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foursideharmony · 4 years

Text

Collateral Damage (Part 2)

Summary: Roman gets into trouble while questing in the Imagination. Rescue arrives, but will the rescuer be all right?

Word Count: 1,372

Relationship(s): Platonic LAMP, with some extra Prinxiety focus

Warnings: It's a whump/hurt/comfort fic, sooooo... Pain, blood, loss of consciousness, description of wounds, general unhappiness, swearing, poison, sickness, clinic/hospital setting, arguing (mild)

“...ncey! Roman!”

Roman came to with a start. Virgil was bent over him, close to panic.

“Oh...there you are, Phase Two,” Roman mumbled with as much pep as he could muster, which was next to none.

“Phase...what are you talking about? Are you delirious?”

The ache of his wounds came back in a rush, and Roman winced. “Not yet.” He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, failed, and weighed the pros and cons of just passing out again.

“No! Stay awake, Roman! You need help and I don't know how to get you back by myself!”

“Right,” Roman said with a little more force. He focused through the pain and summoned a small glass bottle. “Here, give this to Logan when we get back.”

“Didn't you hear me?” Virgil said, coming down off his fright enough that his voice stopped resonating. “I don't know how to get back, Prince Pain-in-the-Butt! I only got here in the first place by following your beacon! Which, by the way,” he added, poking Roman's nose (which was one of the few parts of him not pulsing with pain), “don't set up little magic whatevers that are going to involve the rest of us without telling us first. It's just rude, okay? Come on—can you stand?”

“I guess I'm about to find out,” said Roman.

It took a long time for them to get him upright, and at every step there was more pain and a brief spell of lightheadedness. Roman was sure his ribs were at least bruised, if not cracked, and his thorn-inflicted wounds felt like fire.

“You look like crap,” said Virgil. “Seriously, you're pouring sweat. What did he do to you?”

“I'll be fine as long as you give Logan the bottle,” Roman said.

“So we're going with cryptic? I hope this means you're saving your detailed explanations for how to get back to the mindscape from here.”

“Oh. Right,” said Roman. “That's easy—it's through the red door.”

“Okay, and where is the red door?”

“Wherever you need it to be.”

“Roman!”

“Find a corridor and explore until you see it. It shouldn't take more than a minute or two.”

“O...kay... Come on, then. We're walking now.”

Roman, leaning hard on Virgil for support and now also direction, concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and let himself drift...

~~~~~

Virgil was worried. First of all because that was his job, and second of all because anyone would be worried in these circumstances. Roman had gone unsettlingly quiet. He was still walking, more or less—his legs were moving and his feet were hitting the floor at approximately the right angle—but his lack of response suggested that either he wasn't properly conscious and was moving on autopilot, or had withdrawn into himself to prevent losing consciousness altogether.

It was probably for the best. Roman had obviously been in a lot of pain while they were talking, which meant he was probably hurt pretty badly, and Virgil didn't think he could pick the prince up and carry him without aggravating his injuries. He wasn't bleeding too badly, but the wounds looked very irritated, the surrounding flesh red and swollen. He was developing a waxy pallor to go with the sweating, and that set off all kinds of alarm bells.

Virgil shifted, shouldering more of Roman's weight, and gently steered him toward the nearest archway leading out of the hall. Sure enough, it was a corridor, and Virgil turned the first corner he came to and there was the red door, at the end of the adjoining hallway. “Small favors,” he muttered, all but dragging Roman toward it in his haste to get him to safety and help.

As soon as they were through, in Roman's room proper, Virgil began calling to his fellow Sides, using the Tempest Tongue deliberately, this time, to instill the necessary dismay. “Logan! Patton! We have an emergency here!” He continued to guide Roman out of the room, and the other two met them in the hallway, converging from wherever in the mindscape they had been.

“Oh no, Roman!” Patton wailed. “What happened to him?”

“The Duke,” Virgil said simply. “I didn't see everything, but it took a lot just to get him standing, and...” He dropped his voice for no reason that he could identify. “...I think he's been poisoned.”

Patton made a horrified gasp.

“Roman?” Logan said firmly. “Respond if you can hear me, please.”

“Mmnn,” went Roman. “M'here. Ow.”

“What do we do?” Patton squeaked.

“Firstly, we remain calm,” said Logan. “Secondly, we should move Roman to a location where we can more readily evaluate and treat his injuries.”

“Where's that?” said Virgil. “I don't think we should try carrying him downstairs. It's been worrying enough getting him this far in the shape he's in.”

“Hmmm...” Logan mused. “I know just the place.” He made a sweeping gesture, and the hallway swiveled around them, blurring...and reformed as no less than a medical examination room. Logan's black shirt collar and striped tie peeked out from between the lapels of a white lab coat, and there was a stethoscope slung around his shoulders. Patton and Virgil found themselves dressed in clinical scrubs—Patton's were light blue with a pattern of cartoon dogs dressed as healthcare personnel, and Virgil's were lavender with black bats and spiders.

“Oh,” Virgil said in a small voice. “The Mind Palace clinic.”

Roman lay on the examination table, having settled back into a fitful unconsciousness. Patton immediately went to the cupboards lining one wall of the room and began stacking a tray with rolls of gauze and antiseptic pads sealed in their packaging. Logan manifested a clipboard and began looking over the ailing prince and making notes.

“His temperature is up,” he observed. “I believe you are correct, Virgil. His symptoms are consistent with the presence of a toxin in his bloodstream, and the inflammation of these wounds suggests the vector. Well done.”

Virgil suddenly remembered the bottle Roman had given him and fumbled with his outfit until he found it in a pocket. “I think he knew. He said to give you this.” He set it on Patton's tray as the Moral Side carried it over to the table, getting a good look at himself in the process. It was small enough to fit comfortably in the hand and contained about an ounce and a half of what looked like soda water mixed with a few pinches of gold and silver glitter. It was stopped with a cork, and there was a piece of card attached to it via a slender red ribbon looped around the neck.

Logan picked it up and peered at the card. “Antidote #2,” he read. “Unfortunately, there seems to be no information regarding dosage or even method of administration.”

“I'm no expert or anything,” said Patton, “but if the poison is in his blood, shouldn't we give the antidote to him the same way? Like a shot?”

“It isn't quite that simple, Patton, to say nothing of the concerns regarding timing and—”

“Guys,” Virgil cut in. “You're missing the obvious. This is one of Princey's magic potions. It's not gonna take rocket surgery to figure out.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Rockets are manufactured objects, not living creatures. The practice of surgery does not apply to them.”

“I mean this is simpler than you're making it out to be. It's a potion in a pretty bottle. Get him to drink it.”

Now the Logical Side frowned. “Under the circumstances, that would be...extremely reckless.”

On the table, Roman whimpered in his swoon.

“Okay, you two, enough. Let's not forget what we're actually doing here,” said Patton. He briskly stripped the wrapper off an antiseptic pad and went to work cleaning Roman's scratches. Roman flinched at the touch of the stinging medicine, and Patton leaned down to him. “Roman? Kiddo, can you wake up for us for just a minute? We need to ask you something.”

After a bit more coaxing, Roman opened his eyes a crack. “That's it, just like that,” Patton said in a voice brimming with warmth. “I'll make this quick for you, Roman...we have your antidote but we don't know how we should give it to you. Can you please tell us? Are you able to do that?”

Roman blinked a few times, as if processing Patton's words. Grimacing heavily, he propped himself up on one elbow into a half-sitting position and reached the other hand out half-blindly. “Bottle,” he croaked. Logan quickly handed it to him, and the prince flicked the cork out with his thumb, downed the contents in only a few seconds, and let both the bottle and himself fall—it smashed on the floor, while he flopped back onto the table.

“Told you,” Virgil said quietly.

Shaking his head in a way that was impossible to interpret, Logan joined Patton in resuming treatment of Roman's injuries. Virgil found himself at loose ends—there wasn't really room for a third clinician at the examination table, and without a physical activity to perform, he had no way to distract himself from the unnerving atmosphere of the setting. He found himself backing against the counter where the scrub sink was and drumming his fingers against the hard surface. The hollow-backed stainless steel rang like a cymbal.

“Virg?” said Patton without taking his eyes off his task. “Are you okay over there?”

“Yeah...it's just...I don't have anything to do, and I'm...not digging the whole hospital thing.”

“You are not obligated to stay,” said Logan. “We have this well in hand.”

“I just don't feel right, leaving while Roman still needs help.”

Now they did look up. “You did help him,” said Patton. “You pulled him out of danger and brought him to us, so we can help. Go ahead and get some rest; you're looking pretty worn out.”

Apparently it had taken the observation by another Side for Virgil to notice his own exhaustion, but he suddenly felt his energy take a nosedive. “Yeah,” he agreed, rubbing his face with the heels of his hands. “The rescue took something out of me.” He threw a two-fingered salute and sank out.

He arrived in his room, back in his usual casual attire and bone-weary. He didn't bother to shuck off his hoodie or even kick off his shoes before flopping face-down onto his bed.

After a moment, he rolled over onto his back, wiped sweat from his brow, and dropped off asleep.

To Be Continued...

Taglist:

@today-only-happens-once

@hitmewiththatfanart33

@maryann-draws

@ghosttb0y

@raygelkitty

@theladyoffangorn

@justanothernerdyfandomblog

@imbadatnames8d

#sanders sides #fanfiction #collateral damage

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polandspringz · 5 years

Note

82, 83 for the rat hunters :3c

I didn’t get the chance to proof read this but I hope the few of you who follow our motley crew of hunters enjoy this-

It was 4 AM when they climbed out of their beds. Although he hadn’t slept the entire night, as Lab threw the blankets off him and sat up on the side of his chained up cot, his “eyes” began to grow a little brighter, the lights turning from half crescents squinting in the dark to round beaming orbs as he listened. The footsteps echoing off the concrete walls of the dungeon’s corridor were growing louder, and with a click of his tongue (hidden somewhere within his robotic head) he ducked back into the shadows of the cot. If he wanted to move, he would have to wait for Poland. It was still too early for them to know the guard’s shifts to plan their heists accordingly, so they had to wait for each other.

Poland was alone upstairs in her “cell”, the plush blankets and canopy of the bedroom doing little to provide a menacing atmosphere for someone who had been a prisoner for almost two months now. Rat King Cora had moved her up here so he could force her to write, but the canopy bed and other elegant decorations left her with an uncomfortable feeling, both from knowing that it was only so he could use her as his pawn and from knowing that Lab would forever be stuck downstairs without such comforts. She shoved the comforter off of her with disgust and quickly tiptoed towards the door. She was going to need to take out the two rats guarding her door if they were going to do this.

Lab waited until he heard the groaning and the commotion of a struggle ceasing before getting up and walking towards the cell doors. Reaching through the bars, several rats crawled out of his sleeve and moved to undo the lock, and effortlessly, he stepped through onto the same rusty, dirty floor of the dungeon as inside the cell. Poland was sprinting around the bend, two unconscious large rats behind her.

“You ready?” Lab asked as he tugged on the cuffs of his trench coat, Ratthew and the others scurrying along and adjusting back into their place in his body. Poland nodded, Ratchard squeaking affirmatively on her shoulder. Lab gestured and they made their way towards the stairs.

The outside was quite literally a breath of fresh air for the both of them. A sewer they had run through, and before that, a musty underground of staleness and a castle full of smelly, mutated, buzzing rats that wouldn’t know perfume if it was cracked over their heads. The city at night, even in the months after the takeover was still a bundle of stimuli in the form of the white lights of windows and the ocean breeze weaving through the blocks of navy and silver skyscrapers. The manhole cover lifted and they helped each other out before together they took a moment to just enjoy the freedom they felt.

If they were ever connected to these crimes, even the freedom they had inside the castle walls would be stripped from them. Their actions would surely lead to nothing more than execution.

“Where are we striking tonight?” Poland asked, fiddling with the dagger she had been given.

“Downtown, Ratthew got some thugs to come meet us. We’ll want to make a big enough commotion that we lure out those connected to the King.”

At the mention of his name, Ratthew poked his head out of Lab’s collar and sniffed around. Poland wasn’t blessed with understanding the language, but the sight of Lab’s eyes dimming slightly as he focused his attention on the small sounds coming from the snout let her know that what he was saying was important. Ratchard surely understood it too, but he wasn’t paying attention. Lab didn’t talk much to begin with, but the little bit of time they had shared in the dungeon together had taught her how to read his body language enough, but that didn’t stop her from being left behind occasionally.

She caught up a few minutes later after he had thankfully- finally- stopped down one alley, and was letting Ratthew down.

“Are we using him as bait again?” She sighed, walking into the darkness of the walled in hallway.

“Ratthew told me he may have made a few errors in the negotiations to get our targets here. He needs to learn his lesson.”

“You’ll pull him out before he gets too hurt, right?”

Lab merely glanced at her from over his shoulder. Nervously, she tucked the knife away and reached to scoop Ratchard up.

“Wait, I’ll send Ratchard too, then. He can protect Ratthew a bit.” The smaller rat jumped down from her hand and nudged against the shaking, nervous Ratthew. Lab whispered something and then there was only the pattering of the rats feet as they scampered down the alley, squeaking to one another.

The two of them waited. This was only the third hunt, the second one that was organized. The first one was a mess that Poland hesitated to even to include as something to be remembered. She had snapped when the Rat King had visited her in her room, demanding things of her, trampling on nerves, and she sought revenge. She would have died that night if Lab hadn’t happened to be escaping as well and had stepped in to save her.

The moonlight bounced off the surface of the blade in her hand, her reflection being sliced in half by the glimmering white stripe. It was stupid of her, really, she wasn’t able to kill of them then, she didn’t kill any of them last time. Why was she even a part of this?

Lab tucked his hands into his coat pockets and leaned against one of the walls, listening to the noises of the rats squirming around his kidneys. They were particularly noisy today, and hopefully they would shut up before the targets arrived. As much as Ratthew needed some punishment, Lab didn’t want to actually kill the thing, and if the rest of his friends kept screaming about how they needed to get more members to kill more of them, it would be likely that both Ratchard and Ratthew would either be swallowed whole or returned to them gored and blood soaked.

Perhaps if it was Ratthew, he would’ve been fine, but Lab knew if he let anything happen to Ratchard Poland would be crushed. He had given her that creature as a communication tool, he was just one of the hundreds that lived in his body, from part of his lungs, to be precise. To him they were easily replaceable, and as part of their agreement, he was the same to them. He wasn’t special, he wasn’t the first to take up this task. They weren’t some special group of vigilantes, like the rats they were one of the hundreds across the globe who had taken up this mission.

But Poland didn’t know any of that. He had told her the bare minimum. She had lost everything and almost her life when she tried to kill several of them on her own. She had spilled everything about her family, her hatred of the Rat Empire, and in return he had gifted her Ratchard. He had promised that these rats were good, that they could help them, that they wanted these abominations gone as much as they did. She had been hesitant, and while Lab hadn’t been able to monitor her progress when she was taken out of the dungeon, he had seen the results. She trusted Ratchard, she had become friends with him.

Replacing him… would be a difficult task.

“Bratdon, Ratdall, do you hear them?” Lab whispered, hiding his mouth behind his collar.

It was Ratskolnikov who answered instead. They’re coming back. They’re three blocks away, by your standards.

“Who’s with them? How are they?”

A pause, then: They’re bringing the group they promised. Three large ones, some bonded lackeys. Ratthew is giving out distressed noises. Ratchard I can’t hear.

Ratchard has been largely silent since they started running back.

Lab pulled his collar back into position.

Great, he thought, pushing off the wall.

“Poland, get back. They’re coming.”

“That was fast. How many are we expecting this time?”

“Three. You focus on collecting the small ones, though. We’ll take care of the big ones.”

In the faint flickering glow of the yellow street light at the edge of the alley, they stood hunched over. Lab could feel the rats swirling close to his wrist. They were itching for a brawl as much as he was. Poland listened to him and stayed further back, and over his shoulder Lab could see she was already shaking. She wouldn’t actually kill any of the rats tonight. That knife was just in case she really needed to defend herself.

A rumble started from the darkness. If they were in a cartoon, perhaps some smoke would be forming, rolling forward as a warning of what was to come. There was a ding, and then a silver body jumped into the light and off of the side of a dumpster. It’s paws landed on the concrete and then dashed towards Lab, and he quickly let it hop into his hand and gallop up to his shoulder.

“Where’s Ratchard?”

To answer his question, a brown little shape glided past, drifting along the ground like an ice skater, it spun to a stop at Lab’s shoe. He tossed it back towards Poland, who caught it with a gleeful shout.

“You’re safe!” She cried and nuzzled it before she tucked it into her dress pocket, “How’s Ratthew?”

“He’s lost a few teeth and they took a nick of his ear, but that’s what he deserves,” Lab grinned, “Now, what did you do to rile them up this time?”

There was no more time for conversation though, as the darkness exploded with life and three gigantic rodents came launching out at them, the smaller eighty rats that were connected to the mind of the boss’s came soaring towards Lab’s skull, teeth bared. The hue of the lights of his eyes didn’t alter, he remained calm as he raised his hand, and felt the wave of motion erupt from underneath his sleeve. Every rabid, mutated rat was met by one from his own body, and the alley erupted into shrieks and screams.

The large ones shook the earth as they halted in front of the dumpsters. One’s back foot claws tore through one of the black garbage bags and sent cans and rotting food flying. A banana peel narrowly missed taking out Ratthew, who was just barely clinging onto Lab’s coat to give commands to the others. Unlike them, Lab and Poland didn’t have a lot of experience with fighting, so it was up to the rats to really herald the attack. The humans bodies were just vessels, Lab’s especially, but it would do no good if the two of them went down without the group having any sort of back up plan for how to save this city.

The bosses charged forward. Lab took out a large kitchen knife from his pocket that they had swiped on their way out, and plunged it forward so it sliced through the center rat’s head. He yanked it out and then swung the blunt side towards the one on the left, while some rats jumped out of the back of his coat and struggled to restrain the rightward one. Every strike seemed calculated, but he was panicking. If he didn’t take care of them fast enough, they would go towards Poland, who was working at scooping up the dead bodies to carry back.

He brought the knife back down on the first one he had stunned, and started battering the other one with kicks as he listened to his rats screaming as a few of them were eaten up in the struggle. More were jumping out to join the fray, and Lab could feel himself growing weaker. He pinned one boss down and straddled it, slicing the head off as quickly as he could with the blade before he moved to the left one and then tackled the last one and moved to stab through the heart, but it jaw grabbed the handle and flung the blade towards the street.

“Poland, duck!”

She was luckily already close to the ground as she lifted another corpse into her skirt, but she still dropped in time just as the knife soared overhead and clattered behind her. Lab heard her running and then her shout before he grabbed as many of his rats as he could and fell backwards.

“I can’t aim well, so get off fast!”

The large knife was followed by her tiny dagger, but both managed to stick the landing alongside the rat’s eyes. Lab grabbed the handle of the larger one and ripped it through the flesh of the beast with a jagged path, blood flying as he struggled to find the brain and finally-

Subdue it.

He flopped back on the ground with relief even as he felt the blood soaking into his coat. This job was messier than usual. It would be hard to explain to the guards why he was so dirty when the checked on him in the morning. Hopefully he could think of a good enough explanation so they didn’t search him and connect the crime scene to him.

The world was spinning a bit, and Lab realized it was because not all of the rats that had left his body had returned. He felt around the inside of his coat. There was a gap on his left side, and through his blurry vision he could see that those few that were still on top of the corpse weren’t getting back up. He started to think maybe things would be better if he just would lie down when Poland jogged up.

“Here, some of your guys were back by me. It might not be enough but,” she opened his coat and began shoving creatures inside of him, “These guys seemed to have snapped out of the hivemind’s control. They’ll quickly rejoin our side if they know what’s good for them, so take them too.”

Lab felt a jostling near his stomach as the rats that were already nested inside had to make room again for the new arrivals. There was still a few live ones in Poland’s hands when he looked up.

“I don’t think there’s anymore room in there. Where else can I put these guys?”

“My wrist,” Lab panted, the feeling of exertion and fatigue were currently battling against the sudden recharge that was coming from the literal kinetic energy happening inside him, “Some of them just sit in my sleeves and things. I’ll take ‘em,” he slurred and he tried to gather himself, sitting up and holding his hand out, “I’ll take them there.”

Poland looked down at his hand before she ignored it and went unbuttoning the cuff and letting the rats run into their spots themselves. One of them tried to take its original spot and sent everyone jostling his lungs, and he let out a string of harsh, dry coughs before he wiped his mouth and gathered himself.

“Let’s go.”

He ignored Poland’s hand and helped himself to his feet, staggering away with one hand holding his coat closed. Poland followed close behind, but kept her hands on her skirt, holding up the bundle they had collected.

They were hardly out of the alley when they heard another rumbling.

“Lab.”

“Yes?”

“What was that?”

Several faces popped out of the back collar and then dove back inside as a large shadow overtook the two small human ones.

“Breath slowly, show no signs of fear-”

“Lab, we can’t take another one of these!” Poland shuffled a little closer, her head and eyes starting to shift back to the alley, “Especially with you like this-”

Lab grabbed her face and held it still, his own gaze locked straight ahead at the shadow that was motionless, “Don’t turn around. It’s behind us. Now, did you grab the knives?”

“What? No, I’m holding the rats! I’m supposed to collect these!”

“Well, we can’t very well leave our weapons back there! We don’t know if the rats can use DNA evidence or not!” A chirp, “Actually, Ratthew has just informed me they very well can.”

“We can’t very well go back to get them. We don’t know what’s behind us!”

“We do, actually-”

“Well, I don’t!” She stamped her foot. Lab’s sighs were overpowered by the growling and hot wet air that rushed over them.

“I told you to stay still. Look, you go ahead. I’ll send some of my rats to collect the weapons.”

“You are not letting a rat wield a knife, and if I even try to move now, I’m probably going to get eaten alive! Now, do you have any better plans?”

Lab looked at her through the darkness that was covering them. Her tone was harsh, but her eyes were scared. He had touched her with a blood covered hand, so now her chin and cheek was streaked with red from some grimey, disease ridden rodent. The skirt of her dress was damp from the fluid seeping out of the corpses she was holding for him, and her hands were darkened from when she had reached inside his open body to fix him. Ratchard was on her shoulder, staring at him with his beady black eyes and unspoken words that echoed through every rat in his body.

“Look, I’m surprised this guy hasn’t eaten us already. You just run. I’ll handle it.”

“But, Lab-”

“The most important thing is to get those bodies back to my cell, right? You remember how important that is?”

“I-I-I still don’t know why, but yeah?”

“It doesn’t matter what happens. We need those bodies, and if you let them rot here, then everything is a lost cause, okay? Killing this big guy here? It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, so, go when I say so, okay?”

“Alright,” she still didn’t seem happy, but his lie had created a small smile on her face.

“Good, now. Three, two, one. Go!”

Poland took off and Lab whipped around to face the beast. It was almost as big as Rat King Cora, he only had a split second to wonder how it even fit through the alley before he was rushing underneath it towards the abandoned weapons. His hand closed around the handle of the blade just in time for his body to be knocked away by the blunt force of a large tail. Crashing into the dumpster, he was buried beneath trash that his body had sent slamming into the sides of the bin, and then two sharp claws began to scratch and swipe at his face as they tried to pick him out. Amidst the darkness, yellowed fangs glistening with saliva snapped through and came narrowly close to stealing some of the mice from his torso.

It was hard to hear anything besides the crinkling and crackling of the tin cans and plastic lids that Lab was swimming in, but above all the racket he did manage to make out someone screaming-

“Hey! You! Can you help us?! Please, my friend is in danger!”

“Poland, what the hell are you doing?!” Lab hissed as he grappled with the rat, taking hold of its fleshy, scarred cheeks and shoving it backwards with a foot to its neck, “Urgh… Get the hell out of here I told you!”

“Yeah! Use that! I’ll pay you back for however many arrows you use!”

There was more noise from outside but Lab tuned it out, all of his focus shifting towards getting free of this rat and killing it before his remains were scattered about for Poland to see, but the only thing worse than him dying here would have all of the rats inside of him going down too, and another person getting unnecessarily destroyed afterwards when they were too frozen by fear to move.

Just as Lab managed to force his head above the edge of the dumpster, there was shrill ring as something strummed through the air, and the rat in front of him let out a loud cry as it recoiled back. Several more white stripes cut through the air and pierced the beast, until its body rolled away and disappeared behind what little Lab could see above the trash bin. After the thunder of it smacking the ground, Lab waited a second before he peered over the edge to see the rat splayed out like a pelt rug. It wasn’t until he heard Poland shouting for him that he scrambled out of the garbage and hurried back down.

“Alright,” he said after scooping up the knives, “So, you didn’t listen to me, but we’ll deal with that later. Right now, we really need to run-”

“No, wait,” She stopped him by holding her hand out, “We have to speak with them first.”

“Them?”

She pointed up to the rooftop of one of the buildings that walled in the alley they stood in. A shadowy figure was staring over the edge, only their hair blowing in the wind and the whites of their eyes distinguishable from their form.

“Yes, they killed the beast. Can you come down? We need to speak for a moment!”

The figure disappeared, and Lab grabbed Poland’s wrist to get her attention, “First off, stop being so loud, you’re going to get us caught, and second, you realize you did just recruit someone without coming to me first right?”

“You were going to die, and they had a weapon. They didn’t hesitate to help us, Lab, so it worked out. Let’s see what they have to say, but I’m pretty sure they’ll at least keep quiet if not stand with us.”

They waited a minute for the person to appear outside the alley, but their figure was still cloaked in the dreary atmosphere and fog of the city at night. A bow could be seen held loosely at their side. Poland rushed forward.

“Thank you so much for your help! I really appreciate it, but if you would give me a day I can get the money together to pay for the- wait,” she stepped back suddenly.

“You’re…” The person leaned forward, and suddenly Lab could see their face.

“Vince?!”

I’ll probably right a follow up/short sequel where we talk with Vince actually and learn more about how they come to join.

#this is incredibly corny and i really struggled to write this lol #action stuff is difficult when its two people and a bunch of rats vs good rats #ask poland #rat hunters #my writing #writing #ask prompt #ask prompts #my ocs

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thecreativeangel · 6 years

Text

aut neca aut necare: IV

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: Peter hasn’t been talking to you for two weeks now, which is cool. It’s all good. He’s only your best friend of like seven years. No biggie.

Warnings: Peter kinda being a shady bitch. The angst begins. Reader is becoming e d g y

Words: 2.3k

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The weeks were passing too quickly. You’d hoped that Peter would interact even a little, to slow down time like he did when it was just the two of you in his living room, watching old cartoons on a Sunday. Classes with him were the same as classes without him; boring, dreary, etcetera. Peter had little intention of talking with you. Or Ned, apparently, because Ned would follow him everywhere in a desperate attempt to gain his attention. You were alone. It made you guilty, that the mention of Ned’s name caused a bitter pang in your chest. Ned didn’t try to avoid you like Peter seemingly did.

“It’s the most annoying book I’ve ever read,” MJ complained, The Pearl by Steinbeck resting on her lap. Peter didn’t look up from his computer, merely humming to signify he was listening. MJ sent Peter a withering look which he’d see if he looked away from the damn computer. She turned back to you and shrugged. “I mean, let’s say we ignore the shit descriptions. Kino is such a conceited prick. He treats his wife like shit for trying to advise him. Actually, now that I think about it, Juana reminds me of that hero chick who the New York Times likes to bash.”

You felt Peter stiffen in his seat and chose to ignore him like he was you. “Okay Michelle I know that you know her name-”

“Yeah, it’s a stupid name-”

“I mean the people started calling her that, so blame them.”

“It’s a makeup brand!”

“-and did you just use John Steinbeck to suddenly shift conversation to Nyx?”

She sniffed daintily, tugging at one of her baby hairs. “And if I did?”

You laughed at her fake nonchalant attitude. “Oh my god Michelle.”

“Right, let’s see what people think,” she roughly shoved Peter’s shoulder, making him release a high pitched yelp that resounded throughout study hall. “Parker, what d’you think about Nyx. She’s cool and all, but the name. It’s dumb.”

“I don’t get why you like her so much,” Peter said gruffly. “Haven’t you read the New Yo-”

You interrupted him. “We’ve seen that thing. MJ says it’s bull and I believe her. Don’t you think that Ritter guy sounds a bit biased?”

“Maybe, but what he writes is true,” Peter said. He focused back on his computer, typing as he talked. “She robbed a store on Fifth Avenue…”

I didn’t rob it, You thought, deflating slightly. I STOPPED a robbery, then put most of it back. Stupid cameras caught me with ONE watch and reporters ignore the actual robber completely. AND WHO ROBS VERSACE? Walk a bit and you’ll get to Tiffany and Co.!

“...and the United Nations Headquarters!” Peter exclaimed, shocking you out of your thoughts.

“No one saw her sneak in.” MJ noted, confused at why Peter was suddenly so against Nyx. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Wait hold up,” you broke in, feeling your palms become sweaty. “W-what happened at the U.N.?”

“Nyx stole from the U.N.’s library,” Peter explained patiently. “She took something from the historical sciences section. No one knows what it is yet, but they think it’s a record of ancient power sources. Prehistoric relics. What old civilizations worshipped. Supposedly it’s from before people knew what a god was, so it’s kind of a big deal.”

You wiped your hands on your jeans and tore the laptop from his hands before he could protest. Of course, as soon as you started typing “UN” the autosearches read “UN headquarters broken into”, “UN delegates can’t work anymore?”, “UN building in shut down”. You clicked on a random article and sure enough, there were shaky pictures of the glass library, dark blue smoke leaking from its open doors. But it wasn’t your smoke; Nyx hadn't entered the building at all. You’d been framed.

“Is there any video?” you asked, praying the squeak in your voice wasn’t audible.

“No,” Peter replied, taking his computer back rather forcefully. “But I’m sure it’s Nyx. I mean, blue smoke? She’s been getting more careless and this was her breaking point, her greatest achievement so far- Or maybe she’s innocent. Dunno, I’ve been watching Shane Dawson.”

Shane Dawson made a conspiracy theory about me? Should I be honored or… Your fingers gripped the armrests to the point that your knuckles were beginning to sting. That night you’d gone out angry; Mum wasn’t calling back, and her assistant left an unpleasant voicemail. You forgot to buy food after hours of homework and ate at Seven Eleven. Not your most dignified moment. So when your silver wristlet began to vibrate, projecting an image of those suspicious trucks moving out of New Jersey for the first time in weeks-

You flew to their location.

The “mission”, distraction, whatever it was- failed. You felt even worse after, coming back into the empty apartment at 2 a.m.

“Kim doesn’t like her either,” Peter said offhandedly. “Been really quiet about the explosion at Stark Labs, but she says she’ll tell me why soon. She hates talking about Mr. Stark. I just wanna be there for her, y’know? No one deserves to be alone like she was.”

Your insides felt like liquid nitrogen, so cold they were scorching. “You’re acting like an idiot.”

Peter frowned, his eyes searching yours. “What?”

“I get that you like her, and that's cool, but it’s getting sad,” you deadpanned, drawing your gaze down to the messages poorly carved into the table (even fancy schools had idiots who got bored). “Why’re you so obsessed with her when you won’t even ask her out? S’ not like she’s interested in you.”

MJ’s snapped up, ridiculously wide. She hastily picked up The Pearl from her lap and practically shoved her nose into the pages, hiding from the conversation. The words left your mouth a grumbled and bunched together, but Peter heard everything. His gaze on you was steely.

“We’re dating,” he said tonelessly, another blaring warning you missed. “Kim asked me out a month ago.”

“Oh.” you managed weakly.

There were several seconds of painfully awkward silence before you snapped, mumbling “It’s not like I’d know that.” under your breath. You pouted slightly, probably acting like a complete child.

“W-what do you mean ‘you wouldn’t know that’,” Peter mused, throwing his hands up. “I told you last week.”

“That’s a lie,” you retaliated. “I’ve barely talked to you this month! So-rry for not wanting to intrude on your little fantasy when she’s around.”

“Why are you like this?” Peter asked honestly. His normally serene expression turned to a scowl. “The moment I get over Liz- Actually no, you’ve been weird all year!”

“I’ve- I'm not acting weird- and you, that's- don't even have the right to say th-” MJ looked over her book so only her eyes showed and shook her head. You faltered. Have I been acting differently? Has everyone else noticed?

“Whatever. Nothing's wrong. It's just puberty or something.”

Peter watched you wearily, scanning for something. “Good. Awesome. Now could you please be quiet?”

“So you can finish your little article about Nyx?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re just salty that Spiderman, everyone's favorite hero used to be friends with her.”

Peter flushed pink. “I’m talking to Kim about it, not writing an article.”

“Bet you’re gushing about how Nyx deserves to be put to death sentence.” you said. “Since you suddenly hate her so much. For no reason.”

“For good reason, but you’re too in love with her to see it. Look, I’m sure Spiderman will catch her soon,” Peter said through gritted teeth. MJ sunk down in her chair, shielding herself from the argument. You didn’t know if anyone was listening in, but you were too angry to care. “And when he does she’ll confess, and this will all be over.”

“Catch her? They’re partners!”

“D’you- d’you actually Spiderman would be partners with a criminal?”

You wrinkled your nose at him, suppressing a cynical laugh. “Spiderman used to be a criminal! ‘Member when he cut Staten Island Ferry in half?”

Peter seemed pissed off by this, and you wondered why he idolized Spiderman so much. “He wasn’t a criminal! He helped people!”

Your fists clenched under the table, hearing the light overhead start to buzz, the glass cracking. Magic crackled quietly around your wrists like sparks electricity. “There is no proof that Nyx stole from the U.N.-”

“Well, yes, there is,” Peter pressed. “How can’t you see it? No one else leaves blue smoke besides her! I think Nyx should be sent to jail, because that’s where criminals go.”

Jail. That’s not too bad. Jail might have decent food. “At least you don’t want her killed.”

“Depends,” Peter said airily. “On whether she hurts Kim again.”

He didn’t bother to add “Oh, and you, Ned, Michelle…and May of course. Y’know. My blood relative who I very much love, Aunt May.” Nope, it was just Kimberly. Kimberly, Kimberly, Kimberly. You tried to sympathize with him, really you did, but this young love bullshit was irritating. Besides, your young love wasn’t going too well.

“Psh, so what would you do?” you asked. “Go to your damn internship and tattle to Spiderman? Have him hunt Nyx?”

There was a sense of disbelief in your words, but Peter’s gaze remained set. His brown doe eyes gleamed with determination and protectiveness. None of it was for you.

“If I have to,” he shrugged. “Yeah.”

So in other words, you’d do anything for her, you thought sourly. Ouch. That hurts a bit. Peter dropped the solemn face so quickly you wondered if he ever looked solemn at all. Might have been a figment of your imagination, just trying to get you to be angry with him. He sent you a lopsided, innocent smile that made your blood boil. You didn’t know why, didn’t want to know why, but at this moment he had no right to go back to his cheerful state. Not after saying those things.

You looked back down at your black jeans and picked at a loose seam. The way he looked when he spoke about Kim… The chivalry, warmth and protective nature. Seven years you and him had been best friends, and he never looked at you that way. Not when you were pushed into mulch by a bully in 5th grade, or when you were harassed by 15 people in 7th, or when a girl had the audacity to call you a prude bitch in 9th. (Apparently you were a prude for admitting that you’d never been kissed, but joke’s on her. It’s junior year and you still haven’t been kissed, so… That’s depressing.)

Your thoughts strayed, but there was one common observation: Peter liked you, cared for you, grew up with you, but he’d never look at you with as much adoration as he did to Kimberly. But it’s worse than that, isn’t it... You dug your fingers into your thighs. No matter how close I am with Peter, he’d always choose her over me. Fuelled by venomous thoughts, you spoke before thinking.

“God, why do you hate her so much?” you huffed. “It’s like she’s the one who killed your parents.”

MJ almost fell over as she shot up, grabbed everything she could and sped out of study hall. Your eyes shot open at your own statement, heart starting to beat frantically. Shit, why did I say that?! Peter’s head jerked up, staring at you. You didn’t want to describe what flashed across his face, didn’t want to keep looking at him. You wished you could slap yourself so hard it reversed time and that slip-up never happened but your gaze was locked with Peter’s, and neither party was backing down.

When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Take it back.”

You didn’t blink. “Peter.”

“Take. It. Back.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, hating the way your words sounded; like a strangled, dehydrated cat. “Peter, it slipped-”

He only looked at you, jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscles twitching. Your eyes began to sting, feeling the pressured need to cry build up beneath your eyeballs. “Peter I said I w-”

“Fuck you.” he spat.

That single, short sentence was enough to make you clamp your mouth shut. It was two words dripping poison onto your body, melting skin wherever drops landed. He stood up, shoved his books into his backpack so fast his hands seemed to blur and before you could even move he disappeared through the door, heavy footsteps slowly fading away.

You were still sitting, holding your knees which were exposed because of the ripped jeans, hands shaking and staring at at the door through which he left. Even if the entirety of study hall knew how badly you just fucked up with your best friend, you didn’t care. Judging from how quiet everyone suddenly was, they all knew anyway. But you stayed perfectly still, shoulders tense, clutching your knees until your nails made little semi-circles appear. Soon, they broke the skin and tiny dots of blood surfaced, and you still didn’t move. Your chest moved in fast, small movements, like an animal that was being hunted.

When the embarrassment of your actions finally reached your fogged up mind, you frantically shoveled books into your backpack and fled the room with your head down. A few drops of red ran down from the aching cuts in your exposed knees and disappeared into the black fabric of your jeans. They hurt. You deserved it.

I messed up, I messed up, I messed up, I messed up, I m-

Authors Note: Sorry ‘bout not posting, but depression just kicked in like a motherfucker and I needed time to get used to the feeling. There’s also some stuff about my summer credit course, that gets in the way too. Hope people still care to read this. Byee-

Tags List: @4-a-m, @miss-glitch, @runs-with-sciss0rs, @lubrielx, @reddiesteddiespaghetti, @wheezygreens, @everythingthatisrandom, @mcheung0314,

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pokemon-channel · 6 years

Text

Valentine’s Exchange Mix-Up Mixer

When the flock from the Prestige Pidgeot Crew returned, DJ Mary released the breath she’d been holding. Three years since she first started doing this Valentine event, and not a single time had it gone right. Dozens and hundreds of complaints of mismatched Valentines flooded her inbox and voicemails. She was trying her best, darn it!

But this time, nothing could go wrong. Absolutely nothing. She’d invested too much time and effort for this to not go right.

And as DJ Mary welcomed each tired Pidgeot from their wrong trek, she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

Nah, couldn’t be.

What DJ Mary brings to you, under the cut, is a tragic tale of woe. Each Valentine has been preserved in its original state. None of the people who actually received each Valentine were the intended recipients.

To further add to the confusion, each Valentine was randomized three separate times along with their sender counterparts. Thanks to the based RNG gods, some people received quite the coincidental string of Valentines…

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Sabrina WHO RECEIVED IT: Lance CONTENTS: I really hope this makes it to you, Red. But if it doesn’t, Happy Valentine’s Day, you!

VALENTINE SENT BY: Hilda WHO RECEIVED IT: Lance CONTENTS:

Hi and Happy Valentines Day!

Felt like this would be as good a time as any to send a letter of thanks. For being my friend, one of the few human friends I’ve made on my journey (Not to mention one of the few kids I’ve gotten to know here. Not sure how you go about being a gym leader at this age, but good on you, sister!).

But more importantly, for being one of the few people I’ve met these past months that I can TRUST. I’ve seen some really scary people and things and had my trust betrayed in ways I’d much rather not talk about.

And of course thank you for all your help with April! Taylor and I are indebted to you! Baby Pokémon are so hard to take care of, and we worried about keeping her. I didn’t even know before that Dragon Pokemon imprinted!

A happy happier day than my day from your friend Hilda.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Clair WHO RECEIVED IT: Lance CONTENTS:

This gift is a hodgepodge of gifts: chocolate and a stuffed Teddiursa, as well as some colorful stickers and a purple plastic cup. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got you all of them. Happy days, Clair.”

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Moon CONTENTS:

VALENTINE SENT BY: Clair WHO RECEIVED IT: Moon CONTENTS: In a manila envelope is a mushed-up wad of chocolate. It almost looks like a lump of coal. In fact, that is exactly what it is. Next to it is a sheet of paper with a hastily-written note on it. “How does one get SO LOST in a SIMPLE plains?? Don’t you Kalosians use fancy maps or whatever?? You were right outside of TOWN! You’re so frustrating I can’t stand it. Clair.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lillie WHO RECEIVED IT: Moon CONTENTS:

Thanks for helping me Work Up my courage as a Pokemon Trainer! You’ve made a Giga Impact on my life. Wishing you a happy Valentine’s Day!

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Hilda WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS: Hey…I know we don’t know each other very well. We’ve only met once or twice. I’m reaching out to you because I would really like to be friends with you.

I don’t have too many human friends. I’ve found it harder rather than easier to connect to people since my Pokémon Journey (which is like a less formal Island Challenge in other regions, and in Unova it’s for teenagers because of how unsafe it is here). It wasn’t exactly a great experience, due mostly to some terrorism (is that too strong a word?) from a group called Team Plasma, and my encounters with them. Those events really changed me. I haven’t found myself connecting to people because I worry (sometimes rightly so) that they wouldn’t understand what I have been through.

But I’ve sort of gotten wind of a group that you were involved with (not by choice) called the Aether Foundation that had a good deal in common with Team Plasma, and I wanted to get to know you better because I think we might really understand each other.Sorry, I don’t think I articulated that very well. This kind of stuff is hard for me. I hope I didn’t come off as weird or knowing too much about you. I just want to make friends.

Your hopefully future friend, Hilda

VALENTINE SENT BY: AZ WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS: Black trillium. A note in shaky lettering that says “It is not the end. Only the beginning.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Ethan WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS: Hope you have an egg-cellent Valentine’s Day, Morty!!!

VALENTINE SENT BY: Silver WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS:

VALENTINE SENT BY: Professor Kukui WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS: Champ, Happy Valentine’s Day to a world-class trainer! Alola couldn’t have asked for a better Champion, and we’re all so proud of you. Say hi to Homura and the gang for me! Love, Kukui

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Delinquent Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Iris CONTENTS:

VALENTINE SENT BY: Professor Kukui WHO RECEIVED IT: Iris CONTENTS: Shark bait, Aether is lucky to have a prez like you. Have a happy Valentine’s Day! Cheers, Kukui

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Ethan WHO RECEIVED IT: Misty CONTENTS: Hope you have an egg-cellent Valentine’s Day, Lance!!!

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Clair WHO RECEIVED IT: Gladion CONTENTS: This one is just a card with a Meowth hanging precariously from a tree limb. The caption HANG IN THERE reads underneath it. The inside has several words, but they are all scratched out, as one does when they are unsure of what to say. The card’s generic inside reads “Thinking of you.” Underneath “Clair” is written.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Clair WHO RECEIVED IT: Shadow Triad Moros CONTENTS: Custom made from Build-A-Beartic, a jolly purple Goodra smiles goofily. Around its neck is a fancy blue ribbon that gives the plush an even squishable appeal. Attached to the leg is a note that reads, “To the future of dragons. Clair.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Moon WHO RECEIVED IT: Shadow Triad Moros CONTENTS:

for you :)

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Ethan WHO RECEIVED IT: Fire CONTENTS: I think you’re egg-cellent, Lyra! Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

VALENTINE SENT BY: Clair WHO RECEIVED IT: Fire CONTENTS: A card that resembles a cartoon ghost smiles as awkwardly as the writing within. “How do people even DO these things?? Write stuff. On Valentine’s. Feels like I need to summon spirits or whatever to make any sense!! ……Raising dragons is easier. happy valentines day (i guess)”

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Clair WHO RECEIVED IT: Professor Kukui CONTENTS: Several yellow daffodils are tied together by a neat white bow. Attached is a simple white card that says, “I missed you. C.”

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Giovanni WHO RECEIVED IT: Lovrina CONTENTS: Twelve roses, all pitch black, accompanied by a plain card that says, “Hatefully yours, Giovanni”

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Professor Kukui WHO RECEIVED IT: Ranger Kellyn CONTENTS: Lils, It was to see you at the lab again! I’ve been missing my favorite assistant. Happy Valentine’s Day from Burnet and I! Love, Kukui

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Lyra CONTENTS: To Clair, Your spirit burns with a fiery passion, but not as fiery as my love for you. Behind your tough exterior, I know, lies a sweet and delicate soul in need of tender love and affection. Be my Valentine, -Anonymous

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Lyra CONTENTS:

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lovrina WHO RECEIVED IT: Lyra CONTENTS: So, like, I’ve been thinking. I’m super hot, you’re super hot… we should totally take over the world together! Whaddya say, cutie pie? <3

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lillie WHO RECEIVED IT: Silver CONTENTS: You light up my life! Happy Valentines Day!

VALENTINE SENT BY: Sun WHO RECEIVED IT: Silver CONTENTS:

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Silver CONTENTS: Half a dozen yellow roses. There’s a handwritten note that says only, “To Sabrina.”

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Sun CONTENTS: A single white rose. The attached note says, “Thinking of you.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Sun CONTENTS:

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Sun CONTENTS: Dear Terrible Human Being,

Congratulations–you’ve pissed someone off so much that they went out of their way to pay me to send you the worst thing you can ever receive in an envelope: mother f****** glitter. Some poor idiot works 8 hours a day, 5 days a week to support themselves, or is a temporarily homeless traveling Trainer who is just trying to find themselves and enjoy their Mewdamn life, and you’ve been that much of an asshole that they paid me to send this to you.

It must be a great honor receiving this letter to inform you that your douchbaggery has not gone unnoticed. Your trophy has come in the form of craft herpes. It’s a sort of recognition for the way you waste precious air and people’s valuable time since now I’m going to take a little of yours.

Obviously, you are a terrible, horrible person and this is just a little payback; don’t take it personally, or do, whatever, we don’t care.

If you’re at work I hope that the glitter got all over your desk and that your co-workers now start questioning why the office idiot is spreading glitter everywhere.

If you’re at home opening mail I really hope that you spilt this s*** everywhere.

And if you’re a ninja/evil henchman thing, I hope this sparkly demon powder blew your cover and makes whatever you wear for being stealthy eye-catching and unusable. Because you know what? For the next few weeks, glitter is going to haunt you. Have a nice day!

Custom message from the person who hates you: How does it feel to have your day ruined by someone whose identity you don’t know? Someone you can’t even gather data on to avenge yourself? How does it feel to be suddenly shocked and humiliated when you were just trying to go about your business (you know, something YOU do to people on a regular basis)? You’ll never know who sent this! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! No, no, don’t actually include the laughter. It sounds too stupid. Did you remove it? You removed it right? It’s not going to be in the letter is it? Okay thanks.

ShipYourEnemiesGlitter.com

At least a tablespoon of brightly colored, tiny, static-y glitter has fallen onto everything. A bit of investigation reveals that many other members of Team Plasma, including both of the other Shadows, received similar letters. N was reported to have audibly shrieked when his glitter fell out. Part of his message read, “I had to skip lunch for a week to afford all of these, but it was WORTH IT!!” Ghetsis received 3, as well as an entire box of loose glitter. Unfortunately for the sender, after the second envelope he grew wise and made a Grunt open the third and the box over a disposal. [[Or maybe karma was especially vigilant that day and he didn’t. Your choice.]] Good thing, too, as the box was rigged with a string for the bottom to fall open if the top was undone before anyone noticed the string taped to it. But what he DIDN’T avoid opening was the spring-loaded container of these. No, really.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Ethan WHO RECEIVED IT: Giovanni CONTENTS: I think you’re egg-cellent, Silver! Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Giovanni CONTENTS:

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: AZ WHO RECEIVED IT: Sabrina CONTENTS: “You are much more than you think. You are stronger than those I’ve known before. Have pride. Be joyful that you have reached this point.”

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Sun WHO RECEIVED IT: Guzma CONTENTS:

VALENTINE SENT BY: Giovanni WHO RECEIVED IT: Guzma CONTENT: An expensive box of chocolates and a dozen red roses in a crystal vase. A note attached says: Happy Valentine’s Day. Yours, Giovanni

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Clair WHO RECEIVED IT: Lysandre CONTENT: A small box of coconut-almond chocolates is accompanied by a plain red card. “Maybe if you weren’t such an ass, people would like you better. Me too.” Signed on the back is the Blackthorn City gym’s stamp.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Professor Kukui WHO RECEIVED IT: Lysandre CONTENTS: G, Here’s some touchy-feely bullshit for you: happy Valentine’s Day! -Kukui

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Lillie CONTENTS: In careful, curly handwriting, alongside three small heart cookies: “You’re cool! Like, really cool! But I feel like you hate me… but I think we can really be friends if we try. I genuinely believe that! I won’t make you if you don’t want to be my friend, I understand if you don’t!!! But I just think that we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s talk sometime soon… I hope!!!”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Professor Kukui WHO RECEIVED IT: Lillie CONTENTS: Sun, Happy Valentine’s Day cousin!! You and Rotomdex are doing GREAT! Keep up the amazing work and I know you’ll finish the dex in no time. Love, Kukui

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Lillie CONTENTS: Dear Clair

I Choo Choo Choose you!

Happy Valentine’s day,

Morty

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Giovanni WHO RECEIVED IT: Morty CONTENTS: A bouquet of pink roses and a bottle of rosé. The card says, “Celebrating future successes. -Giovanni”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Sabrina WHO RECEIVED IT: Morty CONTENTS: I really hope this makes it to you, Fire. But if it doesn’t, Happy Valentine’s Day, you!

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Kid WHO RECEIVED IT: Delinquent Anzu CONTENTS: Three cookies! Shaped like hearts! and a note that reads: “I don’t know if you know it, so I’m gonna tell you: you’re amazing! I’ve met lots of people but you’re one of the nicest! I feel like not enough people take the chance to interact with new people anymore, but it was amazing to meet you! I hope we can really be friends!

(P.S. I hope you like the cookies!!! I made them myself!!!)

Sincerely, Kid”

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Clair WHO RECEIVED IT: Maxie CONTENTS: This one is a small box, with hand-crafted ornamental symbols on the side. They’re dragons. There is a tag that says “AZ” on the outside. Inside the box is a necklace. Its chain is a soft braided leather. Small aquamarines are knotted beside a dragon fang, bleached to white perfection; two long, thin dragon scales hang next to it. The kanji for HOPE is engraved on the fang. There is no note but the Blackthorn City emblem inside.

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VALENTINE SENT BY: Sabrina WHO RECEIVED IT: Ace Trainer Kid CONTENTS: I really hope this makes it to you, Misty. But if it doesn’t, Happy Valentine’s Day, you!

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VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: AZ CONTENTS: Dear Guzma,

I want you to give me the best dick I ever had and leave me with a yeast infection and an unwanted pregnancy while you skimp out on child support and don’t come to the kid’s birthday parties.

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VALENTINE SENT BY: Lillie WHO RECEIVED IT: Red CONTENTS: I love you to the moon and back! Will you be my Valentine?

#valentine event

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valkyrie-echo · 6 years

Text

Project Echo, Part 1: Chapter 18 (Reviving Bucky Barnes)

Part 1 Summary: A long-buried Hydra disaster, a monster in the shadows, a missing child. Eight months after the events of “The Winter Soldier”, Bucky turns himself in to the Avengers on one condition: They must help him find a girl snatched off the streets by Hydra seven years ago. In their quest, the Avengers accidentally unleash a horrifying creature of darkness and shadow, intent on making their quarry its prey.

Chapter 18: Reviving Bucky Barnes

A week passed without any sightings of the creature, and everyone was thankful for the break. Bucky started meeting with Sam regularly to talk through things and, when he still couldn't sleep for fear of the memories, Thor or Steve would go to the gym with him and practice fighting. Tony tried convincing everyone that a three-on-one fight with the Hulk would be a good idea, but no one saw how that came close to 'fun'.

Natasha and Clint weren't seen around the commons area too often- they continued to get no response from the girl. Whenever Nat entered the lobby, Bucky would excuse himself. He could tell she wasn't a fan of his- especially since JARVIS' full med scan on the girl painted a vivid picture of his handiwork. She didn't have to say anything- Bucky could see her rage in how she moved, and he made it his mission in life to avoid her. Doctor Johansson returned with a small team to begin putting the nameless child back together again and check the recovery of his other patient. He could barely make eye contact with Bucky after examining her.

One rainy afternoon, as Bucky worked on rebuilding a car engine from the 1970s, Clint came in, "How's it going?"

"New engines are more difficult to figure out than I thought. I swear there's a piece missing," Bucky was making an effort to be as amiable as he could around the team- especially Tony. Stark had cleaned out a section of his robotics lab and given Bucky access to his old junk car collection to rebuild on his own. It was Tony's original hobby- before the Iron Man obsession began, and he was happily passing it to the Winter Soldier now.

Clint looked slightly uncomfortable, "Listen, I'm sorry about all this with Nessa, I still don't think there's any reason-"

"Nessa?"

"Inessa," Clint nodded, "Nat couldn't get a name from her so we made one. It means-"

"Pure," Bucky smiled, "it's a good name for her."

Clint gestured to the door, "Can I show you something really quick? I've been having trouble with something, you might be able to help."

"Sure," Bucky pulled off his grease-stained apron and gloves, then followed Clint out to the lounge. He froze as soon as he saw where Clint was leading him.

"See," Clint snickered, "we have an overabundance of cake and gifts, and we need someone to take it off our hands."

"Surprise!" Everyone was wearing party hats and streamers were draped from the lights. All the Avengers (and their friends) were present, including Pepper (allowed back into the building that very day by Tony), Jane Foster (who Bucky only knew from a picture Thor carried around), Mariah Hill and Rhody. Bucky was overwhelmed. He hadn't even known it was his birthday. A giant "98" hung from the rafters and he silently vowed not to tell them that he hadn't even known the year before just then.

Steve came over and clapped him on the back, laughing. He pulled out a large piece of metal with a bow on it and handed it to him, "Couldn't have you finishing too early," the goddamned missing piece!

"You little-" Bucky put him in a headlock with his metal arm, "still no respect for your elders, huh?"

"Uncle, uncle!" Bucky let him go and was quickly swept up in the sea of people. He had to admit that just this once being the center of attention (for a good reason!) felt great, and he couldn't stop smiling.

"You cleaned up well," Pepper came over, smiling, and held out a hand to him. This time Bucky shook it. "Tony speaks very highly of you."

"Woah Pepp," Tony came over, "I have an image to keep up."

"Well then, Bucky, this is just from me," Pepper held up a gift bag.

Tony raised his hand, "My idea!"

Pepper rolled her eyes and prompted Bucky to open the gift. He was curious. He reached in and pulled out a silver frame. Once he realized what it was, his mouth fell open and tears filled his eyes, "Where did you find this?" he managed a whisper.

"The historical society. Steve gave me some background so I could start looking."

The frame held a photograph of his parents on their wedding day. It had been digitally cleaned-up and printed on much nicer paper, but it looked exactly like the one his mother had kept on the mantle in their apartment. He touched the picture. His family. It had been decades since they died, but how he had a piece of his past. He wiped his eyes, "Thank you."

"Happy Birthday," she gave him a hug.

"Are we doing gifts already?" Clint came over with Natasha.

She nodded her greeting, then held out a flat, wrapped package, "An olive branch."

He unwrapped the parcel and looked at it- a tablet? He'd seen the others with similar contraptions, but like Steve he mostly avoided them. Natasha hit a button on the side and video filled the screen- a live feed of Inessa, sitting in the living room of Natasha and Clint's apartment under the guard of two suits, "I turn on cartoons. No sign she's even seeing them, but maybe one day she will."

"Thank you," Bucky had been dying to know how she was doing, it drove him crazy sometimes, this was as precious a gift as Pepper's, "How is she? Have you managed to get anything from her?"

Natasha shook her head, "It would be easier if they'd tried to alter her, like what they did to you. Re-directing someone can be undone with time but you-" she corrected herself quickly, "they, they took her to a blank slate. It can take weeks or even months to make progress from there. We just have to hope whoever grows in her place resembles whoever she was."

Bucky nodded, "And no luck identifying her?"

Clint shrugged, "We can't even figure out which country to start looking in. You said she spoke English, but JARVIS' scans say she's got the nutrient and calcium levels of someone from the second or third world. She could be a missionary's kid. No one ever reported her missing- either she'll have to tell us who she is or Hydra will."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do towards that end," Bucky had tried to convince Steve and the others to let him go on a mission to Auckland after Dennisson, but instead they'd installed an electromagnet on any door or window that could open to the outside. Bucky couldn't survive a fight with Hydra without his arm, and couldn't leave the building with it. He'd finally surrendered and agreed to stay (though the magnets remained just in case).

"Can I talk to you- alone?" Natasha lightly grabbed his arm and steered Bucky away from the others towards a quiet corner. "Listen," she sighed, "I just want you to know that I'm not mad at you. You don't have to keep avoiding me, really."

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, "I know what I did, you don't have to pretend it doesn't make your skin crawl-"

"It does," Natasha admitted, "but the only difference between what's in your past and what's in mine is that I chose to kill, maim, torture- whatever was needed. The KGB ripped my soul right out of me, but I could have left before Clint found me, and I knew it. I'm paying for all that now, just like you are and will continue to do in the future. I don't blame you- I blame the people who used you... I'd like for us to be friends, if you're alright with that."

"I am," Bucky nodded.

Natasha smiled, "Now, go- get back to your party. I'm told Tony will actually attempt to light every candle on that damn cake, and it's always fun to see DUM-E roll into a room with the fire extinguisher.

Chapter 19: Thomas Dennisson

#my writing #avengers #marvel

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