in snowflakes in the middle of the office. You scribbling notes about him and his life like he's giving the most interesting college lecture, taking your arrangement so seriously even he finds it comical. You patiently wiping his tears away in the dark of the library.

He chuckles, "Yes, I am very lucky."

Then screams echo across the gym.

Without missing a beat, Spencer shoots up from his chair, the FBI agent in him taking over as he pushes his way through the crowd. Drunken shouts mix with the Christmas music, and when he breaks through he nearly falls over.

Your back to him, you stride towards Brad, who's practically flat on the floor. Blood pours from his nose.

It's as you haul him up by the collar that shakes Spencer from his stupor. He rushes to you, voice dripping with concern, "(Your Name)!"

Your shoulders jolt, fist mid air as Brad's head lolls back, and like a child caught redhanded, you slowly look over your shoulder at him. Your face is contorted, teeth barred, brows furrowed, nostrils flaring like an angry dragon. He half-expects you to start breathing fire. And your eyes—

Gleam with unshed tears.

Without a second thought, he gently takes your hand, and you don't fight him as he tugs you out the gym and through the front doors of the school, hands intertwined. Even as you step outside, breaths coming out in clouds, the wind prickling through your clothes, he grips your hand tight.

You will your heart to calm down.

Tears muddle your vision as you stare at the ground, waiting for Spencer to say something—anything. Shout, reprimand, lecture you. It's the least you deserve.

But to your surprise, he takes a tentative step closer, and you wince as he lifts your hand up into view, examining your bloodied knuckles.

"It doesn't look like you fractured anything," He says after a beat. He meets your gaze, the corners of his lips quirking up, "Except maybe Brad's nose."

His joke flies over your head.

"I'm sorry, Spencer!" you wail, unable to hold back your tears.

He jerks back, startled, "Sorry? For what?" The idea of you wronging him not once crossed his mind.

"For making a mess of tonight. I left you behind—"

"I said I don't mind you drinking."

"Then I punched Brad—"

"Knowing him, he probably deserved it."

"And just when you started getting along with your classmates," You hiccup. Your voice has grown nasally from your stuffed nose, and the tear tracks on your cheeks glisten in the pale light. You must look like a mess.

Spencer thinks you look cute.

"Actually, I'm not sorry," You add, trying to regain some composure.

"Oh?"

You wipe your nose with your free hand, "For punching Brad, I mean. I don't know how you did it, Spence, but I couldn't take it. I get there are things you don't want to talk about. That's fine. I respect that, but he bragged to me, like he took pride in abusing a child—"

His brow rises. You know?

All Spencer can do is wait, speechless as you continue your tirade. You rant about Brad, the group, all the horrid things they did to him.

"With that being said, you can drag me back in there but I refuse to apologize, especially to that walking pile of garbage and—" You raise an eyebrow, chest heaving.

Spencer's pursed lips falter as he struggles to keep a straight face. It pains him, but he drops your hand to cover a snort.

You blink once, twice. "Are—are you laughing?"

"No, I—" He is, his laughter slowly growing louder and louder until his stomach hurts. Of course you punched someone in his defense. Of course you did. What else could it have been?

Spencer grins so wide that it almost doesn’t fit on his face.

He's so in love with you.

And he's loved before; he loved Maeve after all, but this is nothing like that.

Loving Maeve was like watching the sunrise. Watching from the comfort of his apartment, a familiar space, something he had control over. A memory to be tucked away, look back on fondly. When he fell he knew it—the fall—he knew every inch he gave and let and when he fell it was the softest landing. No spontaneity or surprise. It was expected. How could he not have fallen? It was almost natural.

It was a fleeting memory and that's okay.

But loving you comes just as naturally. There's nothing fleeting about you; he's lucky enough to see you everyday, a permanent fixture in his life.

If Maeve was the sunrise, you're the sun, the moon, the stars. You're warmth and light and sometimes you shine so brightly he needs sunglasses. You're ethereal and multifaceted; he's grateful to even be in your presence. And you're ever changing, never boring him, always surprising and delightful no matter where you are.

You're you.

A flash of lightning. Spencer’s heart thunders in his ears.

There's a French idiom he read once, coup de foudre, literally translates to a stroke of lightning, but it also means love at first sight. And Spencer loves French, the romanticism of the language, the culture, its beauty. They equate love to a lightning strike, and he never truly understood that until he met you.

Because falling for you wasn't gentle or soft or expected. But natural like lightning in a storm. When he fell it was like dozing off and jerking awake, realizing too late he fell, so far gone that you're already there to catch him. It's uncontrollable, unexpected. It hit him before he even realized.

If this isn't love, he doesn’t know what is.

Finally catching his breath, Spencer turns back to you. You stare at him, confused yet patient as he takes your hand again, and your eyes widen when he pulls out the handkerchief you gave him earlier. He presses it to your bruised knuckles.

"Are you okay?" You sound genuinely concerned.

Spencer smiles. "Yep. Never better."

"Are you sure? Because I—"

"I love you."

He says it so casually that you respond in kind, "I love you too?"

Spencer shakes his head, "No, (Your Name), I am in love with you." He meets your eyes, pouring out all the love he's held for you over the years, hoping you see it.

You do, and it knocks the air out of you. "Oh."

"Oh."

An audible silence settles over you as he continues to wipe off the blood, and just as he finishes, about to pull away, you grab his hand.

“Do-do you mean it?” You ask quietly, like you’re scared of the answer.

He beams at you, and he knows he's never spoken more clearly in his life, “Yes. I am very much in love you, (Your Name) (Your Last‌ Name).”

Your burst out sobbing again. Spencer panics.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know this wasn't a good time for you," He stammers, fumbling between comforting you or backing away. You guffaw as he puts his hands up defensively, as if he did something wrong.

"No, it's not that," You sniff, yanking him back into you. Reflexively, his hands find your waist as yours finds his shoulders. You smile through the tears. "I'm just really happy right now."

His eyes glimmer with hope. "Does that mean...?"

"Yes, Spencer Reid," You giggle, smoothing down his jacket, and as brown eyes meet yours, you return every bit of love you have for him and more, "I am very much in love with you too."

His face lights up. You wish you had an eidetic memory.

"Can I—" He looks sheepish. "Can I kiss you?"

He's so adorable you want to scream. "Yes, please," you nod.

He tugs you close before hesitating; you look at Spencer and he looks back, scanning your face, waiting for the ball to drop. Waiting for you to take back everything you said. Because there's no way he gets to be happy. Not after everything the universe has put him through. He almost can't believe it.

But then your lips find his, and it's like the stars aligned. He relaxes against you, hugging you tight, your hands coming around his neck as you find a rhythm. You wrap yourselves around each other, the cool night growing warmer, the storm sounding distant as you move in tandem. Lost in each other, you both forget why you're there in the first place. Everything else seems meaningless.

It's soft and sweet and so much better than he ever imagined that he can't help smiling into the kiss. You ask him to stop so you can kiss him again.

Spencer retracts his previous statement.

This is the universe rewarding him.

—

AN: Status: Finished - 7/5. Closed ending unlocked!

I was reading over FtH bc tis the season and all that and I thought wow Im NOT about this ending. Then I was going through the notes I made writing FtW and I was like damn I want to use this so heres the original ending I planned for before changing my mind bc it seemed like a lot.

I left the to forgive or not to forgive aspect open, but its heavily implied that Spencer doesn't forgive them in the end. Just a reminder you don't have to forgive the ppl that hurt you to move on.

This is probably going to be one of the few (v few) times i even mention Maeve in my writing. Don't expect her to show up again anytime soon blegh 😒

Hope you enjoyed! And happy holidays!! 😘

[spaceskam]

the word of your body

draft 35 for @winged-fool, @callieramics, and @hmd023! same universe as this 

warning: insecurity and slightly uncomfortable sexual situation (it’s resolved and nothing goes far at all, swearsies)

ao3

It was weird knowing that the only person you could ever actually be with didn't have the same regulations.

Alex watched with unmatched jealousy as Michael mindlessly followed a girl that walked past with his eyes. He knew he couldn't actually be jealous. They weren't together. They held hands and hugged, but nothing more and even that was only in small doses. Even so, that was only because Alex couldn't touch anyone else. Alex knew that was why.

He also knew Michael did actually like him–he'd made that clear–but he never pushed for anything more. But Alex knew this was his only shot at not being alone forever. What were the chances he'd find another age-appropriate, attractive, invincible guy? Unlikely.

"Hey," Alex urged, reaching out to grab his hand. Michael snapped his gaze back toward him, smile intact. "You wanna come over?"

"Come over? Like, to your house?" Michael clarified. Alex nodded. He wasn't entirely sure this was a good idea, to just be so forward, but Michael was always forward so it felt like his turn. He wanted him. He had to make that clear.

"Yeah," Alex said. Michael squeezed his hand.

"Do I get to check out your room?" he asked, smirking all confidently. Alex couldn't help notice another pretty girl walk by them. Michael didn't even look her way. He smiled and nodded.

“Yeah,” Alex said, slowly dragging his thumb over the sensitive skin on Michael’s palm. He delighted in the way his shoulders shook just a little in response, his cheeks flushing as he continued to smile. 

“What are we waiting for?”

The entire walk to Alex’s house consisted of him doing his best to hype himself up. He didn’t know why he was even nervous. It didn’t feel like how everyone else who got touched casually by people every day. They had all the time in the world to pick and choose and build themselves up to whatever they wanted. Alex, on the other hand, had only been touched by one person in years. He was eager for more. He wanted it. Why wait?

Alex was more than a little thankful when he saw that his mother wasn't home. He hadn't actually told her about Michael's existence yet considering he himself had only two weeks to process it. Alex had touched him and no one had died. That was something he wanted to keep to himself for just a little while.

He led Michael down to the basement that was his bedroom and tried to get rid of her nerves as he watched Michael acclimate to the space with ease. He fit there, maybe even a little too well. Alex smiled and tilted his head, twisting the tension out of his neck. He was going to do this. It was going to be amazing.

“So, what do you wanna do? Watch a movie?” Michael suggested. He wiggled his eyebrows a little and added, “We could cuddle?”

Alex took a deep, controlled breath and decided he wasn’t going to be embarrassed. This wasn’t something to be embarrassed by. This was normal. He could finally be normal.

“Touch me,” Alex requested. Michael blinked a few times, his smile falling as he took in Alex’s words. He tried not to squirm under his gaze and kept his head held high.

“For real?” Michael asked softly. Alex nodded. Michael didn’t move any closer. “Where?”

“Uh,” he breathed, “Anywhere?”

Michael lightened the mood by letting out a soft little laugh and nodded, taking a step closer. He grabbed Alex’s hands again which wasn’t anything new at this point, but still made him feel like he was going to explode with joy. Someone else’s skin was just... so much.

He watched in fascination as Michael moved his hands up to Alex’s jacket, gently pushing it off his shoulders. His heart was slamming in his chest all while Michael just ran his hands over his bare arms. Then he took a step closer and pressed a kiss into the inside of Alex’s wrist. 

“You okay?” Michael asked, eyeing him probably because he’d stopped breathing.

“Yeah,” Alex all but squeaked out. Why was he so nervous? Michael raised an eyebrow and laughed, pressing another kiss to the inside of his elbow. 

“You wanna just cuddle? That involves touching. We could watch a movie,” Michael said again, Alex shook his head as he tried to think of a way to make it clear what he actually wanted. He wanted Michael to be his. 

“Kiss me,” Alex said. Micahel again eyed him like he was unsure.

“Really?” Michael asked, “Because I don’t want you forcing yourself to do stuff just because I’m the only one you’ve met so far that didn’t die.” Alex had to give him that, he did manage to make it sound less depressing.

He stepped a bit closer, raising his hand to touch Michael’s cheek. He hadn’t actually touched him anywhere other than his hands. It was soft and a little stubbly in some places, but it was warm and Alex gravitated closer. He moved his hand a little and slid it into his hair. They moved closer until their foreheads met in the middle, Alex’s hands on his face and Michael’s on his waist.

“I like you. Not because you can touch me, but because I like you,” Alex told him, “But the fact that you can’t doesn’t hurt your case.”

Michael smiled and pulled him a little closer, their noses bumping and their chests pressing flush together. It was a little like a hug, just closer, and Alex was feeling a little overwhelmed in the best way. He wanted to kiss him.

“I just... I want you,” Alex added, a little softer this time. 

Michael’s thumbs slipped beneath his shirt, pressing into the skin of his hips. It was so small, so subtle, but Alex couldn’t help the gasp that fell from his mouth. It was like his entire body was on high alert. Which, it probably was. Michael grinned and rubbed his nose against Alex’s.

“How does it feel?” Alex asked quietly after adjusting to the feeling of his thumbs on his hips.

“Hmm?”

“How does it feel when I touch you?” he wondered, “When I touch people, their heart stops. Even though you’re invincible, it’s still happening to you, right? Like you can still feel it, can’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Michael agreed, a small, shy smile overcoming his face like it was something he was embarrassed about despite it being Alex’s fault. “It’s sort of, um, feels like static electricity. Like a little jolt and my heart beats a little faster to overcompensate.”

Alex froze. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he whispered, “I kinda like it.”

“Oh,” Alex hummed, tilting his head just a little. He wasn’t sure if he should be the one to kiss him or not. He’d never done it before. The closest he got to it was books and movies and shows, watching other people and hoping that if the time came for him he wouldn’t fuck it up. “Kiss me?”

Michael looked at him in that way that he wasn’t really used to being looked at. In fact, he had never been looked at like that. Like he mattered and was special and was chosen. Alex gently traced his jaw with his thumb.

Slowly, slowly, Michael moved forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was soft and short, but it still had Alex’s head spinning. His whole body felt hot by that one little kiss. It had him smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

“You are my new favorite person to kiss,” Michael said. Alex’s eyebrows shot up and he laughed.

“What? How? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, but you’re so cute and reactive,” he teased, giving him a little squeeze that made Alex’s chest feel like it was going to burst.

“That’s because I have no idea what I’m doing,” Alex said. Michael grinned all proudly and slowly started walking them back towards his bed. Alex felt his nerves flare up again.

“I guess I’ll just have to teach you,” he said. 

In a pretty swift moment that felt way too rehearsed, Michael had him on his back on the bed with Michael partially on top of him. About a second later, he was kissing him. Alex followed his lead as best he could despite the fact that he wanted to scream from excitement. It was a type of sensory overload he didn’t know was a thing, every inch of his skin just being totally and utterly aware of him. 

Michael kissed him with a closed mouth at first and then he parted his lips with a hand staying put on Alex’s chin which just felt like a lot more than it was. He was on his side beside Alex who was on his back, leaning over him just a bit. Then his tongue slipped into Alex’s mouth and the entire mood was shattered by Alex laughing.

“Oh, that’s funny?” Michael asked, smiling down at him as he tried his best to contain himself. But that was a really fucking weird feeling. Not a bad one, just weird.

“Sorry!” Alex laughed, “It’s just, it’s like—Have you ever had oysters?” Michael’s eyes went wide and he erupted into laughter as well.

“Oh my God, I kiss like eating oysters?” 

“It’s slimy!”

Michael fell onto his back, body shaking with laughter as he covered his face with his hands. Alex rolled closer to reconnect. He didn’t want the touching to end.

“Sorry,” he said again, trying to be serious as he petted Michael’s chest.

“No, no, it’s fine, I get it,” Michael laughed, moving his hands away, “Do you want me to not do that again?” 

“No, do it, I just need to get used to it,” Alex said. Michael licked his lips and shook his head. 

“C’mere then.”

Alex pressed himself into Michael’s side, those knots in his stomach tightening and loosening with each random kiss and touch he gave him. He adjusted to the feeling of those kisses and they very quickly stopped being funny. In fact, he couldn’t get enough.

He pressed himself into him, body aching for more. He wanted to be overwhelmed with his skin. Was that so hard to ask?

Michael pushed his hand into Alex’s back before moving it under his shirt. Nerves shot through him and he pulled away for a second, looking at him for a moment. He was gorgeous. He wanted him to be his.

So he sat up and took off his shirt.

“Okay,” Michael breathed, pushing himself up on his elbows. His eyes dragged over Alex’s chest and, as scared as he was, that felt good. 

“Touch me,” Alex said again. Michael huffed a laugh, smirking slightly as sat up completely. He reached out and Alex’s mind short-circuited.

Alex knew that he probably looked like an idiot, lips parted and eyes zoned out as he solely focused on the feeling of his hands on his chest. He gulped softly as his callused hand slowly dragged down his side and landed on his hip. The other hand slid over his chest, his thumb grazing over his nipple way too deliberately before moving to his neck and into his hair. Michael leaned closer and kissed his lips and then his cheek, his jaw, his neck.

“You okay?” Michael asked, voice soft and breath hot against Alex’s skin. His eyes were closed, continuously repeating to himself to calm down in his mind. There was no reason to be nervous.

“Yeah, why?” Alex asked.

“Your heart is beating really hard,” he said, head still bowed to kiss on Alex’s shoulder. “Yeah, harder.”

“Sorry,” Alex said, leaning away from just a little. Not too much. He didn’t want to stop being touched.

“No, it’s okay,” Michael said, moving away. Alex made an involuntary noise of protest which just made Michael smile. “Let’s even the score.” Alex watched with attentive eyes as he shed his own shirt. That was way better than movies. “Touch me.”

Alex smiled and shook his head. With shaky hands, he reached out and pressed his palms against his pecs. Michael placed his hands over Alex’s and then surged forward, kissing him senseless. He found himself laid on his back again with Michael fully on top him, bare chest to chest.

It was amazing and terrifying all rolled into one. He kissed him and he kissed him and he kissed him. Alex waited to get used to it, waited to get used to being touched like this, but it didn’t happen. He didn’t know what to make of that. It just kept feeling like his stomach was tying in knots or dropping or being fucking chucked across the room.

And then Michael went for his waistband.

Without even thinking, Alex’s hand snapped to his wrist and mentally cursed himself for it. He waited to be questioned and immediately started preparing his speech to say he wanted it, but it never came. Michael just moved his hands back to the previously defined Okay Zone without question.

“Sorry,” Alex said anyway. That was what got him to pull away.

“Sorry for what?” Michael asked. Alex swallowed hard.

“You can touch me there, didn’t mean to stop you,” he insisted. Michael stared at him for a moment.

“Alex, we don’t have—“

“No, I want to,” Alex clarified, giving a nod. Michael continued to stare at him while Alex gave the most encouraging smile he could muster. Yeah, he was nervous, but that was okay. Everyone was nervous.

“Are you sure?” Michael asked. Alex nodded. “Okay.”

Cautiously, he leaned back in to kiss him. Alex focused on that, focused on the fact that this was the only person he could ever be with. What was the point of being nervous when he was the only one?

They kissed for a few more seconds and Michael’s hand slowly started edging towards his pants again. However, before Alex could even have any type of reaction, he rolled off him and straight off the bed. Alex watched with confused eyes as he stood to his feet.

“You want to because you want to now or you want to because you want to eventually so why not now?” Michael asked. Alex blinked a few times.

“What’s the difference?”

“There’s a big one,” Michael said with a small laugh that had nothing to do with anything being funny. Alex sat up, cold and sort of self-conscious. He’d gotten so used to wearing long sleeves, jackets, gloves, that being shirtless while just simply talking made his nervousness skyrocket. “I don’t want you forcing yourself to do anything, Alex.”

“I want you to like me,” he said honestly. Michael’s shoulders dropped and he smiled.

“I do like you. A lot.”

“Yeah, but do you like me because you have to? Because I know you could have anyone and I can only have you, so—“

“Alex,” Michael said, coming closer again and peeling his hands off his chest, “You’re beautiful and funny and special. Sure, you can be a little prickly and a little stand-offish, but I like you because I like you, not because I feel required to.”

“You stare at girls still,” Alex pointed out. He grimaced a little.

“Yeah, my bad,” he said, squeezing his hands, “Doesn’t mean I don’t like you. We don’t have to rush. We have all the time in the world. It’s not like I’m gonna wake up tomorrow suddenly not invincible.”

Alex’s eyes widened. What if he did wake up the next day suddenly not invincible? Had that ever happened before? Would he accidentally kill him one day thinking it was alright when it wasn’t?

“Hey, no, stop, I see those gears turning,” Michael said, moving to grab his cheeks and force him to make eye contact, “That’s not gonna happen. I will literally stab myself every morning if I have to.”

“You’re my only shot,” Alex admitted, “I don’t wanna mess it up.” Michael smiled sweetly.

“Which is exactly why I don’t wanna fuck it up by moving too fast. We have all the time in the world,” Michael promised, “I want you, Alex.”

Alex stared at him for a moment. He didn’t know how to tell if he was serious or not. He guessed that the only way to actually tell was to wait and see. So, he nodded.

“Now let’s just watch a movie or something, okay?” Michael said. Alex breathed heavily.

“Okay.”

Michael moved to give him a hug, holding him tight. Somehow that was better than half of the stuff that happened that day. He breathed him in and closed his eyes.

“I still wanna kiss you,” he whispered after a moment of hugging. Michael let out a sweet laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek before basically picking him up and placing them both on the bed.

“We can still do that,” he said, “But we can stop at that too.”

Alex cuddled up to his side after they grabbed his laptop and found something to watch. And they just laid there together for a few hours, laughing and talking and kissing. Nothing more, and yet it was so much more.

Yeah. Maybe Michael did like him.

[mermurder]

Pretty Little Square - a Jotaro/reader fanfic

i was just a smal baby weeb when i wrote my last fan fiction but the time has come (aka i started watching jjba and hoe out for all the Joestars)

Basically reader is stuck watching Jotaro during detention and things get a little rocky. No smut or nothin’ (yet ;000) but there are some swearsies w/ one directed at the reader so theres that. like i said this is my first fan fic in many moons so is probably trash. Enjoy!

Being at school this late was really starting to creep you out. The empty hallways and classrooms had a very strange aura to them. Like you were in some horror movie. You’d usually wouldn't be here this late if it wasn’t for one of your teachers asking for your help. He had to watch over the kids in detention today but had to leave due to some sort of family emergency. At the last minute he begged you to stay and take their place and you couldn’t say no. As class president, he knew he could trust you to watch over the troublemakers. Actually just one troublemaker. Before he left he handed you a sticky note letting you know who would be coming. Jotaro Kujo was the only name written down. Would he even bother coming? You weren’t even sure what he was in detention for, this time at least. It didn’t matter, he’s done all sorts of things that landed him in hot water. Even almost gotten expelled a few times. If it wasn’t for his saint of a mother he would have been kicked out a long time ago. 

She was such a nice lady, when you and Jotaro used to pal around she treated you like her own daughter. You and Jotaro actually used to be really close. Before your parents divorced you lived in the same neighborhood as the Kujos. Even though you were children your parents teased that you and Jotaro were little lovebirds. In reality you just did the normal things kids used to do. Played in the playground and watched after school cartoons. You two stayed friends all the way until high school. That was when Jotaro changed. The normal, kind kid you grew up with turned into a cold and sometimes cruel person. Now that you were class president you denied ever even knowing him, worried your reputation would suffer if anyone knew you used to hang around with him. You’d never dare tell anyone you used to have a crush on him either.

You sighed and raised your hand to block the setting sun from getting in your eyes. You leaned against the desk in the front of the classroom, waiting. The watch on your wrist showed three fifty-nine PM. Detention started at four. If he wasn’t here by fifteen past you’d leave. You weren’t going to sit here when you could be home studying and applying for scholarships. The classroom door creaked open and you turned to look. Holy shit he actually came. Jotaro stood in the doorway. His hands in his pockets and hat pulled down to shade his eyes.

“Where’s Mr. Ishimura?” he questioned in his signature monotone. You pushed yourself off the desk. “He had something he needed to attend to. He asked me to watch you instead.” Jotaro scoffed and let out a quiet ‘whatever’ and walked over to one of the desks in the middle of the room. He plopped himself down in his seat and propped his feet up on the desk. Just an hour of babysitting and you could finally go home. 

You decided to take a seat at the teacher’s desk. Pulling a book out of your bag you cracked it open and began reading. It was a book about some female warrior destined to fight against evil and defend her people. Your friend pleaded that you read it so you could go with her to see the movie when it came out. Humoring her, you'd already gotten to about the middle. The protagonist was starting to fall in love with the bad boy who’d cast himself out of the village. He was gruff and flippant towards her. But she was drawn to his charms like a moth to a flame. Barf. Who would actually fall for his crap?

The sound of a can cracking open yanked you out of your thoughts. You peered over your book to look at Jotaro. You hoped he just opened a can of soda but this was Jotaro Kujo we’re talking about. He leisurely took a sip from his beer as his eyes darted back and forth across the pages of a book. Was it worth the effort to get up and ask him to stop? Exhaling through your nose, you got up and walked around the desk to stand in front of Jojo. He either didn’t notice you were in front of him or didn’t care. Probably the latter. “Jotaro.” you said, hands on your hips. No response. “Jojo.” Oops you didn’t mean to call him by your childhood nickname for him but it seemed to get his attention. He stared up at you past the brim of his hat. It felt like he was glaring daggers into you. “You know what I’m going to say don’t you?” There was a pleading tone in your voice. Maybe just once he would behave. To your surprise he held out the can to you loosely. You snatched it away from him and gave him a disappointed look. It was practically empty already. Turning away you intended to keep the can to throw out somewhere else, you didn’t want the janitors finding an empty can of beer and thinking you had something to do with it. There was still a small amount of liquid still in the can though. Without thinking you brought the can to your lips and chugged down what was left. Behind you a soft chuckle came from Jotaro. 

“I guess the rumors going around are true then.” He mumbled, not quite intending for you to hear but the silence of the room made it audible. You turned on your heel to face Jojo. “What do you mean?” You asked, equal parts insult and curiosity hanging off your words. He didn’t even bother looking up from his book. “Everyone knows that the senior class president isn’t as straight laced as she makes herself out to be.” Okay sure you had a habit of having a smoke or two after school. And sometimes you’d sneak your dad’s beers if you were up late studying. It wasn’t something you were proud of but it was true. There was nothing to be done about the rumors, it wasn’t the gossip that pissed you off anyway. “You’re one to talk.” Your words cut through the air like a knife. Jotaro’s shoulders tensed and finally for the first time in the past half an hour he’d been with you he looked you straight in the eye. Placing his book on the desk he stood from his seat, towering over you. He looked down at your tiny form. You’d forgotten how piercing his blue eyes were. “What's that supposed to mean.” Your words were sharp but by far his were more intimidating. What had you gotten yourself into?

A familiar heat grew on our face. It was embarrassing being called out on your words. But more than that you were angry. Bottling up how you felt about Jotaro would do you no good. He was here, he had no choice but to hear what you had to say. “I’m so sick of your attitude…” Getting the words out of your mouth was already hard enough, looking Jojo in the eye was impossible. Jotaro was silent. You had no idea what his reaction was but after a short pause you kept speaking. “I might have my own problems but you act like such a jackass!” Gaining more confidence you stepped back and looked up at Jojo. With his hands in his pockets he once again had his hat covering his face. It cast an ominous shadow over his eyes. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. But you could tell he was listening. You already called this giant man a jackass, might as well keep going. 

“You act like you’re better than everyone else, its so annoying. I hate it, everyone hates it! Everyone's too afraid to call you out because they're afraid you’re gonna kick their ass.” The hands at your side balled up into fists. “You’re just...you’re a completely different person.” The frustration you were feeling made it hard to form sentences but you kept firing off anyway. “I remember when we used to play together. You were so nice back then. You loved going to the aquarium and spending time with your mom. Now you act like a complete bastard to everyone! This tough guy act you put on isn’t cool Jojo. I used to like you…now I just wish you’d snap out of it and act right.” Barely audible you added one last thing. “I miss the old Jojo.” 

Years of hearing about Jotaro getting in trouble had manifested into anger about the person you used to know. In your freshman year together you sometimes day dreamed of what it would be like to be Mrs. Kujo. You tried to push the silly thoughts about your best friend down until eventually you didn’t have to. The two of you drifted apart. Jotaro became a delinquent. You became a good student and class president. Feelings of infatuation morphed into anger. You lost your closest friend and now he treated everyone like shit. Now is was all finally out. The impromptu vent session actually felt nice. But now you had to deal with the consequences. 

Before you knew it Jotaro was right in front of you and invading your personal space. He glared into your eyes and managed to trap you between his body and the desk next to you. He leaned down just enough to be able to be face to face to you. “Listen to me.” He growled through his teeth. “Just because our parents made us go on play dates doesn’t mean you know me like the back of your hand. I grew up, things changed. It's time for you to do the same.” He was close enough to you that you could smell the cologne and cigarette smoke on him. You were terrified but also strangely excited. “I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me. I’ll do whatever the hell I damn well please. You have no idea what I've been through or what I’m going through. So you don’t have the fucking right to chew me out about how I’ve changed.” Your eyes began to water and you closed your eyes to prevent the tears from coming, in addition to turning your head away so he wouldn't see you cry. Just like you Jojo had one final thing to say. “The last thing I need is you mouthing off at me and acting like a little bitch!” He didn’t yell at you but his raised voice echoed off the walls of the room. It was enough to finally force tears from you. One or two streamed down your cheek and you felt your lip begin to quiver. You couldn’t figure out why this hurt so bad. You didn’t care about some loser like Jojo anymore. Right?

When you opened your eyes again Jojo was still in front of you but standing straight at his normal height. He looked down on you but he didn’t look pissed like you thought he would. He actually looked kind of sad. The words he said replayed in your head over and over again. The tears came quicker and your chest began to tighten. “Just... just get out.” you mumbled between sniffles. You didn’t want to be around him anymore or for him to see you cry. Though it’s probably too late for that. Jojo collected his things and obeyed. You looked at him as he walked out the door and he gave you a look back. After waiting a moment you let the tears fall as they pleased.

Detention ended early that day. You didn’t care. After that you never saw or heard from Jojo again. He would creep into your mind from time to time but you’d quickly try to think of something else. Now that you were in college you couldn’t waste time thinking about stuff like that. Sometimes you could swear you’d saw someone who looked just like him on campus, but there was no way. A delinquent like him probably ended up on the streets or something.

...Right?

[foxyninjabear]

A Hacker’s Tale - Chapter 5

[CHAPTER 1] [PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!: This fic is rated as PG-14+, so read at your own risk! There’s swearsies, suggestive references, and LOTS of blood and gore! Be aware!

_________________________________________

Sakura

“Bloom.”

Sakura faintly heard her code name being said, muffled by the grogginess of sleep clouding her brain. “Hmm...?”

“Bloom, it’s the morning.” The voice repeated. “And it’s time to meet up with your friends.”

The brunette cracked open her eyes a bit, and glanced over at where she presumed the door was. Her vision blurred as her surroundings got further and further away; she needed her glasses. She patted around her nightstand, felt for her glasses, and slipped them onto the bridge of her nose.

At the door was a familiar blonde man in a brown shirt, with bluish, almost purple eyes. He was introduced to her a few days prior; Zedaph, she believed his name was. He wasn't too bad. He was laid back, a decent person, and although a bit odd, he wasn't awful.

But a small thought crossed her mind for a moment. Why did he know her code name? She had never said anything before then. Not in her interrogation, not to any of the W.E.S. operatives. Nobody.

A familiar memory then popped into the brunette’s mind. Not long after her and every other member of the byte had met up, Lucky admitted that he had been forced to identify all members of the byte. But on the bright side, he had only used aliases, so their actual names weren’t revealed. That’s why Zedaph had called her Bloom.

Sakura sat up from her bed and yawned. “Alright…” She said, before taking the blanket off of her bed and wrapping around herself.

Zedaph raised a brow at the brunette. "Why are you bringing a blanket?" He asked.

She glanced up at the blonde and shrugged. "It's freezing down here," She answered, yawning a bit. "And I'm tired…"

The man was quiet for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. "...Alright." He answered, giving her a nod. "Now c'mon."

The brunette slowly stood up from her bed, shuffling over to the door and exiting her cell-like room. Alongside Zedaph, she waddled down the hallway, rubbing her tired eyes and wrapping the blanket further around her body as she shivered.

"I mean, you weren't wrong when you said it was cold down here," Zedaph said, chuckling a bit and wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m getting goosebumps myself!”

Sakura smiled a bit and laughed back. "Yeah…" 

However, her smile soon faded with the sound of their soft chuckles. It might have been true that the underground bunker was chilly, even though it was the summertime. But it wasn’t her intention to keep warm. The blanket was only part of a plan.

A massive plot to break out and escape.

Before she knew it, she and Zedaph had arrived at the ‘meeting room’. In reality, it was more like a supply closet that had been emptied of everything except the unbearable amount of dust floating around. But is was better than nothing.

The blonde opened the door and allowed Sakura to walk inside. To her dismay, she saw that everyone else apart of her team was there before her. They must have been waiting on her again. She didn’t know the exact distance her cell was from the meeting room, but she could easily assume that it was the farthest out of everyone else’s.

But she didn’t have time to complain or apologize. They all had to get work done.

Sakura waited for Zedaph to lock the door, and once his footsteps echoed into silence, she opened her mouth to speak. “Okay, so what does everyone have?”

Everyone was silent for a second. But then Nix raised his hand, before he tossed something into the air in Sakura’s direction. Once the brunette caught it, she realized what it was, and her brown eyes widened; duct tape. Three brand new rolls of multicolored duct tape, still encased in their clear plastic packaging. 

She lifted her eyes back up to the young medic, amazed. “Nix, where did you find this?” She asked. 

Nix said nothing. He only shrugged and gestured to the door with his thumb. But Sakura did manage to see a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

Either way, she was happy about what the medic had to offer. "Thank you, Nix. This will be very useful," She said, before shifting her gaze to the remaining members of the group. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah," Grey nodded, before tossing a bundle over to her. “All I got was a bedsheet,” He said, frowning a bit. "Sorry, kiddo."

Instead, Sakura smiled and shook her head. "No, this will do nicely," She assured as she tucked the roll under her mechanical arm. "Thank you, Grey." She then shifted her focus onto the rest of the byte. "Do any of you have anything else?"

Most of her colleagues shook their heads or said something along the lines of 'No'. But Coda, instead of having everyone else's reaction, she flashed a proud, sharp-toothed smile.

"I thought you'd never ask," She stated. "I managed to get somethin' fuckin' sweet. But I did have to hide it in an…" She then reached her hand up to grasp the zipper on her jumpsuit. "Interesting way."

It took a moment for Sakura to realize what Coda meant. And once she did, she felt her face turn a bright shade of red. "O-oh gosh…!" 

Coda burst out laughing as the brunette averted her gaze and shielded her eyes with her hands. “Aww, don’t be shy!~”

Nightingale let out an annoyed sigh. “Just get it over with and show us what you have, Coda.”

“Yes, ma’am~”

“And keep it clean!”

Sakura could hear a zipper being undone, some cloth rustling, and then the zipper zipping back up. “A...are you done…?” She asked, her cheeks still burning.

“Yeah,” Coda replied, and the brunette sighed in relief. “You can turn ‘round now.”

Sakura hesitantly removed her hands from her face to look back at the creeper, and she saw two things. One, she indeed had her jumpsuit zipped back up, which Sakura was more than happy about. And two, to her amazement, Coda had something that would be more than useful; one of the metal trays that the W.E.S. employees were using to serve food.

The brunette’s eyes weren’t the only ones wide in shock. Synth, for example, appeared as if his jaw would drop to the floor at any moment. "How in the world did you manage to not draw any suspicion?" Synth asked.

Coda shrugged and smiled a bit. "Eh, I've got one of the stupid ones bringin' me meals.” She answered, handing off the tray to Sakura. “Guy forgets to take the tray back half the time. He barely even noticed that one went missing." 

The redhead chuckled. “Which one?”

“The toothpick. With the moustache.” Coda laughed back, grinning more. “And he’s already terrified of me, so I sorta have free reign over ‘em.”

Grey sighed and shook his head back and forth. “You really won’t ever change, will you kid?”

The creeper rolled her eyes at her mentor, but still had a smile on her lips. “Would you ever want me to?”

The older man chuckled. “I don’t think it’s even possible at this point.”

Several chuckles sounded out throughout the room, and more conversations arose among most of the soldiers. Even Sakura herself was starting to talk, after hiding the metal tray beneath her blanket. She could honestly get used to the chatter. Even though she barely knew those people, she was growing somewhat fond of them- Three loud raps suddenly sounded on the door, silencing everyone immediately. “Twenty minutes are up!” A man’s voice sounded out. She knew it belonged to the man that seemed to be made entirely out of slime (she didn't question it; she had seen enough weird people in the time of the byte arriving in that World), but what was his name again? Jevin?

“Aw, c’mon jelly bean!” Coda groaned in annoyance. Sakura couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the fitting nickname. “Can’t y’hear we’re having fun in here?”

“You’ve gotten used to the limit by now!” The man replied, ignoring the creeper’s remark. “Time to get out!”

Sakura sighed, holding her contraband close to her blanketed figure. “Alright…” She walked towards the door, but glanced back towards her teammates and gave them a smile. “See you all tomorrow.” She said, before walking out the door with her precious cargo.

She glanced around at the group of people outside the door. The usual escorts were there, one (or sometimes two) for each of her colleagues. Among them was the man assigned to her; Zedaph. 

“You still cold?” He asked as the two started to walk off down the halls.

Sakura made a small pouty face. She had to keep up the act. “It’s chilly!”

The blonde laughed. “Okay, okay!” He replied.

The two didn’t exchange many more words before they finally arrived at Sakura’s cell. “I’ll be back in about an hour with your breakfast, alright?” He said, opening the door and letting the shorter woman inside.

Sakura gave a small smile and nodded. “Alright. See you then.”

As she turned around, she heard the door close behind her with a long creak and a click, signifying it had been locked. She continued to stand still for a moment and waited for Zedaph's footsteps to fade away. She knew she couldn't risk anything.

Soon, there was nothing but total silence. Silent enough for her ears to ring. She glanced over her shoulder one more time, before sitting down, taking off her blanket, and spreading out the supplies she was given.

And she immediately started to grow uneasy at the task before her.

Sakura gazed at all of the materials set out in front of her and bit her nails. What was she supposed to do with a flimsy metal tray, a bedsheet, and duct tape?

Knowing she had to start somewhere, she took the tray in her hands and attempted to bend it. To her pleasant surprise, it started to fold with relative ease. As easy as it could possibly be to fold a sheet of shaped metal. Maybe she could use those after all…

The woman looked back down at the cloth and tape next to her. Ideas started flowing into her head, one after the other, and a small smile crept up onto her lips. She knew exactly what she could do.

"Alright, Sakura…" She muttered to herself. "You have made it this far… time to make the final stretch." She rubbed her hands together and rolled up her torn and dirty sleeves.

Time to get to work.

~~~~~

Sakura rubbed her eyes and yawned. She had been up for (what she presumed to be) most of the day and the night, tinkering and experimenting with her mismatched supply of contraband in between the times that Zedaph had delivered her meals. Her natural hand was starting to form a couple blisters from all of the work she was doing. Not to mention all of the small scrapes and cuts she had along her palm that stung every time she flexed her fingers.

But her hard work was definitely paying off. Laid out on the tile in front of her were several makeshift knives. Seven, to be exact. Their jagged blades were fashioned out of the food tray (after she had finally managed to fold it enough so it would break), and their handles were made from torn scraps of the bedsheets and the tape.

She had a remaining scrap of the bedsheet left, so to keep all of the shivs in one place, she decided to wrap them all up into one small parcel. A tired sigh of relief escaped her lips, and she shuffled over to her bed and collapsed. Her eyelids drooped and got heavier and heavier, and she slipped closer and closer into dreamland-

“Bloom? You awake?”

Zedaph’s voice made her snap her eyes wide open in an instant. She almost jumped right out of her bed from the surprise, and nearly dropped her bundle of knives onto the floor. “Wh-what…?”

Zedaph spoke again. “It’s morning.”

“A...already?” Sakura asked, trying to sit up without revealing her contraband. She tried to yawn to make it seem like she had just woken up.

“Yup. Time for you to meet up with the others.”

“J...just one second…!” She stuttered out, trying her best to add in another fake yawn to her speech. She held the bundle close and wrapped her blanket around herself to conceal it. “Alright, ready.” She then stood up from her bed and shuffled out of her room, holding her parcel close as she tagged alongside the blonde.

To her relief, Zedaph didn't seem to suspect a thing as they walked. He appeared just as tired as she was, perhaps even more. But then again, Sakura could easily assume that just about every single W.E.S. operative in the World was, at that point. She didn’t know how much time had passed since the massive battle between them and the rest of her fellow soldiers, but it had been long enough to where everyone seemed to be losing sleep.

The blonde led Sakura to the ‘meeting’ room, and let her in without a hitch. “Twenty minutes as always,” He yawned. “Have fun.”

The brunette nodded and smiled at Zedaph, before he closed the door behind her and locked it. She turned back to her fellow soldiers, who had all, once again, arrived before she had. However, at that point, none of them (including herself) seemed to care at that point. They were all dirty, weakened, and determined to go home.

Coda was the first to speak, lowering her voice a bit and leaning closer to Sakura. “You got the goods?” She asked.

Synth let out a snort. “You make it sound like she’s dealing crack, geez.”

“Shut the fuck up, Synth,” The creeper rolled her eyes and playfully shoved her friend. "But really, you got somethin’ we can use?"

Sakura nodded, and pulled out the small bundle from inside her blanket. “I made seven. One for each of us.” She pinched a corner of the bedsheet and unraveled the parcel to reveal the hastily made knives. 

Coda’s eyes locked on the blades with interest. “Holy shit…” She said. Her jet black gaze shifted upwards to Sakura. “You made these? In just a few hours?”

The brunette gave a sheepish smile back. “Well, it wasn’t just a few hours… I've been up since yesterday-”

“These are fuckin’ amazing!”

The creeper cut her off and snatched one of the knives in Sakura’s hands. “Sure, they would look shitty as fuck to anybody else, but they aren’t!” She grinned at the shorter woman. “A lot better than I could do.”

Synth raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you know how to make a shiv?”

Coda glanced over at her friend. “Does it surprise ya?”

The redhead let out a chuckle. “Point taken.”

“N..not to be mean, but…” Lucky’s quiet voice then sounded, drawing the group’s attention to him. He made a timid gesture to the blades. “H...how do you know that they’re good? They look like they would do more scratching than cutting…”

Coda’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Watch ‘n learn, techie.” Before anyone could object, she took her blade and pressed the tip against her scaled finger. Just as she did, a small, emerald green bubble formed. “See? It’s damn sharp! If it can get through my scaly ass skin that easily, then it can get through anybody else's like it’s fuckin’ butter.”

The shorter blonde was obviously taken aback by the creeper’s sudden action. “D...did you just stab your finger?”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ stabbed my finger. So what-”

“We’re getting off track.”

Nightingale’s cold voice pierced the air and filled it with silence. “We need to make the most of these twenty minutes. We cannot waste them.”

Lucky flinched back a bit. “Y-yes ma’am…!”

Coda was quiet, but soon spoke. “Yes, boss…”

“Good. Now, remember our plan,” Nightingale started, her dark gaze shifting from person to person. “We take out every threat we find, quickly and quietly. We cannot draw attention to ourselves. If you need to spill some blood, do what you must. Just make it discreet. And while at it, you make your way around to meet up with your partners at your discussed locations.”

“Once we have everyone incapacitated and have all found each other, we close in on Xisuma,” The ebony woman continued. “And we must be just as careful taking him down as with the others. You all have seen how powerful he is; one slip up and we’re all done for. Once he’s dead, we can get our equipment back and call for an extraction.”

Nightingale’s eye landed on Lucky, and Sakura could have sworn she saw that her gaze had softened for a moment. “And Lucky. We’ll get the extraction team to find Jazz and bring him home. Alright?”

The short blonde lifted his head from the floor, locking his bloodshot eyes on her. “Yes ma’am…”

A moment of somber silence passed. It was still hard for Sakura to believe that one of her teammates was dead. Sure, she had been sent out on missions before, and her other colleagues hadn't made it back to Fort Oblivion alive, but this was different. From what she gathered in the short time she knew him, Jazz was both strong and smart. A prime example of someone who could have been a skilled and admirable commander one day. Not someone who would have their life cut short by hacker powerful enough to leech.

At least he would be remembered as a hero. A strong, dedicated soldier who fought to the bitter end. She was happy that Lucky would have that to comfort him.

“And on a side note," Nightingale gently broke the silence after what seemed like ages. "There’s no need to call me ‘ma’am’ anymore.”

Sakura blinked, confused. What did she mean? She was technically the leader of the byte; she had to be respected as such.

“We’ve all been placed at the same level here,” Nightingale continued. “So Angel will do just fine.”

The brunette tilted her head slightly. Angel. If she had to be one hundred percent honest with herself, she was expecting something much less...dainty? Elegant? She didn't quite know how to describe it. Sure, her surperior's code name was Nightingale, but that was just it; a code name. An alias.

"And personally," The woman spoke again, further gaining Sakura's curiosity of the sudden request. A small smile then tugged at the corners of her dark lips. "You have all gained my respect." Her raven gaze landed on Coda for a moment, before returning to the others. "No matter how much you may get under my skin. You all have proven yourself to be fine soldiers. With what we've faced in the past several days, I would even say that Ecryptos himself would be impressed."

Sakura's eyes widened a bit. Was Nighten- er, Angel, being serious? She didn't know in the slightest. But then again, even in the time she had known her, Sakura had gotten a vibe from the infamous sniper that said she wasn't one for spreading lies.

“Now, are there any questions?” Angel asked out. Silence. “Good.” She glanced over towards the door. Their time was almost up. “Now… Good luck out there. All of you.”

Sakura gave the sniper a salute alongside everyone else. This was it. The escape was going to be set in motion in a matter of hours. 

Now all she had to do was wait.

~~~~~

All was silent as Sakura crept through the hallways, careful not to make a sound. The faint echoes of water dripping and an animal or two scurrying across the dirty tile were all she could hear. It didn’t exactly provide a calm atmosphere, to say the least. Especially when she felt something dart across her boot and she had to suppress the urge to scream and jump where she stood.

But she wasn’t all that surprised that there was the occasional rodent down in that bunker; it was still quite new, and partially under construction from what she could tell. A number of the hallways led to dead ends with dirt piles, some of the walls were just plain gravel or earth, instead of the usual polished stone. And the amount of dust and grime always gathering in the place was a dead giveaway that the bunker was hard to keep clean in some places, primarily the ones that were used the least often.

She started to approach an intersection of hallway. All was still and silent. Too silent. Even if she knew it might have been a good sign, she couldn’t help but feel slightly on edge. 

But she took a breath to reassure herself. Everything had gone alright so far. She had managed to knock Zedaph unconscious with a swift blow to the head when he came in to deliver her dinner; she had managed to build up his trust in her, enough so that she could get him to let his guard down around her. As an extra precaution, she had tied him up with bedsheets. And on top of that, nobody had managed to find her yet. She may have felt guilty, but it was what she had to do. All she needed to do now was meet up with Synth outside the infirmary, and everything would be-

Voices echoed from down the hallway. Sakura stopped dead in her tracks, and the hairs on the back of her neck raised. She knew she had to get out of sight, but she was right out in the open! Nothing to hide behind except the corner.

She had to make do with what she had. So she slammed herself against the wall, holding her knife close. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, feel the sweat dripping down her forehead. All she could do was listen and hope they wouldn’t come far enough down the hallway to spot her.

One voice she immediately recognized. The ultimate target of the whole escape plan; Xisumavoid. “Grian, I told you I’m alright.” He said in an assuring, almost annoyed tone. Like a parent worrying when their child has tripped and scraped their knee, and the child repeatedly telling them that they are okay.

The other voice, presumably belonging to someone named Grian, Sakura didn’t recognize. All she could tell was that it was definitely male. “But X, those bruises on your neck look really bad!” He replied. “Just drink part of a healing potion!”

“The others need them more than I do. I can manage.”

By the sound of his voice, Grian wasn’t having any of it. “You could have been killed by that woman, X! I don’t care if you have those fancy hacker powers; she nearly choked you to death with that wire!”

“But I’m alive,” Xisuma retorted. “And that’s all that matters. So what if I have some purple rings around my neck for a few days?”

Grian huffed. “Okay, fine,” He finally gave in, and a short moment of silence followed. “And X?”

“Yeah?”

Grian was quiet for another second, and a pair of footsteps ceased, presumably his. “...why didn’t you tell any of us that you were a hacker?”

The other set of footfalls stopped, followed by a moment of tense silence. But even if she was scared, Sakura was growing curious of the situation. Xisuma’s colleagues didn’t know he was a hacker? It somewhat made sense; hacking was something that was a very controversial subject to many people in countless Worlds, and as far as Sakura knew, it had been for a long time. Some people were accepting of it, but with how dangerous altering code could be, hackers were often viewed as a danger to both themselves and society.

But Grian didn’t sound mad or disgusted in the slightest. He almost sounded sad, disappointed. As if he thought Xisuma could trust him with any secret, no matter how dark or shameful it could be.

She had to know what Xisuma’s answer was going to be. Her curiosity was too great, too tempting. Staying as still and as quiet as she could, she continued to listen. 

There was still a tense silence, but soon a sigh from the hacker broke it. “I…” He started, his words trailing off. “I guess because I never thought I would have to tell anyone in the first place.”

Sakura’s curiosity only grew at the response. She had to resist the urge to pop around the corner and ask Xisuma himself. 

“Oh…” That was the only word Grian said for a long moment. “...you know you can tell any of us anything, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Grian let out a sigh. “Good.” He said. “Well… I better get back to Cub. He’s still a bit short handed.”

Xisuma chuckled. “See you, Grian.”

A small burst of static sounded followed Xisuma finishing his sentence. He must have teleported somewhere, and hopefully, far enough away for Sakura to continue navigating around the bunker and finding Synth.

Instead of taking her time, like before, she broke out into a swift walk. Still quiet enough to not be detected, but much faster than her former pace. 

And yet she continued to weave through the expanse of hallways and corridors for what felt like hours. Part of her mind was wondering if she was actually headed the right way. Everything looked almost exactly the same; the walls, the tile, the flickering lights. She felt like she was in a cheesy horror movie.

But then she saw something familiar out of the corner of her eye. Or rather, someone. She had nearly passed him as she was walking past a corridor she thought she had already gone through. The redhead was leaning up against a wall, next to a window peering into another room.

Sakura’s eyes widened, and she smiled. “Synth!” She whispered, and dashed over to him as quick as she could. “Sorry, I got lost…” She let out a sigh and wiped some sweat off her forehead. “This place is like a maze!”

The redhead glanced down at her and shook his head. “You’re fine, trust me,” He assured, a charming grin on his face. “But we need to move, and sooner rather than later. Come on.”

Synth then started walking down the hallway, and Sakura followed. But she couldn’t help but glance into the windowed room as she passed by it. She presumed it was the infirmary; there were several people asleep in beds, with various injuries. There were several she recognized right off the bat; Doc, with his broken arm in a sling, and False, who apparently didn’t have any injuries at all, apart from a bruise on the side of her head. But there was one other in a cot, who was almost completely covered in gauze. And he had both an arm and a leg missing. All she could tell was that he was a red creeper-

Wait. The creeper. She recognized him. It was PythonGB, fierce warrior and former soldier that Lucky identified while everyone was still back at Fort Oblivion. He was also one of the people who tried to get away from her R.O.S.A. before it could detonate.

And now he appeared to be on the verge of death.

Her eyes widened as she gazed at the creeper through the glass. “Did...d-did I do that to him…?” She whispered to Synth.

Synth stopped walking. He must have heard her. "Pardon?" He glanced over his shoulder at Sakura. “What was that?”

Sakura lifted up her cybernetic arm and gestured to Python’s severely injured figure in his bed. “D-did I… did I injure him that badly? W-when my R.O.S.A. exploded?”

The taller redhead lifted his grey eyes to where the woman was pointing. “Oh wow…” He replied, sounding genuinely surprised. “He looks worse than the last time I saw him. Last time he had both arms.” 

Sakura’s heart stopped for a moment, her eyes widening. He didn’t lose his arm and leg at the same time? Maybe gangrene had set in to his arm, too much infection to risk keeping the limb. Or it could have been the fact that whoever was doing the amputations couldn’t stomach doing both the leg and the arm at once. The thought of having to cut off a colleague’s dying limbs was one that made Sakura sick.

Synth was silent for a second, as if thinking of a response. “Well, your mech did explode. Quite violently, as far as I’ve heard. I wouldn’t say that you necessarily made him lose a limb or two, but I will say this.” A small smile spread across his face. “Either way, you helped put him in that bed. And now you’ve made our job much easier.”

The man’s last words turned the brunette’s heart into lead. The feeling of being weighed down with guilt and shame almost made her feel like she needed to sit down. She did that to Python… She was the one that accidently activated the self destruct sequence on her R.O.S.A. when its engines went offline. If she hadn’t done that, so many people would have been okay…

Including Jazz.

She saw him retreating with Nightingale before the explosion knocked her unconscious. He should have been safe, given he was outside the immediate blast zone, but it was the resulting shrapnel that killed him. She saw a massive metal plate hit him and practically rip him right open-

"Sakura!"

Synth's harsh whisper made her train of thought come to a screeching halt. “What, what is it?” She whispered back.

The taller man pressed a finger against his lips and signalled her to be quiet. As the air was consumed by the silence, at first she didn’t hear anything. But after a moment, she could just about make out almost inaudible footsteps, the soles of shoes barely squeaking against the tile.

Someone was there.

And Sakura felt like a deer in the headlights as they rounded the corner and stopped where they stood once they saw the two escapees. Standing less than a couple of meters away was a short man in a red shirt, his dirty blonde hair disheveled and messy, and his dark brown eyes wide in shock.

“...uhhhhhh.” Once he let out his surprised reaction, the brunette felt taken aback herself; she recognized his voice from before. The one talking to Xisuma. It was Grian.

Synth was quick to act, and he pointed his knife him. “I would advise against trying to scream and run,” He stated calmly. “Now, just come over here, and you might live to see another day.”

The blonde was still in a silent shock for one more moment, but soon shook his head and cleared his throat. “Look, we don’t need to fight,” He said, holding his palms out. “Just slide the knives over and-”

A soft click sounded through the air, and Grian froze where he stood. A new voice sounded from behind him, one that Sakura could recognize immediately. A woman, harsh and confident in her words.

“You move, I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out. Gottit?”

Coda! 

A feeling of relief washed over the brunette. Thank goodness! A smile spread across her face as she saw the creeper step slightly out from behind Grian, her gun still trained on his head.

“On your knees,” The creeper growled. “And hands over your head. Now.”

“Okay, okay, alright!” The shorter man stated, before slowly beginning to lift his hands upwards.

“Good choice, blondie.” Coda grinned, and she reached her hand forward, presumably to grab the man.

But just before she could do anything, Grian suddenly spun around to throw a punch at Coda. His fist planted right on her jaw with a loud crack, causing her to stumble back.

“GAH!” Coda rubbed the side of her face, dark green blood now dribbling out of her mouth and down her chin. She looked back over at Grian and spat in his direction. “You lil’ son of a…!”

She nearly fell as the blonde charged at her, trying to snatch the gun out of her hand. But to Sakura’s surprise, Coda roughly grabbed his arm and, like he weighed absolutely nothing, flung him against the wall, before pinning him there by both shoving her forearm onto his throat and jabbing the barrel of her pistol on his side.

Coda grinned at her success, and jammed the gun further against her opponent’s stomach. "Y'know… it's a good thing you're wearin' red," She said, gesturing to his red sweater. She leaned closer to his face and smiled wider, not afraid to show off her now blood coated teeth. "It'll hide the stains~"

Grian gasped in pain as the creeper pressed her pistol harder against him, but he kept his dark brown gaze locked on her. “I’m not afraid of you,” He stated.

Sakura could have sworn that she saw Coda’s grin falter for a split second. "Uh huh. Sure." The soldier said, sarcasm dripping from her words. She kept her gun trained on him. “Y’wanna make a bet on it, blondie?”

The blonde’s expression remained the same; unafraid. “Then go ahead. Shoot me.” He stated, leaning his face closer to hers. “I already told you that I’m not scared. Of any of you, for that matter.”

A sinking feeling began to form in Sakura’s stomach. What was Grian doing? Sure, he was an enemy, but she knew antagonizing Coda wasn’t good at all. She had seen it happen back at the Hive, but Synth had managed to drag her away before she could do anything to Jazz. Now Coda had a gun… and that combined with a short temper was a recipe for disaster.

And to her horror, her prediction was correct. Just as Grian opened his mouth to say something, the creeper suddenly yanked him by the shirt collar and threw him onto the floor before he could finish. She then sent her foot towards him, kicking him in the stomach. A loud crack could be heard along with Grian's cry of pain.

"Coda!" Sakura cried out, and rushed over to her to try and pull her away. "Just calm down!" She grasped her arm and tried to tug her away, but the creeper didn't budge, and continued to repeatedly pummel Grian with a series of hard kicks.

Synth apparently had the same goal in mind. "Coda, calm down!" Synth demanded, dashing over to his friend and wrapping his arms around her. "We cannot reveal where we are!" He hissed, pulling her away from the beaten man on the floor.

Coda continued to glare daggers at the blonde as she spoke. “If this prick would shut the fuck up, then maybe I’d stop!”

Sakura nervously glanced down at Grian on the floor. He was glaring up at the three soldiers, his breathing labored. “Xisuma… is gonna find you…” He said, his eyes filled with anger. “All of you… every one of you in your little Shadowbyte Army-”

Sakura reeled back and shrieked as Coda’s gun suddenly went off with an ear shattering BANG. She heard Grian scream out in pain just as dozens of crimson flecks sprayed over her face and the cracked lenses of her glasses. Blood.

"Coda, what the hell?!" Synth demanded, grabbing her shoulder and roughly turning her to face him. "You just blew our position!"

"They know who we are, dude!" Coda exclaimed, sounding like she barely cared about the fact that she just shot someone. After a split second, her coal black eyes then shined with a red hot fury. As if she realized something in her head. "Of course… that fuckin' techie! He's a fuckin' snitch!!" She growled and stomped once on the tile. "I swear, I'm gonna beat the shit outta that kid once I get a hold of 'em!"

Sakura immediately knew who she was talking about. Lucky. Did he reveal anything during the interrogation besides everyone's code names? Somebody from the byte must have; Grian (or anybody else, for that matter) wouldn’t have known otherwise.

But she didn’t have time to stand and question. Before she could say anything, Synth had grabbed her hand and forced her to break out into a run. “Come on!” He ordered. “We need to get out of here, NOW!”

“O-okay, okay!” She managed to spit out a couple of words as she started to move alongside him and Coda. However, she couldn’t help but glance back at Grian as she was running. He was sprawled out on the floor and clutching his side, blood pouring out of his gunshot wound and steadily pooling beneath him.

But it was his screaming that made her almost stop. 

Almost.

She knew she couldn’t stop running. As much as she wanted to, Grian was the enemy. And there was no way she could help him, even if it weighed her down with more guilt.

Sakura turned her eyes away from the man on the floor as she rounded a corner. She nearly slipped in a puddle of water and had to stumble while she ran to regain her balance. Voices bounced and echoed off the walls and the tile. The voices of the HermitCraft members. Yelling. Screaming. Crying.

But the woman kept running. She kept her eyes wide open. She didn't care how tired she was. She wanted, no, needed to escape-

And then she saw someone. Somebody that wasn't Coda or Synth. But it wasn't an enemy; it was a friend. As she and her two colleagues went around another corner, she saw a grey-haired man, also running. His tattered white jumpsuit stood out against the darkness of the hallway.

Grey.

"Old man!" Coda called and dashed over to run alongside him, Sakura and Synth following behind. “Wait, where’s the boss lady and your side kick?"

“Coda! You made it!” The man exclaimed as the group of four continued to dash through the halls. “I thought I was the only one! I got separated from Nix and Angel a while back. I thought they’d meet me up here, but none of them showed.”

Sakura’s eyes widened a bit. There was one person not accounted for. “Where’s Lucky?” She huffed out. “You haven’t seen him?”

“What?” Grey asked. “No, I thought you guys would’ve!”

“No time for questions!” Synth interrupted the conversation. "Right now we have to run!"

Sakura could barely tell where she and her three colleagues were headed. Everything was flying by so fast, too quick to make out any landmarks. If that were even possible, in that labyrinth of a bunker. How did the members of HermitCraft even get around without getting lost?

The brunette was about to try and speak her mind when she finally recognized something; the grand set of stairs that led up to the surface. She could almost feel her heart explode with happiness as the group and her ran up the stairs and burst through the doors, into the compound.

She and the rest of her group ran past the many buildings, past the compound wall, and into the massive field. She could just about see a massive crater not too far away, the ground and grass charred black. Her stomach churned; she knew exactly what had happened in that place. But then she lifted her head to the sky…

And saw sunlight. Warm, beautiful sunlight from the rising sun on the horizon. Sakura had to resist the urge and want to stop running and lay down on the grass, cherish and embrace the moment.

But she couldn’t stop running. Not with everything that was on the line.

“There!” Coda stated out, and Sakura snapped her brown gaze towards the creeper. “Head towards the woods!” She had her hand pointing out, where a large line of trees could be seen, easily within running distance. As if they were all in sync, a single unit, everyone made the sharp turn and ran into the forest and among the trees and brush.

Now, Sakura wasn't afraid to admit that she was plump. She didn't care that much about her weight, in terms of looks; she just had always been this short and round person, no matter how much she exercised and trained. Plus, she had grown to think of herself as cute, weight regardless. But in terms of athletics, a thing she never really had to worry about once she gained her position in the Army's Engineering division, she definitely knew her weight and body type wasn't exactly ideal.

Especially when she tripped and tumbled over a large tree root. One that had easily been avoided by her three (and much more athletic) colleagues.

"Woah!" The brunette cried out in surprise as she fell and slammed into the ground. Immediately a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her ankle, and a loud crack sounded out. “Owowowowowowooowwww!”

Not a moment after her cry of pain, she heard footsteps rapidly approach her, twigs and sticks cracking and snapping. “Oh shit!” To her relief, it was Coda’s voice. “Hold on, I gotcha!”

Sakura lifted her head up, and sure enough, Coda was right at her side and kneeling down. "C'mon, gimme your arm," She said, before firmly grasping her mechanical hand and started helping her to her feet.

The brunette heard more footsteps as Coda wrapped her cybernetic arm over her shoulders. "Kid! You alright? Can you walk?" She heard Grey ask.

She looked up at the man and shook her head. "I-I don't know…" She said. "I can try- OW!" But as she tried to put weight on her injured ankle, another wave of pain washed over her.

"Yeah, you ain't walkin'," Coda stated, shaking her head.

"But-"

"Nope! C'mon, up y'go!"

Before Sakura could respond, Coda suddenly scooped her up off the ground and held the brunette in her arms. "H-hey! Put me down! I can-"

"Both of you, just stop!"

The two women were silenced by Synth raising his voice, so much so it almost sounded threatening. Sakura shifted her brown eyes to the man, who had a grim expression on his face.

"Coda," He started. "You're right. Sakura is in no position to be running. But you and Grey need to move further ahead. Sakura and I can meet up with you later."

Coda's pitch black eyes went wide. "What?! Dude, there's no fuckin' way I'm leavin' anybody here!" Coda stated. "Nobody’s gettin' left behind!"

Synth shook his head. "We have to split up, Coda!" He countered. "The W.E.S. members can only spread themselves out so far! This is our only shot for all of us getting out of here!" He then placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a nod and a smile. Not his signature sly, almost sinister grin. This one looked gentle, much more friendly. "And besides, we'll be right behind you."

Coda was silent, her lips pressed into a firm line. But after a moment, she lifted her eyes back up and spoke. "Y'better be." She stated, before gently setting Sakura back down on her feet. “If ya aren’t, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

The redhead laughed, removing his hand from her shoulder. “Good luck,” He glanced over at Grey and nodded. “Both of you.” “You too, kiddo,” Grey said, before he and Coda turned around and made their way further into the woods, and not a moment later, disappeared among the trees and foliage.

Sakura and Synth were completely on their own now.

“Here, come on,” Synth held his hand out to Sakura. They had to keep moving. “Let me help you.”

The brunette flinched in pain as she tried to move, but soon grasped Synth’s hand, and allowed him to hoist her mechanical arm over his shoulders, just like Coda had. It may have been a little awkward, given the major height difference between the two, but they still managed to make it work. 

"Thank you, Synth…" Sakura said, whimpering a bit as they both began to walk.

Synth looked down at the woman and smiled. "No need to thank me," He replied. "We're in this together-"

A bright flash of pixels suddenly appeared before them, and Sakura squeezed her eyes shut as she shrieked. What was that? A glitch? The World was still quite young… it wouldn't be much of a stretch for that to happen.

But once she opened her eyes, her heart dropped. Standing in front of her and Synth was none other than the one they meant to take out in the first place, flanked by two people armed with guns that obviously belonged to the Shadowbyte soldiers; Jazz's shotgun and Synth's assault rifle. A gleaming sword was grasped in the armored man's hand, and his eyes were locked on the pair.

It was Xisumavoid. And he had found them.

“Bloom, Mimic,” Xisuma started. He took a small step forward towards the pair of escapees. “Just drop the knives, okay? Give me the knives.”

Sakura’s eyes darted around in a panic, and she clutched her shiv tighter. There had to be a way out of that situation. They could run away- no, Xisuma could teleport, and the two people next to him had guns. Maybe they could try and fight- no, that wouldn’t be smart either! She couldn’t even run! What could they do?!

Her mind continued to race, and every idea she came up with sounded more ludicrous than the last. She had to come up with something. Anything! But soon, a grim realization crept into her mind.

They failed. She failed. Failed. As a soldier, as a colleague… 

A sad sigh escaped her mouth. She really did have no other choice, didn't she? So, full of regret and shame, she closed her eyes and tossed the makeshift blade onto the dirt at Xisuma's feet.

It was over.

~~~~~

There was a tense and awkward silence in the stuffy air. Xisuma had taken Sakura back down into the bunker, but to her surprise, he didn’t take her to her cell. Instead, he took her straight to the infirmary and let her sit down on an empty bed. At that moment, he was wrapping up her ankle in thick white gauze, which she found extremely odd.

It didn’t exactly help that half of the people in the room were throwing weird or dirty glances in her direction.

Not much had changed since the last time she had seen the infirmary. All she noticed was that Grian was there now, and thankfully alive. He appeared to be unconscious in one of the beds, his torso completely wrapped in bandages. A small crimson stain could be seen slowly blooming through the white gauze covering his side. Several empty glass bottles lay on the metal table next to his bed, filled with the faint residue of a glowing pinkish red liquid. Healing or regeneration potions, perhaps. And a lot of them.

A small question formed in her mind, and she became slightly confused. Xisuma was a hacker… and he had the ability to heal himself, as far as she knew. Coda shoved a sword right through his heart, and yet he survived. Why wasn’t he healing the others? He didn’t have to use potions and brews.

She thought that maybe he could only use invincibility hacks. But she soon realized an immediate contradiction with that. Invincibility hacks were based on healing hacks. A hack that branched off of another, in a sense. He had to have learned to heal before he could make himself temporarily immortal. It didn’t make sense.

But Sakura had to shake the question out of her mind. She had things right in front of her to focus on. Much more important things. Like the fact that the one who was supposedly her enemy was attempting to patch up her broken ankle.

Why would Xisuma do that? He may not have killed any of her teammates, but it was still odd. Maybe he just wanted them all alive in order to press charges once he was able to contact the authorities in outside Worlds. There were so many questions, and yet so few answers. 

She needed answers. Answers made her feel more at ease. She wanted to try and ease the tension, as well. To her, conversation was the best form of therapy.

The brunette cleared her throat. "So… you know who we are, don't you?" She asked.

Xisuma remained silent, and his posture went rigid at the mere mention of the secretive army. His hands stopped working on Sakura's ankle. "...yes. We do." He eventually spoke, almost sounding like he was trying to hold back his anger, and he went back to dressing the woman's wound.

Sakura didn’t exactly blame him for being mad. She knew what her and the rest of the byte had done; injured many of his colleagues (including himself), put several lives on the line, caused countless amounts of damage. The list went on.

And she felt horrible for it.

She couldn’t help but feel guilty for her role in the chaos. She let her mech explode. She knew she already took one life; and with how Python was, there was the possibility of her taking another. There was no way he could survive without more people giving him medical assistance.

...and then an idea came to her mind. "C...can I ask you something?"

Xisuma didn't return his gaze. However, he still spoke. "Yes. You may." He said.

Sakura gulped and cleared her throat. “I-it’s… it’s about one of your colleagues… Python.” She started. “I… I think I can help him.”

This time, the hacker glanced over at her. His brows were furrowed, confused by her statement. “What do you mean?”

The brunette was silent for a moment. Should she really do this? Her doing what she was about to do could have dire consequences. Perhaps not with Xisuma and his colleagues, but with her own. Angel, Synth, Nix, Grey, everyone. 

But even if Xisuma and the other W.E.S. operatives were technically considered the enemy, she didn’t mean for this to happen. She couldn’t stand idly by and watch someone die because of something she did. Especially when she knew she could help. Her heart couldn’t take the weight of that much guilt.

"Bloom?" 

Xisuma’s slightly muffled voice drew her back into reality. She had to make her choice.

Sakura looked back up at the green-armored hacker, took a breath, and pointed to the cog patch on her dirty and torn up jumpsuit with a mechanical finger. "I work with cybernetics. A lot. I make them, design them, install them. And from what I saw, Python needs good ones, and quick."

Part of her mind was screaming at her, demanding what she was doing, demanding she stay with where her loyalties resided. She made an oath to the Shadowbyte Army, to Ecryptos, the day of her enlistment. She could remember every line, every word, every sentence she said like it only happened yesterday. After all, she stood face to face with the legendary general, like every other recruit would on their own day of enlistment. It helped make the words stick. Especially the most important part of the whole entire thing...

“I, SakuraDot, hereby pledge that under any circumstances, I will remain loyal to my fellow soldiers and General of the Shadowbyte Army, Ecryptos.”

Now she was on the verge of breaking that oath. But part of her was somewhat accepting of that fact. Since there was absolutely no chance of escaping now and her identity as a Shadowbyte soldier had been revealed, she figured she might as well try and do the right thing, according to her morals. To try and make up for the thing she regretted so deeply.

So she took a breath, opened her mouth, and took the plunge. “I want to help you save Python.”

The whole room went silent at her statement, and she saw several pairs of eyes lock onto her. Even Xisuma was staring in shock.

"...I'm sorry, what?" The hacker asked, obviously taken aback. 

Sakura repeated herself. "I want to help you."

"But… why?" A new voice spoke up. It was Doc, all the way on the other side of the room. "Why the hell would you want to help us?! You and your buddies just tried to kill us a few days ago!"

"He's right!" Another person, False, spoke next. She had her blue eyes locked on Sakura. "Because of you, we're all stuck in this mess! And one of us is on the verge of dying!" She gestured to Python in his bed. "What makes you think we're going to trust-"

"Doc, False, please!"

Xisuma's voice pierced the air, and he flew his hands out. Static burst from his fingertips, and both Doc's and False's voices stopped, even though their lips kept moving. He muted them.

His two colleagues soon realized what had happened, and they stopped their silent ranting. They locked their eyes on him in shock, but he turned his gaze away and returned it to Sakura. "They have a point, Bloom," He said, sighing a bit. "Why would you suddenly want to help us? After what you and the others did?"

The brunette fell silent. She almost didn't want to admit why she wanted to help. What was she supposed to say? That she suddenly had a change of heart and wanted to go to their side? Sure, she felt terrible and caved from the guilt, but deep down, she knew her loyalty to the Army remained intact. Once a Shadowbyte soldier, always a Shadowbyte soldier.

"...do you really think I have anything else to lose?" She mumbled, just loud enough to be heard. It was the best answer she could come up with.

Xisuma was silent for what felt like minutes. She could feel her heart start to sink. Was he going to reject her offer? 

He then let out a long sigh, making her even more anxious of what he was going to say. "...alright. I believe you. But you're going to be under constant supervision, got it?"

Sakura nodded eagerly. He had agreed! "Yes."

"Good." Xisuma then stood up from the end of the bed and held out a hand for the woman to take. She hesitated for a brief moment at the gesture. But she soon shook off her fear and grasped his hand, and let him help her off the bed and start to hobble over to Python's bed, despite the pain in her ankle.

"He should be waking up soon," The hacker said as they got to Python's bedside. "So you won't have to wait too long." He was silent for a moment, and Sakura realized he was looking down at her injured foot. "I… should probably get you a pair of crutches. I think there's a pair somewhere around here..."

Before she could say anything, the man in green armor suddenly disappeared in a burst of greenish blue pixels, making Sakura jump and let out a shriek. She could feel everyone's disapproving eyes on her, and she hated it.

Thankfully, not a moment later, Xisuma reappeared, now holding a pair of dusty grey and white crutches. "These should work. They're a bit old, but shouldn't break." He held them out to her, and, wanting relief, Sakura immediately took them into her hands and stood up. They were slightly taller than she would have liked, but they were better than nothing at all.

And it wasn't a moment too soon. Because Sakura heard a brand new voice, and once she turned her head, she saw that Python was beginning to wake up.

The creeper had stirred a bit, and shifted his head to the side. His brows furrowed as he let out a small wince, before his one eye cracked open and landed on Xisuma. "X…?" He asked, his words slurred. "Is that you…?"

Although Sakura couldn’t see most of his face, she saw the corners of Xisuma’s eyes wrinkle a bit, as if he were attempting to smile. “Yeah. How are you feeling, man?” He asked, slowly sitting down next to Python on the bed.

The creeper blinked his remaining eye, and shifted his focus further onto the hacker. “Confused… stupid...” He croaked, before letting out a harsh wince and tensing up. “And in pain… a lot more pain…”

The wrinkles around Xisuma's eyes smoothed out. His smile had disappeared. "Yeah… the pain killer's probably wearing off by now…" He glanced over to the other side of the room for a moment, at a man with grey hair in a white lab coat. "Cub? You mind giving Python more morphine? If we have any left in the crate over there?"

"No problem, man."

Python glanced at the stump where his missing right arm was as the man named Cub walked over, a large needle filled with a clear liquid in his hand. "...I guess I'm gonna have to also be a leftie now, huh? Not just a crippled?" He gestured to the spot where one of his legs used to be. "Didn't imagine I'd be like this at twenty five…"

The hacker was quiet, but he then cleared his throat. "Not if we can help it," He assured as Cub grasped Python's remaining arm and began feeling for a vein. 

Python cringed as the man in the lab coat stuck the needle in his arm and injected some of the colorless substance. "What do you mean…?" He asked.

Xisuma gestured to Sakura beside him. "This is Bloom. She's going to be helping us make you some cybernetics."

Sakura gave an awkward smile and waved. "Hello."

The red creeper gazed at the brunette for a moment, ignoring Cub as he walked away, before his remaining eye widened a bit. "W-wait…" He started, and his brow furrowed. "She's one of those hackers, isn't she? The ones that came here?" He growled. It was obvious that even in his semi-groggy state, he still had some idea of what was going on around him.

The brunette was about to speak up, but Xisuma cut her off just as she opened her mouth. "Yes, she is," He stated. "But she isn't going to do anything to you. Not under my watch."

"Hmm…" Python lifted his tired eye up to Sakura. He was obviously still suspicious of her. “Well… if you do try to hurt me, X’ll probably split you in half…” He said, looking off to the side. The hairs on the back of Sakura's neck stood on end at the statement. 

“And I don’t think you want to die… and neither do I, to be fair.” He continued and let out a small laugh, as if trying to lighten the tense mood. The new dose of drugs were starting to take effect. “So I think I can trust you. Whatever you need to do, go ahead.”

The brunette let out an internal sigh of relief. Thank goodness for the morphine; now she could actually help.

"Well… That settles that, then," Xisuma said, catching Sakura's attention. He cleared his throat. “You need anything to get started?”

“Umm… I just need a tape measure and a notepad right now.” She replied, still slightly on edge. “Oh, and a pen, too.”

The hacker nodded, and flicked a gloved hand upwards. Before the woman could even blink, several objects flew past and made her jump, every one ending up in Xisuma’s palm. A small notebook, a black pen, and a length of rolled up tape measure. “Here you are.” He said, holding them out to her. “If you need anything else, just ask me or Cub.” He gestured over to the grey-haired man in the lab coat, now busy tending to Grian.

Still surprised by the sudden display of just how skilled Xisuma was with hacking, she hesitantly took the trio of items into her own hands. “O-of course. Will do.”

As soon as Sakura ended her sentence, Xisuma gave her a nod, before disappearing in a flash of pixels and static. Leaving her all alone with the remaining W.E.S. members.

As nervous as she was, she had to get to work. 

The brunette turned around and went back to Python's bedside, and unravelled the tape measure to measure Python's remaining leg. She needed as much information as possible to make cybernetic limbs and augments that were a perfect fit. Clicking her pen, she wrote the measurement down in her notepad.

"Hey."

Sakura glanced over her shoulder, and saw one of the injured glaring at her. False. "Hmm?"

"You hurt him, and I'll be the one snapping you in half," The blonde growled, making Sakura stiffen a bit.

"False," Cub spoke out to the woman. It was obvious how tired he was with how he let out a sigh afterwards. "Whether we like her or not, Bloom knows how cybernetics work. Just let her do whatever she has to do."

"What he said!" Python spoke up, his words becoming more slurred from the morphine injection. He then lazily poked Sakura's cybernetic arm. "Besides Falsie, she can just lend me a new hand now! She has one right here! And now I can be cool like Doc, too!"

Sakura let out an accidental chuckle at Python’s loopy behavior. “Just hold still.”

As she continued to take the measurements and notes she needed, her mind began to wander. First, it led her to thinking about Lucky. Why didn't anyone see him during the escape? Did he get caught before he could even attempt to meet up with the others? She could only wonder.

And then her mind travelled to two more people; Coda and Grey. She hadn't seen them since they had split up from her and Synth. She knew for certain that the two soldiers weren't back in the bunker; if they were, she would have heard Coda’s complaining and cursing by now.

As much as Sakura didn't want to admit it, she knew that even if the two soldiers had succeeded in shaking the W.E.S. employees off their tail, there was no chance of them actually escaping the World. Their hacks had been drained, just like everyone else's. And even if they weren't, and they somehow managed to get past the World border and the multiple firewalls beyond it, they had no equipment or weapons to defend themselves with. Given that the massive worm was likely still out there prowling in the Void, they would more than likely be torn to shreds if they came across it.

All she could do was silently hope they would both come back safely. 

[thouroghly-inconsequential]

A day in the life - Patton angst

Warnings: angst, swearsy, self hatred, negative self talk, thoughts of suicide, bad writing, a mention/suggestion of cuddling at the end, food mention, let me know if I missed anything! Also the bits in italics are Patton’s internal monologue.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, mostly hurt, a dash of platonic moxiety at the end, 

Patton woke unfortunately to the sound of his alarm beeping. 6.00, as always. Why bother getting up? No one wants to see you; you never do anything important. He grumbled and rolled over, maybe five more minutes. His stomach growled. Oh, you’re hungry? What gives you the right to eat? Are you really so selfish as to waste a valuable resource on yourself? He huffed to himself, pushing his feet into his bunny slippers. Surely one piece of toast wouldn’t hurt? Wouldn’t it? Selfish waste of space. No, one piece would be fine.

He drearily wandered downstairs to see Logan already up, drinking his coffee, and deeply engrossed in a book. He doesn’t want to see you, he hates you. Go back to bed where you aren’t a problem to anyone.

“Good morning, Patton” Logan said without looking up from his book.

“Morning Lolo!” Patton answered brightly. Liar. “Whatcha reading?” he elongated his words with his usual tone, if Logan thought there was something wrong it could bother him. And then because he’s kind he’d try to help, and then he’d be wasting his time, and no. Patton could not have that. You’re already too much trouble, a waste of time and space.

Logan looked at Patton with a -mocking- teasing look and waved his copy of the Silmarillion in his general direction.

“Same as yesterday, Patton.” Patton nodded and chuckled to himself. Stupid, stupid, STUPID. He poured himself a cup and put his toast on. He sat down, not too close to Logan, -because if you sit too close you’ll annoy him, he’ll hate you. He hates you. You don’t deserve love- because it was easier to get to the toaster from that seat.

Just as his toast popped up, Roman busted into the kitchen, already dressed and made-up flawlessly. He’s so much better looking than you. Not that it’s hard. You’re so ugly, and fat, and useless.

“Morning Roman! Would you like some coffee?”

“Indeed, I would! Thanks Padre!” Roman danced over to the toaster, ruffling Logan’s hair as he went.  Everyone here is so talented. Except you. Everything you do is wrong. And they’re just too kind to kick you out. You don’t deserve them. You don’t deserve anything. Roman sat between Logan and Patton, stealing the jar of crofters still on the table, much to Logan’s dismay. Don’t get any ideas. If you tried to do that you’d be out. Why give someone as unimportant as you something they love so much?

Last but not least, everybody’s favourite storm cloud walked in, chugging the last of the coffee.  Oh look, another person who hates you. Not that I can blame them. You’re pretty easy to hate. Virgil sat down without a word, curling his legs up in front of him.

“Do you want some breakfast kiddo? We have the gay-swimming-rings if you want some!” Virgil chuckled -at you, he’s laughing at you, you’re so hilariously pathetic- at the family nickname for fruit loops.

“That sounds great, thanks Patt.”

He’s just being polite. He doesn’t need your help. He doesn’t want it. Why are you still trying?

Patton smiled and got Virgil his bowl.

Once Patton sat back down again, Logan began to go through the list of what needed to be done today. Uh oh! Look which useless unhelpful piece of shit forgot his pen, now you’re gonna have to bother Logan asking about your responsibilities all day! Oh well, now he hates you even more. Why are you so incompetent?

“Uhh, Logan? Sorry to be a pain, but do you think you could put that on the fridge door? I just don’t want to forget anything!” Patton smiled brightly again in an attempt to make the request seem as sweet and unimportant as possible.

“Of course, Patton, but don’t worry, just get the red things done first, they’re most important.” Patton nodded a quick and vigorous thank you to Logan before collecting up the breakfast stuff and starting on the dishes.

Finally, something useful for you to do. Heh, knowing you, you’ll probably screw it up though.

After that he had been asked to clean the kitchen.

Maybe if we don’t clean the kitchen we’ll get food poisoning and die. That would be good.

And then Logan wanted some input into the upcoming video.

He’s just doing it to make you feel included. He doesn’t actually want your help, who would? Your opinion doesn’t matter. You don’t matter.

And by then it was lunch. Patton washed his hands and made some classic grilled cheese for them all. Good. If you make it ok, they might not be as angry with you as normal.

“How has everyone gotten on with their tasks? Patton, it’s nice to see that you’ve completed yours already.” He doesn’t mean that. “Roman?” He only had one more to do, and he seemed pretty happy with himself. “Virgil?” He had two more to do, but that was normal, he had gone straight back to bed after breakfast.

“Lo, ‘cause you don’t have any left, and you’re good at organising stuff, could you help me tidy up later?” He doesn’t want your help, your awful at everything. You destroy everything you touch. You can’t do anything. He hates spending time with you.

“Of course, Virgil.” Logan knows it too. Virgil hates you. Everyone you love hates you. Everyone hates you. The words began to fill Patton’s head even more than usual. He stood up and offered a pathetic excuse as to why he was going to his room. But the others let him go without an argument. The don’t care. You could kill yourself and they wouldn’t care. Just kill yourself already. He curled onto his bed, holding his not-so-stuffed bear close as though it were someone who loved him. He didn’t cry into it though, like he had done, so many times before. No, he just lay there and let the words consume him.

 “Lo, I’m worried about Patton.”

“Virgil, in the most respectful way possible, you are always worried.”

“Seriously! I dunno, but he just didn’t seem ok!”

“And what’s to be done about it? If he doesn’t talk to us, there’s not a lot.”

Virgil nodded meakly and went back to tidying, devising a plan.

As soon as he finished, he rushed to Patton’s room. Knocking, he peaked his head around and saw his best friend sleeping, cuddling his bear. Sighing he went in. On the one hand, they needed to talk, on the other hand, Patton needed rest. Virgil ran his hand through Patton’s hair. He was so cute when he slept. And if Virgil joined him for a little, curled up in bed, mumbling “I love you”s and words of encouragement, well, who’s to say.

[iknownothingihearnothing]

Game of Thrones 8.3 “Battle of Winterfell”

HOLY SHITSICKLES, YOU GUYZ!

That episode was AH-MAZING. I know it wasn’t exactly the shower of death we expected--I mean, there was TONS of death, don’t get me wrong, but our ultra-beloveds are still safe...for now--but it was still epic. Totally worth having to squint for over an hour at a laptop screen brought obscenely close to my face.

Honestly, I thought it was just me until I logged onto Twitter after the episode and everyone was like:

I also made the grievous error of signing into social media before the episode aired and I saw that “Arya” was trending. I thought that she had been killed and I was about to riot. 

My brother had actually seen the episode before me--we share an HBO Go account with my uncle because as a lifelong bachelor, he can afford all those channels we cannot--and when I turned it on the battle was at the midway point; I was spoiling myself. I texted my bro “I WILL KILL YOU” and he replied with an emoji of a house. IDK if he plans to defend himself with a house or hide in a house or drop a house on me like I’m the Wicked Witch of the East.

As the episode opens, it’s nighttime (of course it is), and Sam’s hands are shaking because it’s really fucking cold. The Winterfellians are ushering everyone who ain’t fighting into the supposedly SAFE IT’S SO SAFE YOU ALL WILL BE SO MUCH SAFER crypt and performing last minute prep. Theon and Co are wheeling BranBot to the Weirwood tree where he will be used as bait to lure out the Night King. 

Sansa and Tyrion and Co. are up on the ramparts. Sansa, naturally, does not look very excited for this party.

The actors’ also. They had to shoot 55 nights in a row.

We get our first glimpse of Drogon and Rhaegal of the episode, AKA the Good Dragons. Because we need to decipher on this show. 

Everybody’s in position. The canons are ready. The awesome catapults are ready. The Dothraki are ready. The Unsullied are ready. 

All the animals, too, are in place. Including Ghost!

Jon/Aegon approaches Dany and her dragons on a hill overlooking Winterfell so they can get a decent view of the happenings below and get better air on their dragonplanes. 

There is SO much to unpack with Jon and Daenerys. They have lots of, uh, “stuff” to deal with, like that he’s technically her nephew and she’s more concerned that he has a claim (and a bigger one) on the Iron Throne than that he’s her blood relation and they’ve had lots of sexy sex. And also that the brother she grew up hearing raped Lyanna Stark actually loved her and married her in secret, thus producing Jon. 

But, er, now is not the time and they know that so they gots to put aside their feels and kick some ice zombie butt and save humanity. I imagine this is how Sophia Bush felt when she still had to work with Chad Michael Murray on One Tree Hill knowing he cheated on her with a teenaged extra. 

Sort of. Minus the whole “we might die” part.

Melisandre rides up after being in Volantis all this time. Remember how she said she’d come back to Westeros just one more time? Well, that time is here. The Red Woman asks Jorah to tell the Dothraki to lift their swords, which he hesitantly does. Melly grasps the front dude’s Arakh, chants some freaky Lord of the Light mojo, and then all the Arakhs, one by one, become alight in flames like Beric Dondarrion’s.

Even Tormund is awed.

The Red Woman continues on, wishing “Valar morghulis” to Grey Worm, who instantly returns with “Valar dohaeris”. Davos, up in the ramparts, having been warily watching Melly, finally gives the order to open the gate. He...is not a fan of Melisandre. She may have brought back Jon from the Great Beyond but she burned Shireen alive. 

However, now is not the time for disputes among the Team Alive population. If they wanna beat Team Undead, they gotta work together. 

Davos goes to meet her and she assures him that there is no need to execute her or anything cus she’ll be dead before dawn. 

Davos:

Up on the roof, Arya catches Melly’s eye. And she don’t look like she’s throwing out the welcome banns.

Melisandre is on there because she kidnapped Gendry all those seasons ago. You know, to do that sexy, leechy blood magic on him. 

And BOOM. The first wave sets off. Mostly consisting of Dothraki on horseback, with Jorah  leading them into battle. Huge alight boulders are also placed inside catapults and set flying. Ghost is seen running beside the horses, teeth gnashing.

Srsly, they need to save that direwolf. The PTB at GoT have already killed the other wolves, with the exception of Nymeria, who has run free, and David and D.B. have confirmed that Crazy Cersei killed Ser Pounce after Tommen died. There is NOT a good track record with pets on this show. 

All the Dothraki race into the fray to meet the undead, ululating and shouting war cries in the Dothraki language. They’re proud. They’re confident. They are WARRIORS. They know what they’re doing. They’ve been raised on this shit.

And then...

That’s the ENTIRE DOTHRAKI HORDE! Just...gone in a few minutes, holy shit .Did GoT just erase the Dothraki?! Just like that, what the fuck?!

Anyone else feel indignant on behalf of the Dothraki? 

Jaime looks like he’s about to shit his Iron Pants.

The second wave all look at each other like “WE ARE SO FUCKED” until some animals and finally people--including Jorah--return to the line. Ghost better be one of them! 

Up on the hill, Dany’s in a panic because, again, the dead desecrated her entire Dothraki forces. And she is understandably devastated; they weren’t loyal to Jon, they were loyal to her. She was their Khaleesi. Their original plan was for them to remain on the hill and take flight there and wait for the dead to come to Winterfell’s gates but we all know that ain’t gonna happen. Jon, awkwardly, tries to intervene when Dany begins to leave, but Dany perseveres. The dead are already here and the Night King is a-comin’.

 On the line, everyone’s waiting with bated breath. Sam looks about ready to pass out. Tormund’s glorious red mane blows in the wind, which the captions keep telling me “whistles”, so I know it is strong. Grey Worm puts on his helmet. The Unsullied army bend and position their weapons and....

The ensuing scuffle is pretty much insanity and confusion. There are dead body parts mixed with the same people we know and love trying to fight them off and, like, totally forever kill them. Brienne shouts “STAND YOUR GROUND!!” like a badass but is immediately overwhelmed and Jaime, upon glimpsing his CO and fellow knight (and maybe something more?) going down in the mud, jumps in to help her. 

Dany and Jon ride in on the backs of Drogon and Rhaegal and it is never not awesome watching dragons spitting fire at their human overlords’ enemies.

Up on the roof of Winterfell, Arya and Sansa are flabbergasted as they watch with dismay the battle below. The blood, the fire, the (good) dragons. Finally, Arya turns to Sansa and implores her sister to get into the (VERY SAFE EVERYONE WILL BE SAFE THERE SWEARSIES) crypt.

Sansa doesn’t know how to use it, she is not trained in combat. Arya just tells her to stick the wights with the pointy end.

Good advice, Arya!

At the Weirwood tree, Theon and Co. are doing their bestest to keep the BranBot safe while he attempts to lure Ol’ Nighty out of his hidey-hole. And on the battlefield, Jorah falls off his horse decapitating ice zombies, Jaime is going through the dead like toilet paper (or whatever they used back then...what did they use?), and Sam is...well, he’s trying, poor lamb. Ultimately though, he becomes overwhelmed and Mr. Edd has to save his butt.

Sealing his fate.

Stabbed through the back of the head, that is quite dolorous. 

Sansa goes down into the crypt, where all the nearby tenants who have no fight training are gathered already. Wordlessly, a ball of nerves, she meets the eyes of Missandei and Tyrion, the latter of whom, naturally, takes a drink.

I’d drink, too, in that scenario.

In the air, Jon and Dany are on the backs of their respective dragons, which I guess is the ye olde version of aerial warfare, battling the elements as well as the gross horde down below. It’s snowing and raining and they’re stuck in a low hanging cloud or maybe some fog idk I can’t SEE.

Someone shouts to fall back and the gates to Winterfell are opened--by Lyanna Mormont’s command, that pint sized badass--and men start piling in. Grey Worm orders the Unsullied to protect the retreat as best they could and stand their ground, damnit.

Jon finally comes out of the cloud but Dany doesn’t, and he lands with a worried look on his face. More men pour in through the gates while Brienne and Jaime usher them inside. 

Arya, from the top of Winterfell, uses her archery skillz to take out the munchers creepin’ up behind Woof.

It’s a milestone every teenage girl reaches and it brings a tear to your eye, it does.

Grey Worm gives the order to fall back and light the trench and we the audience are like--

I cannot say enough how dark this episode is. I have my screen up to 100 percent brightness and I am still squinting doing this recap.

He’s really referring to Dany here, whom he’s trying to signal with torches, but she and Drogon are still stuck in that wholly inconvenient cloud/fog thing. Truly, the worst weather has converged on this one location in Westeros on the one night that they really need clear skies. All that’s missing is a hurricane. 

But Davos speaks for us all. 

So, Team Alive is all scrambling around trying to light the trenches with torches but they can’t because they’re kinda preoccupied battling the undead. That is where Melly steps in. After reciting some of that weird mojo in High Valyrian, the deep trenches throughout the Winterfell grounds become alight.

And the rest of us blink our eyes repeatedly in thanks.

The wights are separated from Winterfell behind the trenches and the Hound’s kinda freaking out because he doesn’t exactly like fire, having had his face nearly melted off by his brother, the Mountain. So he disappears. 

Down in the crypt, everyone is hearing all the crazy going on upstairs and Varys is like “At least we’re already in a crypt, eh?” and no one’s amused.

Tyrion is anxious. He wants to be doing something, damnit! Like he did at the Battle of Blackwater. Maybe seeing something that no one else has figured yet. But Sansa, Lady of Hindsight, tells him to sit his ass down. It won’t do anyone good if Tyrion joins the Army of the Dead. Tyrion makes a smartass remark about how there is no organization less suited to his abilities and Sansa, Milady Logic, is all “Witty remarks won’t help you, all we can do now is wait. That’s why we is down here, because we can’t do nothin’” and Tyrion pauses before--

Tyrion, Lord of Winterfell? A Lannister?! Why not? Weirder shit has happened on GoT. Weirder shit is happening right now.

Then, Sansa squashes that by laying this on the table: it’d never work between them because of the Dragon Queen. Their divided loyalties would come between them. But before Tyrion can reply, Missandei, who has been eavesdropping on their convo, cuts in like “Yeah, damn that Dragon Queen! Y’all wouldn’t have to worry about that crap without her because...we’d all be dead, so...”

Whatever you think of Dany, there is no way the North would live without her and her armies and dragons. They’d be overrun within minutes. 

At the Weirwood tree, Theon and Co. have formed a barrier before BranBot. Theon remarks that the trenches have been lit, then, haltingly, turns to BranBot and starts to apologize for, yanno, turning on the only family that ever loved him and claiming Winterfell for himself. 

Dime store psychics around the globe should replace their crystal balls with miniature BranBots.

Then he says he’s going to go now, just like that, and he wargs into a raven to find the Night King’s position.

Gee. Why didn’t I ever think of that to get out of conversations? 

“Hey, Bee, how’d you do on your stats exam?”

“...oh, uh, I did, er, ok. I’m gonna go now.” Wargs into chicken. 

Ah, there’s Ol’ (really Ol’, Ancient Ol’) Nighty, riding Viserion, looking all creepy and stuff.

Not quite, Nighty, not quite.

Zombies are an impatient lot. They’re hungry and dead and they’re doomed to shamble around the earth forever. So, if a few have to be sacrificed in order for the rest of Team Undead to cross the trenches, so be it. One by one, the ice zombies literally throw themselves on the line of fire, sandwiching their ewwie bodies until the rest of the horde can safely use them as a bridge to cross. An Undead Bridge, if you will. 

When Davos realizes what they are doing, the look on his face is quite classic horror movie:

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and the protagonist or whoever hears something or sees something but isn’t quite sure what it is, only knowing that it’s bad mmkay? That is that look.

Davos shouts the order to man the walls of Winterfell. Elsewhere on the battlefied, Jon is still in the same spot he landed, anxious about Dany. He glimpses a dragon emerge from the fog and, at first, he thinks it’s Daenerys but it soon becomes evident that it’s the Night King riding on Viserion.

Winterfell, meanwhile, is all cloaked in a cloud of mud and rain. The soldiers and Northerners are clambering to keep the White Walkers from penetrating the walls of the castle. 

They have to keep them from legit climbing the damn walls.

If I’m ever a zombie, I want the Night King to make me. Apparently, rigor mortis is not a thing in wights.

The wights keep climbing until some of them start to get over the wall despite Jaime, Brienne, et. al. slicing off head after head. They just keep coming. The Team Undead horde is massive.

I bet the denizens of Winterfell are wishing for a nice, stationary mall right about now.

Soldiers are going over the railings, Sam’s whimpering butt has to be saved again, and the Hound is utterly frozen. It’s all just anarchy. 

Beric and his Flaming Sword of Justice attempt to get Woofie’s attention again but to no avail. Arya’s doing her thang with her pointed staff, taking out wight after wight with Davos looking on, impressed (knight or not, you have been bested by a teenager, old man).

And then, this:

ZOMBIE GIANTS!

ZOMBIFIED MOTHAFUCKIN’ GIANTS. 

“Fee, fi, fo fum, I smell the blood of EVERYONE.”

It pushes her to the side like she’s a goddamn sack of potatoes and it’s smacking people around with its club like they’re nothing but rag dolls. Arya falls down a set of stairs as wights group in to attack her and smacks her forehead on the side of a wall. Not up to her usual Faceless Man self after that, she stumbles and nearly falls off the roof, which finally energizes the Hound to action. 

On the ground, Lyanna’s had enough of being tossed around by White Walker McGigantor. 

She screams, races toward it, it grabs her in its huge fist, and, blood pouring out of her mouth and nose and it crushes her, she STABS IT THROUGH THE FRIGGING EYEBALL.

It’s a fitting end for an awesome character. Lyanna made such an impression on everyone and her cumulative screentime was just over fifteen minutes on the show.

In the air, Jon and Dany are finally reunited again when out of nowhere sails the Night King and his trusty Undragon.

Looks like someone has been chewing too much Winterfresh!

Viserion lets loose a stream of Winterfresh friendly fire and Daenerys ducks and whimpers as her undead baby tries to kill her. When the Night King sails off, Jon and Dany look at each other before mutually agreeing in some unspoken communication to dive.

Aww, they are communicating without words already! Bestill my lowkey-shipping-for-incest heart.

In Winterfell, the White Walkers have managed to break into the halls of the castle and, in less...white climes, they look less frozen and more, well, zombie. Arya, with her trusty staff, is attempting to sneak through her ancestral home without alerting Team Undead.

Unfortunately, she stumbles into the library and, weird, there are a lot of wights in the library. I didn’t know ice zombies were such avid readers.

What? Ice zombies need wank material, too, you know.

That is, if their genitals haven’t fallen off.

Our girl is creeping through the library, dodging errant undead in her wake. Desperately, she dives under a table, but the blood from her head wound is dripping on the floor, which attracts a nearby wight.

You know, like a shark.

The wight bends down and almost catches her, giving us all a mini heart attack, but Arya is gone. Phew.

BT-dubbs, that wight is none other than Javier Botet, who has made a sort of career playing monsters, including as the Leper in 2017′s It. 

He was cast on purpose because he can contort his body in absurd ways. And I apologize for making you look at the Leper again. Yeesh. 

Grabbing a book, she sails it across the floor to distract the zombies, runs into one going around the corner who then meets the fun end of her blade, and escapes the library. 

Who knew a library could be so dangerous?

Arya escapes into a chamber and softly closes the door behind her, leaning back against it. She seems to be safe for a moment and then--

Ser Brus of House Bannyr. He’s a buddy of the Mountain.

Wights start pouring in and Arya runs. She runs, runs, runs--down through the narrow, damp, ill-lighted walls of Winterfell, bleeding from her head wound. 

Meanwhile, just below her down in the crypt--

It’s SAFE it’s so SAFE, you guys.

The denizens of the crypt wait with bated breath and gasp when two desperate soldiers ram against the crypt door, begging to be let in. Sansa looks conflicted, wanting to help the soldiers but not at the cost of any of her people. 

In the corridors, Beric Dondarrion and his Flaming Sword of Justice and the Hound are tiptoeing through Winterfell when they hear battling and growling noises (thank you, captions) and Arya falls through a doorway with wights quickly after her. The Hound picks her up and they all race down the hall, Beric throws his sword at a couple of White Walkers but they soon begin to overwhelm him. Arya gazes back at him in desperation as the Hound tries to get her away, and Beric is stabbed by one of Team Undead. He stands there, limbs akimbo face aloft as if praying to the Lord of the Light.

I love this scene. It further underscores how much Arya has come to mean to the Hound. Before, he was frozen, nothing could jolt him out of his panic but the image of Arya in peril. And he spends the rest of the episode fighting not so much for the living but for her. 

Beric manages to stumble down the hall after Arya and the Hound and they lock a door behind him. Arya sits him against a wall while the Hound barricades the door with anything nearby.

Muttering unintelligibly, the man who was resurrected six times closes his eyes forever.

 Melisandre appears behind them after Beric passes, letting them know that he served his purpose. Arya knows her; the Red Woman promised her that they’d meet again and there they are. She also promised that Arya would close many eyes in her young life, which was also right. Brown eyes. Green eyes. And blue eyes. 

The wights are growling and scratching at the door, eager to come in and kill and feast on human flesh and blood. Arya stares while Melly bends down and whispers in her ear--

At the Weirwood tree, the wights are finally a-comn’ for BranBot and Theon and his men get into position with flaming arrows (I am now really in the mood for smores). Simultaneously, Dany/Drogon, Jon/Rhaegal/ and Ol’ Nighty/Viserion are duking it out in the air above them, the archers below attempting to knock the Undragon out of the sky. 

It’s like a WWII aerial dogfight, but with dragons. So, like, a dragonfight.

Someone has entered his rebellious goth phase!

Srsly, what other show offers a mid-air dragon fight?

The dragonfight ends, somehow, only with the Night King falling off his chosen Undragon.

Rhaegal makes a shaky landing--there is plenty of turbulence in the North, after all--and Jon rolls off his favorite dragon. Dany continues the hunt for Ol’ Nighty and when she finds him, she gives the order for Drogon to do his thang.

It...doesn’t work out as hoped.

The Night King grins and throws his ice staff at Drogon, the weapon that took down Viserion. Fortunately, the ensuing hit isn’t fatal and Dany turns tail and gets out of there before it is.

Jon whips out his trusty sword and begins following the Night King. But when Ol’ Nighty realizes he’s being followed, he turns around, bestows upon Jon a “teacher catching you doing something naughty” stare, and...does his thang. 

Team Alive desecrated many of your army? Just make a new one like that. Using his dark hippity doo da, the Night King raises all the soldiers (formerly) of Team Alive who fell in battle. And there’s a fucking lot of them. Including fallen Unsullied back at Winterfell’s gates and even Lyanna Mormont. 

At the castle, Jaime and Grey Worm look on in confusion and horror.

New inductees to Team Undead swarm in on Jon as the Night King and some of his disciples make their way to Winterfell. 

In the crypt, it was only a matter of time until this happened:

Y’all need some stronger building materials. This cannot be up to code. What would the leader of the HOA say?

Everyone in the crypt scatters in panic, minus the unlucky few who become Thing Food.

At the Weirwood tree, Theon and Co. are doing their best Robin Hood while BranBot is still checked out. I guess he’s in the raven, trying to get a location on the Night King? BranBot, do us all a favor and crap on his head.

(You missed! He was totally open, Bird! Damn.)

Jon almost gets overwhelmed until Dany and Drogon come to the rescue and manage to char the ice zombies without turning the one guy who is alive into a crispie critter, too. She tells him to go, be the hero we need, and he runs off. 

However, before Drogon can fly off, he, too, is quickly overcome with wights, tearing at his wings, climbing all over his spine. He roars and twists and turns and Dany goes tumbling off.

Drogon flies away with some wights still hanging onto him, trying to get all the annoying dead OFF. They must itch like crazy. 

He leaves his mommy behind and suddenly Dany is alone in a battlefield surrounded by Team Undead. She has no weapons. Her main weapon was Drogon. He is how she defeats her enemies. What the hell is she gonna do now?

One of the wights falls off Drogon and has blue eyes only for Dany. Who is alone. Vulnerable. Fucking sitting in the dirt. 

But, what luck! Jorah of House Fryndzonne appears out of nowhere to decapitate the wight with Heartsbane and protect his Khaleesi. 

I’ve been looking for an excuse to use that. Not a big anime fan but I love Hetalia. 

Jon makes his way back to Winterfell, stickin’ and stabbin’ and gruntin’ and growlin’ and bein’ manly. He’s had it up to here with them ice zombies, you guys.

Theon and Co. are working all the harder to protect BranBot while he’s still Like A Bird. Theon’s men all go down and soon he’s left alone to defend the automaton that was once Brandon Stark.

In the crypt, Tyrion and Sansa are hiding behind a cement monument. Their wordless communication, expressed through the eyes alone, sends a chill down my spine. There is so much unsaid in that mutual gaze, and the acting here is superb. Props to Peter Dinklage and Sophie Turner. 

Sansa, shaking, whips out the dagger Arya gave her, and Tyrion kisses her hand.

If they both live through season 8, maybe those crazy kids could make it work? Tyrion would be a kick Lord of Winterfell. I can see him in a furry cape.

Elsewhere, Viserion is utterly destroying Winterfell.

Dany and Jorah are desperately stabbing at ice zombies on the battlefield. Tyrion and Sansa carefully run out from behind the monument. Jon just barely dodges a wave of blue fire as Viserion continues to destroy Winterfell. Theon is doing is damndest to shield BranBot from the White Walkers, but he’s evidently slowing down.

And then, oh crap, there he is. In slow motion, like he knows all eyes are on him.

Hey yeah yeah, they’re Calyfornya. 

Jorah is working alllllllll his muscles trying to protect his Khaleesi. Jaime and Brienne are backed up against a still standing wall of Winterfell as wights close in around them.

The Night King and his Night Kronies are coming for BranBot.

The remaining wights part for their Icicle Overlord. He stands there glowering down at Theon and BranBot. BranBot tells Theon he is a good man and thanks him and the audience is like--

I thought BranBot wasn’t programmed to say thank you. Ask Meera. 

Theon grasps his pointed staff firmly, yells, and runs toward Ol’ Nighty, who, of course, grabs it and stabs him right through the gut.

Sorry, Theon. You managed to survive Ramsey (and getting your Reek cut off) but the Night King was your undoing. You lasted most of the show, though. That’s more than can be said for most characters.

Speaking of lasting most of the show--

Beric, Theon, now Jorah. Everybody stab now!

Jon is hiding behind some debris. The Night King walks ever closer to BranBot. Jon gets up and screams at Viserion for some reason. BranBot gazes up at the Night King. The Night King begins to reach for his ice sword, and then--

Arya Stark, like the fucking avenging angel she is!

I love that she was the one to destroy the Night King. She and Lyanna Mormont were both frigging awesome this episode.

Moral: don’t mess with a girl.

Maisie Williams said in EW that when she initially read the script she was afraid people would think she didn’t deserve it or something. To that I say pish posh. “Arya” has been trending for days. 

After he explodes, all the wights begin to fall, including Viserion. Team Alive was right. Kill the Night King, his disciples are toast, too.

The crypt people come out of their hiding places and silently view the carnage. Arya looks over at BranBot and smiles a little. BranBot just sits there without offering a thank you. I guess he only malfunctioned that one time with Theon.

Unfortunately, the zombies aren’t the only ones that fall. Jorah is hurt and hurt badly. He buckles on the battlefield, surrounded by inactive wights, bleeding from seeming every orifice. Dany bends down before him, crying and holding his head.

He dies in her arms. A fitting end for Jorah of House Mormont, forever loyal to his Khaleesi.

So is Dany’s dragon.

Aww. That’s...cute. Like a dog with wings. And scales. That breathes fire.

The Hound, Melisandre, and Davos walk out of Winterfell just as dawn is breaking. The Hound and Davos stop at the door but Melisandre keeps going, looking determined. Shedding her trademark red cloak, she marches forward, ridding herself of the ruby necklace that has kept her young for centuries.

And then, growing older before their eyes, she perishes. Her mission is complete.

And that’s the end of the episode. Cue end credits.

Salt and crackers, that took FOREVER. Every free moment I had I was recappin’. But the episode was awesome and the cast says the next episode is even more awesome so I can’t wait!

Now comes the march on King’s Landing, the taking of the crown, and, hopefully, Cersei gonna die. Who’s gonna have her head? Will it be Jaime? Arya? Tyrion? My bet is Jaime.

Also, congats are in order for our Sansa Stark. Sophie Turner got married to Joe Jonas last night after the Billboard Music Awards. In Vegas with an Elvis impersonator presiding, which is fantastic. 

[thebibliomancer]

50 More Days of Comics! 26/50: Alpha Flight #89 (1990)

This book’s marketing strategy: “HEY ANYONE LIKE THE ORIGINAL GUARDIAN? ANYONE? OKAY DAMMIT WE HAVE A WOLVERINE FOR YOU PLEASE BUY THIS BOOK! oh and Puck is back if that’s what you’re into…”

I know next to nothing about Alpha Flight.

I really should.

They’re the X-Spinoff that doesn’t put an X in the title. Someone on tvtropes was liveblogging it and I picked up a few unfortunate tidbits from that.

Recently Alpha Flight has gone from being my second favorite Canadian super-team to being Captain Marvel’s space team. Or Earth-orbit team. Since I happen to think, BENDIS, that a space team should be in space.

The bits of Alpha Flight I’ve read with them in this role I’ve liked. Although I can’t help but wonder if Carol just bought the team from Canada.

Anyway, I wish I knew more about the iteration of the team that’s in this book because it has the one-two whammy of being both continuity heavy and snapback heavy. Not only is current continuity a big thing, previous continuity is a big thing because its being returned to. Also part three of a four part story.

Which has several ongoing plot lines.

Eesh.

I know I say this a lot but this is what recap technology was designed for.

So in one plot line, Shaman, Talisman, Aurora, and Sasquatch are searching for their missing teammate Puck, who was taken by the self-titled Master of the World.

And, uh, they find him. He’s been given a kind of gross makeover with exposed veins and tentacle fingers. But they found him alright.

Sasquatch immediately suggests mercy killing Puck because I guess that’s what he jumps to but thanks to Aurora’s “cleansing burst of light” Talisman and Shaman are able to mystically touch his mind and discover what happened.

In a flurry of continuity, Puck was apparently a dwarf but then it was retconned that he was a dwarf because his body had a demon sealed inside it because of magic but he was injured by the Dream Queen but was healed through supernatural means but on Earth his body rejected the magic so he was dying but the Master of the World wanted to test the limits of the human form and also get revenge on Alpha Flight so he secretly had Puck injected with a genetic compound made of former Alpha Flight foe Scramble and a blood sample of Puck taken years ago when he was still a dwarf so the compound reshaped Puck into a dwarf again but did a bad job of it.

Phew!

Comics that are attempting to retcon things in always have too much information per panel.

Anyway, since Sasquatch used to be a biochemist he understood all of that and also poked around in the Master’s computers and discovered that the compound is still in Puck’s system. So with a little bit of reprogramming, Puck could be put back to normal but dwarf normal because that’s when the DNA sample was from, not whatever normal he had been recently. Sssssnapback!

Also, the strain of having his body restructured might kill him but Puck says to go for it.

So Puck is thrown into a science tube and Sasquatch lays down some technobabble that basically amounts to ‘hey y’all Puck will be a dwarf again and this will be permanent, swearsies.’

Just as the process is started, the Master of the World bursts in with his Remnant Men and scolds Alpha Flight for coming in without knocking, very rude, now gtfo and stop touching his things (explicitly including Puck in that).

Master (of the World): “I do not see this as a degradation then, but rather the contrary… I see this as a reaffirmation of my faith… Faith in pain.”

I know the Master (of the World) from two places: Carol Danvers shanking him during Kurt Busiek’s Avengers run and his run-in with the new Champions where he was rebuilding the melting glaciers by using human suffering. Or something. It’s a bit unclear.

Anyway, he’s a creepus and he’s sending his creeper army to attack the present Alpha Flighters.

But thankfully, just as they’re getting overwhelmed, Puck bursts healed, naked, and spread legged from the science tube with a convenient splash of censoring water.

Puck: “I’m back, eh? Now let’s make short work of this loser!!”

He gets to make short jokes.

Anyway, that’s the end of this plot thread in this issue but if Puck isn’t kicking the Master’s ass while bareassed in the next issue, comics as a medium have failed forever.

In the second plot thread, Vindicator and Wolverine are trying to track down someone named Wild Child who broke out of jail.

Wolverine manages to track Wild Child down to a run down Roxxon gas station bathroom and squats by the toilet to get some good whiffs (which most be horrible with his enhanced sense of smell) and determines that Gamma Flight was here with Wild Child.

Which presents a problem as Gamma Flight is a team and Wolverine and Vindicator are two people.

Vindicator: “Are we up against all of Gamma Flight?”

Wolverine: “Yup. Gotta give ‘em credit fer stickin’ together through this.”

Vindicator: “Credit? They were formed for all the wrong reasons and disbanded for all the right ones. Oh, what am I getting so upset for? I’m so tired – of everything… Why has this team become such a mess? Why am I doing all of this?”

But Wolverine believes in the him that believes in her, or something, and they continue on. At the very least, punching some people will be cathartic. Which I believe is at least 50% of how superheroes work.

Four hours later, they track Gamma Flight down to an abandoned factory. Wolverine immediately leaps into an ambush that he probably suspects is an ambush to force the issue and maybe as an application to the Teen Titans who never met a trap they didn’t waltz into.

Anyway, things get chaotic and incomprehensible for a bit, befitting an ambush. But Team Wolverine and Vindicator Is There Too handle the ambush with something resembling aplomb and when its over Gamma Flight lines up in a row so we can get a team shot and their leader Nemesis (who looks like a Lady Deadpool with a cape) monologues.

Nemesis: “Hello, Vindicator… Wolverine… What is it exactly that you’re looking for besides your own funeral? I hope it’s not Wild Child. I hope you don’t expect us to give him up after all the trouble we went through breaking him out of prison. Because if that’s the case then you’re going to have to answer to us. GAMMA FLIGHT – protects their own!”

Vindicator’s response? “I’m not going to disappoint you, Nemesis. We are here for Wildchild. And we’re going to get him… even if we have to roll over each and every one of you idiots to do it!”

Way to be outnumbered nearly two to one with also aplomb, Vindicator. But as appears to be the trend, if twice is a pattern which it probably is, we don’t get the fight this issue. That’s next issue’s deal.

There’s a loose page that roughly fits into this plot thread. Northstar and Persuasion (a daughter of Purple Man trying to be not a dick like him) are watching their friend Laura in the hospital. Laura was hurt badly by Wild Child which I guess explains why Vindicator is cruising to bruise him.

And Persuasion is sad because not only is her friend hurt but her stupid mind control powers couldn’t do anything to help her only friend.

And Laura is in bad condition. She’s lost a lot of blood and needs a new kidney.

But for arbitrary reasons, even though Laura is O-positive, because she’s a mutant she has weird blood and they need compatible family blood. But Laura sent her only known family, her sister Goblyn, to another dimension. For her own good.

JUST THEN, people claiming to be her parents walk in and ask if they’d be a suitable match. DUN DUN DUN! Dramaaaaaa!

And in tonight’s final plot thread, as the cover promised, the weird return of the original Guardian. His death was apparently one of the earliest big events of the book, happening in issue 12.

So why is he coming back after 77 issues and two in-universe years? God only knows but this is a hard snapback. And this is a hell of a retcon.

They played at bringing Guardian back before. For Reasons, in issues 25-28 per the editorial captions, a robot disguised itself as Guardian and claimed that the explosion that killed him had ripped a hole in time-space and threw Guardian through it. And that he was then saved by aliens and sent back to Earth and had to sleep for ten thousand years during the voyage.

Obviously, this was all a lie.

Samuel Higgins, Roxxon guy: “Ahem. Yes, well. A lie. Hmm. Ahem… well… that crazy story that the robot came up with? About Hudson getting thrust back in time and waking up on Jupiter’s moon – Ganymede – then sleeping cryogenically and getting sent on a spaceship back to Earth? That crazy, whacky, kooky story? Well… it was all true.”

I mean, that’s one way to do it. I wouldn’t personally but it is one way.

Once you start getting into “the lie was a lie!” territory you’ve convoluted a book up fierce. See also: Spider-Man’s Clone Sage 2: This Time Its 90s And Nobody Knows What They’re Doing.

Forge is on scene with Roxxon guy Windshear and Alpha Flighters Box and Diamond Lil and I think Forge puts it best.

Forge: “In this business, death has a habit of making a liar out of the truth.”

Anyway, the not-dead James Hudson aka Guardian is wired up underneath a Roxxon research facility and he’s putting out potent hacking waves that are causing the mechanisms of the facility to go haywire and attack people. And also causing Box to malfunction because he’s a guy in a suit who is a suit. Or something.

I’m not entirely sure. But he fuses with Forge so that Forge can override the hacking and reconfigure the Box suit to overcome Hudson’s various stratagems.

And with enough technobabble, it works! They close in on James Hudson’s cybernetic weirdly crucifix posed nearly naked body.

A lot of beefcake in this comic for people into that.

Box (Madison Jeffries) separates from Forge and attempts to monologue Hudson back to his senses.

Box: “Hudson – Jamie – it’s me – Madison Jeffries – you remember, right? You got me outta the V.A. hospital – told me what had happened in ‘Nam was cool – told me that sometimes things hit the fan and that’s the way it is. Well, I’m here t’tell you the same thing, Jamie.

“Mac – wake up, man! You’re messing things up bigtime here! C’mon – remember who you were – are – ‘member when you recruited me for Department H – I was only in Beta an’ you loved havin’ me hang around – cos’ we had one thing in common – we both loved machines… Guess we both took it sorta to extremes don’tchu think? Well, guess what? We have somethin’ else in common now… maybe we took that to extremes, too…

“Heather. Remember Heather? Yeah. I see your mental imaging. That’s how she looked when you first met her, eh? She looks so young, man… So innocent… beautiful… Uhm… I think I love her, too, now, Mac. She’s a special lady. She never gave up on yer dream when we though you’d died. She kept Alpha Flight goin’ – no matter how rough it got – all ‘cos o’ her faith and belief in your dream, Jamie – in you…”

And being reminded of his wife in short shorts and/or emotional appeal works because Hudson comes out from his stupor and tearfully and droolfully proclaims that he is alive!

Awww. I still don’t know who was clamoring for this character to be returned after so many issues but I’m a sucker for a big in-universe emotional appeal.

Still though. Trying to retcon the book back into shape is not a good environment to attract new readers.

But speaking of sexy Heather, she was drawn with nipple poking through her Vindicator costume in several panels so I’m going to side eye Michael Bair and Mike Manley super hard. It may be a spandex costume but there’s like twelve pounds of circuitry underneath, geez.

Though I guess they also gave the reader Puck lunging crotch first at the reader and Hudson hanging out in only his underwear. So an Attempt Was Made to be fair-handed, I guess?

[greenergrassinsafermeadows]

Chapter 5

  The second time he spent the night, they'd actually bothered to plan it.   "Ok, you win." Craig said through a mouthful of corndog, "Dates are still fun without press coverage... Would've been more fun if you let me try and break open one of the token-vault-whatever things they have on the games. Y'know the ones? Like on the outside?"   "I know the ones Payton, thank you for not breaking any." Clara laughed, leaning back against the cushions of the couch.  He made a noncommittal sound and shrugged, still, it was only a moment or so before Clara felt him nudge her hand with his. She took it with a gentle squeeze. He squeezed her hand twice. She squeezed his three times. Four times Five Six This continued until around 12 before Clara pulled him in closer and kissed his cheek instead of going for 13.   "...So I win?" Clara couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, ok Payton you win."   "Nice." He discarded the naked corndog stick onto the top of the coffee table before leaning over and settling his head in Clara's lap."Hey."   "Hey?" "You ...still like me right?"   Clara frowned slightly, bending forward to kiss his forehead, "Of course I do Payton, why? What's wrong?" "Nothing just- of course you like me I'm great, that was stupid."   "No no it's ok, it's not like I mind repeating it." She kissed him softly, smiling through it, "I like you a lot dude." Craig heaved a contented sigh, eyes slipping closed as Clara slid her fingers through his hair.  “How about…” Clara started cautiously, “you stay in my room tonight?” Craig's eyes snapped open and he shot up. “Are you being serious right now or is this some sick joke?”  “I'm being serious right now, you know my sense of humor is better than that.” Craig's smile grew tenfold as he settled his head back down in her lap. “I knew it, I'm just that irresistible huh?”   “Yeah, sure Payton, ok.” There was no venom in Clara's voice when she spoke, only warmth.

        Settling down next to Clara, Craig shimmied his way under the covers and scooted as close to her as possible. “So…” he looped an arm over her and let his head rest on her shoulder, “This is nice.”     She cocked an eyebrow at him, barely visible in the dim light from the streetlamp outside. “You comfy?” “Mhm. Extremely.” He punctuated the statement by nestling his head further into the crook of her neck. This was a good decision because now she only had to turn her head an inch or so to kiss his forehead.    “You're really warm… Like a tiny space heater.” “I'm two inches shorter than you you jerk.” Craig didn't move away, even as he whined, and Clara gave another kiss to the top of his head.    “I meant that as a compliment, I get freezing anyway. I like it. Its a good warm.” “What if I had a fever and was dying?”    “Do you?” “Maybe, you don't know.”   “Payton. You aren't dying. You're warm and I like this a lot. I'm gonna like it a whole lot less if you keep talking about dying.” “...Fine.”    Clara sighed, shifting slightly to wrap both her arms around him and rest their foreheads against each other. “You're cute.” "I'd say ‘unbelievably hot’ but ok I guess.”   “I told you you were unbelievably warm, does that count?” “Ha ha. You could be a stand up comedian, really.”   “I'm sure I could,” she smiled, “but the law needs me.” Craig fell silent, tensing slightly. “Yea… clearly.” Then, realizing that, alright, that was a bit harsh, he amended “You'll uh… you’ll be pretty busy if- when you get the job in town huh?”   “I'll be busier,” she shrugged. As best as one can shrug while their arms are wrapped tightly around a small furnace of a human being. “I won't be sitting around doing jack shit all day.”   “I like sitting around doing jack shit all day.” “Payton I can't afford to not have a job anymore.”   “Wasn't Claus- like from here- Thespi, wasn't he like your sugar daddy or some shit?” At this, Clara recoiled entirely. Her arms retracting as she practically scrambled to the other side of the bed. “No. No he fucking wasn't Payton.”    He frowned as she pulled away, she wasn't supposed to do that. “Well that's what I thought it was.” “I think that maybe-” she wavered, oh, oh god was she going to cry? That wasn't the goal what the fuck? “Maybe this wasn't the best idea. I can call you a ride or something but Payton I can't-”  “NO!!!!!!” Craig sat up so fast his head spun,this was VERY MUCH NOT the goal. Something in Craig's features seemed to shatter entirely. This was it she was kicking him out and would never speak to him again she'd move on and forget him and-and..   He was shaking his head, and he heard his own voice saying “No no no no no” over and over again while Clara looked on in concern, because now HE was almost crying. “I'm sorry I'm sorry it's not that ok? I was wrong o-ok?! L-look see? I said it out loud a-and everything I didn't know- please Clara please don't- don't-”   Clara didn't move, she let the initial shock of seeing him… do whatever it was he was doing, fade into worry. She heaved a sigh, reaching out and cupping his cheek so he'd looks at her. “You're really actually sorry, or you're sorry because you don't want me to kick you out.”   He didn't respond aside from grabbing her wrist and keeping her hand on him with a vice like grip. “Payton,” she continued, voice tinged with hurt, and, on a deeper level, exhaustion. “It wasn't anything like that, I know- I know he's like another version of your best friend and I'm, me. It must've been weird to watch so if you need to talk about it just. Fine. But that…” She trailed off with another heavy sigh, staring blankly at her lap, “That wasn't ok. At all.”    He was silent for another moment, not letting go of her hand. “I didn't know…” “Didn't know what?! That I have human fucking emotions?” There it was, the frustration she'd tried so, so hard not to let seep into her voice, Craig couldn't help but wince, somehow angry Clara was much, much scarier here.   “I- sorry. Clara. I'm really, actually sorry. I p-promise ok? Swearsies or-or whatever I won't say that shit again. See? It's fine you can stop being mad.” He finally released her wrist, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Exhaling sharply through her nose, Clara let herself flop back over next to him, patting the blanket beside her so he'd lay down. He did, instantly tangling his arms and legs around her in case she suddenly changed her mind.    After a minute or so filled with heavy silence she spoke. “Ok. Apology accepted.” “Oh! I forgot how easily you get over shit haha that's right!”    “Do you want me to unaccept it?” She did not sound impressed, and a little spark of panic flickered in Craig’s eyes again, “Nnno no! That's good! It's a good thing! That you do that!”    Clara rolled her eyes, kissing him once before letting them fall closed, “Go the fuck to sleep Payton.” “Yeah I’ll- I'll go the fuck to sleep.”