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goonlalagoon · 3 years

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We start small || Leagues and Legends

A series rewrite AU for @ink-splotch‘s fantastic Leagues and Legends books.

Spoilers for the whole trilogy below!

Read on Ao3

When George was fifteen, her village left her out for a dragon. The blacksmith slipped a knife up her sleeve as they went, and in the press of bodies she couldn't ask him why. She could only guess at what mercy he was handing her. The villagers would live with shame under their tongues for the rest of their lives, but they would live. The dragon ruled the hillside, great and golden, scales bright against the purple lupins that bloomed there every year, and they pretended it was fear that made them shudder at the sight.

Maybe Jack still survived the bandits who attacked the merchant caravan he was travelling with. Maybe he travelled on with them, bounced from place to place until he found a cause to throw himself into, on some distant shore far from the Forest where he had grown up. Maybe he didn't, one fourteen year old boy with no training and no battlefield experience, just a big heart and a bit of luck on his side.

There was no Dragon Slayer. It would be years before someone earned the old title Giantkiller, and it wouldn't be a red headed forest boy who tried to stand tall under the weight of that history.

Liam Jones powered the towns and villages of the mountains for weeks. The Seeress was almost blind with the burning light that drifted up through the floor, and the afterimage it left behind when it finally winked out was almost worse. There were no tales in the mountains of the Pied Piper.

Beatrice Tanner would never know any of their names.

On the day when in another life she might have opened her door and let a third soul into her shuttered heart, Bea woke as always before the sun to put the bread on to rise, and while the ovens warmed she rolled her dog eared map out over the old wooden table and traced her fingers over hidden paths and scant shelters. She had a network, small but growing, owed petty favours and moments of kindness. She had a list of lives saved, and a list of those she knew were at risk and could possibly be convinced to leave. She had a list of losses, a bitter sting under her tongue and a cold motivator to keep trying.

People still didn't believe her warnings, most of the time. They hushed her for telling children to be careful, to be hidden, and she did it anyway whenever she saw gold glittering in the corner of her eye, when she saw children play with sparks that didn't burn. Maybe they wouldn't believe her, but maybe they'd check over their shoulder anyway. Maybe the children would curl their hands into little fists and ignore the skin of the world pressing in on them, scared by this woman who hissed nightmares at them in the street. She didn't want children to be afraid, but she wanted them to be safe, and when there was a monster on the loose fear was what kept you alive.

She said as much, one day at a market, snapping warnings at children and glaring at the uniformed man who'd asked her what she was scaring children for. She had no patience for coddling, and she had little for the Bureau either. But this one blinked at her, and scratched at his clean shaven chin.

"Stealing mages? Say, d'you mind repeating all this to Sarge? He's the boss of our League, and this sounds like something we should know about." Bea eyed him suspiciously, but the possibility of getting more people to help outweighed her faint distaste for the Leagues.

It was only a few weeks later that May told her that it was really just May, not short for anything despite what the Bureau paperwork said. Bea wasn't quite sure whether this was a sign of trust or of just how much May wanted to get out of her padded armour and into something that didn't chafe quite as much on the healing gash down her side.

Sarge had sent coded reports back to headquarters, and was glaring at the responses. Flash was twisting his fingers, safe with his training and his league, staring sleepless at the ceiling with visions of those who weren’t keeping him awake. They couldn’t give themselves wholly to this cause; the Rangers had a job to do and it was one that badly needed doing - but part of their job was to keep people safe from monsters, so when they left they took some of her gathered information with them, and kept their eyes open.

They sent her news, dropped by the markets they knew she liked to give her the names of people who had helped, people who believed them when they whispered warnings. They sent people to her, frightened or angry or numb, but always desperate, and she sent them on. She didn't ask anyone to be a hero, because heroes were for stories and legends, for Bureau badges and official postings. She just asked people for a little bit of help, and then they offered it again and again.

It was over a year after she met them that they sent her the Giantkiller.

Kay had thick ropes of scarring over his side and arm, the pockmarks of claws pressed deep into his shoulder. He was a child when rocs tried to carry him off, struggling and screaming. He was lucky - the Rangers heard the commotion and brought the beast down, two arrows in its heart, a net of golden fire to catch him as he fell, to pour into gaping wounds and knit flesh back together. When they had to stay camped out for a day while the mage weathered an Elsewhere storm, their Guide showed him how to mix a paste to help the scars heal out of ingredients he could find within an hour’s walk of home.

His father's fury when he said after they left that he wanted to be a Leaguesman too was a burning thing, a bitter thing. He jerked his head down the road the Rangers left by, and listed every time they could have been of use before one lucky day. Kay fiddled with his spoon, because it was true - but that was the point of joining up, wasn't it? To be the person who was there when he was needed. But his father was bitter, furious, so he held his tongue.

When his father was out working in the field and Kay was supposed to be chopping wood, he fenced the air with a stick for a sword the way he'd watched May and Sarge practice in the early morning, as they let Flash sleep late to regain his strength and they kept a wary eye out for any returning rocs. He stumbled over his own feet and knew he was no good.

When he was younger, he'd practiced with his sling until his fingers blistered, and his father smiled over the small game he brought in, the crows he scared away from the crops with a sharp stone to the claws. Kay practiced still, every day, and now he imagined bigger targets.

The rocs came again, as they did every year, and one tried to carry off not a child but the neighbours' sheep. Kay sent it crashing back to the ground. Its neck snapped as it landed and he stood over it, shaking and fierce and frightened. The men arrived at a run from the barn, and Kay's father looked proud and scared and bitter.

"You see?" He said, later, when they’d butchered the carcass and he was watching Kay sort the feathers he'd asked to keep. "Rocs every damn year, and no Leagues here to help."

Kay hummed, non-committal, thinking but I was.

He was too young for the Leagues anyway, he knew. But he wasn't too young to help, so when there were rumours of Things haunting the woods nearby he slipped out his window in the grey dusk and went hunting. He had a handful of mage spelled stones, even if they were spelled for gentle warmth not damage, a gift from Flash to help ease the ache in healing limbs. The Things shrieked like the stones burned, and he was sick behind a bush afterward but the nest was gone, and Things shriek but he'd heard the families who’s homes were closer to the woods than his weeping too, and he knew which he'd choose. His father was pacing when he got home in the soft light of dawn, and he knew without asking where Kay had been. He knew what Kay was making himself into and he was furious and so scared, but Kay couldn't go back to waiting for someone else to save his people.

Kay set out the next morning, when his father was already out in the fields, working off his anger on the weeds. He packed a satchel of food and clothes, his sling and pouches of stones. He slipped the little carved flute his father made for his last birthday into the side of his bag, and set off down the road, refusing to look back.

When he met the Rangers again, it was in the shadow of a giant, the wreckage of a village. They were too late to help bring it down, but they found him digging through the fallen buildings for survivors. Sarge glanced at the sling at his hip first and Kay tensed. They were already whispering about him, the survivors, about the Giantkiller and his sling, and he knew the price of being a vigilante. Sarge said nothing, just gripped the other end of the beam he was trying to lift, hauling it up so Kay could drag the wounded boy underneath into the light.

They had a hushed conference, the Rangers and the Giantkiller, carefully out of sight because they could only shirk this particular duty if no one knew. May shook her head over him but bullied him through a basic staff work drill. Sarge watched, and nodded thoughtfully when Flash muttered "think the Baker could use a field agent?"

His story rolled ahead of him, growing as he went. He cleared a nest of Things in one village and took down another roc in a narrow pass, had a brief run in with bandits that he barely survived. He helped stock a woodpile for a hot meal and repaired a fence for another. There hadn't been a Giantkiller in the memory of anyone younger than his grandmother, and he listened to the old stories that were being dusted off. He hoped no one expected him to live up to all of them.

Bea heard him out, polite but not friendly, and he tried not to shuffle in his seat under her level gaze. She shrugged, eventually, and let him tag along as she smuggled a woman and her sister through the checkpoints in her cart. Kay tucked his sling out of sight and played a sullen teenager for all he was worth so that she could scold him loudly and the guards would shake their heads over the disruption instead of searching through the carefully stacked flour bags.

Someone wrote to her a week later saying they had a wyvern problem - people had long since started writing to the Baker for any help they needed and couldn’t afford from official sources, to see if she knew someone who could help. She sent Kay as a response, and he came back with a burn on his leg and pockets full of scales, scrubbed clean - but he came back. She grew to expect it, became used to keeping his room ready and leaving space at the table for him.

The first time he broke into the Graves' keep, he slipped out of the bakery after she'd gone to bed. They hadn't reached these ones in time, and he'd watched the way her shoulders fell and her lips thinned when he came back too soon, no rescues in his wake and no stories about how he'd helped them escape. He'd looked at her map, and thought but I'm still here.

The keep was easy to break into, because no one else was fool enough to try, and the Seeress was still working her way into her father's toolkit. He'd never held a lock pick but he knew how to remove hinges from a wall so he opened the doors that way, until one of the terrified mages shook off the stupor and started melting through them for him. They fled, and he scrawled the ward diagrams Flash had sent to Bea in the dirt for his rescues to copy with the sparks of power that were left to them. They had suspicions, Bea and the Rangers, dark thoughts about how their foe was finding prey so easily. They had wards that would cloud them from the sight of a seer, briefly, enough to break a trail, and they worked.

Kay led them to the bakery, where Bea fed them and sent them on, and when the house was empty again she wrapped her arms around Kay and hissed don't you dare do that again, don't you dare Kay, you don't disappear on me. He nodded and promised, but they both knew he meant he wouldn't slip away in the night. Kay was young, true, but he wasn't a fool. He could promise not to go without a word, but he couldn't promise he'd come back.

There was no Dragon Slayer, no Piper, a different Giantkiller - but it had never been just about those three friends. They were the ones whose legends were told, but theirs had never been the only hands buried in this war.

In a different village, there was a girl with the Elsewhere pulling gently on her bones. Kay took a warning, because if he and Bea had heard of her then so would the Graves’, and her sister narrowed her eyes at him as she went pale with fear. For all that he was the messenger not the threat, Kay took an instinctive half step back. "If anyone thinks they're taking my sister, they're going to get what's coming to them."

Rosie and Susie had friends, and those friends had already lost people to the machines, vanishing in the night and dropping out of contact. When Kay warned them, told them what he knew, they listened. They planned. When slavers came in the night, Elsewhere cracks tucked in their pockets, they thought this would be easy. The Seeress had seen an orphan girl with magic. If she had seen anything else, it had been shadowy faces with nothing to make them stand out. This is the peril of a Seer; you fall into the habit if thinking that if you don't see something it can't matter.

Slavers came in the night, and never left.

They started calling them Snow White and Rose Red, these sisters with deep roots in the mountain soil who grit their teeth and refused to run, refused to hide. Theirs was a mountain village, no Bureau-sanctioned guard and no walls to defend them, so they built their own. Bea smuggled out every person unwilling to become a civilian soldier, who wanted safety not defiance, and the rest built a fortress.

Kay helped, hands familiar with hammer and nails, the cost of freedom. He made friends, not just with the sisters but with Doc and his sons, the taciturn blacksmith and his two apprentices, the cheerful woman who ran the inn and the cynical one who presided over the fledgling community garden, with a few scattered kids his own age with fire in their veins and fear in their eyes.

(Or was it fear that ran in their blood, twitching at shadows and hearts pounding when they woke at night, and fire in their eyes, a stubborn, worn down fury?)

They named it Challenge, carved it deep over the main gate, a name and a purpose.

Their first siege had been a holding action in the mines, Doc and his sons collapsing tunnels and digging new ones until winter came on and forced the Graves' soldiers back to their own walls. The vigilantes stayed in the mines, huddled together for warmth and comfort, elated and terrified at their own victory. Rosie and Susie roamed the passages, after, speaking to everyone and inviting a selection to a council - Kay was invited too, and sat awkwardly listening to them lay plans for rebuilding, how to build sturdy walls the moment the snows cleared enough. Their second came days after they carved Challenge over the gate, while Kay was still getting all of the sawdust out of his hair.

He went back to the bakery afterward, to pour over maps with Bea and be sent out on missions. They couldn't save everyone. They couldn't save most people, but some was better than none. Kay stared at the ceiling through long, sleepless nights, trying to convince himself that it was okay that he couldn't work miracles. People knew him by sight, now, and some days he didn’t feel he should be looking over his shoulder whenever they called out Giantkiller!

It was a long, slow war, their quiet campaign against the Graves family. Bea’s network grew and grew, despite their heavy losses - mages who escaped and ones who didn’t, the non-magical casualties who weren’t quick enough with a lie or a dodge, or were simply unlucky. Susie and Rosie were a fierce pair, exchanging razor sharp letters with Bea to plan out strategies and contingencies.

(It wasn’t until after his third siege at Challenge that Kay would realise that Bea had never actually met either of the sisters; she had never met Marian, either, but they had never communicated directly so it was easier to recall. The sisters and the Baker sent word back and forth for years, but barely knew anything of each other outside of their shared plans besides what he could pass on - for all that Bea would like to see Challenge, there was bread to bake and travel could be dangerous. Better not to give the Seeress any reason to look again at this sleepy village that she and hers had already gutted for fuel.)

Kay was no natural physician, but he helped to wrap bandages in Doc Frederickson’s infirmary whenever he was in Challenge, between meetings and sentry duty. In the streets and villages people expected him to be a hero; in the infirmary, Doc just expected him to be useful. He cracked bad jokes as distraction, fetched water, and peered over a bewildered man’s shoulder at a neat formula that someone had stumbled through the gates clutching. She didn’t remember where she’d found it, but it had been tucked into the lining of her coat. There was a note on the front in her own handwriting, for all she didn’t recall writing it - My first rabbit was called Snowball, and this is real, not a joke.

Doc’s hand shook so badly that he had to put the unfolded note down before he dropped it. Kay clutched the edge of the desk hard enough to hurt, looking between the message and the woman sat on the edge of an infirmary cot, gold dripping sluggishly from her fingertips to pool on the fabric. It would stain, leaving smudged hand-prints on the sheets and faintly in the mattress below, but they would consider it a miracle not a nuisance. She was sitting, fingertips trembling but no worse this morning than they had been any day of her journey north. She had been dragged from the cells, away from the machines that should have killed her, and rather than dying grateful for a final view of the sky she had found herself weeks to the South, in a town she hadn’t known and a recipe in her pocket in handwriting she didn’t recognise.

It wasn’t a cure, but it was still something no-one had thought to hope for. It was a medicine, true, but it was also a message: somebody, somewhere, was trying to save their mages too. They weren’t the only ones resisting this blight.

This, too: after that first midnight venture of Kay’s they had never been able to rescue anyone from the Graves’ keep. They had fought to prevent people being taken, rescued people from mage warded wagons, hissed warnings to make people hide or flee. They had built a town, walls and watchtowers, a beacon of resistance. But they had never managed to make their way into the keep itself undetected a second time, for all the desperate families who had tried, for all the curses the Seeress and the Mayor hissed when they found the doors open and cells empty. Kay and Bea would exchange long looks over the bakery table, and wonder who on the inside was setting people free and laying the blame at their convenient feet.

(In a lab none of them had never seen, Jillit Chu was saving life after life of people who she knew would never remember her name, secrets written in invisible letters on her skin when she went home at night. Thorne was pouring over reports, Jill’s own records, Jeremiah’s much less successful and yet officially far more vital analyses, the dispatches from his spies in the mountains. He wanted the Graves family dealt with, of course - but he wanted their secrets, too. Thorne was a Bureau man, and while Mayor Graves was always careful not to upset the Bureau, he was no more affiliated with them than the vigilantes that plagued his operations. It had never been the means of production that Thorne objected to, or the Graves’ would have been out of a business years before.

Spider didn’t know this; Andrew Molina had given years of his life to bring the machines down, weaving a web to tear it all down. He was trying to find a gap in his plans to let Sandry slip through; he knew where Sam had gone even if she didn’t, thought if he could get her out too then there would be a life for her away from the wreckage of her father’s dreams. If he had to, he knew he would let her fall with it and take the regrets, but he was an excellent Bureau agent - he liked his odds for achieving both. He wasn’t reaching out to Sam just yet - they were working to weaken the system, but it was slow work. The Baker and her resistance were an irritation, but they weren’t yet causing enough of a disruption to have materially disrupted production, to have strained the system, to be convincing the less dedicated that this was a fight they were going to lose.

Thorne had other agents, he knew, and they heard things the Spider didn’t. Reports that when put together said that this was going to be the work of more cold years - he measured them in people lost, and tried when those the Seeress saw were children to make sure he was spotted on the road, that whispers spread before him, warnings. He couldn’t let everyone slip away, not if he wanted to bring it all down, but he tried to save as many as he could - he felt every mage who burned for other people’s light as a weight on his shoulders. He kept walking, the Seeress’ right hand man, and did not stumble under that burden.)

Robin Hood died on an otherwise unremarkable winter’s day, stumbling back to the treeline with them, held up as much as their rescues. Marian’s hands didn’t shake as she lit the pyre, and Kay wondered if she would stay that cold for the rest of her life. She left with a handful of the Merry Men, the ones who’d been thinking of warmer pastures or those like her couldn’t stand to be beneath the trees without Robin. Kay wasn’t sure if she was angry at him or the world - Marian wasn’t, either. She had fought sieges at his side, before he begged Robin’s help for the last time; she knew his history, this mountain born boy who became a legend. She wouldn’t write to him or the Baker, but Little John would drop mentions into his occasional messages, and some days she was glad for the news.

When Kay had first stumbled into the Woods, an injured mage leaning on his shoulder and pursuit on his heels, it had been Marian who coolly shot down the armed guard and guided them beneath the trees. She had helped bandage up his rescue, and Robin had dropped down next to him at the fire. Kay wasn’t sure he had ever felt as safe as he did that night, curled up beneath the towering trees with their cheerful assurances that he didn’t need to worry about any armed followers tracking him here, dozing off in a borrowed bed roll on the hard ground. The Merry Men weren’t all kind to outsiders, but they loved Robin and respected Marian - if they were told he was a friend, he was a friend. Kay watched the smoke rise, the snow melting around them, and wondered if Robin would still be alive, if Kay hadn’t thought of him as a friend.

The remaining Merry Men stayed out of the fight, after that, nursing wounds physical and metaphorical, but Little John made it clear that the paths through the trees were still open to Kay and his rescues. More than one trembling mage and their shaken family were escorted safely south by the Merry Men after a night or two beneath the trees.

It was a long war, and Kay measured it first in months rather than days, then years rather than months; the Seeress was spreading her gaze further afield as the mountain villages became wary, as anyone with sparks at their fingertips fled before they needed warning. Kay gained scars from vicious brawls with guards, with the long limbed Spider, a bullet wound in the shoulder that would ache in the cold for the rest of his life from Spider’s deputy.

Kay was by no means the only person fighting this war, but he had become one of the lynchpins, the one who most often acted directly against the Graves’ network - his was the face the Seeress saw most in the wake of plans dissolving like smoke. She had a bespoke curse tucked in a pocket, and one vindictive day she set it loose. Bea watched the Giantkiller turn pale, shaky on feet that a moment before had been steady, and crumple. She caught him before he could hit the ground, and carried him gently to his room. She sent out frantic messages through her network, looking for healers, looking for anyone who could help. After three nights of fever, Little John crept into the bakery, cradling a pouch in his large, gentle hands. He was no trained healer, but he knew old stories, knew how to walk into the shadowed trees on a full moon night and ask for help for the deserving. He did not know what he had done, to mix this medicine, but when the sun had risen it had been in his hands.

Kay spent another three nights tossing and turning, but he woke with the sun on the seventh day. It would take weeks until he felt fully rested, and Little John warned him that full moons would make him restless for the rest of his days. He spent his time sorting Bea’s correspondence and helping her in the bakery, until she declared him fit for field work again. Even then they were wary, cautious. They had no doubts who had sent a curse to strike him down, for all they sneered at the hypocrisy - they watched for any sign that the Seeress had known where to strike, but found nothing amiss.

One morning, Kay woke to the sound of shattering crockery in the bakery below; he was wary, fresh bruises on his knuckles and sleeping light, recently home and still listening for ambushes. He crept downstairs, and found Bea pinned to the wall of her own kitchen with strings of golden fire, the butter dish broken on the floor. The slingstone he pitched through the door landed, but its target had moved in time and took a glancing bruise to the arm rather than a blow to the head. She held up calloused palms, but he could see the gun at her hip and the gold holding Bea in place: he wasn’t fool enough to think that she was anything other than ready to take him down if he moved. She smiled, a precise and practiced thing. “Hello. Apologies for breaking in, but I needed to speak to the Baker and the Giantkiller, and I believe this is the right address?” Her smile turned feral, a fierce grin that looked more at home on her lips. “I’m an agent from the Bureau quiet branch, and I thought you might want to know we’re planning to bring the Graves’ down in a few weeks’ time.”

Bea made a scoffing sound, the gold fire glittering off her eyes, and the woman flicked her fingers to twist the fire into nothing again. Kay itched to go to Bea, check that she was alright, but he knew better. There were two of them and one armed intruder - better to keep her looking in two directions, for all that she seemed to think she was on their side, for all that he had no doubt which of them would win, if it came to a fight. Kay had years of experience, true, but you didn’t make it to being a field agent with the quiet branch without a fearsome skillset to your name.

She eyed their distrust with amused, approving resignation, and patiently laid out the bones of the web she and Spider had been steadily weaving, the tipping point that was coming. Kay frowned at the hints, puzzling out tactics, and Bea traced her fingertips over her map - the markers of lives saved, the ones of lives lost. There was an empty room upstairs she still couldn’t bear to use, years later. Kay did not and would never know that sometimes when Bea woke from nightmares these days they had been about waking to find the house cold and the curtains in his cosy room billowing in the night air, for all that he was no more a mage that she was. She eyed their guest with as much professional disregard as the woman had shown her, breaking into a house warded over the years by careful, grateful hands as though it was nothing.

“And why now? Why are you and yours only tearing down the Graves’ now? We know who you are, Agent, and for all I’ve heard of you you’re in the Graves’ pocket, the Spider’s precious protege.” She curled a lip, a mountain woman from a village that couldn’t afford walls, that had begged and begged for Bureau protection and been told to come back with gold in their pockets. “Why have the Bureau decided that now they can deign to get involved? Why are you here, breaking into my home, to tell me you’ve finally decided to care enough to stop it?”

"They killed my brother," snapped Laney, an old, bitter hurt - and the Baker looked back at her coldly, as though that didn't explain anything at all.

"They've killed a lot of people." The sharpshooter stiffened, hand twitching as though she might have gone for a gun if she hadn’t needed them alive. Bea didn't flinch from the movement, expression hard and unforgiving. "How many have you helped them kill? I could tell you, I think, because I hear almost everyone's story about the ones they lost, sooner or later. Do you know what we call you, when we whisper warnings? What legend did you think you were building, in your brother's memory?"

The Ballad of Agent Jones

Laney Jones had stumbled at her brother’s beloved heels for years, until he left the desert in search of new horizons. Years later, she had followed in his footsteps once again, Academy papers in her pocket and a handful of hard-won fire clutched close to keep her warm on the journey. She was planning to find her big brother, one day. She was going to show him what she could do, what she had made of herself, and she was going to see the pride in his eyes once again. It was a warm thought, one she had clung to through cold nights of hidden practice and long days of doubting her worth.

In her second year at the Academy, armed men broke into the fish shop where her study group were having their first meeting. When Thorne took her aside in the days after, to have a private chat with such a promising young woman, he glanced over her skin tone and the name in his file, and paused. He asked, carefully, if she had any connection to a Liam Jones, another powerful mage he had heard of. Laney beamed with familial pride, and a certain quiet joy that she had been put on the same level as Liam. "My brother, sir. He whistles up his magic, though I never had the knack for it."

Thorne called her in again a week later, for another chat, but his face was serious and even the glint of his glasses seemed subdued. There was a thin file on his desk, L. Jones scrawled on the outside. Laney's heart froze, because she knew there was no reason for the Bureau to have files on her, not yet.

"I am sorry, miss Jones, but Liam Jones died almost seven years ago, in the mountains." He pushed the file towards her, sympathy but not pity in his voice. "There are people there who - deal in mages. It seems that there was no one to warn him to hide." He pressed a clean handkerchief into her hand and went to fetch water for the kettle. He could have called for someone to bring them tea, but Thorne understood that people sometimes needed a moment alone with their grief.

The contents of the file had been heavily redacted, because the work of the Bureau quiet branch investigating the trade in mages was an ongoing thing, and a sister's grief didn't give you rights to all of the carefully gathered details. But there were a few stark lines that were intact - a description, a date of capture. A short summary of a doomed escape attempt that made her smile with fierce, pained pride. A date of death.

What had she been doing, that day? Where had she been, when her brother's song vanished from the world?

Thorne made her tea and made no comment on her damp eyelashes, told her she could speak to him at any time if she felt she needed someone who was aware of the situation to listen. He asked for her family's contact details, so that he could write to tell them the terrible news personally. He straightened the papers on his desk and promised to tell her when he sent it, in case she wanted to write as well, but he said that it shouldn't be her job to break it to them unless she wanted it to be.

Laney signed the quiet branch's letter of employment before the week was up.

She would never run the backstreets of Rivertown with Rupert; he would perhaps have trusted Sez, Bart and their secret, steady work to fellow Academy students, if a bit warily, but not to someone with Thorne looking over her shoulder from the beginning. Laney spent her spare hours at the Academy in the library or out on the firing range, and felt trapped, burning in her own skin.

When the battle of Driftwood Island came, when she realised that the monsters of fire were slipping in from the Elsewhere, it was Thorne she went to, to say she could help; she stitched the rift closed while the Rangers held their own in the wreckage above. She didn’t tell Thorne how she’d done it, exactly, but she agreed that they shouldn’t tell anyone it had been her - no point in making her a target, after all.

(Laney wouldn’t remember any of this for years; until then, so far as she could recall she’d spent the whole battle helping to shield sections of lower Rivertown from fire damage. If there was a gap in her recollection - well, it was so easy to lose track in your first real battle, for everything to blur together. The Rangers couldn’t recall exactly who had stitched the rift up while they bought time, and it nagged at them for years, too)

On her first day at the Bureau’s quiet branch as a junior agent, Laney made her way to Thorne's office, shoulders carefully square and chin held level, and asked him what she would need to do to become part of the group working on the mage slave trade case.

Thorne had known her brother's name, his description; not just the dates of his disappearance but those of his escape attempt and death, the clinical numbers documenting how much power had been wrested from his bones. Laney had known, even in the midst of grief - these were not things you could learn without someone on the inside. These were not things you knew, the shadowy quiet branch of the governing powers, unless you had plans to do something with the information.

Laney had her own plans; she had always intended to use the Bureau just as much as Thorne had planned to use her.

When the Seeress saw her, Spider’s newest potential recruit, she smiled slightly in recognition, sinister and small. She asked Laney why she was applying to a role with the Graves' network. Laney had looked her dead in the eye, shoulders relaxed and everything gold around her shining true.

"My brother was a mage, a powerful one. I grew tired a long time ago of being a shadow because I don't have gold dripping from my fingers."

Neither Kay or Bea trusted the Agent and her casually mentioned ally - Spider had been a nightmare in the mountains for longer than Kay had known of this fight, and had never slipped into the Baker’s net to whisper secrets to her deputy. In another life, the Baker’s right hand had been a girl who saw nothing but blood and ash on her palms, who had once let a whole village die, unseen, because she wanted to live; in another life, the Spider had been confident that the Dragon Slayer would understand the price he was paying. He would have offered himself as an informant, trusting in her pragmatism to take his information and keep the source to herself. In another life, Bea had years of listening to George talk haltingly about the place she had once called home, the dragon they had given her a legend for, and would have listened to her, taken the information even if reluctantly.

But the Giantkiller had no such weight on his shoulders, and Spider had spent too long working himself into the Graves’ good graces to risk his position on that kind of gamble.

They didn’t trust Agent Jones or the Spider, let alone the Bureau man with twinkling glasses who slipped into Challenge with a promise of information and a cheerful litany of all of Kay’s illegal activities, but they couldn’t afford not to take their warnings. Challenge prepared for another siege, hunkering down to withstand whatever the Graves’ threw at them, and Kay decided when the Rangers arrived to support the defenders that his life was worth the gamble and followed two shadowy spies into the Keep, a decoy captive.

He’d been here just once before; after that, the Mayor had finally listened to Sandry’s murmurings about weak points in their security, and no-one had broken into the keep since. Spider let them in through a side door, and Kay shuddered as it clicked closed behind him. They burned the machines, Agent Jones lighting the mage blasts, but the engineer wasn’t there, the careful blueprints and plans stored somewhere other than this cold office. Kay turned a corner and ran into the Seeress, the first time he had seen her face to face. They stared at one another, frozen; she was frantically figuring out how the Giantkiller had made it into the keep unnoticed - and he had no idea who he just run into, unsure if he should tell her who he was and hesitating to use force on someone he thought might be an innocent.

Spider stepped up behind him, and the Seeress’ cold mask slipped, fractured as she looked between them, Sandry feeling her steady ground shift beneath her feet. Spider’s hand settled warningly over Kay’s shoulder, yanking him back and cuffing him to a stair-rail to keep the boy in place as the recognition dawned, while he frantically whispered at Sandry - telling her to leave, to slip out of the side door and hide, that she could join her brother and start over. The Seeress snapped out sharp retorts, demanding to know what exactly the Bureau knew of her baby brother, and Kay felt an abrupt, unwelcome fellow feeling - he knew what it was, to fear the extent of the Bureau’s files, to want the names of you and yours kept secret. The Seeress was trembling, torn between drawing herself up and in, hurt and terrified of showing it, and wanting to trust, for just a little longer, that the Spider was on her side.

Mayor Graves turned the corner, calling for the Seeress, his useful little monster, because someone had been in his office, burned his papers to ash. He was clutching a weapon that pulsed gold (in the cells below, there was a trembling body, the magic in their blood ripped free and pushed into a new vessel), concerned but not frantic. He spied Kay, and his face broke into a smirk. Spider stood with a relaxed stance, hand on his holstered gun, face a mask while he weighed options. The Seeress straightened her spine. Her father had told her all her life that mages were selfish, hoarding power, that their work was a sad necessity for the wellbeing of the many. He was holding a gun that took that power and put it in his own two hands - Sandry had made Spider teach her to shoot years ago, on the quiet, because she wanted something she could do, to defend herself and her brother, something to hold onto that would give her power that didn’t rely on words. She knew that this was a power he had made for himself to cling to.

The Giantkiller was a child, still, and almost as young as her brother had been when she pressed a bag into his hands and told him to flee. Her father was pointing a gun at a boy barely older than his son, and everything in him was twisting gleeful with it. She murmured, dispassionate, that the boy might have useful information. That Spider should take him downstairs for questioning, to find out about the gaps in their defences - a security breach such as this must be investigated carefully, for all their sakes. Spider could dispose of the pest, after. Mayor Graves had never been in the habit of listening to his daughter, and she wanted to scream it at him as he dismissed her again without even a word.

The Mayor took an experimental shot at the Giantkiller, burning the ground by Kay’s left leg to cinders, and crumpled to the ground. Agent Jones slipped out of the shadows behind him, ash dusting her fingertips, pistol held steady and familiar in her hand. She glanced down at the body, cold, and wondered if she would regret never getting to tell him exactly why she’d taken aim, a sniper’s precise shot under cover of his own.

Spider stepped casually in front of Sandry, and with a glare Agent Jones holstered her gun before striding briskly by both her mentor and the Seeress to release the bindings holding Kay in place.

“C’mon, Giantkiller. Let’s get you back to your friends at Challenge, and the boss in here to sort out everything else.” She slid her eyes sideways towards Spider. “I’ll be sure to tell him that you have the Seeress in your custody, sir.” Spider gave a resigned sigh, but made no other objection. Kay felt he ought to protest, to argue against leaving the Seeress unchained, to snap that it should have been him who took down the Mayor, but this had never been just his fight, for all his was the name the Seeress had hissed in the wake of foiled plans. He let himself be guided out, Agent Jones brisk and efficient, a polite smile pasted on her face.

Thorne was waiting for them outside, cheerfully confident in his Agents and the Giantkiller. He told Kay that Challenge had withstood the final siege, but couldn’t tell him the cost. Kay, seething, bit his tongue at the man’s oily reminders that in the quiet branch’s service, any messy rumours about illegal activities would be swept under the rug. The Giantkiller jerked his head back at the keep. “The mayor is dead, but the Seeress is still alive in there.” Thorne pursed his lips, nodding. “Good, good. The mayor had to be removed, though alive would have been…preferable. Young Cassandra can take over, however, to maintain consistency - with supervision, of course, before you say anything.” Kay scowled. “She fed mages into his machines for years.” Thorne smiled at him, condescendingly, shaking his head like a kindly grandfather.

“We cannot simply remove every political figure we disagree with. She is young. She will be managed. You should be making your way to Challenge, however. I’m sure your friends will want to hear the good news.” Agent Jones watched the boy stalk away, carefully keeping her face neutral. She was an old hat at manipulating people, after years of practice - she could see that Thorne was trying to collect another recruit. She could also see that he was going about it in entirely the wrong fashion, but she didn’t think it was worth pointing that out.

Thorne glanced at her sideways. “The mayor is dead, Agent Jones?” “Yes sir. An unfortunate necessity to avoid further loss of life.” He heaved a sigh, but didn’t question it. “Very well then. Let us go and debrief Spider, and explain the new order of things to Miss Graves.”

Even with the Mayor gone, the keep was still hostile territory; Agent Jones was on high alert, so when she heard a door click softly closed as they walked through the entry way she waved Mr Thorne on ahead of her, waiting until Dadlus thought it was safe to emerge again. She tackled him to the ground, and had him cuffed and cursing by the time Thorne, Spider and the Seeress made their way back down the stairs. Thorne’s face turned gleeful when he saw her captive. He rubbed his hands together. “Excellent! Good work, Agent Jones.” The Seeress’ head snapped toward him, eyes widening fractionally in surprise before he spoke. “I have a Bureau engineer who desperately needs to pick your brains, particularly as it seems the Giantkiller was able to burn all of the blueprints. You're going to be very valuable to us.”

Spider was staring between Thorne and Dadlus, ice slipping down his spine as he put the pieces together, discovered the game Thorne had been playing all along. He had spent years working in this keep, shoulders weighed down by so many lives he had been unable to save, who he had sacrificed to ensure he could bring it all to an end. He took three long steps forward and slid the knife he always carried up his sleeve between the engineer's ribs. "I didn't let children die for years so the Bureau could turn around and do the same thing all over again." Dadlus slumped to the ground, blood pooling under him. Thorne went for his gun, but Agent Jones was quicker - in a different life, it would have been dragon’s fire that killed Gerald Thorne, but in this one it was handfuls of Elsewhere fire that Laney had been carrying around her wrists for years, hidden even from the Seeress.

Cassandra stared at them both over the cooling body, shaken - she had always seen everything, every secret and every weakness, and here she found both: her lieutenants had been hiding secrets upon secrets, tucked carefully away where she hadn’t found them, and so she was weak where she’d thought her back was guarded. She wondered if it would be a bullet or a blaze that came for her, whether Spider would help or if he would pull her out of the way.

Agent Jones didn’t glance her way: she and Spider were eying each other, weighing up their priorities and potentials. Spider wanted Sandry to go free - she had barely been an adult when he arrived at the keep, for all that it had taken him weeks to discover she wasn’t cold years older. He had realised within those first months of working his way into her network just how young she must have been, when the Mayor told her she was a monster and turned her into a tool.

Laney had always wanted revenge for her brother, justice for the other victims. She had burned the machines with glee and felt no guilt for shooting the Mayor down. She felt no guilt for burning Throne, either - she wanted the machines gone as much as Spider. But she knew who it was who had found her brother, who had sent armed thugs with Elsewhere cracks in their pockets after Liam. She had told herself she would feel no guilt for shooting the Seeress, either, even when she saw the date of birth in the briefing files.

But Laney had spent a year now with Sandry and the Spider; she remembered the squeaky sage in her second year study group, the one she still sometimes met in the University library to chatter over Elsewhere theory. She had heard Sandry talk about Sam, but she had heard Grey talk about Sandry, too. She thought she talked about Liam the same way, sometimes.

“Thorne said we would leave you in charge,” she spoke softly, as though the words were of no importance. “So we will. But you do not re-start operations, and Spider and I will make sure of it.” Agent Jones holstered her gun, turned to the Seeress, and raised an eyebrow. “But the people around here will freeze in winter, without help. Your people, now. So, I’ve a challenge for you - I know you’ve studied how the machines work, how to make them more efficiently. But have you ever tried to figure out how you can wrest this power from thin air and turn it into something useful?”

Laney Jones pressed her hand up to the skin of the world and broke it; in the glow of the Elsewhere she was radiant, and Cassandra would have shielded her eyes if she’d been able to bear looking away. All her life, she had been told that what they did was the only way, only fair.

She stared, eyes stinging, and thought I have never seen a mage burn so bright.

Kay spent the weeks after at Challenge helping to shore up the damage; Bea left the bakery to help, bandaging the wounded and scolding him for taking foolish risks. They knelt side by side in the community garden, repairing damaged trellises and trying to see which of the fragile growths could be coaxed back into health and which needed to be turned to compost. One water break, surveying the rows they’d managed to restore, he idly turned a stone over and said, “What are we going to do now? What’s next?” She didn’t pretend he was talking about the garden, though she didn’t reply until they were carting the next load of dug up plants to the compost heap.

“I don’t know. It’s been so long since I didn’t have -” And he put his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder; Bea had turned herself to stone in so many ways, over the years, since she woke to a cold house and an empty bedroom, and now her war was won. There would be pieces to pick up, rebuilding that would take years. The Seeress was still in the keep, and for all that Agent Jones assured them she wasn’t going to be a problem it still sat bitter under both their tongues. It would take months for the mountain villagers to feel safe, for a child with sparks flicking between fingertips to inspire joy not terror. It would take years, a lifetime - several lifetimes. There was work for Bea to bury herself in still, but for now there was sun on her shoulders and there would be no mages lost in the night. For now, she could realise they were safe, as safe as you could ever be, and weep for all those who hadn’t been.

Later, shoulder to shoulder in the crowded inn, Kay would rest his head on her shoulder, quiet.

“I think I should go back to the farm, for a bit. See my dad, yeah? Make sure he knows I’m okay.” He nudged her with an elbow, gentle. “I’ll come back, though. But I promised I wouldn’t leave without telling you, so I am. I’m going to head back to the farm and get shouted at, so you aren’t even going to be the only one nagging me about taking risks, then I’m gong to come back to the bakery and chop wood for you.” She laughed softly.

“That’s your life plan?” He grinned, and it was a younger face that looked back at her than she’d seen for years. He was still a child, really, for all that he was growing tall and gangly. He shrugged. "For now. I’d like to go a few weeks with no-one trying to kill me, it’d make a nice change. Later - well. Maybe I’ll go get myself a Badge, I'm almost old enough. Sarge told me plenty of times he reckons I could do it, and I’ve daydreamed about it for years, you know? Be a proper Hero, join the Rangers as an intern. Agent Jones told me Thorne is dead - I didn't ask for details, I thought she might shoot me - and that I didn't need to worry about my name being in any paperwork with the Giantkiller, so long as I say Thorne was tragically killed in the fight with the Mayor. I could do it, if I wanted.” They sat in silence for a while longer, watching the crowd. After a while, Bea ruffled his hair gently. “Maybe you should go to the Academy, get yourself a career lined up. But if you’ll take an old baker’s suggestion - I think you’d make a better Guide, all things considered. You've had enough practice at being a hero.”

In the morning, before he set out for the old farm he hadn’t been back to in years, Kay climbed up the flights of stairs to the uppermost platform of the wall that surrounded Challenge. The wooden posts were riddled with marks, from flung weapons and the sooty streaks left by stolen mage fire, idle carved graffiti left by bored sentries - names and old in jokes, defiant records left when they knew they were all inviting battle to their doorstep. He stood looking out at the surrounding peaks as the sun rose, thinking about the Leauges and Bureau policy, about a roc digging claws into his shoulder and long summer sieges, the machines burning and Mayor Graves crumpling lifeless to his plush carpet, and dug out his pocket knife.

We were here.

#my writing #Jack is a Beanstalk #Beanstalk #Echoes of a Giantkiller #Remember the Dust #this one went way more off canon than usual #I was planning to spend more time with more of the background characters #Sorry Susie and Rosie I'll have to give you more screentime another time #because Kay kind of...took over #L&L fic #the mountain vigilantes never become the mountain vigilantes #other people still step up to the fight #Leagues and legends

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simplybakugou · 4 years

Text

The Villain -- Ch. 8: Coming Clean

A/N: the fact that I started this in 2018… I’M SO READY TO FINALLY FINISH THIS SHITTY STORY SO I'M SORRY IF THIS IS ACTUAL GARBAGE, I'M JUST DONE WITH THIS LMAO

Pairing: villain!bakugou x female!reader

Warnings: swearing; a little steamy 👀

Word Count: 3,539

Remember, if you want to be tagged in future chapters, comment below and I’ll add your username to the list!

LINKS TO NEW CHAPTERS

✐posted 06.03.2020✐

Bakugou kicked open the door to the Kamino Ward, feeling absolutely enraged with his fists clenched at his sides. “Where are you, Warp Gate fucker?!”

Kurogiri felt himself flinch behind the bar as Bakugou trudged inside the building, slamming his palms down onto the table. Even he felt himself shudder under the piercing gaze of his vermillion eyes, shifting in place in discomfort.

“What is it, Ground Zero?” Kurogiri asked.

“What the fuck did you do to the Comission Center? I didn’t give you any orders to pull that shit,” Bakugou grunted, feeling his palms sweat as little sparks erupted from his palms subconsciously.

Kurogiri looked back at Bakugou plainly. “With all due respect, Ground Zero, I don’t think what you’ve been doing has been benefiting the League of Villains. In addition…”

Kurogiri paused looking up to meet Bakugou’s gaze. “It seems to me that you have personal feelings for (H/N), which is what is holding you back. And frankly, I do not support this as our cause is completely different from those heroes.”

Bakugou laughed humorlessly, not believing a single word he was hearing. “Alright, let’s say you don’t trust me, which I don’t give a fuck about because I’m the leader for a reason. But who the fuck was with you ‘cause there no way in hell you’d be able to cause that much damage with that shitty quirk of yours.”

Kurogiri sighed. “The second person in question was a fake. There was no one else there. I used explosives to cause the damage to the area. Those heroes misread what they saw and relayed the information incorrectly. We must increase the pace in which we’re taking to finalize our goal: destroy every single hero there is.”

Bakugou scoffed, nodding along to his story. He didn’t believe what he was saying, realizing that Kurogiri was most likely covering for the person most likely behind all of this. Nevertheless, Bakugou was willing to put up with Kurogiri’s antics… for now.

“Alright… I’ll let it go for now, but next time tell me first before you do some dumb shit like this,” Bakugou said curtly, pushing back and moving towards the exit. He stopped in his tracks, looking back at Kurogiri in annoyance. “And I don’t like that shitty girl either so get that thought out of your fucking ass!”

***

“Are the reporters all out there?” You asked, wanting to peek behind the curtain in the conference hall.

Tsubaki, the one who called you immediately following the incident at the Hero Public Safety Commission Center, peeked through the curtain gasping at the sight. “There’s so many of them out there!”

You sighed, your heart feeling heavy due to the large amount of people in one room awaiting for Natsuya’s speech as well as the reason for the press conference. Although you were never close to him, you felt awful about what had happened to Hawks as he was a major hero when you were still a teenager in U.A.

“I’m surprised Yamashita got so many people here at once in such a short amount of time!” Tsubaki exclaimed.

You nodded in agreement. “I mean, what else would you expect from the Chief of Police?”

Natsuya emerged from the conference room where other officers, the head of the Hero Commission Center, and other officials followed. Natsuya shot you a small smile, his nerves skyrocketing as he was instructed to go out onto the small stage placed in front of all of the reporters. The curtain pulled back and flashes of cameras glowed in the room as the reporters rapidly took pictures.

Natsuya took a deep breath, standing in front of the podium as he was chosen to deliver the news to everyone. You stayed behind the curtain with Tsubaki and other heroes who attended.

“The events that took place yesterday were horrific and outright evil. We have confirmed that the villain Kurogiri and an unidentified second villain were the ones responsible for this atrocity. We have also confirmed that villains Dabi and Ground Zero were nowhere to be seen during these events, therefore are not responsible. Nevertheless, the League of Villains are still held accountable for this, and will be held accountable for the health damage that hero Hawks faced. The hospital also confirms that Hawks had his quirk taken away from him through the Quirk-Destroying Drug that hadn’t been used for years since Shigaraki was the original leader of the League of Villains.” Natsuya continued to relay crucial information to the crowd as they typed vigorously, trying to keep up with him as he spoke.

“What do you plan on doing, (H/N)?” Tsubaki asked you, half-listening to Natsuya and half-anticipating what you were going to say.

“If it wasn’t clear before, it’s clear now,” you stated. “We have to take down the League, no matter who stands in our way.”

***

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” Natsuya’s concerned voice came through the speakers of your car as you drove down the highway.

“Stop worrying about be, Tsuya, you’re going to burst a blood vessel,” you joked. “I’m just visiting home. Things are getting suffocating so I just need a breather.”

“Alright, let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Natsuya said, causing a smile to tease at your lips.

“I know I can rely on you for anything. I’ll talk to you later.” You ended the call, parking your car in front of your childhood home. Exiting your vehicle, you stood in front of your house where your father still resided, hesitant to enter. Your fingers curled into fists, deciding to not go in anyways and you made your way towards the opposite direction of the street.

Since your mother’s passing, your father had been adamant about his disapproval of your passion and profession. No matter how many honorary medals or titles you earned, your father never approved of anything. By the time you had officially become a pro, having just graduated from U.A., your father vowed to never speak to you again. It had been years since you’d spoken to him and you were nervous to encounter him again despite how many times Natsuya, who still was in contact with him, pushed you to make the first move. But you simply couldn’t.

You didn’t know where you were going, your feet taking you down the trail. Your old neighborhood was quiet and pleasant, trees, flowers, and bushes littered almost everywhere. That was why it felt like second nature for you to walk to the old park by your home, one that you and the rest of your friends from U.A. would spend time after school. But once you had finally reached the park, you felt heartbroken at the sight.

The previously lively park with acres of land and trees had been ripped apart, now a construction site with heaps of trash littering the area. It had been too long since you had last been here so you knew things would be different. Nevertheless, you hopped over the fence that stood in front of the site to keep away trespassers. You didn’t care about the consequences at the moment, wanting to sit somewhere, not caring where it was so long as you were able to clear your head somehow.

There were numerous cranes and other machines and equipment scattered across the yard. Having picked a random one, you used your quirk to push yourself atop an excavator. A deep sigh escaped from your lips as you looked out into the horizon. You could see your house from here and even some of your friends’ old homes. You stared particularly at the biggest house in the area, the Bakugou house, that was now empty. After Bakugou had turned to the League, his mother and father left the city and no one knew where they resided now. It seemed wherever Bakugou went, he brought pain and misery along with him.

“The hell?!” A certain gruff voice exclaimed from beside you. You looked to the left, eyes widening at the sight of Bakugou staring back at you with a similar expression. He was lying on the ginormous machine. You hadn’t noticed him as the space was so large and your mind was racing at a thousand miles per minute that you couldn’t even acknowledge his existence.

Before you could open your mouth to utter even a word, Bakugou was quick to jump down from the machine, avoiding you at all costs. But you were even quicker to create a gravel barrier between him and the fence using your quirk, trapping him in the space. Bakugou cursed under his breath as he was too flustered to react quick enough. You created an elevator-like step underneath Bakugou’s feet, maneuvering him back up the excavator. He didn’t utter a word nor did he attempt to flee this time, staring at you silently as he stepped back onto the machine.

You were surprised, looking at him curiously. “You’re not going to try to run, Katsuki?”

Bakugou sighed, plopping back down onto the metal surface, criss-crossing his legs. He scoffed, avoiding your gaze. “And you’re not gonna arrest me, hero?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your legs to your chest. You wrapped your arms around them, leaning your head on your knees. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. And what about you, villain, you’re not going to wreak havoc on a city?”

Bakugou smirked at your wit, shrugging. “You’re not the only one with a lot on their mind.”

You sighed for what felt like the hundredth time all day. You were tired, absolutely exhausted. It seemed like you were battling the whole world at times, especially with the best pro heroes being targeted now. What happened to Hawks made you feel unsettled, like the League was going after specific heroes. It didn’t seem right that just as Hawks had advised for you to back down from any League related business, he was permanently out of commission. And it made you feel disquieted as the fear that Bakugou was behind this attack was in the back of your mind, no matter if he was there at the site of the attack physically or not. It made you feel like you couldn’t continue fighting for his innocence and you had to hold him accountable now.

“Were you the one behind the attack at the Hero Commission Center?” You asked bluntly, astounding Bakugou with your straightforwardness.

“Tch, as if I would be behind the attack that hurt my fucking boss.” The words echoed through your head, despite Bakugou mumbling it in an attempt to not let you catch on. But you heard every word, the words that you were waiting to hear for years.

“What? Your boss?” You repeated in shock.

Bakugou’s vermillion eyes flitted over to you, shining brightly against the beam of the setting sun. “You heard me. Hawks is my boss.”

He chuckled humorlessly at your bewildered expression, your lips parted as you attempted to find the right words to say and your eyes like the shape of saucers. “Got nothin’ to say? It’s what you’ve been waiting for all this time.”

“You’re an idiot,” you grunted, angered to no end. Bakugou looked at you, confused beyond words.

“What?” He knew one day he would have to come clean to you, the one person who saw through his act. He anticipated tears, confusion, shock, and happiness. But you were reacting in a way he had not expected.

“It’s about time you came clean!” You exclaimed, your voice echoing through the streets.

Bakugou closed the space between the two of you, clamping a calloused hand over your lips. “Be quiet! You’re gonna let the whole world fucking hear!”

You shook his hand from your face, turning your body to face him completely. Crossing your hands over your chest, you glared right at him. “Tell me, tell me everything.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, looking off into the distance and avoiding your gaze once more. “There’s nothing to it really. Hawks and the Hero Commission Center came to me right after the Kamino Incident to act as a double agent. Those shitheads still want me working for them to find the real leader behind the League but I’ve got no clue right fucking now.”

He glanced over at you, and although he would never admit it, he felt slightly intimidated under your glaring stare. “What? That’s everything, I mean it.”

“So you have nothing to do with the League, right?” You clarified, wanting to make sure that Bakugou was innocent. “You never hurt a single person, right? All those people are telling lies, right? You didn’t kill Shigaraki?” You were referring to all the people who were witnesses and victims under Bakugou’s supposed kidnapping.

“Can’t say I’m completely innocent. I’ve definitely hurt people, punched a civilian or two to make sure my act was solid and believable. But I didn’t kidnap or kill anyone.” Bakugou felt slightly relieved once your stare faltered a little. “All I know is the real leader is acting like me and putting up with my act. Seems like whoever it is, they want me to take all the heat and blame for now. And that person’s the one who killed ole crusty face, not me. I was just the one who found his body and was blamed for it.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You had dreamed of this day, the day where everything would make sense and you would understand Bakugou’s actions. But here you were, utterly confused beyond belief. “Why would the real leader go along with your act? How is it benefitting them?”

“My guess is that it’s probably someone on the other side. A hero, officer, someone in the commission center? One of those fuckers has to be fooling all of us and running this shit on the sidelines.” Bakugou paused momentarily, looking ahead. “With me around, that asshole can put the blame all on me while working with that Warp Gate fucker. But I’m close, I know that for sure. Soon enough I'll be allowed to finally be free and not have to worry about living this fucked up life anymore.”

You continued to look at him, smiling at the sight of the ends of his lips curling upwards a little. You had missed that smile. “And what do you plan to do? Once you’re free and don’t have to follow anymore orders?”

Bakugou shrugged, running a hand through the ash blonde spikes on his head. “Do whatever the fuck I want. Can’t be a hero, that’s out of the question. I’ll worry about that when I’m free.”

You smiled and nodded, a weight lifting off your shoulders. You felt a surge of relief run through your veins, a feeling you could never describe into words. You felt proud for believing in him all this time, believing that he was innocent. And you missed him, missed your dear friend from childhood.

“It must’ve been lonely… dealing with this and losing your adolescence,” you muttered, looking away from Bakugou and looking down at the horizon where the sun had painted the sky with orange and pink hues. Bakugou looked over at you, startled by your statement. There you were, not blaming him for anything, not for the lies or the deception. Instead you were selflessly worrying about him and the time that was taken from him living his life.

“Calling me an idiot… you’re the real idiot here,” Bakugou grumbled, narrowing his eyes at you.

You looked over at him, confused by his words. “What?”

Bakugou stood up, taking a few steps towards you, and kneeling down in front of you. His face was inches from yours, alarming you from his quick movements. He stared into your (E/C) eyes for a moment, sighing again and looking down at your feet. “I was told that all I had to do was keep this act up and soon I’d be done. But now Hawks is outta the picture and I don’t know what the fuck to do. I can’t do this alone, I need help. That asshole behind this is probably gonna pull another one on me and then I’ll be helpless. My head’s all fucked up right now.”

“And as if my head isn’t already fucked from all this villain-hero shit goin’ on…” Bakugou swiftly pushed you back down onto the cool metal surface of the excavator, his body hovering over yours and his hands pinning yours on either side of your head. His legs straddled your body down as his scarlet eyes pierced right through yours. A whimper escaped your lips as your cheeks heated up from the proximity of your bodies. Bakugou stared down at you, his face twisted in dubiety. “You’re makin’ it worse, driving me fucking insane. You’re the only one who’s ever believed in me, and you’re driving me insane. You’re making me fucking fall for you.”

The world felt still in that moment and you didn’t even feel the breeze drift off in the air. All you could was the intimidating stare Bakugou had on you, sending shivers down your spine and his touch sending electricity down your veins. “What are you-?”

Before you could finish your question, Bakugou closed the gap between your head and his, slamming his lips on yours. A gasp escaped your lips as he pushed his lips roughly against yours. He lowered his body on you, hips grinding into you. You pried your hands free from his hold, one hand clutching his blonde locks while the other gripped onto the nape of his neck, wanting him closer to you. You felt hot and bothered, bothered at how turned on you were by this whole situation.

Bakugou’s lips were warm and soft against yours, moving in a rhythm you were having difficulty keeping up with. He made your body feel a way that you had never felt before as you felt hot yet cold at the same time. You were gasping for air, moans escaping your lips as you could barely keep up with his body grinding against you. You had never felt this way, no one made you feel this way, not even Natsuya.

That was when yours hands went down to Bakugou’s shoulders, pushing him back up and his face away from you. Bakugou stared down at you, angered that you had cut this moment short as you both attempted to catch your breaths and come down from the high you were on.

“Natsuya…” You uttered simply, causing Bakugou to scoff harder than he ever had. He didn’t care for your police boyfriend, never really caring for him even when you were teenagers.

“Forget it,” Bakugou grunted, standing to his feet and jumping down to the ground.

“Katsuki, wait!” You called out, sitting up and looking down. But you were too late, he was already gone.

***

You kicked a loose piece of gravel on the path, your hand shoved in your pocket as you made your way down the cemetery. Your other hand went up to touch your lips as the images of Bakugou’s body atop of your own made you feel both flustered and guilty. You cared for Natsuya so much as he was your closest friend and you had just quite literally cheated on him. But he never made you feel the way Bakugou did when he was around you. Nevertheless, it didn’t excuse your actions and you knew you had to make it right once you got back.

But now you stood in front of the main reason why you even visited your hometown: to see your mother.

You knelt in front of her tombstone, clapping your hands together and bowing your head. “It’s been a while, Mom. I’m sorry I haven’t visited.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you sat your rear down in front of her grave, staring at the engraving of her name. “I don’t know what to do, Mom, I feel so conflicted. I’ve been waiting for this moment, waiting to find out about Katsuki’s innocence. And now I know about it, and I think he was indirectly asking me for help. But he… asked me in such an odd way, like he had been waiting a long time to do… that.”

Your hand rose and pressed against the cool stone, your finger tracing the engraving. “I want to help him. I want to be there for him while also doing my job. What do I do, Mom?”

You sat there for a few minutes, as if you were waiting to hear a response. You chuckled, shaking your head at yourself. What am I even doing?

You rose to your feet, making your way back to your car until a blunt object hit the back of your head, causing your body to crash into the dirt. Your head was throbbing and you felt the object hit the same spot again, a scream erupting from you in pain as you attempted to take a look at the perpetrator.

A man laughed. “You couldn’t just keep your nose outta this one, huh, hero?”

And just like that, the world went black.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tagging: @chims-kookies @bokunoheroes-stories @iamthe-leaf @simplysymphonic @mylittlesunshineblog @imyourliquor-youremypoison @sunflowerchild27 @geesshoku @ghoularaki @katsukiwonu @kotakingly @tyongflight @sparkexplosive @minniepresents @thorohdamnson

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #katsukibakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bnha bakugou #katsuki #kacchan

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neshabeingchildish · 4 years

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League of Extraordinary Geniuses || Chapter 6

I’d been trying NOT to, in case others wanted to read this story, but at this point, I’ve only seen fans of these fandoms interact, so there will be things mentioned that if you didn’t watch the shows, you’ll be lost about. So sorry if there are others here now, but I am mostly writing for those who have interacted and let me know their thoughts and feelings about this story and they’ve all been familiar with Lab Rats, Henry Danger, and The Thundermans, so… this chapter in particular has some things that it would be much too much to explain it all, from LR canon and a bit from HD too, and I’m sorry if there are readers unfamiliar with that, but y’all haven’t let me know that you’re here.

Y’all probably didn’t expect another update this soon, but what had happened was the last chapter would have been too long, so I found a point to cut it for that one. Also, a story line that I wanted to touch on this story, but didn’t realize how I would incorporate it until @kiddangers made a post about it either her or on her Instagram, can’t remember, and she sparked the topic and now it is a major story arc in this fic, which might be hella hurtful at some point, but... If you’re in for the ride, you’re in for it, Friends.

@verified-dumbass @just-a-j-reallly I’ve decided not to continue tagging anybody else that hasn’t interacted, out of courtesy and just feeling awkward about tagging people that are nonresponsive to it.

What if I’m the Monster

Conspiracy theories were running wild and fortunately, all of the communities that had reason to think that they might be able to be linked to this scandal quickly took action to try to clear their records and discover who the real guilty party was. The bionic, supers, and non-super communities all began their own investigations as to what might have happened while the collaboration of Dystress, Shoutout, Thunderstrike and Chase Davenport were on the ground, assessing the scene themselves. Of course, Chase was the spokesperson and mission leader. That would put everyone at home at better ease.

“Myself and a team of trusted heroes have been working practically nonstop since the torpedo attack to figure out what took place here. There were some recent developments that I’m not at liberty to speak about, which Davenport Industries had been handling, and one of our facilities was going to be attacked, when fortunately, a superhero stepped in and managed to save it and all surrounding innocents that might have been caught in the crossfire. We have recovered several remains, but they are as of this moment inconclusive. What I can assure the public of is that my current team and the Davenport brand will be working hard to get to the bottom of this tragedy and keep the citizens of Jamaica safe from any further threats…”

He and Shoutout left the press conference and returned directly back to the crash site that Dystress and Thunderstrike were at. Thunderstrike had telepathically tunneled a lot of the water, froze it in pillars, and Dystress used her scanning systems for wreckage. With this tactic, they had found numerous parts of the jet and some torpedo shrapnel, but it wasn’t until Chase returned, with his hypersenses that they found the first possible remains of an assailant… “I don’t know how to say this,” he said.

“With your words, perhaps?” Max offered.

“That’s an android…” He sighed. Max unfroze the pillar, and Chase telepathically collected the android remains to them. The four looked down at it for a while. There was very little human DNA left to him. Some hair and facial components, a few fingers, and everything else was charred and shattered metal. “They’re starting to enlist them against their brethren,” Chase said sadly. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about that happening. Of course they would! Who better to go toe to toe with them than their own kind?”

Max and Charlotte noticed that he was really upset about this. Charlotte beckoned over some Davenport analysts to quietly collect this, so that the three of them could inspect the body later. She also decided that they had been working too hard and would need a break. At the very least, Mika would, so she dismissed her and told her to try to get some rest.

“And, you probably should too. You’ve been out of your chamber for days,” Charlotte observed. Chase folded his arms and watched as the employees took the android away.

“I want to begin studying him, right away.”

“I do too, but we’re only human. We do need to rest.”

“We’re not ONLY human,” Chase argued.

“No, but we still need rest and we’ve earned it. You, especially.”

“Why, him especially?” Max asked. Charlotte just threw him a look. It was so smart of her to have a mask that covers her mouth instead of one that covered her eyes, because those looks were a weapon of their own. “Fine. But, if he’s resting, we all should rest and let the androids keep watch while the Davenport searchers keep collecting samples.”

“Is that agreeable, Chase?” Charlotte asked.

Chase sighed and reluctantly nodded his head. He knew that she wanted him to get some rest and she had a point, afterall. The three of them went to the safehouse and tried to calm their nerves and settle in.

You would’ve thought that they would be so drained that they would immediately all fall to sleep, but all were restless. Max passed by Mika and knocked on the door, “Hey. You gonna get some sleep, or what?” He asked. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him, the expression gesturing to the fact that she was clearly on a call. He waved his fingers at Chapa, on the screen and then pointed at Mika, “Sleep in, if you need to in the morning, but try to at least lay down for the night. You can talk to your girlfriend some other time.”

Mika scoffed and shook her head, “Goodnight, Max.”

Chapa asked, “He thinks we’re girlfriends? Awesome.”

Mika replied, “He said that just to be annoying.

Max smirked to himself as he headed for the shower. Charlotte was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and washing her face and such. She usually did that before getting into the shower, so he said, “I’m goin’ in,” and she nodded. It didn’t bother her, but he liked to at least be clear. He was in the shower, sort of zoned out and thinking while she sprayed her locs with oils and finished up her preshower things. They crossed paths switching up who was in the shower and didn’t even have the energy for some risque joke about it.

Charlotte knew that it had to be just as heavy on their hearts as it was on hers… They freed the androids and now it seemed that at least one or some of them not only didn’t appreciate it, but might make it hard enough that they could be in serious trouble for even attempting it.

When she came out of the shower, Max was still in the mirror, doing his thing. This was the one of the quickest times either of them had ever taken in a bathroom before. He was just staring into the mirror, holding his toothbrush, though. “Hey… You okay?”

He blinked and then looked at her in her robe, holding a jar of body butter. He smiled and nodded. “How can I not be. I’m in the best place in the world - with you.” He came over and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She sighed, “It better be. You and Chase let go of a lot to be here.”

“I can’t speak for him, but a lot is here for me.” He cupped her face and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m gonna make sure Mika’s got everything she needs, then I’m crashing in your room, if that’s okay.”

“I was gonna crash in Mika’s room,” she said. “She has nightmares sometimes after a stressful day and the last few days have been hell for me, so I can only imagine what they’ve been for her.”

“You could very well imagine. You’ve been a hero for a while, now.”

“I forgot how this felt. When something serious and dangerous is staring you in the face and you literally don’t know if you’re about to die. I feel… triggered. I hate that she has triggering memories now, and one of the scariest days in her life has taken place because she’s here for me.”

“Mika is where she wants to be. We all are. We chose you, Char. Come on. Let’s check on the kid and get to bed.”

They peeked into Mika’s room and Chase was in there, moving around. “What are you doing?” Charlotte asked in a whisper.

“She was having a nightmare. I kept hearing her whimpering, so I’m trying to calm her down or something,” he said. He looked tired and irritated, but he was also concerned. Charlotte rubbed his back and took over. She put on some music, sprayed some fragrance, handed Mika her beloved plushie, rubbed some oils on her feet, tucked her in and strummed her scalp. After a moment, she was snoring and the trio left her to it. Charlotte would be back, but she had this grave nagging feeling that she needed to make sure that they got to bed too. She felt like this was her fault, no matter what Max said to try to smooth her over. They had followed her into this and this had become tricky.

“I’m going to try to get us a bigger space when I have time, so that you two don’t have to squeeze into the same room,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

“It’s fine. I put my chamber in your room, so Max can have the spare to himself.”

“Nice try, but I’m crashing in her room. She’s got all the good sleepy time stuff like candles and… stuff and I’m sleeping in there, as well.”

“It’s fine. You two are always welcome to crash in my room. I’ll set the mood for you.” She similarly fixed the room as she had done for Mika, programmed some things into Chase’s chamber and when both her guys were asleep, she ducked out of the room and into a video call with Jasper and Henry.

“Char! Thank goodness! We’ve been trying to reach you for days. I was starting to think that the footage of Dystress on the news was altered and you’d been taken into some underground prisoner chamber!” Jasper worried.

“Nope. Just been taken to depression town. Was hoping you had some feel good stories about the kids or something to help me cheer up.”

Henry nodded, “Say no more. Jasper’s been making all of these musical fan videos of the kids and putting them on our DingDong account.”

“Oooh, I’m gonna check those out.”

“ALSO… We got the uh… shipment…” Henry said and looked more serious now. “They’re in the Dome. Wasn’t sure if they were capable of being at Budding Flowers.”

“They’re not defected. They’re free, and want to work with children. Your charity is one of the most successful ones in the world, currently. Androids are people too.”

Jasper winced, “Only… They aren’t… and… well…”

“Ray is freaking out about the recent news that androids now have autonomy, because if you remember, a Piper from the future came back to tell us that hell on Earth was a road paved by a robot takeover. They created ones that looked like children. Jasper and I just don’t feel comfortable, at the moment letting androids interact with kids that we’ve vowed to protect…”

“Wow. You two think that I’ve kickstarted the end of the world?” She asked, feeling absolutely worse than she had before she called them.

“No. We think that you would do anything to help others and to fix the world and that there are others out there who will take advantage of that, if they get the chance,” Henry offered.

Jasper added, “Schwoz’s friend from Davenport was telling us all about an android rebellion that once almost took place. His ex girlfriend’s models are the same ones that you designed yours after. Come ON, Charlotte…”

“She intended for them to be used for evil. There’s a big difference in our work and the results. Wow… I’m going to go check on Mika. Have a good night.”

“Char…” Henry said.

“Good night, Henry!” She hung up, frustrated and ready to cry. Not because she felt like they were being mean or hard on her. Because, they had a point and she couldn’t believe that her messiah complex had allowed her to miss it beforehand. They didn’t even KNOW about the android remains that were found. Oh God, what if she was the figurative first horseman? Conquering the academic world, looking like a savior to all because of her penchant for improving lives and society and her solutions that help and bring about peace… only to also be the reason that war and bloodshed roll in, and then famine and disease and death… How on Earth she got from messiah complex to I am literally the antichrist, she was unsure, but that was where her mind was whenever she began to doze off.

Mika woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. She was gonna get some warm milk with lavender honey and maybe a patty, if there were any more in there. She found Charlotte, sitting on the patio, asleep with her head on her laptop. She went to get Max, but neither him nor Chase were in their room, so she checked Charlotte’s and there they both were. Chase in his chamber, Max in Charlotte’s bed, covered by pillows, with a sleeping mask on and the smell of candles and incense heavy in the air. She woke him up, “Charlotte fell to sleep outside.”

“What?” He asked, half asleep, but jumping out of bed, anyway. He collected Charlotte. Mika collected her devices and they put her back in her bed. Mika felt left out, and grabbed her blanket and stuffie and came into Charlotte’s room too. With her in Charlotte’s bed, Max made a little fortress on the floor and quickly went back to sleep. Mika was awake for a while, but Charlotte’s arm draped around her and she fell back to sleep.

Charlotte got up and looked around the room. She didn’t remember coming to bed and now, she had Chase in his chamber, Max on the floor with half of her pillows, Mika in her bed and her own head was spinning, because, as she just recalled, she’d cried herself to sleep. Still, she was the first person awake and she started her day without waking any of the others. Eventually, Max and Chase came into the lab, where she was evaluating all of the diagnostics on the remains, listening to music, and talking on the phone, “Well, if I can get those remains sent to me, it will help me to determine how likely the root of that issue is and to ease your mind and maybe others,’ in the process.” Chase looked at the screen and Max went straight to the autoblender. “Okay. Thank you for your cooperation, and tell Douglas to learn to keep his fat mouth shut when he’s in the room with MY people.” She hung up and looked up, “Good morning.”

“What’s that about Douglas?” Max wondered, while Chase breezed through all of the research.

“He was talking to Ray and Schwoz about Giselle Vicker’s plans to use androids for a hostile takeover and now, one of THEEEEEEEE STUPIDEST powerful men has ideas in his head about the free androids and a robot rebellion and… Anyway, Schwoz is gonna send me the remains of a robot from the future so that I can study it.”

Max and Chase both stared at her blankly, then looked at each other. “How long have you been awake, Charlotte?” Chase asked.

“I got enough sleep,” she snapped, shaking her head. “In another, idk 20 years or so, maybe less… there is supposed to be a robot takeover inspired by the Terminator movies. Thanks to Douglas having a conversation with Ray, he now thinks that I’ve somehow set things in motion for that to occur.”

“Well… If you have, it’s done now. Besides, the fact that you have a robot from the future to work on is all the proof you need that it was gonna happen anyway,” Max said, making a smoothie. “I wanna see the robot, though. Let me in on that.”

“You and I need to keep searching for remains,” Chase reminded him.

“That’s not gonna take us the rest of our lives. By the way,” Max said to Charlotte as he poured the smoothie, “Told Mika to sleep in. Marx arrived today, so you can get him to do anything that she was gonna do.”

“Who arrived?” Chase wondered, because he was supposed to approve anybody that anyone was trying to bring into the loop and he hadn’t spoken with Max about anybody.

“His personal android assistant,” a male voice said from the doorway and Chase gasped and prepared himself to attack.

Max rushed to jump in front of Chase and said, “Sorry, sorry, sorry… It was supposed to be hilarious, but then things took a turn and I didn’t get a chance to explain to you. This is my personal android assistant, Marx. I made him in the Marcus model form to fuck with you, but I promise, he’s of no actual ties to your Marcus.”

“That you know of,” Charlotte said. “I tried to talk him and Douglas OUT of this.”

“Douglas missed his son’s face and had some regrets and I wanted a personal android assistant. I thought it would be quite humorous to have him walk up to you one day, but fate had other plans,” Max said.

Chase was staring at the android. It looked JUST like Marcus. Why would Douglas allow this and not tell him? What if Leo had seen this thing? Marx was staring back at Chase, but he had a polite semi smile on his face. “Keep it away from me,” Chase said.

“Marx uses he/him/his pronouns,” Max said and patted Marx on the shoulder. “They/them/theirs, at the very least.”

Chase smiled tightly, “Keep him away from me, and I MEAN that, Max Thunderman!” He stormed out of the lab and Charlotte shook her head. “I asked you to give Marx a different face.”

“I didn’t have time!”

Marx said, “If it pleases you, I could work on some programming to change my face, however, I don’t prefer to do so.”

“Naw, keep your face. Just… stay away from the little guy.”

“From Mr. Chase Davenport. Got it.”

Chase was livid. How could that POSSIBLY be seen as a joke? If he knew about Marcus, he HAD to know about all of the pain and terror he caused the family! That only made him feel a resurgence of hostility towards Douglas. Sure, they were on pleasant terms, but some part of him would always hold on to, at least a little bit, the things that he had been willing to do to his own. Really, he was the reason that Marcus was so terrible, then he just left him, for Giselle Vickers to find and… Chase was getting extremely furious thinking about this. Marcus had been one of the first major betrayals done to him. He thought they were friends, and not only were they actually enemies, but that was his brother who his father had turned against him and he hated that Max Thunderman would casually try to prank him by showing him such a face.

After a while, Max joined him, silently at first, but they both felt the tension there. They were silently working. A few times, a question came up in one of their minds, but neither of them wanted to break the silence, because it was uncertain whether it would relieve the tension. Finally, Max had to break. “It was messed up of me to make a Marcus model android with the intention to shake you up. I knew a little bit about the situation and not whatever it was that your memory tapped into back there. And, I really didn’t know you at the time, either. I didn’t think about how it would affect you like this and I certainly didn’t think you and me would be on the terms we are on right now. So, I hate that I took a joke so far, but it was all me. Douglas really just liked the feeling of seeing his son’s face again. And Charlotte, of course told me the entire time that it would be harmful. I just go too far sometimes.”

Chase was breathing heavy the entire time. Waiting on Max to actually apologize, not just list what happened. But, then again, why would he? He was obviously the type to get pleasure out of people’s pain and not even care about their personal trauma at the expense of a stupid laugh. He was much too smart to just “not realize it’d be that harmful,” so Chase wasn’t eager to listen to him and definitely not going to trust him.

“I guess the perks of being raised in a picture perfect family don’t include having some respect for others who weren’t so privileged,” Chase said. And that was all he felt like he needed to. To dive deeper, he’d dig deeper into his own problems, and he still had work to do.

“My family wasn’t perfect, but I wouldn’t have wanted somebody to make fun of our problems either. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m sorry…” Max said, and it really sounded genuine. Chase almost let his guard down. But, he knew that he’d let his guard down with Marcus… With Sebastian… He’d been let down basically any time he ever let his guard down and Charlotte was the one exception to that thus far. He was fine with that fact. “Apology accepted,” he lied, and didn’t want to speak of it again.

Max felt horrible. Chase looked like an angry little sad puppy. Like… Seeing Marcus’ face REALLY did something to him. There wasn’t a lot of information, so he only knew the highlights that had been shared with him from Douglas, and it honestly sounded like, from what he’d been given, that Marcus kinda got the shit end of the stick. Max was starting to see that Chase probably got those types of ends more than his persona of perfection revealed. “If anybody ever tried to do something bad to you, I’m gonna have your back. I’m shitty sometimes. I do mean stuff. I don’t always prove to be the best sort of human, but… You’re a good person, despite how annoying you can be and I’m still probably gonna let you down and give you shit, but… I honestly do have your back,” Max said.

Chase sighed, “My back is fine. Can we please just finish this up?” Max got back to work, but he heard Chase mumble, “I’m not gonna be fooled again.”

All three of them were looking at what they knew to be EVERYTHING that could possibly have been left behind, while the other agencies went through the waters and the islands to double and triple check. Androids were surveilling them, to ensure that nobody planted anything, though Chase at this point trusted the androids about as much as he’d trusted the bionic army.

Max rarely trusted anybody, but he was trying not to waiver in his faith in Charlotte.

Charlotte was simply defeated and trying to think. “If I have to spend the rest of my life preventing it, I will.” She looked at a chip that was more advanced than her work, but definitely carried her signature and held her emblem. The robots from the future… The ones that would revolt and enslave humanity? They were connected to her work. She threw the chip across the lab in frustration and stormed out.

Max and Chase waited. They looked at each other and Max wondered, “What do you think?”

“I think that it’s the androids. I think that they have autonomy and that humanity won’t allow harmony and that they will rise up against them after they’ve gotten tired of being oppressed. What I will never believe is that Charlotte is responsible. She wanted to do right for someone. It wouldn’t be her fault that they betray her.” He fumed and groaned, “Androids never should have been created.”

Max scoffed, “We could say the same thing about bionics! And how do we know that it isn’t something that a human tried to do? They always try to harm anybody different, especially if they read as more powerful. It could be one of the thousands of geniuses we’ve sought out over the past few weeks, or one of the… of her trusted employees…” Max tugged his hair a little and said, “Whoever it is… We’ve got to stop them. This can’t be the legacy forged for Charlotte’s good deeds.”

“I agree with that,” Chase said, and he meant it. He summoned the chip to himself and said, “I’m going to use every skill that I have to try to find a link to someone or something that answers these questions. But first, we’ve gotta make sure our woman is okay.” He set it down and Max nodded his head. They found Charlotte near the Man Copter, hugging Mika and sending her away, for her own safety. Mika was crying and begging her not to do this, but Charlotte was definitely in a mode right now. There was no way she could let whatever was happening tarnish this bright young girl that she loved and cared so much for.

“I won’t leave you out. I’m sharing everything with you. I just want you out of range until we figure out who tried to attack the place, okay?”

“Okay,” Mika said, ugly crying and nodding. She added, “But as soon as it’s safe, I come back, right?”

“At the very instant!” Charlotte told her.

“Okay.” She waved at Max and Chase, who she saw watching, then strapped herself in.

“She’s going to one of my safehouses with the twins and their nanny, and will be working remotely. She felt like I was punishing her for this.” Charlotte shook her head. “Listen… I need some physical gratification now. I’m sorry if that seems toxic or foolish, especially considering how things are going at the moment, but I have to have release. I have to feel something primal and satisfactory. So… I’m going to head to Dystopia for a little bit, but I’ll keep contact with you.”

“Dystopia? What’s in Dystopia that will give you what you need that you can’t have here?” Chase wondered.

“Her boyfriends,” Max said, sadly.

Charlotte wiped her face, “I just… Need to connect and I need it ASAP. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. We understand,” Max said. She could tell that he was furious, despite his words, but everyone knew that Henry and Jasper were where her home is and she did love Max and Chase, but they didn’t know how to handle everything she was currently experiencing. Plus, she owed the Defenders an apology, for questioning her, when it turned out that despite the fact that the idea came from a sensitive place, the worries were valid.

“We’ll come too,” Chase said. “We’ll stay out of the way, but I don’t think that the three of us should have that much distance between us right now. We need to stick together.”

“I agree,” Max said.

“Yeah. Of course, if you two still are in it with me.”

“Charlotte, you may not realize this yet, but… Max and I are yours, too.” Chase said. He had blurted it out, and didn’t want to follow it up, but he meant it, and fortunately, Max didn’t argue with him. “So, to Dystopia, I guess.”

“I’ll show you around while they’re having their reunion. You only ever got to visit during crises, right?” Max said, relaxing a little as he turned to Chase, feeling closer to him right now than Charlotte, after this no matter how unintentional, but all too familiar form of rejection from her.

“Yeah.”

“I have some roots in Dystopia. We’ll have a Max’s World Day Out, yeah?” Chase didn’t want to do that at all, but he shrugged his shoulders in surrender, anyway. “To Dystopia,” Max said and wrapped an arm around Chase’s shoulder, walking him away from Charlotte. She gave them a smile, and for a moment, felt like maybe she didn’t need to visit Dystopia and see the guys… But then again, that little moment of complete comfort elsewhere? Well… She’d at least owe it to Henry and Jasper to let them know that maybe her heart had moved on...

#Henry Danger #Lab Rats #The Thundermans #Chasing Thunderbolts Fic #League of Extraordinary Geniuses #LOEG Update #Nesha Fics #Multiverse Fics

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rennarita · 5 months

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#njpw #effie's gifs #el phantasmo #world tag league press conference

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buttdawg · 4 years

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Summer Struggle

I’ve been watching these NJPW shows, and the main thing I notice is how similar all the cards have been. I had to look at the 7/26 and 7/27 lineups side-by-side to convince myself that they weren’t exactly the same. The main difference is that some of the multi-man tag matches use different stable-mates from one to the next. Gabriel Kidd teams up with two different CHAOS boys, but his opponents always seem to be Makabe, Rysuke, and Kojima. And so on.

I’m trying to get a handle on how they build up programs in NJPW, and you’d think that I would have figured it out by now after watching it for a year, but not really. I lost interest between the G1 and the World Tag League last year, and then the pandemic hit, so mostly I just know that they use tournaments to work out challengers to major belts.

For this Summer Struggle thing, I’m not even sure what they’re building to exactly, but this is what it looks like to me.

1) Gabriel Kidd vs. Togi Makabe. I think the idea is that the Young Lions are supposed to just do multi-man tag matches and lose all the time, but there seems to be a real rivalry developing between Kidd and Makabe, implying a singles match to blow it off. Is that a thing that happens with Young Lions? If it’s not, then maybe it should be.

2) Yuji Nagata vs. Minoru Suzuki. This one seems pretty obvious, since Suzuki outright demanded a singles match with Nagata. Yuji beat him in the New Japan Cup, and Suzuki’s been butthurt about it ever since.

3) Master Wato and Tenzan vs. ???? Okay, here’s what I can’t figure out. So they keep doing these 8-man tags with Golden Ace, Wato, and Tenzan vs. Dangerous Tekkers, Kanemaru, and whoever else from Suzuki-gun is free that day.

On paper, I get it. The Ace/Tekkers feud is still going on. Golden Ace wants a rematch for the tag titles, except they really don’t have the standing to get one, because they lost so decisively at Dominion. Wato’s got a grudge with Kanemaru, and Tenzan has taken Wato under his wing.

But I don’t see where this could be going. I expected Golden Ace to take on other tag teams to build up a winning streak that would put them in line for another title shot, but so far all they do is keep fighting the Tekkers in these 8-man tag matches. I guess that’s one way to do it, just keep wrestling the champs in non-title matches until Ibushi or Tanahashi pins ZSJ or Taichi. Except that hasn’t happened yet.

Or, maybe this is a way for swap rivalries. Maybe Wato pins Taichi during one of these things, and he and Tenzan go on to get the title shot against Dangerous Tekkers.

Or, maybe that’s not what’s going on here, and the real story is that Wato and Tenzan will face off in a mentor/student kind of thing. Or maybe they just face Kanemaru with a partner of his choosing.

I just know these 8-man’s don’t actually help me understand what to expect. I don’t believe Golden Ace or TenWato are credible threats to the tag titles, and I’m pretty sure Wato already beat Kanemaru in a singles match, so what does that leave?

4) Kazuchika Okada vs. ????

All they’ve done with this guy is have him beat up Gedo and Tokyo Pimps over and over. Okada teased a big “idea” he had, one that NJPW approved and will announce at a press conference tomorrow. I don’t know what that could be, but this is my guess: He talked them into doing a triple-threat match for the IWGP World and IC titles.

I say this because it looks like Naito has challenged EVIL to a rematch, which sounds pretty dull, since they just fought like two weeks ago, and EVIL doesn’t seem to have any other challengers on the horizon, so maybe it’s time to do some unusual match stipulations.

And Okada isn’t interested in being a double-champion, so maybe they’re doing a triple threat match with the stipulation they used at WrestleMania 16, where both titles are on the line, but the winner of the first fall gets the IC title, and the winner of the second fall gets the World title. So it’s a way for Okada to separate the titles again, and it gives Naito a shot at redemption without just doing the same match over again. And it’s a way for EVIL to clobber both guys again, only this time it’ll be in the same match.

5) Hiromu Takahashi vs. Bone Soldier #2.

Fuck both of these guys.

6) EVIL vs. It doesn’t matter because he’ll just have Dick Togo strangle everyone to death during the match. Just give YOSHI-HASHI this spot, it’s no worse than him jobbing at the bottom of the card.

#njpw #seriously what is the appeal to hiromu takahashi now?#2018: he's got the cat dolls #2019: he's in the hospital #2020: hiromu wants to show you what the MOST ANNOYING SOUND IN THE WORLD IS

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alfredohaylee-blog · 4 years

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1dffexchange · 5 years

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Off the Grid

To: Morgan @redcalvinsharry

From: Hannah @primetimewritings

Summary: An OU where full time skincare blogger and facialist, Olivia James, finds herself in the middle of a Vogue party and runs into childhood friend, Liam Payne. The two rekindle their friendship that was P.O.D (Pre-One Direction) but their friendship is anything but easy. With her stubborn and independent nature, Olivia fails to see the best things in front of her...which includes Liam. A story about skincare, reconnecting, and discovering true feelings.

Author’s Note: Morgan, please enjoy! This was quite self indulgent for me but I thoroughly enjoyed writing it!

For a Tuesday morning, Oxford Street was eerily quiet. Pedestrians normally streamed out of Oxford Circus Station, pushing and shoving to get to their destinations. But that morning, Olivia James ascended the stairs out onto Oxford Street with Topshop appearing in front of her and few shoppers in sight. It was early enough still that people hadn’t made it out yet. Olivia only noticed when she realized she didn’t have to keep checking herself on the sidewalks out of paranoia that she was going to walk into someone.

She had her sights on Selfridges in the distance. The giant iconic department store stood like a commanding and inviting presence on the block. It was where Olivia got her start into skincare and where she loved to return to any chance she got. Selfridges demanded attention sheerly because of its grandiose exterior and the even more inviting temptation of every designer under the sun and levels of shopping inside.

Olivia paused at the curb, checking for oncoming cars before footing it across in her Chelsea boots. Although she loved to browse and wander down in the food hall in the bottom of Selfridges, she had to pop into the Beauty Hall first. She was helping out at the Kiehl’s counter that day where her best friend and flatmate, Frannie, worked. Olivia lended her expertise to skincare brands and stores across London because it was what she did.

She fell into the blogging world in Uni for an assignment set by her professor to start a blog and maintain it for a month. The month passed quickly, Olivia aced the assignment, and kept going with her blog. In the early days, she wrote about whatever she wanted. Mostly about what she bought and her thoughts on skincare and makeup. She spent too many days watching girls go out to the pub wearing five pounds of makeup only to watch it flake and rub off by the end of the night. Olivia eventually figured out it was due to lack of moisturizer which turned into her harping on Frannie to take her makeup off after a night out at the pub.

Like most bloggers shared on various platforms, Olivia never planned to blog full time. Somehow she got picked up by a small PR agency that held its ground with representing bloggers and swinging loads of free products for their clients. Along with blogging, she was a qualified aesthetician. She loved lending a hand to various spas and popping into skincare offices to give facials to their clients. She felt some weird high and passion when it came to massaging moisturizer into someone’s face. Even Frannie didn’t get it but damn if she didn’t love when Olivia would give her an at home facial.

Olivia breezed through the giant doors, smiling as she walked through the handbag department. Some of the employees gave her a friendly wave as she passed. Helping out in stores was like working in retail again but she got to avoid all of the bullshit that usually came with a retail job. Frannie made sure that she didn’t get too far away from her retail roots though by sharing all the crap she had to put up with at the Kiehl’s counter. Olivia would gladly humble Frannie’s moans by pointing out that it was thanks to Olivia that Frannie even had a job. She usually went mum after that.

She spotted Frannie cleaning out some dirt from under her fingernails while leaning over a counter with a Jo Malone rep chatting her up. Frannie laughed and rolled her eyes at whatever the bloke said, but her eyes were glassy. She was completely checked out and it made Olivia snort.

Frannie barely noticed Olivia walk up even though her boots made hell of alot of noise on the tile floor.

Olivia rolled her eyes, pulling her scarf off and stuffing it in her bag. She started to take in the products on the counter too, noting what was new and what had gone away.

At the sound of movement, her flatmate spun around, eyebrows raised at the sound.

“Oh, just you,” Frannie remarked, grinning cheekily.

“Oi, that’s a fine way to greet me.” Olivia hugged Frannie, pressing a cheek quickly to hers. “You seemed busy.”

Frannie rolled her eyes, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “Please, I just like to flirt. He’ll give me all the samples I could ever want if I just give him a bit of attention.”

Olivia shook her head, sorting through what the apothecary brand had on offer for the day. “Right, chat me up. Tell me what’s going on.”

She knew she needed to go ahead and get the work-y bits out of the way before she and Frannie delved into their usual string of gossip and utter nonsense that they usually fell into when they were together. Thankfully the Beauty Hall stayed quiet enough that Frannie could run through the newest products with Olivia without interruption. Even though they were there for customers, nothing was worse than being interrupted by a customer. That loss of concentration and emergence of irritation at the mere phrase of, “are you busy?” made Olivia’s skin crawl to the day.

After Olivia was chatted in, they ended up tag teaming some customers from Italy who spent around 300 pounds.

Grinning after her sale, Frannie rested her bony elbows on the counter. “Okay, so, what’ve you got going on tonight, Liv?”

Olivia was Olivia to her bosses, fellow bloggers, and her followers on Instagram but to Frannie, she was Liv, long time best friend from Uni and reliable flatmate who always hung her towel up after she used it.

Olivia blew a stray piece of hair out of her face from where she messed with it. “Well, I was gonna hang out here until early afternoon cos then I’ve got some conference calls I have to sit in on. Then I’ve got this party with Vogue tonight.”

Frannie twitched, making her stand up straight and her eyebrows flew into her hair. “Vogue?! What the bloody hell? You wait to tell me this!”

Liv jumped, surprised by her outburst. Frannie always thought the events Olivia went to were way cooler than they really were. Olivia was unbothered by the lavish party set up with guests schmoozing each other over what were normally overpriced cocktails. Olivia liked brand events the most out of her job, because they were usually more personal and intimate.

“Soz, I thought I had told you ‘cos I had a plus one.”

Frannie frowned, a fine line appeared between her perfectly brushed and filled in eyebrows. “No you didn’t. Fuck and I have a date with whatshisname from Bumble.”

Olivia glanced from her mobile screen that had just lit up to her best friend. “So? Cancel.”

“Nah, can’t. He’s fit as hell and said he’d take me to the Ivy for dinner. His dad’s got some sort of connection,” Frannie winked.

Olivia rolled her eyes, unamused. While Frannie was a known serial dater, swiping faster than Olivia could like a post on Instagram, Liv wasn’t bothered with the dating world. She’d had a serious boyfriend in high school but when he moved to Leeds for med school, Olivia broke up with him. She dated some after that but her work kept her busy enough and she got enough free dinners from brand events in the city.

Liv wasn’t jazzed about the event with Vogue anyways. She hadn’t a clue of who was going but she imagined it might be people who were way out of her league with actual talents like acting and singing. Frannie told her to stop being silly and make sure she set her makeup really well so she didn’t look like a goblin in the tabloids.

“Wow, cheers Fran,” Olivia replied.

Frannie smirked, wagging a finger in Olivia’s face. “Can’t be looking like Casper the Ghost with that flashback face, honey.”

After a brief two hours at home where Olivia blitzed her room before it dissolved into utter disaster, she headed back into central London but thankfully not on the tube. Instead, a black Mercedes came to pick her up. She felt out of her element in the back of the car that probably cost several years of her rent, but at least she looked good. The October weather was starting to turn with a chill in the air, particularly at night. Playing it safe, Olivia chose a pair of light wash high waisted boy jeans and a black lace silk camisole she had tucked into her trousers. She got away with layering her leather jacket over it since it was warmer than it seemed.

Olivia knew of a couple bloggers going to the Vogue event that night which made her feel less of a total loser. Experience taught her that explaining her job and what she did was tricky for people to understand usually. They always gave her a nod like they got it but walked away scratching their heads. Olivia even wondered sometimes how what she did was actual work. She got to talk about skincare with strangers all day. She loved doing that, so was it really work?

This thought constantly followed her but thankfully she couldn’t let it fester any longer since the car had pulled up to the hotel where the party was taking place. She could already tell from the hotel exterior that Vogue had pulled out all the stops to celebrate the new editor in chief and the new era he would bring in. Not only was it a celebration for the editor but it was also to kick off award season in the fashion world. Olivia really didn’t get how fashion awards had a whole season or let alone how many fashion award shows existed but she appreciated the invites when they came in.

Following the trails of gold balloons lining the walkway into the hotel and through the lobby, Olivia trailed behind some other party guests ahead of her, looking exquisitely posh and out of her league. Olivia giggled to herself out of disbelief that she’d landed here.

If the lobby was decked out, it was nothing compared to the top floor where a giant hall had been transformed for all of Vogue and its party guests. There was an underlying yet painfully obvious theme of gold throughout the room. Gold balloons continued through the room, but delicately dispersed so one would forget they existed until they turned a corner and found balloons strung along the walls, floating on the ceiling, and tied up around the room. The bartenders and servers wore tasteful black outfits and gold ties. Olivia even noticed the women working the party had gold highlighter dusted along their cheekbones and temples.

The hall as jammed with people of all kinds. Olivia held her breath when Alexa Chung passed by, wearing an outfit similar to Liv’s but she was looked loads better in hers. Women were tastefully dressed in clothes that were carefully put together for the right Instagram. One would think they just had incredible taste but Olivia knew it was all for the ‘gram.

High off her Alexa Chung sighting, Olivia sought out the bar and soon ran into a fellow fashion blogger she first met at a Jo Malone event years ago. They latched onto one another, giggling behind their cocktails over how unbelievably silly it was that they were there. Drinks in hand, Olivia joined a few more people who were experts at socializing. Unlike most parties that felt forced, Olivia felt the energy in the room inviting. She was moving from conversation to conversation, barely noticing when her drink was empty and a flute of champagne ended up in her hand. It was a bubbly gold of course.

A couple hours later, Olivia’s glass was empty and she wasn’t sure how many champagnes had been rotated through her hand. Excusing herself from a conversation between the head of the British Fashion Council and Made in Chelsea’s Frankie Gaff, Olivia snuck into the crowd in search of a glass of water. She accidentally stepped on someone’s toes at some point and when she turned back to apologize, the person was gone.

Olivia shrugged, turned around, and starred ahead. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was seeing things.

Liam Payne stood three feet away from her, drink in hand and eyebrows raised as he said something to some tall man that resembled a football player from Man United.

Impossible. In what world would he be here? Olivia wondered, still rooted to the spot. She didn’t even feel someone knock her in the shoulder, sloping part of their drink on her boot.

In her next breath, Liam looked her way. He did a double take like Olivia had, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief similar to Liv’s.

“Shit,” Olivia cursed.

She didn’t give him a chance to get another look because she took off in a span of two seconds. Easier said than done, she wove her way through, by passing niceties and just shoving her way out. She breathed a sigh of relief once she reached one of the golden bars set up near a wall.

The bartender in his gold tie eyed her as she popped out between three business suit clad men. “Can I get you something?”

A water. Get a glass of water. “Champagne, please.”

“Olivia? Olivia James, is that you?”

With a voice like honey with a touch of poshness, Olivia could still hear the Wolverhampton accent in his tone. Olivia resisted the urge to smile out of nervousness and looking like an idiot.

Fuck.

“Hi Liam, how are you?” She asked, feeling like an idiot as the words left her mouth. The hell do you know? He’s not even your friend! He’s mister big singer now or whatever!

Liam laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners like they always did. Somewhere in her chest, she felt a vibration. She saw the sixteen year old boy she knew before staring back at her but also a fit, rugged man with hair perfectly messed up and jeans that hugged him in all the right places.

He moved in quickly for a hug, embracing her like an old friend. Technically, they were old friends from the same circle in school. Olivia noticed how good he smelled too. Something significantly woody and a touch of spice. Undoubtedly manly and sophisticated. She tried to place it from all her hours in beauty halls across London.

“Miss, here’s your champagne.” The bartender broke whatever trance she was in, snapping her back to reality.

She blushed, taking the glass carefully so her slightly shaking hand didn’t spill it all over the floor.

“Who’re you here with? Can’t believe I didn’t see you before,” Liam asked, talking quickly and moving closer as some fashion bloggers Olivia didn’t know but recognized shuffled past. She picked up on the glances they threw over their shoulders towards Liam.

“Myself. I was invited,” she said lamely, lifting her glass to her lips.

Liam’s eyebrows went up. “Score Olivia, that’s amazing. What are you doing now?”

Olivia laughed then, suddenly she felt like she was at a high school reunion rather than one of the biggest parties in all of London. “I work in skincare. I manage relationships between brands and stores. I also recently became a licensed esthetician.”

“No shit, that’s amazing. Do you like it?” Liam asked. He kept having to move closer since people kept jostling around them, forcing them to inch nearer.

“Love it. I just sort of,” she shrugged, “fell into it I guess. But that’s how it happens sometimes, isn’t it?”

Liam nodded, sipping on his drink. Raising his hand, Olivia got a close look at the tattoo on his hand, it was so incredibly detailed that she wanted to reach out and examine it in hers. Good call on the champagne, she thought.

They stood rooted to their spots near the bar before someone almost toppled Olivia over into Liam. He suggested they move out of the fray and Olivia found herself removed from the party, perched on a lounger where she could observe the party rather than being caught in the middle of it. Liam sat next to her, his long legs bent towards her so he could hear better over the din of the music.

She and Liam went to school together back before he left for X Factor and never came back. The few friends he had were friends with Olivia’s friends. Olivia remembered Liam wasn’t that social or popular while they were in school but he was always invited to the same things as Olivia. Talking to him made her remember how he said once somewhere that he couldn’t get anyone to come to his sixteenth birthday party. That broke her heart at the time because Olivia remembered the invitation but she’d been on holiday with her family at the time, forcing her to miss it. She couldn’t even remember if she’d given him anything in the end. They weren’t good friends so probably not.

“This is still so crazy I’ve run into you here. I hear things from time to time from my mum, I don’t know if you remember her,” Liam said, pausing to sip his drink. “She might have mentioned once that you’d moved to London but I don’t remember.”

Olivia nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear out of nervousness. “Do you get to talk to your mum often? I’m sure it’s hard to keep up with her. Or, I guess her with you.”

Liam shrugged humbly. “I mean, yes and no. Since I’m always travelling, I’m the one to call her ‘cos I know when I can reach her because she doesn’t always know where I am.” He chuckled at the end of his sentence. “It’s like I’m still a kid and I’ve snuck out and my parents don’t know where I’ve gone. It’s a lot like that.”

“God, that would drive me crazy,” Olivia shook her head.

“Believe me, it drives her nuts. She never knows what country I’m in or where I’ve gone to next.” Liam paused. “To be fair I hardly know myself. But, I want to hear about you. How many years has it been?”

Olivia shrugged, glancing towards the ceiling in thought. “Like, eight? Nine? Dunno, whenever you left to go off and be in the band on X Factor.” She smiled, noticing the way his lips perked automatically into a grin.

He shrugged. “Go on. What made you move to London from Wolverhampton?”

Olivia shrugged again. She told him how she started her blog in uni for a class and kept writing it even after the class was done. Once she graduated with a degree in Communications, she moved to London because Frannie needed a flatmate and Liv had no desire to return home right after uni.

“I moved out a couple months after I got my degree and I haven’t lived there since. Obvs I go home for like, Christmas holidays and stuff but that’s about it. I’m too busy now to go home as much as I’d like.” Olivia loved her mum and dad, her home, and the parks of Wolverhampton but London had her heart and her attention. She loved living in London where everything was just minutes away compared to how rural Wolverhampton could be.

Liam nodded, the soft mood lighting catching his eyes and offsetting the golden tones in his brown eyes. Olivia leaned further into the chaise.

They sat there catching up for a couple more hours while people milled around them. Occasionally someone would come by to say hi to Liam or Olivia (mostly Liam) and they’d exchange an awkward explanation about how they knew each other. Olivia made it awkward out of paranoia of people thinking they were something they weren’t.

At some point, a journalist came by to borrow Liam for a photo op. Claiming they needed photos before everyone who mattered left, Liam squeezed Olivia’s hand, promising to come back as soon as he could.

She watched him go, his tall stature cut through the crowd as he followed the journalist. Sighing to herself, she drained the last bits of her champagne and deposited it on a nearby table. She left the party easily, muttering a few goodbyes to those left that she knew, and slid back into a sleek towncar to take her back to her flat.

A week passed since the party and other than rehashing the whole thing to a very excitable Frannie, Olivia hadn’t thought about Liam again since. She rummaged through the goodie bag she was given when she left, sorted through it to find what she wanted, and gave the rest to Frannie.

Frannie kept asking Olivia if she’d heard from Liam again periodically. Olivia eventually snapped one Thursday night in their flat.

“No, I haven’t heard from him and why would I? He’s probably forgotten he even saw me in the first place,” Olivia retorted with a wave of her hand.

The next morning, Olivia was back on Oxford Street with plans to help out in Liberty’s Beauty Hall for a few hours before treating herself to mooch around in the upper levels of the iconic store. Her mobile buzzed in her bag. An unfamiliar number was on the screen, and like any normal person, Olivia would usually ignore it but since she was so close to Liberty, she worried the caller was someone telling her to cancel or plans had changed.

“Hello, this is Olivia James,” she answered in her best grown up business voice.

“Olivia, it’s Liam,” a voice replied on the other end.

Olivia stopped in her tracks like she had at the party almost two weeks ago. A man grumbled behind her at her sudden stop. Ignoring him, she pieced together a reply.

“Oh my God, what?” She replied rudely, instantly grimacing. “I mean, sorry, who?”

Liam laughed. “It’s Liam Payne. We went to school together? We ran into each other at that party a while back?”

Olivia wanted to slap herself on the forehead for answering. “Hi, ‘course I know who you are. I guess I’m just surprised you have my mobile number.”

“Uh, I may have gotten it from the party. For some reason people want to give me what I ask for. Although my mum says I’m stupid if I buy a life size Jurassic Park dinosaur for my backyard.”

“That would be stupid,” Olivia agreed. Great, insult him why don’t you?! God, kill me now.

“Hmm, guess I should cancel my dino order then from Amazon,” Liam suggested casually.

“Oh God, you’ve already gone and done it, haven’t you?” Olivia asked, moving out of the way of other pedestrians. It was Friday morning and Oxford Street was buzzing.

Liam laughed, sending ripples through Olivia. “No, no that would be stupid. But I’ve ordered stuff drunk off Amazon before. Those were some wild deliveries, let me tell you.”

“Please, spare me. It’ll probably just stress me out,” Olivia said. She hated when her PR boxes and other parcels piled up before she could get a grip on them.

“Why? Have you got some beef with Amazon?”

Olivia laughed. “Definitely not. They’ve come through when I need them most. I can’t stand the disorganization though. There’s too many cardboard boxes at my house right now.”

“Why don’t you get rid of them? Or are you trying to tell me you live in a cardboard box?” Liam joked.

“Yeah, that’s my secret. I’ve built a flat out of cardboard,” she answered with a shake of the head.

“No, that doesn’t make sense, because how does a girl like you get an invite to a party for Vogue. They must have thought you were pretty or something,” Liam wondered, his tone switched from joking to genuine. “You did look really pretty that night. Hope that’s okay I say that.”

Olivia blushed and touched her cheek. “Yeah, that’s, uh, fine. Thanks. I hate to do this, but I’ve got to go. I’m about to walk into work.”

“Oh right, I’m so sorry. I just wanted to say that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I ran into you at the party that night,” Liam explained. His voice shook nervously, like he was carefully thinking over what he wanted to say. “I was just wondering if you’d want to have dinner with me sometime soon?”

Olivia paused, watching the traffic roll down Regent Street. “Yes, love to.”

Going on a date with Liam was a lot harder than Olivia thought it’d be. It wasn’t the date itself, it was making plans for the date. Liam’s calendar was so packed that he was barely in London through the rest of October. When he happened to be back in the city, Olivia had a full day of meetings, popping into whatever SpaceNK called her name, and staying glued to her phone for conference calls.

They finally had their first date two days before Halloween. Olivia dressed carefully in all black but smart in her black skinnies that made her butt look good. Even though she had on her amazing jeans, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Liam. Being with him still felt like they’re were kids in school. But when he looked at her, she knew something was different.

Throughout their date, he was observant and cheeky. He kept Olivia laughing and smiling as they rehashed stories of their childhoods. Olivia was glued to his stories about travelling with One Direction and travelling solo. They covered so many topics that wove themselves around Liam and Olivia, it was impossible to tell where one started and the other ended.

By the end of the night, they’d ended up at a bar Liam liked to go to because it was hidden amongst its competitors with a posh London crowd. Olivia noticed how relaxed he was when they were sat close in a round both, tucked away from bystanders. She realized once she got home that Liam didn't make her nervous like most dates did. Her shoulders usually shook from the anxiousness of a first date and figuring out the right thing to say. With Liam, she was tuned into him with her hand cupping the side of her face.

Their date ended by Liam dropping her at her flat and gave her a quick kiss good night, which left her with more questions than she had woken up with that morning.

October turned into November, leaving the cold weather hanging over London. It’s inhabitants bundled up in their coats, noses tucked behind scarves while they hurried wherever the tube took them. Two weeks passed before Olivia saw Liam again. She was jealous of his trip down to Australia where he was in shorts and t-shirts. Since their date, they talked once a day. The time zones were a bitch, making their conversations even more sporadic on top of all the work they were both swamped with.

However busy they were, Olivia started to getting excited whenever her phone went off with a message from Liam. Even though she was dying to jump up and down, she internalized her excitement and stayed focused on her work. While Liam was singing his way through Australia, Olivia was making appearances, talking skincare, and documenting her skin routines nightly on Instagram. Her Oyster card holder was starting to look worse for wear from how many times she slammed it down on the button.

Performing facials kept her mind off what was going on outside. She zoned in on cleansing her client’s skin, extracting and purifying god knows what toxins out. Olivia got to know her clients in their hour together, something they loved about her. She loved them for letting her tap, massage, and work products into their skin while massaging out any tension she had built up inside.

One afternoon, she’d just finished with a client and had another right behind. Her mobile started buzzing while she cleaned up her products and prepared for her next appointment.

“Hey Frannie, hate to rush you but I’ve got an appointment coming in in about ten minutes.”

“Bollocks, I was hoping you were free,” Frannie replied, the background noise so loud it made Olivia wince.

“Why? What’s up?” Olivia tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, moving on around the room.

“‘S nothing, just wanted to go into The White Company and be talked out of buying five of their Christmas candles. Oh, work gave me the holiday bits they sent out to the bloggers. You’ll die, the whole Calendula range is in here too,” Frannie said, her tone fill with excitement like Christmas had come early.

“Oh my God, if the mask is in there, can I please, please have it? I’ll be your flatmate forever,” Olivia pleaded, chuckling to herself.

“‘Course. But Liv, tell me not to go to The White Company-”

Olivia stopped listening when someone cleared their throat by the door, making her spin around from where she was standing. Liam looked back at her, a small grin on his face.

“Surprise,” he said, his grin growing by the second.

Olivia’s heart pounded, caught somewhere between surprise and confusion. “Frannie, I got to go.” She hung up quickly, cutting off her best friend. “What...what are you doing here?”

“I’m your last appointment, thought you’d be happy to do a friend. I mean, uh, give me a facial,” Liam explained, blushing.

Olivia stifled a giggle behind her hand, her mind still reeling over Liam’s sudden appearance and how she felt about the whole thing. However foggy her brain was, she still knew she had to treat Liam like a client and take care of him like she would anyone else. But this time, she was more gradual and broke out of her calm, monotone-like voice.

As Liam settled into the massage chair, Olivia tugged on her top and ruffled her hair.

Why didn’t I think to wear more eyeliner today?

“So, how was Australia?” Olivia asked, stepping up behind Liam and running her hands over his skin. It was surprisingly soft with minimal texture until she got to his line of scruff. She let him talk while she felt his skin, murmuring when she needed to, assessing his skin along the way.

“Right,” she said a few minutes later once she’d made her decision about what she wanted to use on him. She could smell his cologne on him the minute her fingers touched his face, enveloping her so powerfully she forgot where serums went in a routine. “I’m going to cleanse your face, use this oxygenating facial machine, suck all the guck out of your face, pat in a serum, then moisturizer, and then we’re done.”

“Hold on, you’re going to do what with a what machine?” Liam asked incredulously, trying to sit up but Olivia forced him right back down.

“Pull all the crap out from flying and travelling and God knows what you come in contact with in this city. Now, sit back and let me do this,” she prodded his shoulder again with her fingers. She ignored his wince and dampened his skin, getting right to work.

She found her rhythm, even though Liam’s voice, face, and presence kept getting in her way. He talked and so did she, but when she did, she tripped over her words. Liam’s presence was making her heart race mildly and all he was doing was laying in a chair with her hands on his face.

While she powered on the oxygenating machine, she told Liam about her life for the past two weeks. She couldn’t tell if she was boring him with the details of what she’d done day to day but her focus on the machine made her forget about it.

They moved through the rest of the facial easily, an easy flow ebbed between them. Olivia was particularly proud of how radiant Liam’s skin looked when she was done. She’d pulled so much dirt out of his face that she was thinking about making him get facials monthly.

“So, I want to ask you something,” she stated, taking a seat on the rolling chair near him. Her heart was hammering in her chest but she ignored it.

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you come here today? Of all places after a 20-something hour flight from Australia,” she asked, crossing her legs. The question had been burning in her mind somewhere back during his facial and she still couldn’t figure it out. Why?

The corner of Liam’s mouth twitched, she could tell he was trying to think. “‘Cos I wanted to see you. Heard you were gonna be here today, so I just worked my way in as your last appointment.”

He wanted to see her. He wanted to see her. He could have just Facetimed her at any point but no, he chose to show up and let her run her hands all over his face for an hour and a half. He was either really stupid or just a really nice guy. Olivia hoped it was the last one.

“Well, I’m glad you came. At least you didn’t whine during the oxygenating part. Some people tear up at the pressure, big babies,” she responded with a nod. Slapping her knees, she got off the seat and started to clean up.

“My skin feels amazing. Holy shit, I should have gotten one of these years ago. Thanks OP, you’re the greatest.” He ran his hands over his face, admiring himself in the mirror on the wall.

Olivia snickered when she glanced over her shoulder. She started cleaning up and clearing away the products she used. She had four bottles in her arms when Liam came around the corner and gave her a hug.

“Thanks again, I had fun,” Liam muttered into her hair. She felt his chin rest on the top of her head, her heart was racing against her chest and she wiggled away from Liam, worried he might have felt it too.

“No problem at all. Thanks for letting me run my hands all over your face,” she grinned, looking up at Liam.

“So I’ll see you soon? I should be around for a few weeks before December, let’s do something, yeah?” Liam asked, gathering up his mobile and wallet.

Olivia nodded, already moving on. “Sure.”

She turned back to her products, clearing away the goods as Liam excused himself.

If Olivia thought Liam was going to move on and forget about her, she was wrong. He texted and called once or twice after his facial. Once was to thank her again for what she’d done to his face and the second was to get a list of the products she’d used on his face. Frannie’d been up her ass about locking him down and saying hysterical things like Liam was in love with her.

Olivia started to ignore Liam’s calls and texts, telling herself it was because of how busy she was. When she did reply, it was a half-assed apology about how hard she’d been working lately. Thankfully Liam was a good person who also had a demanding career and completely understood. His understanding was like a knife in Olivia’s heart that followed her around, nagging her with the recurring reminder of what an awful person she was.

She liked Liam. She enjoyed spending time with him. He reminded her of a simpler time, when they were kids and Liam aspired to be a singer and Olivia just wanted to pass her GCSEs one day. She’d become too independent since her last boyfriend. She couldn’t hop around from guy to guy like Frannie seemed to do every week. Olivia had too much pride to just let herself give into a boy and risk losing her independence.

Two weeks before December, Liam was sitting in Olivia’s living room. She’d been busy all day typing up a massive post for Black Friday and in her frenzy, she’d invited Liam over instead of going out for a drink with him. She’d quickly changed out of the joggers she’d had on all day and brushed her hair before Liam showed up. Of course he looked perfect and soft in some way in his jumper and jeans.

Liam followed Olivia through her flat, leaning against her countertop once they reached the kitchen.

“So, I did a massive order from Wagamama ‘cos one I didn’t know what you liked so I just basically ordered half the menu and two someone gifted me a voucher and I couldn't use it by myself. Cool?” She didn’t really care if he disagreed because either way, she was going to eat her weight in Wagamama.

Liam nodded, stretching his arms above his head. “Good with me. I’ve been eating like shit on the road so what’s another night?”

Olivia smirked. She took in Liam’s appearance properly while he looked around her tiny kitchen. Other than his outfit, he looked tired. Olivia could tell travelling had gotten to him by the look of the shadowy purple tones under his eyes and there were a few dry patches on his cheeks. He needed some moisturizer and probably a lot of sleep.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, observing the photos and nicknacks on the fridge.

“Erm, maybe almost a year? Before Frances, my flatmate, and I used to live in this absolute cupboard over a pub for a year. It was awful. We were dead lucky to find this place though ‘cos it just sort of fell into our laps.” Olivia gestured towards the large window that took up a corner of the kitchen. “We even lucked out for a window. I never realized how important natural lighting is until I lived alone.”

Liam laughed, glancing her way and making her heart melt inside her chest. Just one look was all it took for some strange lovey dovey feeling to come alive in her chest. The feeling and thoughts alone made her swallow and push down any of those warm emotions.

“So, where is it all?” Liam asked a few seconds later, glancing around the flat.

Olivia’s eyebrows went up. “Where’s what?”

Liam nodded towards her. “You know...all your...stuff. The skincare. Where do you keep it?”

Olivia’s face relaxed and she let out a breathy laugh. “God, I had no idea what you were talking about. But I keep most of it in my bedroom. Do you really care to see?”

Liam nodded eagerly. “Oh you bet.”

She ended up giving him a tour of the flat on the way. Not that it took long to get to her room down the hall. She pointed out the living room where there was a large sectional sofa, the biggest Olivia and Frannie could fit, and a dining table set up in front of the windows. They had another squishy armchair next to the sofa with a coffee table in front. Along the wall was another piece of furniture that held decorative knick knacks carefully arranged by the girls along with photos of themselves, friends, and family over the years.

Olivia said a prayer for cleaning her room the day before because the state of it would have embarrassed her right out her front door. Her hands shook slightly when Liam followed her into her room, anticipation making her fingertips twitch.

“So, there’s my desk where I sit for hours typing emails and debating how fast I could fall to my death out my window,” she pointed towards a white desk from Ikea that took her three hours to build with zero help from Frannie, who was more of a peanut gallery of mocking. It was carefully arranged and organized down to the tiny plate Olivia found at Anthropologie that held a hand cream, lip balm, another lip balm, a couple hair ties, and a tiny Jo Malone hand & body cream. She had a telly set up against the wall facing her bed with her dresser underneath where she kept t-shirts, pajamas, and other bits she could fold up into drawers.

On either side of her bed were wardrobes that nearly reached the ceiling. They were the selling point of Liv’s room and Frannie practically forced her to take the room because of them. Olivia had to agree that they were an asset when it came to her job.

“And over here….is where I keep everything,” Olivia explained, crossing the room quickly to the wardrobe on the right and throwing open the doors. She chose the wardrobe on the right for easier access for a product if she was typing up a post at her desk. Occasionally she got a wild hair and pulled everything out of the wardrobe, spread it around her room, and organized it all over again.

“Holy….shit....OJ,” Liam breathed, his eyes scanning the shelves full of products. Meticulously organized and arranged, Liv had a place for everything. Liam noticed in the corner of each shelf was some tape with words written on them to let Olivia know what was stored on each of them. There was more organization from bins, trays, boxes, and mini drawer sets for Olivia to keep track of everything.

Liam was speechless. He didn’t have a clue where to look or what he was even seeing. “Olivia, this is wild.”

Her eyebrows went up, a slight frown appeared on her face.

“What I mean is, this is incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so organized and neat.” Liam scratched the back of his head. “I mean, I don’t really have the foggiest about what I’m looking at.”

She laughed, holding her hands behind her back. “I try to keep it all together...or else it gets really out of hand real fast. Let me show you part of it.”

She explained how she kept the wardrobe of skincare organized and the different areas of each shelf. Through her explanation, Liam creeped closer towards her out of instinct to follow her every move. He was mesmerized by her, even when she was talking about some eye cream with Vitamin C. He thought Vitamin C was only in orange juice.

When the doorbell went, they both jumped. Olivia turned her head and found herself inches from Liam’s ear. She sucked in a breath while staring at the back of Liam’s head when he glanced towards the sound of the noise.

“Oh, guess we should get that then,” Liam commented, turning back towards Olivia.

They were almost nose to nose, Olivia’s height made her a couple inches shorter than Liam but close enough to brush his skin. She could see every pore on his cheeks, the softness of his scruff and the fullness of his pink lips. “Yeah, I guess we should,” she agreed, glancing at his mouth. Swiftly, she moved around him and left him standing in front of her wall of skincare.

“Don’t you have a flatmate? Where is she?” Liam asked once they hauled in three giant bags of food from the takeaway guy. They stood side by side, unpacking and surveying what Olivia picked.

“Yeah, she’s out with her flavor of the week,” Olivia said with a snort. She turned away from Liam to pull some plates out of the cabinet.

Turning back, Liam faced her with his hand outstretched. “Did you just say ‘flavor of the week?’” His eyebrows furrowed as he took the plates from her.

Olivia leaned against the counter, palms supporting her. “Yep, she hops from guy to guy typically. Tries them out and if they get too clingy, she ghosts them.”

Frannie was a major serial dater. Olivia knew she always had been but as long as she didn’t try to bring some skivvy guy back to their flat, Liv let her live.

“What about you?” Liam asked pointedly, his back still to her. “Do you hop from guy to guy?”

Olivia paused, observing the way Liam’s t-shirt hung off his back, hugging each muscle like it was made for him. “No, can’t say I care that much.”

Liam turned around, a slight smirk on his lips. “Hm, I see. Why don’t you care?”

She shrugged, waving a hand through the air. “I’ve got better things to do than mess with relationships. A date once in a while is nice but I can’t be bothered with the faff in relationships. Anyways, should we eat?”

They ended up moving all their takeaway containers into the living room, spread out across Olivia’s coffee table like a massive plastic container feast. Olivia and Liam spent ten minutes arguing over what to watch before she whacked him with the remote and ended up putting on Crazy, Stupid, Love. He removed his jumper at some point, Olivia’s flat was awfully cozy compared to the chilly December night outside.

Olivia was torn between wanting to watch the movie and talking to Liam. She cared too much about Ryan Gosling on screen to listen to Liam but once Liam caught her eye she forgot about Ryan completely. There was something about Liam that Olivia kept trying to pin down. She had a feeling it had to do with how confidently he carried himself while still being so down to earth and humble. She noticed the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled and laughed when she shushed him for talking.

“Hey, I’ve been using all that stuff you told me to buy after my facial,” Liam whispered carefully, trying not to get shushed again.

Olivia’s eyebrows went up, intrigue in her eyes. “Yeah?! Do you like it?”

“Absolutely! I don’t always use that cream but I like washing my face. I feel so clean after,” he put his hands on his cheeks. “So fresh.”

Olivia leaned over, abandoning her plate. “Lemme see that skin of yours.”

“‘S all yours,” he replied with a grin.

She leaned over, observing his skin. Only the dialogue on the telly filled the silence but they didn’t notice. Olivia forgot what she was doing and how her hand was on Liam’s thigh so she could steady herself.

“Sorry,” Olivia breathed, lifting her hand and returning it to her lap.

Liam cleared his throat, adjusting himself. “Don’t be. Y’know...you could stay.”

Olivia cocked an eyebrow and her heart thumped in her ears. Liam wanted her to sit by him? Why? What did this mean? Why did she suddenly want to so badly?

“Maybe then I’ll focus on the movie rather than staring at you every two seconds,” Liam admitted, scratching his nose.

Olivia smiled, then she swiped a pillow nearby and hit him with it. “You’re so stupid. But smart too.”

She laid the pillow up against the cushions and moved over towards Liam. He lifted one arm, letting her squeeze in against him. She tried to ignore her heart racing in her chest that seemed to thump in her head too.

“What about you?” Olivia whispered as Steve Carell creeped around his backyard cutting the grass. Olivia kept having an argument in her head between wanting to ask about Liam’s dating life and leaving it alone. Either way she had every right to know. They were friends, right?

“What about me?” Liam replied, his lips close enough to her ear that she could feel the heat of his breath.

“Your dating life. Are you seeing anyone?” She asked, adjusting her position against his chest.

“I was a year or so ago but not anymore. But I’m not seeing anyone, no.” She felt his chest rise and fall beneath her, steady breaths while her heart picked up the pace.

They didn’t say much for the rest of the movie. They continued to watch Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone go back and forth on screen. While the two had obvious chemistry on screen, Olivia was moulding herself into Liam’s body, growing more comfortable by the second. Even though her eyes were getting heavy, she felt utterly relaxed and content against Liam’s torso. She let him wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and her hand rested on his knee. Her eyes started to droop and she barely remembered seeing Steve Carrell and Ryan Gosling yelling on screen.

The next morning it took Olivia a few minutes of waking up and realizing she’d slept in her contacts before she realized that she was squished in the sofa between Liam’s elbow and the sofa cushions. When she came to, she jumped at the sight of Liam asleep on his back, mouth slightly ajar. She watched him sleep for a few seconds before extracting herself out of the sofa equation and practically rolled over the back of the sofa.

Down the hall, she shut herself in the toilet, a million thoughts racing in her head. As she tore off some toilet roll, she wondered Why did Liam stay? Washing her hands she pondered how she was going to get him out. Drying her hands and opening the door, part of her felt like she didn’t want him to leave. She was strangely okay with him being in her presence, her space that she worked so hard to perfect and make into a home for her and Frannie.

Waking him up wasn’t going to be a problem since he was sitting up when Liv walked back into the room. She jumped at the sight, pausing to watch him stretch his muscular tattooed arms over his head and ruffle his hair.

A floorboard creaked when Liv stepped on it and Liam looked around, a sleepy grin on his face. “Morning, soz I fell asleep.”

Liv shrugged, her heart melting at his puppy dog eyes and soft smile. “‘S okay. Dunno where Frannie is, she’s obvo not in her room.”

“Worried what she’d say if she found me?” Liam asked, peering at Olivia through tired eyes. His skin looked soft and plump this early in the morning. The morning light hit his cheekbone in just the right way that most skincare users died for.

“No, I don’t think so,” Liv sat down and shrugged. “She’d probably give me hell for it.”

Liam watched her laugh and run a hand haphazardly through her hair, attempting to look relaxed. He’d been around his sisters enough to know when they were putting on an act.

“Well, I’m starving and I’m guessing you are too because I’m sure I just heard your stomach growl,” Liam pointed out.

Olivia looked around with guilt, but he was right. God, she was starving. It was like she hadn’t ate her weight in Wagamama the night before. Her insides were jumping at the idea of having brunch with Liam which didn’t help the butterflies in her stomach.

“I’ve got the best place around the corner,” she said with a grin.

Twenty minutes later they were sat across from one another in the tiny cafe that served brunch all day, cold pressed juices, and fresh baked pastries. Olivia scratched at her arm, even though it really didn’t itch and glanced around the room to give her something to do. She already knew what she wanted, but she was giving Liam a chance to mull over the menu first.

“Do you know what you’re going to get?” He asked, glancing up at her.

“Pancakes. American style with blueberries.” Her stomach rumbled at the mention.

Liam hummed. “Tempting, I’m going more of the protein way. Eggs, bacon, maybe some toast.”

Olivia’s eyebrows went up. “Protein? Since when are you Mr. Fitness?”

He scoffed, “I work out. I go to the gym regularly.”

“Oh I know, I see your Insta stories,” Olivia mumbled, looking down at her menu nonchalantly. She flicked her gaze up to Liam’s face, surprised to find him with a small cheeky grin on his face.

“Do you follow me? Do you like what I post?” He was openly honest and curious, but the grin on his face showed how pleased he was to know Olivia followed him on Instagram. He was awful at the app himself. He only figured out how to follow people a few months ago.

Olivia shrugged. “Maybe. You’re a little heavy on the selfies but I like them.”

They continued to go back and forth about Instagram. Olivia kept giving him a hard time about what he posted and how he had no clue about how picky people were with their content. He joked that she took it too seriously and how he barely knew how to work the app alone. They placed their orders along the way, hurrying back to their conversation that made them laugh and exchange secret smiles that made them feel like they were the only ones in the restaurant.

The more Olivia explained what she did for work, the more Liam got an idea of how hard she worked. Even though it seemed like she was just on her phone all day, Olivia did way more research and reading of her statistics and numbers than Liam ever realized. He could only relate when it came to the sales behind his singles and all the records he put out with One Direction. He did still didn’t believe how well they did in the five years they were together.

They ate their food, Olivia and her pancakes and Liam with his plate of eggs and bacon. Once they paid the bill, which Liam slid his card into before Olivia could grab her wallet. From there, they started to wonder through the streets of Kensington. The conversation continued steadily, every once in a while Olivia felt an inexplicable wave past through her. It washed over her when Liam looked at her with a smile on his lips. She felt it again when they walked into a shop and he placed his hand on the small of her back as another couple passed by them.

She kept her hands stowed in the pockets of her coat since it was cold for the sunny December day. Olivia was thankful there was no wind today to mess up her hair and it end up in her mouth when she talked. She hated the wind, it always got her hair stuck in her lip gloss or half blind when her hair blew in her face.

They came upon Hyde Park after stopping in a local coffee shop Olivia loved. She was thankful for the heat from her oat milk latte since the wind had kicked up a bit once they hit the park. Liam was smart and dug a beanie out of his coat when they got to the shop. She loved how the ends of his hair stuck out beneath the edge.

“I like your hair long you know,” Olivia confessed, their arms bumping here and there.

“Really? I was worried I needed to shave it again,” Liam said, sipping on his cappuccino. Olivia questioned his coffee choice in the shop at first, making him explain that he didn’t like a lot of espresso in his lattes so then he changed to a cappuccino.

“No! You look good with a full head of hair.” Olivia ducked her head, trying to figure out why her cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden.

Liam smiled, “Thanks.”

Olivia smiled before changing the subject. “You know I’ve always loved parks. That’s something I miss about Wolverhampton. The loveliest parks were right in town, remember?”

He nodded, glancing around the surrounding trees and grassy fields. “Yeah, I used to spend hours there in the summer when I was a kid.”

“I’m glad I live close to Hyde Park. I like to come walk through here sometimes to get ideas for my blog or clear my head if I’ve been looking at a computer screen too long. There’s something about the vastness of a park and how it should seem so intimidating...but it’s more relaxing to know that this belongs to everyone y’know? And it’s something we all use for a different reason. I love that,” Olivia explained. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear that escaped, sighing when they got to one of her favorite parts of the park.

One thing Olivia loved about Hyde Park was how the leaves fell and swirled around the park. They shifted once they fell and moved as people moved through the park day after day. The orange and brown tones of fallen leaves accented the matte black leather of her Chelsea boots, making Olivia feel like a walking aesthetic.

“Do you want a picture for your Instagram?” Liam asked a foot away. He stopped to watch Olivia admire the park, admiring her instead.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “How’d you know that?”

Liam shrugged. “I could just tell. Plus, who doesn’t want a photo surrounded by all this?” He waved his arms, gesturing to the green surroundings and falling leaves.

“Okay, but take a few of me, will you? Make them good.” Olivia said, handing over her iPhone.

Ten minutes later, Liam laughed as Olivia scrolled through the pictures he took. Her faced was screwed up in concentration as she pinched and zoomed in before deleting the ones she didn’t like.

“Are they good? Do I need to take twenty more?” Liam asked dryly.

Liv rolled her eyes, glancing up at him from her mobile. “No, I like them just fine.”

He came towards her, grinning as he looked over her shoulder. She looked picture perfect against the dying leaves on the ground and the grassy field to the side. He nudged shoulders with hers. “I like them too.”

She looked up, surprised to find Liam’s face so close to hers. His eyes met hers, noticing how her eyes had flicks of gold and green against the brown irises. She bit her lip, scanning his face as her heart hammered in her ears.

“We should probably keep moving. It’s getting chilly,” she muttered, turning back to her phone and stepping away from Liam.

Olivia hadn’t talked to Liam in a week since they hung out in the park. The rest of their walk went fine. They started up their conversation again as they moved towards the edge of the park to head back to Olivia’s flat. Liam figured he needed to head home and quit overstaying his welcome. Olivia was grateful since she knew Frannie would probably return at any second and she dreaded explaining why Liam was still at hers at 3 o’clock on a Sunday.

Since then, Liam started texting her almost daily. He took off for a week in the States for some Christmas concerts but he sent her a text here and there to check in. While her schedule was busy too, her only excuse for icing Liam out, she sent half as many texts as Liam. She kept it short and friendly, not letting her emotions get the best of her and type out four messages like she normally did to Frannie.

Frannie found out Liam spent the night the next weekend when she discovered he’d left his jumper stuffed into their sofa. She resembled the Cheshire Cat when Liv chased her around the living room trying to take the jumper from her.

“When will you give him a chance? Liv, he’s obvo crazy about you,” Frannie tried to reason with Olivia but it was obvious that her best friend was seeing blind when it came to her love life. Frannie may have been a hot mess when it came to boys but at least she owned it. Olivia was precious and deserved someone who would treat her right. Frannie also knew Liv wasn’t some dainty flower to be admired, she needed someone to help her realize her own potential and how fuckign amazing she was.

“I-” Olivia opened her mouth out of defense but snapped it shut when her iPhone lit up on the table with Liam’s name on it. “Fuck off.”

Frannie snorted, watching her phone buzz again with Liam’s name. “I hate to say I told you so,” she sang. “Call me when you finally bone!” With that blunt statement, she left and retreated to her room.

A week later, Olivia kept up the same charade much to Frannie’s disapproval. She wrote twice as many blog posts from the comfort of her room or coffee shop in town whenever she had free time. Olivia kept her mind off Liam and how her heart skipped a beat at the thought by focusing on her train and the stop she needed to get off at before she attended another event. She ignored the itch to text Liam about her frustration to find something to wear to the BAFTAs the next night, knowing he would relate to how she felt. She’d caught sight of his latest post on Instagram that morning, liking it quickly before scrolling further down.

By the next night, she’d completely forgotten Liam may be at the awards too. She was too preoccupied with her boobs not popping out of the navy blue floor length dress she’d ordered off ASOS at the last minute from their fancy dress section. The thin spaghetti straps kept threatening to slide off her shoulders if she didn’t stand up straight and her eye started to twitch every time the buckle on her strappy heels rubbed against her skin.

She could have been naked on the red carpet and completely unaware when she saw Liam. He was ten feet away in a black suit that hugged every muscle he worked so diligently for in the gym. She instantly spotted his tattoos on his hands poking out of the coat pockets, sending her heart into overdrive. Blinking, she snapped back to attention of the blokes taking her picture. She blushed, shaking her wavy hair back out and staring back at the camera. Olivia kept glancing over her shoulder in Liam’s direction, as if she had some sort of turrets that made her only look at him. She was grateful when the paps were done taking her picture and she could retreat inside the venue.

Inside the giant hall where the awards were being held, elaborately decorated round tables were scattered across the floor. Glasses of all sizes were arranged on the tabletops along with gold place cards and hefty gift bags in each seat. Guests and honorees were milling about inside, already buzzing from the champagne flutes that were floating through the crowd at the hand of various waiters.

Olivia grabbed a flute as soon as she could, draining in it three gulps and trading it for another. She moved into the middle of the room where she spotted some of her blogger friends, who looked like they’d walked out of a magazine spread. They gushed over Olivia’s dress and even more when they found out where she’d got it. Joking about linking her dress below, she felt considerably more relaxed than she had outside.

She caught sight of Liam once she sat down at her table full of bloggers. He was three tables away with the Editor in Chief of British Vogue, Jourdan Dunn, and Winnie Harlow. He was even more dashing in his suit with a flute of champagne in his hand. Olivia looked away when Liam glanced in her direction. Praying he didn’t see her and try to talk to her, she turned towards one of her friends and started babbling about how hungry she was and if it’d be rude to order Postmates in the middle of the awards.

The awards passed by quickly. Olivia switched from champagne to water once the hor devours arrived. She had started snacking on the Charbonnel chocolates inside her gift bag at one point. She applauded loudly when Winnie Harlow won model of the year, noticing how Liam stood up to clap for her too. She was at a loss for words when Lucy Williams stopped by their table to chat up another blogger sitting across from her. She begged her friend to introduce them at the afterparty.

For the afterparty, the guests relocated to a club down the road that was decorated the same as the awards hall. Olivia once again found herself in search of someone to talk to while sipping on champagne again.

“Hey, did I see you at the awards earlier or did you just come to the afterparty for the champagne?”

Olivia froze, glancing up at Liam slowly. Her heart sped up when her eyes landed on his, the corners wrinkled as he smiled down at her. “I go wherever there’s free champagne.”

“You look amazing OJ,” he said immediately, bypassing the casualties. He was relieved she was here. He wasn’t totally sure he’d seen her at the awards earlier in the same stunning, cleavage-baring gown she had on in front of him.

Olivia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. This is quite a change from jeans and a jumper,” she commented, observing his suit up close. She could see it had velvet lapels that created a bit of contrast against the fine material of his jacket.

He backed up, putting his hands on his hips. “How’d you like it? I’m hoping GQ will get in touch tonight.”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Don’t know about GQ but I know they’ll be a bunch of wankers if you don’t make the best dressed list.” When he lit up, she waved a finger in his face. “Don’t be getting an inflated ego now. You look nice, that’s all.”

Liam shook his shoulders back and forth. “You think I look handsome. Just admit it.”

“I’m getting a champagne, cheers,” she said dismissively, waving him off. Her whole body felt hot and her heart quickened like she’d just sprinted a large field. Sports weren’t her thing but God she felt like she’d just raced Usain Bolt.

“If I find us a bottle, would you step away with me?” Liam asked lowly. He stepped closer, his lips hovering against her hairline.

Olivia stared ahead at nothing in particular, remembering how she turned away in the park. Swallowing her inhibitions, she looked up at him and nodded.

Not five minutes later, Olivia slid her hand into Liam’s and followed him along a hall. He swiped a champagne bottle after slipping a bartender a note. They wandered along a hall that was lined with expensive private lounges that were usually rented out by those only with black Amexs and a want for the most expensive champagne, stopping only when they found one unlocked.

Olivia adjusted herself in her dress and nervously messed with her hair while Liam opened the bottle of champagne. When the cork came out, it came with a mighty ‘pop!’ that sent them into hysterics. The music from the main room muffled the sound but still made them check the door nervously. One wall of their lounge had a large window that looked down into the main room, but with the curtains drawn, all Olivia and Liam could see was the glow of the lights below.

“God, I never imagined myself here,” Olivia remarked as she watched Liam pour her a generous flute.

He poured one for himself, sneaking a glance at her. He’d been in plenty of clubs, attended more parties than he could remember, but being at a party with Olivia was different from any other event he had been to. She watched everything with a wide eyed curiosity that she internalized cooly. He could tell she felt out of her element but she pulled it off spectacularly.

“Y’know, when I had to go to these sort of things when I started out in the band, I hated them. I absolutely felt like I was an outsider. Other than the fact I was like, seventeen or eighteen give a few, it wasn’t my scene,” he explained, resting against the back of a sofa nearby.

“How’d you deal with them? Don’t you like to party?” she asked, coming to rest next to him. The sofa was a short one that was more impractical than anything. It was meant for casual lounging in a club where no one was going to make themselves too comfortable.

Liam sighed. “I used to. In the band it was easy ‘cos I had nothing else to do when I wasn’t working or like, touring, y’know. The lads loved to go out too when we could. But once we went on hiatus, I kinda went to a bad place because I didn’t know what to do with my life next.” His fingers ran along his jawline where scruff was littered in a thick layer. “I just realized in the last year with making music again that I like writing with a clear head and not a hangover the next morning. It’s funny ‘cos people think my music paints me as a party boy or whatever but I’m not like that as much anymore.”

Olivia rested her hand on the back, her fingers grazing Liam’s. “That’s a lot to go through in a short amount of time. I still don’t know how you did all that in like, five years.”

“Yeah, yeah it was mad,” he said with a shake of his head. He said it with a tone of wistfulness, like he was seeing something Olivia couldn’t. She felt that passion and nostalgia sitting next to her, and it pulled her closer to him.

He turned towards her, sensing how she’d closed the distance between the two. He leaned in like they were magnets that were meant to be pulled together. As if he knew what to do next, he dropped his empty glass on the sofa and slid his fingers into her hair, drawing in her. Olivia kissed him, closing the gap and sending fireworks through her head.

She leaned into him, wanting his hands all over her. She loved how his large hands gripped her face and the curve of her waist. The strap of her dress started to slide down when she leaned forward to hold onto him. Liam’s hands were in her hair as he pressed further into her mouth, making it difficult to tell where she began and he ended.

Their kisses grow more intense with a steady rhythm, like they were meant to be doing this all along. Liam was breathing her name in her ear anytime they broke apart, sending her heart racing in her chest.

Suddenly, Olivia’s heart nearly stops. Her stomach dips when she breaks their kiss, breathing hard. Their foreheads touch and Olivia realizes Liam’s breathing nearly as hard as she has.

“God...God Liv you’re amazing...why’d...why’d you stop?” Liam asked, breaking their contact to stare at her. Her hair’s a bit wild from having his hands in it but her lips are dark pink from his kisses.

Olivia blinked, her eyes were starting to grow hot, fogging her vision. “I don’t...I don’t know. I’ve….I’ve got to go,” she said suddenly, straightening up and bunching her dress in her hand. “Liam, I’m sorry.”

She hurried out of the room, ignoring Liam’s calls behind her. Tears started to fall the minute she hit the hallway, making her rush even quicker towards the exit. No one paid the crying girl any mind as she rushed past the party where normal people were getting drunk and loving life. Instead, she walked away from it all and slid into the back of one of the various waiting cars outside. Wiping the back of her hand across her face, she mumbled her address and sat back in the cab and cried.

Liv, I hope you’re alright. Dunno what happened but if you want to talk to me, I’ll be home until New Year’s Eve. Liam xx

Hey, hope you’re alright, just checking in

Saw your blog post today, would love to talk to you before I go away for New Year’s

Happy New Year Olivia, thinking of you x

Olivia was in a state. She’d turned on her out of office reply on her inbox as soon as she finished her last project of the year. She’d queued up the rest of the year’s blog posts and shut herself off from social media. The only thing she was keeping up with was her skincare routine, but even that was suffering.

Frannie grew more concerned by the days leading up to Christmas. Olivia didn’t say much about the after party except that she wanted nothing to do with the gift bag that showed up at their door the next day because she’d left it at the club.

She still wasn’t sure of what had happened to Olivia when they left for Christmas but she figured it had to do with Liam since she’d caught sight of his name popping up on Liv’s phone from time to time. His messages went ignored and unanswered.

Olivia didn’t know what happened either or why she ran away. She played it over and over in her mind when she laid in bed at night, wide awake with some inescapable knot sitting in her stomach. She knew it was her fault, she was at least sure of that. Guilt sat on her shoulders and followed her around when she glimpsed Liam’s unanswered texts in her messages app. She even opened their chat sometimes and typed out a reply or even an apology but then she’d erase it and welcome the pit of emptiness back in her stomach.

Christmas came and went and Olivia returned to London with her head up. She was coming to terms that she fucked up with Liam but accepted things happened for a reason. She’d get past it and cross into the New Year with a new outlook. She’d find that feeling Liam gave her elsewhere, hopefully in the new content she’d dreamed up on the train back to London from Wolverhampton. She and Frannie spent New Year’s together at a house party thrown by a friend of Frannie’s. She shared a kiss with some random bloke at midnight and swallowed down more champagne whenever she wished Liam was the one kissing her when the ball dropped.

One night however, she met her resolve. While cleaning out her closet one evening when Frannie was on her way home from work, Olivia dug out Liam’s forgotten jumper. She swallowed hard, remembering how she’d tossed it in her closet before she’d left for home. Part of her hoped it would have been buried under some PR package and forgotten until she moved out of the flat one day. Clearly fate had something else in mind as she clutched the soft material in her hands, the scent of Liam’s cologne wafting up and stirring up all the feelings Liv had spent days repressing.

Frannie came home thirty minutes later, grumbling about work aloud to the flat, but her arms weighed down with stuff from work. When she didn’t receive Olivia’s usual reassuring response, Frannie peered into the living room and found her best friend staring off into the distance with a Bake Off rerun on Channel 4.

“Liv, you okay?” she asked, stepping cautiously towards her. She noticed she was clutching something dark to her chest. “Liv, talk to me.”

Olivia shook her head, looking down at the jumper in her lap. A single tear rolled down her nose and hit the jumper. “It’s Liam’s. He left his jumper here and I fucked up. I didn’t get it back to him. I ran. I just forgot and I ran away.”

Frannie’s brow furrowed, piecing together whatever sense Olivia was trying to make. “Okay...you forgot to give Liam his jumper...no sweat. I’m sure he’s got loads more cashmere at home.”

Olivia snorted, although it was snottier than normal from her crying. “If only it was that easy.”

“Liv, please, can you tell me what happened between you two? Then maybe I’ll understand why you’re clutching a hundred pound jumper like it’s your lifeline.” Frannie turned down the telly, rubbing Olivia’s back.

Olivia looked at Frances, her eyes were red from crying and her cheeks blotchy. Her hair was twisted up into some sort of bun that resembled a bird’s nest from laying down for so long. She sighed and wiped her nose. “I fucked up Frannie. He was right there and I ran away.” She sniffled. “We ran into each other at the BAFTAs and eventually started talking at the afterparty. God, he was so fit. He invited me to one of those private lounges to talk or whatever,” she wiped her nose again.

“Everything was fine. We started talking about something to do with partying or some rubbish.” Olivia paused, recalling how the soft lighting of the lounge cast a warm glow over Liam’s skin. She was starting to become so proud of how Liam was taking care of his skin over the past couple weeks. “Then, I don’t know, I really wanted to snog him. Like, badly.”

“And did you?” Frannie asked, leaning towards her.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she smiled. “Yes and it was amazing. We were really getting into it and Frannie, my God, his hands. I hadn’t felt like that in ages.” She bit her lip, pausing her story. “But then, a part of me shut down. I didn’t want to be there anymore. I wanted to run away and get away from everything. It hurt me to leave and to know I left Liam high and dry behind me. And I just don’t know what to do now.”

Frannie sighed, patting her best friend’s sweatpant-clad knee. “Sounds like you’re in love. Not to be blunt but my love, you’ve got it. What you’ve found is something everyone searches for in life. That kind of love that pulls you together and you feel that pain when you’re apart.”

Olivia glared at her, tears silently rolling down her face.

“Glare at me all you want, but you know I’m right. I think you scared yourself straight and it made you bolt. I know you’re tough Liv, and independent as hell but you deserve to have someone love you the way Liam probably does. And it’s okay to be scared, this is the unknown for you.” Frannie leaned back against the sofa cushions, smirking victoriously.

“Why are you smirking like that? I’m a mess,” Olivia asked, wiping away under her eyes. She felt better from venting to Frannie but she was annoyed with how smug her best friend looked. She still felt like shit with no idea if she and Liam would ever come back from this.

“Because it’s fun to see you out of your element. Don’t get me wrong, I hate seeing you in this depressed, hollowed out state when I have all this skincare to show you and I don’t think you’ll care. But, you’re going to get through this. I know you.”

Frannie was right. Olivia was strong and independent as hell. She followed her own path and knew what was best for everyone. It was about time she learned what was meant for her. So, that night, after sorting through Frannie’s Kiehl’s haul, she went to sleep restless again. This time, she knew what she needed to do, but first she had to figure it out.

Liam, I’m really sorry for what happened last month. It was awful of me to do, especially to you. I want to explain. Will you meet me by the fountain in Hyde Park? Hopefully you know the one, I’ll be there before the sun goes down. OJ x

She hoped signing her name with the nickname she had back in Wolverhampton softened him up a bit. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited for a reply. She fell back against her bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to ignore her heartbeat in her ears. She wished Frannie was home to distract her and not doing her job.

Olivia continued to stare at the ceiling until her eyelids grew heavy. She started to give in when she stopped convincing herself that her phone was faux-vibrating.

She woke up when the light in her room was starting to turn from blue to brilliant reds, oranges, and purples. She glanced around her room, trying to remember why she was in bed. The disorienting feeling that naps gave her evaporated when her phone vibrated. She sat up bolt right in bed, clutching her phone in front of her.

A text from Liam looked back at her and she tried to steady her thumb before she opened it. He’d texted her three times, but she read the newest one.

Of course I know where to go. I’ll be there

Leaving my house now

Are you coming?

“Fuck!” She swore, launching herself out of bed and pulling on more layers to go outside. She hopped around, straightening her jumper and tugging on some old UGG boots she had stashed for cold winter evenings. She fiddled with her hair, tucking it and retucking it behind her ears before it inevitably came untucked from the mild wind outside.

She barely had her coat on when she hit the sidewalk, taking off towards Hyde Park. It was only a five minute walk but Olivia was worried and fueled with determination to find Liam before it was too late. She scrambled with everything she wanted to say before she found him, but it was all running together as she tried not to get hit by a car at the crosswalk.

The fountain was proper in the park, but not far enough that Olivia couldn’t make it out in the bright sunset setting over the park. Her eyes scanned the people around, trying to assume which one Liam might be.

Out of breath, she reached the outside of the fountain. Her eyes searched frantically for Liam’s familiar form, her heart crashing against her chest out of disappointment and exhaustion.

She was too late. She’d missed her chance to explain. To tell Liam she was in love with him.

“OJ! Olivia!”

Her heart leapt, revived with a familiar warmth that only Liam could make her feel. Spinning around, her eyes landed on him, standing on a nearby pathway.

She took off towards him, her coat flying out behind her. She could tell his eyes were smiling but he kept his mouth neutral. She didn’t care how he looked though, she was just relieved he was here. He wanted to give her a chance. Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what she needed to do to show she was sorry.

Olivia collided with Liam seconds later, throwing her arms around his neck and praying he was as strong as he seemed. Her lips crashed against his, igniting the same fireworks in her head that she felt in the club. She was barely aware of his arms wrapping themselves around her waist and lifting her off the ground. She kissed him harder, pressing her tongue into his mouth. Her hands raked through the back of his hair, her body flush with his.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Liam,” she breathed. He lowered her to the ground, keeping her close to him. The light behind him was giving him an orange glow. “I shouldn’t have run away. I was stupid.”

Liam shook his head, his eyes searching hers. He was always looking for her, trying to figure her out and her next move. “Why did you?” He asked curiously.

Olivia sighed. “I was scared. Scared of accepting what I knew all along.”

Liam frowned, separating them a little. “What was that?”

She swallowed, glancing away before looking him right in the eye. “That I was in love with you. Ever since we ran into each other at that party, I wanted to kiss you but I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But I was scared of letting myself love someone else out of fear I’d fail.”

Her eyes grew hot as the words spilled out, but they were there. She had to accept her confession even if Liam didn’t. She couldn’t read Liam’s mind but she knew how she felt at least.

He sighed, his breath white against the cold air. “I was waiting for you to say that. God, I wanted to sweep you away the minute I found you by the bar. You were one of the only people who cared about me in high school and I still found that same person when we were at that party. Along the way, everything started to change and one morning I knew. Do you know when I knew?”

“Knew what?” Olivia asked, puzzled over his words. What was he talking about? She was only numbly aware that she couldn’t feel her fingers as the sun was going down.

“That I was in love with you too. That morning I woke up on your sofa and you were curled up around me like you belonged there. I realized before you left me that I wanted to wake up like that every morning.” He paused. “I love you, Olivia. I’ve waited to hear those words from you too.”

She pulled him back to her, letting his fingers slid up under her jumper. “I mean every word. I love you Liam, I always have.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, barely brushing them with hers. They shared a bubble of warmth as they made out in the park, the light fading fast behind them.

“Did you know you’re wearing my jumper? I was wondering where this went,” Liam noted, holding the material between his index and thumb.

Olivia looked down, realizing happily that the jumper she snatched in her room was the same one she’d cried into the night before. “You left it at my house...I guess I’ve been keeping it safe for you.”

Liam shook his head, ducking down to kiss her again. “It’s yours. I’m all yours.”

Olivia grinned, tipping her head back once more to kiss him. “Good, that’s all I’ve wanted.”

#1dff #exchanges

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 1 year

Text

Justice League PR Rep Amanda Waller

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/W0T1AY7

by The_Dawn_Knight

Now that everyone knows the secret identities of the World's Greatest Heroes, it is necessary that someone shape the public perception of these heroes and their (no longer) secret identities.

Amanda Waller is hired by the government to do just that. But she has her work cut out for her when public opinion polls don't show our favorite billionaire playbat in the best light. So without consulting him first, she sets up a press conference to announce that he has adopted three boys to improve his public image.

Queue a series of unfortunate, hilarious and traumatic events.

Since Bruce doesn't really like nor know what to do with children Waller rents a penthouse for them and puts herself in charge of their care. Since their whole reason for being here is basically a PR stunt they really only see Bruce when he needs to make a public appearance with one of his new children. She thinks she has everything under control with these brats until it's revealed that Bruce actually has a biological bastard child with a porn star named Talia, and this child's best friend turns out to be a super big problem she thought she took care of years ago...

A PR rep's worst nightmare...

Words: 1106, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Superman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman: The Animated Series, Superman/Batman (Comics), Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman: The Animated Series

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

Relationships: Clark Kent/Lois Lane

Additional Tags: Batfamily Shenanigans (DCU), Batfamily & Superfamily (DCU), Superfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Protective Bruce Wayne, Forced Abortion, Attempted Abortion

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/W0T1AY7

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the cape crusader #gotham #dc universe #ao3 #ao3feed

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wrestlingisfake · 5 years

Text

All Out preview

Chris Jericho vs. Hangman Page - This match is to determine the first AEW men’s world champion. Page qualified for this match by winning a 21-man battle royale at Double or Nothing on May 25; Jericho qualified by defeating Kenny Omega later in the same show. Jericho has held six world heavyweight titles; this would be his first outside of WWE. Page has never held a singles championship of any kind in a major-league promotion, although he’s been talking about being the first to hold this title since the original AEW press conference in January.

AEW is trying to position this as a true main event, mainly on the strength of the title and Jericho, even though the ladder match and (at one point) Omega-Moxley were clearly bigger draws. I expect that this match will go on last just to establish the primacy of the world championship. That’s a lot of pressure on Page, who was barely even a midcarder 18 months ago. Of all the talent getting pushes to elevate them to the Kenny Omega’s star power, he’s the one with a rocket strapped to his back. There’s a sense that this match is his Rocky moment, and he’s carried that idea well in interviews.

Jericho has handled the story convincingly, pushing the notion that Page is ready for this level of competition, while still asserting that he’s the favorite going into the match. Page is great...but he won’t be good enough on this particular night. Jericho has also stressed that he needs to beat Page, because a loss would set up talk about him passing the torch in the twilight of his career, and he’s not willing to be treated like a used-to-be. It’s an interesting approach for the 48-year-old Jericho, because the tipping point between “veteran superstar” and “old timer doing jobs on the way to retirement” is precarious. It makes sense that he would fight tooth-and-nail to keep from going over that tipping point, and direct that fury towards his 28-year-old opponent.

Assuming this really will close the show, it needs to be a great match. I don’t think it will be, or needs to be, the best match of the night. But it needs to be great enough that we leave thinking they were right to put it on last, and that Page has what it takes to close the show. More critically, we need to come away thinking AEW title matches are epic conflicts, so the promotion can credibly use the championships as box office attractions in their own right.

I would be fine with Page as champion, but I think the best move is to have him deliver a star-making performance and then suffer a heartbreaking loss to Jericho. That’s not to say Page shouldn’t eventually win the title. But Jericho has both the clout and the heel heat to sustain a very long chase from multiple contenders, which will make the first men’s world title change as important as the first men’s world title match.

Rey Fenix & Pentagon, Jr. vs. Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson - The Lucha Bros, Penta and Fenix, are defending the AAA tag team championship. The Young Bucks, Matt and Nick, are defending an AEW undefeated streak. This is a ladder match, so the title belts will be suspended above the ring; to reach them ladders will be provided at ringside for the wrestlers to climb. The first person to retrieve the belts will win the match, and the championship, for his team. Since that’s the only way the match can end, there are effectively no count-outs, disqualifications, pinfalls, or submissions.

The feud between the Lucha Bros and the Young Bucks in February, when Penta and Fenix took exception to the Bucks claiming to be the best tag team and attacked them at their own press conference. On March 16 the Lucha Bros headlined AAA’s Rey de Reyes and won the tag team title, but the Bucks showed up for an impromptu title match and took the belts back to AEW. The Bucks successfully defended the title in a rematch at AEW’s Double or Nothing on May 25, but the Lucha Bros finally won it back at AAA’s Verano de Escandalo on June 16. The Bucks teamed with Kenny Omega against the Lucha Bros and Laredo Kid at AEW Fyter Fest on June 29 and AAA Triplemania on August 3. Penta and Fenix issued the challenge for this match at Fight for the Fallen on July 13.

Fenix suffered some sort of leg injury in the past week. From what I’ve read, it might not be anything, but he was worried he tore something and had to get it checked out. The fact I haven’t heard an actual diagnosis suggests that they couldn’t find anything wrong with him. That doesn’t mean there isn’t anything wrong, but I’m hoping it turned out to be nothing and Fenix just needed to rest it up. Either way, I expect the possible injury to be worked into the story of the match, and for the Bucks to do a bunch of moves and stuff onto the leg.

I kinda think the Mexican team should walk out with the Mexican championship, but it is the Bucks’ show and they’ve talked up how legendary their ladder matches are. They can easily win here and then drop the belts at a AAA show, without any apparent impact on the AEW win-loss stats. I gotta pick the Bucks to win (at least all the way up to the finals of the AEW tag title tournament).

Kenny Omega vs. PAC - Pac, formerly Adrian Neville in WWE, is a substitution for Jon Moxley, who had to pull out of this match last week due to a staph infection. Ironically, the substitution pays off on plans that were canceled a while back.

Pac’s involvement in AEW was announced at the company’s original press conference, while he held Dragon Gate’s top title (the Open the Dream Gate championship). He was set to feud with Hangman Page, and the storyline played up the idea that Page wanted to be a champion, implying the match would figure into the AEW world title picture. Then on May 18 Page beat Pac by disqualification at a British indy show, setting up an angle where Pac refused to face Page at their scheduled AEW match on May 25.

It turned out Pac would not agree to lose any matches during his title run, and AEW had decided never to do DQ finishes to get out of booking clean finishes. There was talk that Pac wasn’t even supposed to lose to Page, but he would be feuding with Omega later. I seem to remember speculating that Omega and Pac were meant to win their matches on May 25 and meet for the AEW title here. Obviously that didn’t happen. But Pac has since lost the Dream Gate belt on July 21, which puts him back in play at AEW. And just in the nick of time, it seems.

I was expecting Moxley to be the slight favorite in the originally scheduled match, but now that Pac is in the mix anything is possible. The outcome is totally up in the air, and it’s just as well since I expect the focus is on delivering a killer match to make up for failing to deliver the advertised match. Even though Omega was playing a dick by mocking Mox’s “boo-boo,” Pac is an even bigger dick, so I’m lowkey pulling for Kenny.

Cody Rhodes vs. Shawn Spears - Spears will be seconded by Tully Blanchard, playing on the legendary rivalry between Blanchard and Cody’s father Dusty. Cody brought an entire entourage to the ring a year ago at All In, but for this match he is contractually limited to a single person in his corner. We haven’t been outright told this person will be a big surprise who will make a big difference in the match, but it’s been set up to let us think that, so I hope Cody doesn’t just bring out Dustin Rhodes or Dallas Page.

Rhodes and Spears were friends in OVW when they were coming up through WWE developmental. Cody hit it big in WWE, while Spears (as Tye Dillinger) languished for most of his thirties. When Spears jumped to AEW, fans generally considered it a positive move for both parties, although Cody made an offhand remark about Spears being a “player-coach” and a “good hand,” curiously implying that he was dismissing his friend as a journeyman. Spears took offense and blasted Cody with a chair on June 29, leaving Cody a bloody mess.

This is easily the biggest match of Spears’s career, and it’s probably one of his last chances to escape the stigma of being a never-was. A win would give him momentum as a key figure in the early weeks of AEW’s TV show, as Cody would need to chase him for a few more months to seek vengeance. A loss would simply validate WWE’s lack of interest in Tye Dillinger--and worse, affirm Cody’s kayfabe dismissiveness on AEW’s own programming. Cody hasn’t actually been pinned yet in AEW, so I assume they’re saving that for something; I hope this is it.

Evil Uno & Stu Grayson vs. Chuck Taylor & Trent Beretta - The team that wins this match earns a bye in the AEW tag team championship tournament. So basically you have to win this one match in order to skip one tournament match. That’s kinda screwy. Both of these teams won three-ways to qualify for this match. The Best Friends (Taylor/Beretta) qualified on June 28, while the Dark Order (Uno/Grayson) qualified on July 13.

I think the plan was for the Dark Order to be super-over as a hot team with a spooky gimmick and a cult following on the indies. It hasn’t been working out. Honestly, Chuck Taylor manages to come off as creepier than the Dark Order’s gimmick just by being a really weird dude who is oddly devoted to hugs. Hopefully the popularity of the Best Friends will override disinterest in the Dark Order to heat the match up. Logically, the bad guys should get the bye, so I think the Dark Order better cheat a lot.

Riho vs. Hikaru Shida - I’ve heard talk that the winner of this match will qualify for the first women’s world championship match on October 2, but I haven’t been able to confirm that. It wouldn’t make a ton of sense anyway, considering Riho is 2-1 in AEW and coming off of a loss, while Shida is 1-0 but hasn’t appeared in the company since May. I don’t have stats in front of me, but I would think at least one other woman in the company would have more credibility in this spot. Then again, Britt Baker was sidelined with a concussion for much of August, so maybe she was originally slated for this spot and they decided they couldn’t wait to see if she’d be cleared. I guess I’ll go with Riho to win, even though I’m still not sure what’s at stake.

Christopher Daniels & Frankie Kazarian & Scorpio Sky vs. Jungle Boy & Luchasaurus & Marko Stunt - The Daniels team is SCU. Jungle Boy and Luchasaurus are “A Boy and His Dinosaur,” so I guess with Marko they’re “A Boy and A Boy and His Dinosaur” or something like that. This could be a good chance to put over the Luchasaurus team, but their gimmick is going to be over either way, so maybe they should keep up momentum on SCU.

Darby Allin vs. Joey Janella vs. Jimmy Havoc - This is a three-way match, so the first man to score a fall on either of his opponents wins. These guys were on the losing end of a six-man tag match on July 13. At the time I believe I observed that nobody in that six-man had yet won a match, so now the losers of the Weenie Hut Jr.’s Bowl are having a Super Weenie Hut Jr.’s Bowl. I guess the guy who scores the winning fall gets to escape into the midcard, while the other two open the next show, and the loser of that match gets to hang out with Brandon Cutler backstage or something. Of the three, Allin is the biggest project with perhaps the least indy scene cred, so he’ll probably be the Super Weenie Hut Jr.’s champion.

21-Woman Casino Battle Royale - This is set for the free pre-show. It’s a gauntlet battle royale with timed entrances and over-the-top-rope eliminations, but with the same special rules as the one AEW did on May 25. Five women start the match, and every three minutes another group of women enter; the 21st woman enters alone. Eliminations can occur at any time by exiting the ring over the top rope and placing both feet on the floor before re-entering. The last woman left after everyone else is eliminated wins the match, and qualifies to wrestle...uh, someone (maybe the winner of Riho vs. Shida?) for the women’s championship on October 2.

As soon as AEW announced the match, they admitted they didn’t have 21 women on the roster, so we can expect a lot of new faces. Confirmed so far:

Allie

Awesome Kong

Big Swole

Brandi Rhodes

Britt Baker

Ivelisse

Jazz

Nyla Rose

Sadie Gibbs

Shazza McKenzie

Teal Piper

I heard AEW and Impact Wrestling were in talks to put Tenille Dashwood in this match, but even if that’s true they might not get the i’s dotted in time. Taya Valkyrie was on Being the Elite the other day, but I don’t know if that means anything. Obviously Chicago is wondering if CM Punk will be at this show, but I never see anyone wondering if his wife, AJ Mendez, might show up. Apparently something is up with Kylie Rae but nobody’s talking about it, which is troubling. I don’t even know what continent Bea Priestly will be on during this show, so she may not be available.

It feels like AEW’s biggest plans in this division are for Baker, although that could be just to have her put over someone else when the moment comes. The safest bet is Britt, though, until someone else emerges from the pack.

Jack Evans & Angelico vs. Isiah Kassidy & Marq Quen - Another match for the pre-show. Kassidy and Quen are Private Party, and everyone likes them but the big issue I’m always hearing is that they’re green and need to be protected by veterans until they’re ready. Evans and Angelico are veterans, so there you go. My guess is that AEW won’t book Private Party to actually win a match until they’ve decided the team is truly ready, but since we don’t know when that’ll happen we have something to look forward to every time they wrestle. For now, I gotta pick Evangelico (is anybody calling them that?) to win.

#aew #all out #hangman page #chris jericho #the young bucks #lucha bros #kenny omega #pac

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roxywashere · 5 years

Text

What’s Up, Danger

Rey acclimates to her powers

Rey Walker, better known as the superhero Neon, had very suddenly become a celebrity after being inducted into Astra’s League, the world's most prestigious superhero organization. She sat in the League's headquarters, FursTech Tower in Danesville, Wisconsin, at 3 in the morning January 1st 2101, watching as 24-hour news stations scrambled to uncover everything they could about this random punk-rocker who had just been thrust onto the world's stage. Her best friends and long-time crime-fighting partners Hilda Furst, Elle Ectric, and Shailene Octavia stood around watching the same holographic screens where they were also being analysed for the same reasons.

“This is so weird,” Rey commented as she watched the TMZ office argue about the team’s power levels while all still wearing party hats from their New Years party just hours before.

“You’ll get used to it,” Aradia Furst told her.

“I’m literally being interviewed by like 17 people every single minute and I hate it,” Hilda said. She was apparently Aradia’s second cousin three times removed (Hilda’s great-great-great-great-grandparents were Aradia’s great-grandparents), which Hilda had only learned when she saw it on MSNBC’s coverage of her. “I’ve never killed myself in public before but I’m this fucking close to doing it just to have one less body for everybody to interrogate.” She’d never been this stressed out by her power before, at least that she’d let her best friends know.

“This is exactly why I don’t like going out in public,” Elle said.

“Well, I guess you’re going to be travelling exclusively by lightning bolt forever now because your ass is famous worldwide.”

“I wish my ass was famous,” Shailene mumbled.

“Don’t go getting any ideas, now,” Aradia chastised. “We’re public figures, we have to keep a clean facade.”

“I mean, do we have to? Or is that just how things have been done? What if it’s tasteful? With, like, a real photographer?”

“If you want to draw Astra’s ire, go ahead. But I’ll be looking down my nose at you the whole time.”

“All I heard was ‘go ahead’.”

“Do you pay us?” Hilda asked. “Or would we have to do brand deals and shit.”

“You each get a monthly stipend which will support a quite comfortable housing arrangement,” Aradia answered. “Anything else you wish to earn on top of that is up to you. I would suggest that you wait to get comfortable with your new income before you start trying to supplement it.”

“Is that on top of, or replacing, your basic income program?”

Aradia was at a loss for words. “No League members have ever been on the program before. I never even considered that it was a possibility.”

Rey’s phone dinged with a new message. She was actually kind of surprised that it wasn’t just constantly going off since the press conference. The text, and the ones that immediately followed it, read:

Hey, this is Felicia The waitress From the diner You gave me your number Are you busy right now? You’re probably busy You can ignore me if you’re busy

With a brief burst of her superspeed Rey texted back:

I'm not busy don’t worry Just watching the news hyd?

What is this, the 20s? ‘hyd’?

I’m old fashioned

I get enough old fashioned at this fucking diner

Is your shift over?

Almost. Another hour

You work third shift often?

Only tonight I drew the short straw to work the new year shift

You busy after?

I was planning on sleeping

That’s probably a good idea

I could wait until after getting an early breakfast tho

Wanna come to Danesville? I know a couple places

Danesville is a 10 hour drive from here

I can carry you Btw, whats the actual address of the diner I kinda just stumbled upon you last time

1 Mile Run Rd Allenwood PA We’re right next to Little Mountain State Park off I-80

Suddenly Hilda jumped out of her seat, yelling “FUCK!”

“What is it?” Aradia asked.

“The Harlequin just showed up at one of my bank security guard jobs. Midwest Federal.”

A plasma trail traced from the chair Rey had been sitting in to the workshop’s balcony, where Rey already was, leaning over it to look out over the city. “Alright Aradia, time to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“I suppose it is.” Aradia got to work casting a portal, but instead of waiting Rey jumped over the railing and ran down the side of the building. Running down a building was always much harder than running up one, but it was so much more exhilarating. On her way down, she sent one last text to Felicia:

Gotta go. Duty calls. See you in an hour hopefully If I never text back then that means I’m dead 👉😎👉

She made it to the bottom with no problems, and flowed through the city until she stopped in front of the bank. Five of Hilda in bank security guard uniforms were standing with their handguns pointed at the door. All the lights inside were dark, and the front door looked like it had been smashed in. A second later the portal Aradia had been casting finally opened, behind Hilda and Rey.

“Wait,” Shay said, double-taking at the balcony of the workshop behind her. “How did you...”

“I’ve been here for like five minutes, guys,” Rey taunted.

An ATM came flying out of the bank’s front doors, followed by a shrill roar. Rey stepped out of the way, pulling one of Hilda who was also in the way along with her.

“What the fuck was that? I thought you said the Harlequin was in there?”

“I swear to god I saw her mask for an instant before she killed me,” Hilda said.

“Is she working with somebody new?”

“Let’s not wait to see...” Aradia said. “HARLEQUIN!” I know you’re in there. You’ve slipped under my radar for far too long.”

Another roar rang out. And then a slow stomping, slowly growing closer. And eventually some creature stepped out of the shadows, with red-and-white checkered scales, wearing the Harlequin’s mask: a plain featureless oval, half red and half white. Except the mask had been split across its width, a third of the way up, by a thick crack which was now its mouth.

“What the fuck is that thing?” Elle asked.

It spoke, in a low, rasping tone. “Hello, Aradia. Recognise me?”

“Why should I, fiend?” Aradia demanded.

“Twofold, witch. Your father was a thorn in my side for decades, one. And you and I spoke face to face only 7 days and a few hours ago, two.”

The Harlequin had been a consistent foe of her father in his early days before joining Astra’s League, this Aradia was familiar with. But, seven days and a few hours ago, Aradia had been at Johanna Kerr’s christmas ball, before it had been blown up by what evidence suggested was the Harlequin, or at least her goons. Aradia would have remembered encountering this beast there.

“What happened to you, Harlequin. This is something new, even for you.”

“I’ll spare you the details of my weakness, if you please. I’ll only have you know that it was and remains to be very painful.”

Something clicked in Aradia’s mind. Could it have something to do with the massive explosion the Harlequin had triggered after Aradia had left the christmas ball? If she had been at the ball to trigger the bomb, she likely would also have been caught in it. That would be more than enough energy to disrupt the impenetrability of her superhuman skin and possibly cause this strange alteration. It was a chemistry gauntlet to work through some other time, however, and especially not as a mere thought experiment.

“Then allow me to relieve your pain,” Aradia announced, straightening her back, and drawing herself up into the standard casting stance, one hand held in front of the other, fingers ready to trace magic circles into the air. “Girls, do what you do.”

The very first thing the Harlequin did was wrench a piece of the door frame out of the wall, and attempt to use it as a javelin to spear Aradia. As before, Rey leapt in to pull Aradia out of the way of the projectile, which embedded into a concrete wall across the street.

“Don’t worry about me getting hit,” Aradia told Rey. “I’m more robust than I look. Focus on taking this thing out.” She then quickly summoned a simple but strong magical barrier, and used it to give herself cover while maneuvered herself next to Hilda.

Meanwhile, Elle and Shay put their powers to work together, performing one of their favorite tag-team moves. Shay reached out and liberated the bronze fixtures from the destroyed door, which she psychically compacted into two rods and Elle then pumped a voltage differential into. Shay launched them at the Harlequin, which hit and elicited a scream as the voltages equalized through her.

Once Aradia had sidled up to Hilda, she asked of her “I’m going to need you to duplicate something for me, quickly.”

“What is it?”

Aradia knelt down and anchored her barrier to the street. She then plucked a dimly glowing white jewel off one of her necklaces and handed it to Hilda. “Its magic and that's all you'll understand even if I explained it. Took me a few years to understand myself.”

Hilda took the jewel and quickly duplicated herself to five, before passing the now 5 jewels to the middle-most her and re-condensing herself back to one. She repeated the duplication once more, before handing them to Aradia. Piled together in a hoard of 25, their combined glow was now about as bright as an average light bulb.

“That’ll do quite nicely,” Aradia said. She dumped all but one into her sleeve, cradling the last one in her palm. She pumped her light through her skin into the jem.

Aradia stood up, clenching her other fist and dissipating the shield she had summoned. She tossed the jewel towards the Harlequin, and yelled “Rey! Blast this with me!”

While Aradia cast a spell to focus her light, Rey zipped in and examined the jem. In the compressed time that her power afforded her, she grabbed it out of the air, and made a deliberate pondering pose for a long enough fraction of a second that she would be visible doing it. She then walked up to the Harlequin, and held it out in front of the Harlequin’s mask. While the Harlequin did a double-take at the audacity of the act, Rey asked “This a good spot?”

“Perfect.” Aradia illuminated the jem with a brilliant white laser projected from her fingertip. Rey, for her own part, channeled her power to siphon some of the plasma that was fueling her into it as well. It was less than a second before Rey felt a crack, and took that has her cue to let go and back away very casually.

Rey watched from a roof across the street as the jewel exploded, throwing the Harlequin through the wall of the bank.

She only recently had been able to go this fast, after Aradia had given her an upgrade: The Heart. The Heart was a backpack fusion reactor that produced functionally infinite plasma for her to fuel her power with. She use to be able to consistently hit speeds of about fifteen miles a minute, but she’d only be able to sustain that for a handful of minutes. With the Heart, however, she’d been clocking a mile a second, and she had been able to sustain that for at least fifteen minutes, long enough to run from New York City to Danesville, without a sweat.

She pulled her phone out and checked to see Felicia’s response:

If that becomes the last text you ever send anybody i’m donating this phone to the smithsonian for their astras league exhibit

Rey smiled, and put her phone away. She went to step off the roof, but stopped when she noticed a strange flower growing out of the gravel spread across the roof. She summoned some plasma to her palm to shine a light on the flower, which closed its petals against the intense beam of sun-simulacrum.

She heard a crunch against the gravel behind her, and as quickly as she could she turned to face the sound, delivering her neck quite nicely into the grasp of a viney tentacle.

“Well, well, well,” world-infamous supervillainess Babalon said, as she lifted Rey off the ground.

She was dark-skinned, indian-american if Rey remembered the various tv specials about her correctly. Her hair was a long braided tangle, interwoven with branches and interspersed with flowers. She was wearing a bodysuit that was either made of leaves or designed to look like it was made of leaves. Holding her up off the ground were a dozen or so ten-foot-long, inch-thick vines that sprouted from her back and waist, one of which was stretched out and holding Rey. Each vine ended in a bundle of two-foot-long “fingers” each of which could move individually but tended to be used in groups. The fingers were what was wrapped around Rey's neck, preventing her from making her retreat.

Babalon drew herself closer to Rey. “It seems the self-pompous priestess of light has found herself a new disciple. Wanna know what I did to the last one?”

“I'm good, actually. Hey, why'd you name yourself Babalon?” Rey responded, grabbing the vine around her neck with both hands and channeling some of her plasma into it. Babalon recoiled as two feet of that vine was instantly incinerated.

“She gave you the Light too?! HOW?!” Babalon screamed as she swung another of her vines at Rey, faster even than most other superspeedsters Rey had ever met. No wonder she was on the top tier, worthy of being one of the few that drew Astra herself out to fight.

Rey needed to actually focus. Her new upgrade gave her an edge, but only barely.

She boosted herself backwards, remembering just a little too late that the edge of the roof had been behind her. She tripped over the parapet and fell back over the edge, and slowed time down to give her some space for thought. She was about 5 stories up. It would take about 4 seconds to reach the ground. That was plenty of time. She brought her hand to her chin and pondered.

She had only had three hours to adjust to her new power level, but she was fairly confident in her ability. She had developed one specific new skill, something almost unnoticeable that she had nonetheless noticed running up and down buildings all night. She just needed to figure out how to do it on purpose.

She felt the writing mass of plasma on her back, the Heart, given to her by Aradia. She felt its warmth, its light. “The Light”, Babalon had called it. Astra, local goddess she was, had never revealed what it was that fueled her cosmic might, but she did do a lot of glowing while she used it. Was this the same Light? Rey had no idea, but it was a fun little supposition to make. And it did somewhat explain the aforementioned new skill.

“Are you... posing?” Babalon asked, apparently appalled by the gall Rey was exhibiting.

Rey had been focusing on both her inner monologue and maintaining the hand to the chin, and hadn’t noticed that time had resumed normal speed and she hadn’t continued falling.

“What the fuck?!” Shay yelled. “I’m not doing that!

Rey looked at herself. She appeared to be just standing at a 90 degree angle from vertical, 45 feet above the street. “Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.” As she moved, the plasma trail that indicated she was using her power traced her every gesture.

Babalon lunged over the edge, and Rey cut out her power to drop herself out of reach. Shay reached out and grabbed Rey before she hit the ground, following the unprecedented failure of Rey to reactivate the hovering part with the rest of her powers.

“That was weird,” Rey told the others as she righted herself. “Anyway, what’s up with this bitch, Rad?”

Aradia gave Rey a look of annoyance for using her nickname. “That’s Jane Newark. She’s...” Aradia sighed. “A pseudodemon, and a Whore.”

“Wow, strong words. But, I get the idea. Let’s kick her ass.”

A brick whizzed past Rey's head. “Forgetting something?” the Harlequin growled.

“Elle, help me out with Babalon, the rest of you keep dealing with dollface.”

Elle zapped up to the roof with Babalon, with Rey following.

“The witch’s new toys are out to play, I see...” Babalon said as she circled the two. “I’ve killed 5 of Astra’s League, you two small fries don’t stand a chance.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Rey said winding up a punch, Elle standing behind her. “Elle, now!”

Elle jumped forwards, converting herself into pure electrical energy, electrical plasma. She wrapped herself around Rey’s arm, and Rey absorbed her and used her energy to launch herself forward, fist first. Elle released herself the instant Rey’s fist hit Babalon’s chest, exploding out of Rey’s hand, shooting forwards and launching Babalon into the sky.

Elle continued to the clouds, dragging Babalon along with her. She rematerialized periodically, taking opportunities to give Babalon a kick or two before returning to plasma to dodge Babalon’s flailing vines. On the ground, Rey flowed through the streets, following Elle’s flashes of lightning.

Elle eventually let Babalon go in the middle of a cloud over a field outside the city. She struck down to the ground, and started waiting for Babalon to fall down to her. Rey caught up only a few seconds later. They acknowledged each other with a fistbump that crackled with static and neon.

“So what was with that flying thing back there?” Elle asked.

“I don’t really know. This nuclear backpack Rad gave me has some fucking magic in it or something.”

“Can you do it again?”

“I mean, probably. I don’t know how though. How do you do it?”

‘“It’s just an instinctual extension of my power. But it’s not really the same as, like, how Astra flies.”

“I mean, obviously. But I gotta start somewhere.”

“What if you just try running up?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“When you run with your power, it’s like pushing yourself in the direction you want to go, right? Just do that, but up.”

“I don’t know...” Rey was silent as she looked up to inspect Babalon's progress towards the ground. “Wait, shit, I just got it.”

“Got what?”

“It’s the Garden of Babalon, because she controls plants.”

Elle sighed. “That does make sense, yeah. You wanna give it a go, with me giving you a boost?”

“Give what a go?”

“Running up.”

“I mean, sure. But you gotta promise to catch me if it don't work.” Rey reached out her hand towards Elle

“Deal.” Elle took Rey’s hand. “3, 2, 1...” Elle converted to lightning and crackled over Rey’s skin as Rey absorbed her, before Rey knelt down and then jumped into the air, Elle releasing herself to give Rey a little extra height.

Rey tried doing what Elle suggested, activating her power to try to force herself higher. As Elle jumped out of her, Rey tried to siphon some of the extra energy Elle had given her, and add it to her reservoir.

She didn’t expect that she would be rocketed into the sky at the same speed she could run. She passed Babalon, still on her own journey down, before she knew what was happening, and hit the clouds in a single second.

Elle, still nearly on the ground, for a second thought her friend had exploded or somehow vaporized herself, until she backed away and saw Rey’s plasma trail tracing a thick, bright line straight up. “Holy shit, Rey.”

Rey, now whizzing past the clouds, considered what to do next. She calmly pulled some plasma from the Heart, though not nearly as much as she used to get into this position, and then tried activating her power downwards to slow her still very rapid ascent through the atmosphere. She managed to stop herself before she got to the point where the air would be too thin to breath, and then let herself start to drop back down to Earth. She periodically slowed herself down, until she was continuously doing it, and was floating like she had done accidentally before. She experimented with the hypothetical throttle of her power, gently increasing and decreasing to raise higher and lower, and then tried to change the angle at which the was directing her power, and managed to achieve something quite analogous to how she assumed someone like Astra could fly.

She glanced down, and noticed Elle zapping around a very angry looking dot, and dropped down to join her.

“Nice of you to join us,” Elle said as Rey gently fell to a stop a few dozen feet above the grass.

“Hey, turns out, I can totally fly.”

“Join the club.”

“We just did, like 5 hours ago.”

“Shut and help me, Rey.”

Rey dropped down to the ground, where Babalon was swinging her vines wildly to try and and reach the two heroes floating just out of her reach.

“You getting tired yet?” Rey asked her. “If you want I could go get Astra, somebody you can actually get some good swings in with.”

“Don’t act like you’re too powerful for me. You haven’t laid a finger on me either, you stupid punk.”

“Tell that to your singed vine.”

Babalon lunged at Rey, growling with frustration. Rey zipped past her vines, and grabbed the vine harness that anchored her plant limbs to her human body. Rey pumped plasma directly from the Heart onto the vines, incinerating them and burning away the leaf-like costume Babalon was wearing.

Babalon swung one of her human arms, hitting Rey and sending her flying.

Rey crashed into the grass, rolling and yelling in pain. “FUCK! I think my rib is broken...”

Babalon, now robbed of her major advantage and seething with rage, stomped towards the now vulnerable hero. “That’s why it takes Astra to handle me, you petulant child. She can take a hit.”

Elle zapped over to Rey, to put herself between Rey and Babalon. “You get back, you bitch.” Elle unwound the chains she kept wrapped around her arms, and started swinging them, striking sparks between them. “We aren’t done here, yet.”

“I’ll just kill you both, then.”

Elle ran at Babalon, and then zapped around her, leaving her chains corporeal enough to wrap around Babalon’s arms. Elle materialized behind her and twisted the chains to bind Babalon’s arms behind her. “Do anything stupid and your heart’s a piece of burnt toast.”

“Bold of you to assume I have one.”

“Well, if you say so.” Elle pumped 10,000 volts across her hands, sending the current across Babalon’s shoulders, setting her skin on fire most evidently. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Elle atomized the chains and rematerialized them back on her own arms, and then kicked Babalon to the ground, where she screamed in apparent agony. “Rey, do you think you can walk?”

Rey slowly got to her feet, grunting occasionally whenever she agitated the broken rib. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Can you send up a flare?”

“Yeah.” Rey raised her palm up to the sky, and launched a plasma ball into the air, arcing slightly towards the city.

A portal appeared a dozen seconds later, out of which Aradia, Shay, and Hilda stepped. Rey saw, through the portal, the Harlequin, restrained tightly by a few dozen feet of chain wrapped around her, being loaded into a police van.

“Good work, girls,” Aradia congratulated. “You are certainly working hard to earn your place on this team.” Aradia strode towards the writhing Babalon, and pulled all of the adamantium from the jewelry she was wearing and sent it to lift Babalon and hogtie her. “Wait until Astra hears how the youngest members of the League took you down on their own.”

“Your threats of humiliation mean nothing, witch,” Babalon spat.

Aradia muzzled Babalon with the remaining adamantium she had. “Shut the fuck up, Whore.”

Rey limped over. “Hey, I don’t suppose you got any healing magic, do you?”

“Depends how severe your injury.”

“Broken rib?”

“Just one? No trouble at all.” Aradia quickly danced out a spell, which sent a warmth up through Rey’s ribcage. “Now, I would suggest you rest for a while before...”

“No can do, doc, I’ve got a date to keep.” Punctuated by a communal sigh from all five of the other women, Rey zipped off.

#Astraverse #Rey Walker #superhero #superhero literature #Serial story #writing

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