#if you have any questions on how to do a certain thing

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hello sexy witch, I have a question that I've been quite embarrassed by. For reference, I'm a cis male. I've recently gotten more into anal stuff lately, I used to avoid it, then I found I only liked it as long as something was vibrating right on my prostate, and now I'm enjoying more as long as what I'm using is a comfortable size.

I'm way too scared to do any of this with my wife, however, and it comes to the more obvious, and more gross, part. The best way I can describe it is that there always seems to be something in the chamber, ready to deploy any time in the next 12 hours. I have tried playing at various times, after I've used the bathroom, or when I haven't had to go at all, but there's always something THERE. If the few times I've resorted to just using my fingers is any indication, it seems there's always some poop about a knuckle and a half, or so, deep. I always use condoms on toys, and gloves on my hand, so the cleanup is somewhat nicer, but the fact that something is in me so shallow, makes me embarrassed to hell. None of the partners I've done this with in the past had the same issue. Is this me imagining things, or is my body just weird in waste production? I nearly died the last time I did it because I, excuse the colourful language, literally fucked some shit out of me, and a nickel sized piece of poop ended up on the floor somehow.

I just want to avoid having something like that so I can enjoy it more, so I can do more stuff with my wife, and also so I don't have to deal with the smell afterwards when I'm cleaning up.

hi anon,

listen. look at me. have a seat, pour yourself some lemonade. it's got strawberries in it.

your body is a body doing what bodies do, which is be absolutely miraculous and also pretty gross. sex is so so so cool and also kind of disgusting, that's an okay thing to acknowledge. a lot of fluids happening, a lot of smells, a lot of tastes that we don't necessarily have to LOVE but do need to recognize as a natural occurrence that's just part of the process when we use our bodies in certain ways!

your body isn't weird, it's doing what bodies do. your anus can be a source of incredibly sexual pleasure and it's also where poop comes from, dude; that's okay. it's fine if things get messy sometimes. it sounds like you're taking every reasonable precaution re: keeping things clean, and if you're worried about future incidents of something getting on the floor, maybe a sexy little towel or tarp is in order.

listen. listen. genuinely, truly, I believe that if someone is unwilling to deal with the bodily function side effects that are tied to a particular sexual behavior, then maybe you need to put that on the shelf until you can handle the full reality of the situation.

you are fine. your body does not work exactly like other people's and that is fine. and if other people you're having sex with don't understand how an anus works and what the logical side effects are, and god forbid if they shame you for that, then that's a problem they need to sit with and they've helpfully flagged themself as a person you shouldn't be having anal sex with.

ease up and let your body be a body.

[harmonysanreads]

Ratio looks like he'd fold after two genuine compliments and not just ones about his looks or intelligence. Bro would not be able to handle actual genuine words from someone because he's so damn used to hollow words from fans and haters alike (I don't care if this is ooc its true in my heart)

No no, I agree with you.

People tend to take compliments too lightly, let whatever escape their mouths often carelessly. The act of giving compliments can be honed into an art with practice, the gesture of taking them gracefully can be considered as a mark of maturity and class. Simply put, you can tell a lot about a person based on how they give and receive compliments.

The academic field is privy to many kinds of drama. Back-handed compliments thrive in the radius around ‘geniuses’, ‘prodigies’ and the ‘talented’. Unless you hear it from certain people, delivered in very specific tones, you won't even know just how easily positive words can be twisted to feel like insults. Ratio is intimately familiar with this phenomenon.

It took some struggle, reflection, trial and error until he understood the sheer absurdity of the situation. By then, it was more funny than hurtful to him. Oh, the scope of idiocy. Ratio prefers words in communication to be direct and transparent, though he won't deny that nuance and implication have their own charm when used appropriately.

Ratio might not appear so due to his default disposition, but he's actually quite good at complimenting — given that he finds something genuinely admirable about the person. Take his party-joining voicelines about Ruan Mei and Herta for example. But because of the factor that needs to be met to be complimented by the man, his words of appreciation are often posed as statements (e.g. his voiceline about Screwllum). Which could make his compliments hard to believe if you happen to struggle with receiving them.

Now, the first thing that comes to my mind if we're looking for ‘that’ compliment which will be successful in flustering him ; is to try to learn and understand his ideology, values, ambitions and mindset by extension. Difficult task, I know, but studying Veritas Ratio is unavoidable if we're talking about him. Of course, Ratio enjoys studying everything around him even more, so to catch someone this perceptive off-guard is a bit of a challenge.

Well, it's not possible to understand a human in their entirety, so the effort is of greater importance. Observe, question (and don't be dismayed by his sharp comebacks), reflect, apply what you learned and always try to be genuine. There is no way Ratio won't notice honest efforts.

I don't know why but I have this nagging feeling that compliments about his appearance can also do the trick. Perhaps it's because they could've become somewhat scarce since he started using the alabaster head. But don't just randomly go, "You're so handsome! Your eyes are so pretty!" True as they may be, try to point something he hasn't considered or heard, challenge him. “I appreciate the way you maintain your hair. The neatness and your choice of accessory is pleasant to the eyes.” is something that I'd probably go for. This has greater chances of working if you've made a place in his head through the first suggestion, so to say.

And when, after all that hard work, you do succeed — Ratio is a sight to see. If there was some sort of microscope to gauge the transition of human emotions when they receive compliments, it'd paint such an entertaining picture. First is a scintilla of surprise, then you get a flicker of joy which ignites into flames of emotions too jumbled to decipher — Ratio's cheeks and ears will be guilty of letting them escape. If you don't seem to get any coherent response from the scholar even after an interval of patience, just know that Ratio.exe has stopped working.

[monotonesmile]

Damian Wayne Headcanons

————————————————————————————————

[General Headcanons:]

Damian knows a lot of languages so he can and will use them to confuse his siblings (and once on Bruce. Note: This did not work, Bruce started speaking the same language.) in arguments. He will fully switch to a completely different dialect in the middle of a sentence, he’ll go from English to fluent Latin.

Damian definitely isn’t a touchy-feely person or a praising man, so he usually expresses himself through quality time or acts of service. He does care, he’s just had the aspect of “showing emotions is weakness” so beaten into him that he’s just doing everything subconsciously.

I feel like Damian does take time out of his day to actually hang out with his siblings, whether by (begrudgingly) going out with Dick or hanging out with Jason in one of the many libraries in the manor in silence. He does want to be around his siblings, he just won’t admit it as stated before.

Damian is always happy whenever he gets to have authentic food from where he was raised before arriving at Wayne Manor, it makes him smile a bit when Alfred makes it for him, even if it has to be changed a little due to his vegetarianism.

Damian, as Robin, is both a strike first, ask questions later type but also a strategist at the same time. Nobody understands how.

[Romantic Headcanons:]

When it comes down to romantic relationships though, he will definitely not be any different in the first few months of dating, he’ll be cold and blunt as ever but there is a hint of softness to everything he does, plus you’ll find honestly beautiful portraits and drawings in your bag or room at times.

After a few months of dating he’ll let you actually hold his hand in public, although he definitely doesn’t look happy about it (he’s happy, he just has a resting bitch face).

Damian definitely doesn’t tell you about his night life as Robin for a long while, he’s afraid you’d look at him differently and be scared off by it. It takes him probably more than a year, maybe even two, to actually tell you of his secret identity, and even longer to tell you about his true past with the League of Assassins for the same reasons he was afraid to tell you about his life as Robin.

He absolutely has petnames for you in different languages.

If his multitude of pets love you, you’ve just become absolute wife/husband/spouse material in his eyes, especially if you also love animals.

Damian is low key really sweet towards his partner, but it really doesn’t look like that from an outside perspective, from someone else’s POV, Damian looks uninterested and cold towards you, but you can see the small things, the way his thumb runs across your knuckles as you hold hands and how he is keeping his eyes on you.

Damian would be hella embarrassed if you traced any of his scars, it is absolutely one of the best ways to get him to shut up or blush brighter than a tomato.

Damian likes listening to your heartbeat, it’s like he’s reminding himself that you’re real and actually with him. He’s afraid of losing the people he loves and cares for so he does certain things to remind himself that it’s all real.

To leave off on a soft note, Damian’s kisses are always soft and sweet, like he’s savoring every moment of it, he always involuntarily smiles into kisses as well.

[sublightdrive]

I say this a lot but I am constantly amazed at how the complex numbers aren't a convenient or useful extension that we stuck "on top" of real numbers, but rather it would be better to call real numbers a flat shadow cast by the more "real" structure of the complex numbers. Long example of what I mean by this under the break:

For an example of what I mean by this, we can consider the Taylor series expansion for the function

Now the whole idea of a Taylor series is kind of preposterous, this notion that certain functions can not only be approximated with an polynomial, but that if we allow that polynomial to have infinite terms that the two functions are actually the same function... so long as we stay inside a certain interval.

And it's that "inside a certain interval" that's the kicker, here. Because we're dealing with The Infinite, a tempestuous beast to wrangle on the best of days, and we have to be careful where and when we let it off the leash. The series expansion above is only true when you plug in x values between -1 and 1.

Inside that range, each additional term of the polynomial you calculate gets you values closer and closer to the original function. Pick an x value outside that range, and instead of each term getting you closer to the original function's value, they get you further away.

Which, okay sure. But why?

Well, if we take look at the very similar (but not quite the same) function

then that question has a more obvious answer. For this function, the series expansion diverges at 1 and -1... because the function itself does. Plugging in either -1 or 1 forces g(x) to divide by zero, exploding its output up to infinity. The series expansion does the same thing for a different reason, since when x is small, each subsequent term is getting smaller as you go down the polynomial, but if you pick a larger x-value the terms get bigger and bigger.

But what's the deal with our original function? It hasn't got any infinite spikes to speak of. If we plot it, it turns out to have a quite reasonable little graph that's nearly flat besides a pleasant little bump around x=0:

In fact, there's nothing notable at all about our points x=-1 and x=1. No asymptotes, weird wiggles, inflection points, nothing.

To see where the issue is, we need to step up into the complex plane. When we allow our choice of values to include imaginary components, then it becomes clear where the issue lies:

We have an asymptote (or, since we're in the complexes now, it would be more appropriate to call it a singularity) at x=i and x=-i. When we plot those points on the complex plane we get a hint toward what's going on:

The singularities at ±i define the radius of a circle that lines up perfectly with the range of divergence we originally saw that went from -1 to 1.

And as it turns out the range of values within which any function's series expansion works like it should depends entirely on how away we are from the nearest singularity on the complex plane, even when the original function was entirely real-valued.

When we look at functions purely as they behave over the real numbers, all we're seeing is the surface level behavior of a much greater and complicated structure, which exists in a more complete capacity in the complex realm. Under most circumstances that structure doesn't "interfere" with what we're trying to do, so it's not obvious that it's there. But it is always there, dictating the way real valued functions behave.

I picked up this specific example from Tristan Needham's Visual Complex Analysis, which really opened my eyes to how a lot of the (seemingly) arbitrary "rules" of complex analysis can be seen as the straightforward consequences of what he calls the "amplitwist". I highly recommend it to anyone who, like me, loves pictures and visual thinking to make sense of bigger ideas.

where are my maths enjoyers i need some maths positivity on the dash please

no hate allowed on this post btw go make your own post this is for maths enjoyers only

please tell me your favourite maths topic ill go first i love algebra :]

[n0tamused]

i request thy assistance. urgently.. needeth thee. is there any way thou can deliver some headcanons of what Mr. Reca would be like if his partner were studying for an extensive period of time and needed some loving after it?

much appreciated!

A/n: here you go bbg, I hope this is good enough, mwah! First time writing Reca, so I apologize if this is too short or a bit ooc. Thank you for the request.

Contents: Mr. Reca x GN reader, comfort fluff, not proof-read

-Mr. Reca is no stranger to burning the midnight oil as he has done it in the past himself more times than he cares to count. Often times this would be a result of him indulging a bit too much in his current project and forgetting about the passage of time, other times it was simply a necessity to get something done before the due date

-But he is truly not the biggest subscriber to seeing you burning yourself away. He’d click his tongue when he so much as senses the upcoming exams on your end, his usually cheshire smile replaced by an unamused frown.

-It distracts you so much from the wonders of life - and takes you away from him of course, how dare the exams do such a thing, how can those professors demand so much smh..

-This is too out of character.

-If he could clap his clapper board to re-do this entire segment of your life and trade it for something better and more easy on your mind and body, he would. But alas..

-He truly does admire your perseverance in the field, even with all the trials and tribulations you passed to get to where you are now. Don’t think for a second that he ever forgot; even the tiniest details cannot escape his memory. If his mind was a palace, he’d have a special room, a library, made just for the memories of you. Everything and anything related to you

-While he is busy himself he still feels the shift in the relationship - aka the lack of time spent together and while he doesn’t like it, he won’t distract you from it unless it is to check up on you or if you really burnt away the day at your books.

-While he is not the best at cooking a good meal for you, he will clean up the house while you’re studying, set the table up and clean after you two eat since this guy is gonna order your favorite meal and drinks and make sure you get some good nutrients and hydration in you. He can make simple things…like tea and coffee and maybe some scrambled eggs but honestly that is not good enough for your current situation. 

-He would make you tea before bed - something he also makes you do on time. He is not against using his memokeeper magic to make you come to bed sooner. At times he doesn’t even have to use that, he’d just move the hands on the big clock to make it seem as if hours passed and you’re just too tired to check your phone until you’re tucked away in his arms in bed. 

-If it is still early in the evening he does love to talk to you to pull you out of your study cave mood. Sometimes he can go on tangents about all the elements needed in preparation of a film or a certain aspect that makes a good character and why, other times he tells you about what happened on set last time, his frustrations and such all while having these very animated movements and gestures with his arms or even legs sometimes. He cannot sit still. But if he sees that his yapping is overwhelming you he knows to tone it down to a softer language and volume, just asking you simple questions if you’d like to cuddle or what you’d like to eat.

-He’d drag you over to him, tenderly by the arm and have you lay your head in his lap, cooing softly at how sweet you look like that while his hand goes to smooth through your hair. He would tease you if you were in any better spirits but he just smiles and watches how your lashes flutter shut, your cheeks lightly dusted with blush.

-Reca is very.. colorful with his words and quite creative, so besides the endless list of pet names, some of which are lowkey ridiculous, he is a pro at giving you encouraging words. He can be quite smug when he sees the effect he has on you

-Would definitely talk to you until you fall asleep too, whispering sweet nothings into the top of your head as his hand runs up and down your back, lulling you to sleep.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[mari-lair]

I’m a little hung up on Odile’s “I’m curious to see how he reacts” line from the flower comic. That could be such a cute excuse for her doing sweet things for and with Siffrin while they’re looping. Because family! But also it could get serious and messed up as time goes on, because she detached enough to actually start doing things just to see how he reacts, and to investigate the loops. It’d be like a weird parallel to how Siffrin kept pushing the idea that even if their family forgot, those things still happened, and still mattered. But when Bonnie gets crushed they drop that mentality immediately. Think of the psych damage of Odile having that journey but it’s a methodical and active thing, instead of being all subconscious because of the horrors™. It’d be part unintentional; a consequence of any moment she and the family have with Siffrin being erased, and never recreated. It’d be partly repetition; she was saying that “curious to see how they react” shit for the bit, but like with Odile’s we’re-not-friends joke, it gets a little internalized. And those factors instill a mentality where she does start poking at Siffrin just to see what happens, tentatively justifying it with the fact he won’t remember. Only that gets pushed further and further, and it’s even easier to make herself push Siffrin too far, when stopping the loops is her justification. When she’s doing it for more serious reasons, the line could even change: “I’m curious to see how he reacts” -> “I need to see how he reacts”. Or something. I’m just saying words.

Yeeeeees, you got it right :)

It's hard to go to the FULL EXTREME in her poking with the whole family to keep each other in check, but Odile becomes the least likely to go '!!!' if she accidentally messes something with siffrin. And when she learns Siffrin is most definitively tied to why they are looping? Oh, it is no longer a curiosity, she needs to study how he reacts to certain things. She goes out of her way to ask people to do certain little things to siffrin and call dibs on spending the day with them (*cough* questioning and testing siffrin *cough*)

Your reward is a sneak peek of a comic that will still take some time for me to focus on/ finish~

[andiloveher]

about a girl.

tate langdon x reader | introductions

september 24, 2009.

bullshit. that word repeated in your head over and over again as you unpacked each box. california sounded like a dream. hollywood, beverly hills, everything was good in california - or so your parents made it seem.

they were hiding something, and you knew it, yet they stayed silent. you questioned their logic. their morality. why would you pick up your family and move miles away from family, and friends, and comfortability? you couldn't rack your brain around it.

it wasn't like you had a say either, if you did, you wouldn't be unpacking your clothes in the infamous "Murder House."

you never felt a certain way about ghost. you didn't own a ouija board or deep dived into seances, but you also didn't believe they weren't entirely real. the murders that occured in the house were known, by everyone, probably why your family got such a great deal on it. the murders fascinated you. how did everyone who live in this house, die here? why were all of them murders? how did all of them become murders?

your thoughts were interrupted by your mother.

"you're not done packing yet?"

you shook your head, your eyes remaining on the clothes you hung up in your closet. your bed was covered in your clothes, your jewelry packed in a large jar, your boxes on books were the only thing unpacked.

"well," your mother sighed, "your father and i are about to grab some groceries, will you be alright by yourself?"

you turned to her, "what if the ghost come get me?" you asked, sarcastically, giving her a soft grin.

she returned with her loving smile. "there should be a landline somewhere in your room, we'll be back in around an hour." she began to step out before she peeked her head back in. "oh, and watch out for the neighbor, her daughter let yourself in earlier."

you nodded, waving goodbye as she exited, listening to her feet drag down the stairs and the front door shut.

right after the door shut, you made your way over to one of the boxes, the word written across in bold letters "FRAGILE". you opened it up, being greeted by around 2 dozen CDs and your CD player. you took out the CD player, and hooked it up, your attention going back to the box to pick a disc, soon grabbing one of your favorites , nirvana's bleach album. you slid the disc in and pressed play. about a girl began to play, kurt's voice filling the silent void of your room as you continued to unpack. making your way back over to your closet, unpacking the last of your clothes. you began to tear the box down before a different voice grabbed your attention.

"is that kurt cobain?" his voice was soft, and filled with curiosity. you didn't know this voice.

you raised your head, being greeted by an unfamiliar yet.. comforting face. his eyes were as soft as his voice, yet, his pupils pierced through you, as if they were soulless. his blonde hair complimented his pale skin. he wore dark colors. you didn't realize how long you were examining him until he looked over at the CD player then back at you, waiting for a response.

"how did you get in my house?" you muttered, neglecting any greetings.

"the door was open, constance said i should say hi." he responded, his words flew off his tongue smoothly.

"constance?"

"your neighbor?"

"oh."

the fact that you hadn't spoken to anyone but your family today, flew past your mind. you forgot you have neighbors. usually you would question this. there's no way your parents left the door open. and even then, what gave him the right to walk in here? but something about him. you wanted his presence. you didn't speak out, in fear that he would leave. you still wanted answers, but you would get them another time.

you walked up closer to him, still keeping a distance. "i'm y/n." you muttered, almost like you were doing a class icebreaker.

"tate." the blonde responded, blunty. he turned back to your CD. "do you have nevermind?" he asked, referencing another nirvana album.

you nodded, taking in his facial features as he spoke. his face turned back to you. somehow, you were much closer than you thought in a matter of words. the blonde looked down at you, you began to exam you too. his eyes were dark, so dark, they almost felt comforting. the sides of his mouth soon turned upward. oh my. his smile. it seemed like he enjoyed looking at you as much as you did with him.

maybe it wouldn't be so bad here.

[yuwuta]

yuuta crumbs pls queen 😔🤲

here’s something from a fic that’s been kicking my ass as of late, it’s something i planned way back in february as a valentine’s day thing and obvs never got around to finishing it in time 😔 for context, yuuta’s been hit with a kind of cupid’s bow/lovesick curse that makes him act, well... more lovesick than usual. f2l because what's new around here

“Yuuta, stop!” 

He freezes, the tone of your voice shocking him to a complete stop—the desperation and anger in your cry reverberates through him and incites fear. Not the basal kind that makes him feel like he’s in danger; the kind born from anxiety; the kind that makes him terrified of losing you.

When he turns to you, it’s with wide, regretful eyes, and a strikingly meek demeanor, in complete contrast to his previous, eminent bloodlust. He unclenches his fist from Toge’s jacket, dropping him from his grasp to trudge towards you with laser focus.  

“Are you mad at me?” Yuuta questions, words desperate not unlike yours before, but far more rushed, and laced with an anxiety that isn’t unlike the normal Yuuta you know. He stops walking when he’s in front of you, tipping his head down slightly, leaving no room for you to look anywhere but directly at him, when he notices you trying to tip-toe to look past him to Toge, “Did I make you mad? Are you angry? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t hate me!”  

He keeps pleading with you, begging you not to hate him. You’re not sure that he even knows what he’s apologizing for, but his mantra of don’t hate me, don’t hate me—I love you—don’t hate me rings loudly in your ears. 

His reaction confuses you. Had the way you called his name struck something this despondent and regretful inside of him? Can he even feel true regret right now?—you’re certain if you hadn’t stopped him when you had, he’d have hurt Toge, but he didn’t seem sorry about injuring his friend, only for making you upset. It wasn’t like a few days ago when your mere presence could catch his attention, make him light up and wag his tail like a puppy. You had asked for Yuuta to calm down before he grabbed Toge, but he was blind to your wishes this time—it wasn’t love that was fueling his actions anymore. 

His curse didn’t make sense before, but now it’s grown even more confusing to you. You don’t have time to ponder the abnormalities any further when you start to feel Yuuta’s cursed energy bubbling around you. He’s still crying for forgiveness, clearly remorseful of his actions, but his energy doesn’t wallow with him; it grows stronger with every plea from his lips, and eventually the room feels stifling because of Yuuta’s persistence and exclamations of love for you.  

“No, no—Yuuta, I don’t hate you,” you’re careful to call his name tenderly this time, despite your hurried actions to reach and cradle his face between your palms, “I never said that. I never would.”  

Almost instantly, he seems to calm, the room feels lighter, and he stops rambling for forgiveness once he hears your words. “You… don’t hate me?”  

“No, Yuuta, I could never hate you,” you tell him, gently, endeared by how placid he’s become after a shred of reassurance—and relieved to no longer be drowning in the threat of his cursed energy, “But if you love me—”  

“I do,” he interjects, raising a hand to wrap around your wrists, tilting his head down further into your palms; and his eyes sparkle now like a little kid who’s excited to share something—eager and grounded and certain, “I do love you, not if.”  

You pause, then smile. It’s impressive how chipper he is now when he was bordering on a lovesick-induced panic attack mere seconds ago. “Well since you love me, you can’t hurt the other people I care about.”  

Yuuta frowns now, moving his hands to peel yours away from his face. He lets go of your wrists only to wrap his hands around yours instead, holding them between your bodies. “But I don’t want you to care about anybody else,” he pouts, petulant, the childlike air around him now on the verge of a tantrum, “I love you, and only you. I want you to love me, and only me, too. Isn’t that fair?”  

His words are so earnest and bold, you’re tempted to believe him this time; almost tricked into thinking Yuuta is saying this of his own volition; almost flattered by his proclamation until you remember that these are the emotions and words of a curse, and not his own.  

“I can’t not care about my friends. They care about you, too—Toge cares about you a lot, so you can’t hurt him, or anybody else, not even for me.”   

You feel him squeeze your hands as his lips turn downwards in frustration. He’s quiet for a moment, weighing his options, and you carefully scan his face, hoping your words don’t resonate the wrong way. Luckily, after a minute, a small smile crawls onto Yuuta’s lips and his head perks up before he tells you, “Okay… if… if you care, then Yuuta cares!”  

“Well, that’s not...” you pause, when Yuuta’s grin widens, eyes crinkling from his smile and you don’t have the heart to stop it, nor do you have the capacity to stop him should you trigger another episode. “You know what, yeah that works.”  

“Because I love you!” he continues, moving his hands to rest against your shoulders, now happy and sure of himself, “Do you love Yuuta, too?”  

Your head jerks slightly, leaving you looking up at him owlishly when you realize this is the first time he’s asked you that question. Up until now, the cursed version of Yuuta has put the emphasis on his love for you, unconcerned about a mutual attraction. Even just now, his concern with Toge’s potential attraction to you was a new development—and his true concern seemed to be with how he could stop it, to ensure that you only felt his love.  

Things are changing. Yuuta almost hurt someone he otherwise considers a dear friend—he’s not just playing at pure love anymore—now there’s jealousy, and fear, and a possessive nature on the table, too, and you’re not sure what to expect next. His curse is inexplicably complex, almost impossibly human. You wonder how it’s at all possible. 

You know that Shoko advised you not to feed into Yuuta’s cursed feelings too much, but right now you can hardly see the line between your Yuuta and the lovesick version of him, and you won’t wait until that border is permanently blurred. If reassurance is what it takes to keep his feelings at bay, then so be it. You’re not scared of Yuuta himself, but you fear that he might hurt himself just to seek your approval and love. You can’t let him do that, especially not when he already has it.  

“Of course I do, Yuuta,” you reply, a wobbly smile with teary eyes because now you’re pleading with him, “Please, don’t forget that.”

[bunnysrph]

—  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

"I’ve tried to hide it, but my heart betrays me every time you’re near—I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you."

"I want to be the reason you look at your phone and smile."

"Loving you is like breathing… and I’ve been holding my breath for so long, I can’t do it any longer."

"Every time I look at you, I realise I don’t want to spend another moment of my life without you."

"I don’t know how or when it happened, but you’ve completely stolen my heart."

"I used to wonder if love was real… and then you came along and made it the only thing I believe in."

"Every part of me aches to tell you how much I love you, even if it’s terrifying."

"Loving you is both the easiest and hardest thing I’ve ever done."

"I keep pretending I’m fine, but the truth is I’m in love with you, and it scares me."

"I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I had to say it—I’m in love with you."

"The truth is, every part of me belongs to you."

"I tried to deny it, tried to push it away, but I can’t—I’m hopelessly in love with you."

"You’re my first thought every morning and my last before I sleep."

"I think about you more than I’d like to admit. I think… maybe I’m in love with you."

"There’s a quiet peace in my heart every time I think of you, and it feels like love."

"I never expected to feel this way, but here I am, confessing that I’m in love with you."

"My heart races, my hands shake, and all I want to say is ‘I love you’."

"You’re the reason I believe in love, and I don’t know how to keep that to myself any longer."

"All I know is that life feels brighter, warmer, and more alive whenever I’m with you. I think I’m in love with you."

"I’ve tried to act normal, but the truth is, you’ve captured my heart."

"I think I’ve fallen in love with you, and every day I fall a little more."

"Loving you feels as natural as breathing, and it’s taken me far too long to say it."

"You’re my heart’s greatest wish, and it’s time you knew—I’m in love with you."

"I feel a warmth in my heart every time you’re near… it’s love, isn’t it?"

"I don’t know how to say it gently, so here it is: I love you. I think I always have."

"If I don’t tell you this now, I’m afraid I never will—I’m in love with you."

"There’s no one else I think about like this, no one else I feel so deeply for. It has to be love."

"I don’t need you to say it back; I just needed you to know... I’m in love with you."

"Every moment we’re together feels like magic, and that magic is love, isn’t it?"

"I’d rather risk everything and tell you the truth—I’m in love with you."

"I was fine on my own, but now that I’ve met you, I can’t imagine a life without you."

"I’d move mountains if it meant I could tell you every day how much I love you."

"Loving you feels like the most honest thing I’ve ever done."

"The truth is, my heart has belonged to you from the very first moment we met."

"I can’t promise that I won’t be afraid, but I can promise that I love you."

"Every day without you feels like a day wasted. I’m in love with you, and I want the world to know."

"If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that I love you with everything I am."

"You’ve woven yourself into my heart, and there’s no turning back—I love you."

"Loving you is like coming home to a place I never knew I missed until I met you."

"It feels like my whole life has been leading up to this moment—to tell you that I love you."

"I’m scared, I’m nervous, but more than anything, I’m in love with you."

"I didn’t know it was possible to feel so deeply until you walked into my life."

"I could search the world and never find someone who makes me feel like you do. I love you."

"I never believed in fate until I realised how perfectly you fit into my life."

"I could wait forever to say it, but I don’t want to anymore—I love you."

"Loving you feels like the answer to a question I didn’t even know I had."

"I love you, (name)."

[hwnglx]

how would sunghoon act around his crush?

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

okay, so.. for sunghoon, the definition of a crush might be different to other people. he's a longterm relationship kind of guy, and doesn't seem to like the idea or concept of casual flings. i do think he can find a superficial appreciation for attractive people more easily, than he develops true crushes. (like he'll acknowledge someone's good looks mainly out of courtesy, but wouldn't say he actually likes them, if that makes sense) it does take a very intriguing person for him to have interest in someone.

sunghoon absolutely takes his time. he's very slow-moving. something i've mentioned and noticed in several readings now. he isn't the type to just rush in and hastily approach his target, but moreso observe them from afar, really contemplate and think his actions through carefully before proceeding. i can not lie; it's kinda giving stalker lol. the page of swords often gives off this overly curious spy and stalker energy, especially considering the lack of upfront action present in a lot of the spread. he isn't the type to make his liking obvious on the outside, and it can be pretty unclear at first.

let's say you're in the same club and sunghoon spots you from the other corner of the room.. he finds you extremely alluring and intriguing. the only thing you might be able to notice is his eyes wandering to you at times, but it's unlikely he'd go up to you right away. he would watch you closely to figure you out. sunghoon would watch you talk, laugh.. he would watch where your hands wander, if someone elses hands touch you, who that person might be, (man or woman? friend? too close friend or lover?), how that person looks at you, how close you two get, how you walk, what you like to drink.. you get the drill. there's this desire here, to already know about important and defining things such as your likes and dislikes, before actually going up to you. in that way, he can make sure he appears like his most appealing self in front of you.

once sunghoon would find, or even create the perfect opportunity for you two to connect (like he's the type to personally arrange your meeting for it to be flawless.. like figure out your schedule at college and go to you during a time when you're alone), he'd want to give you this impression of being the perfect guy for you. he'd definitely prefer a more intimate setting for you two to meet or talk for the first time, as it's important for him to focus on you completely. as well as have you see, or care about no one but him in that moment. he'd think of ways to impress you, whether that's by making sure he's looking his best, or just putting himself into this position of him embodying everything you've always looked for, or needed in a person. he'd just find ways to make you believe you two are made for each other, since best believe; if sunghoon approaches you, he sincerely believes you are the one for him. like you'll embody everything he wants in a person, so he'd want to be the same for you. he might test you, see if there even is a likelihood for you to develop the same interest. he seems very clever in that way; he can just tell if someone likes him by figuring out the smaller but important clues. like your reaction to certain questions, or the way you gaze at him. (it's giving “if i like someone, just put the two of us in a room together for 15 minutes, they'll probably walk out more obsessed than me after that” lol)

i have to say though.. the longing to act on his feelings still seems more pronounced than the action itself. meaning, i can see him being very hesitant to actively approach people as of right now. as mentioned before, sunghoon acts and approaches with a lot of intent and thought behind it; he will not pursue someone if he feels like there's no future for you two, and it can't go anywhere. there seems to be this uncertainty within him, where he can dream of circumstances ideally being different, however being very aware of his inability to fully commit to the person he loves at the moment. not only due to his consistently full schedule, him always being away at some distant place, never having enough time or energy on his hands to give his lover what they deserve. but also knowing the distance would make it hard for him to keep a watch on his person, especially if you still haven't established your connection into a fully committed and stable position. “what if i'm away and they do things behind my back?” there's some trust issues he can't seem to help. i'll say it again and again; you'll rarely catch significant scorpio placements being fond of long distance. and he just seems in a position where there's no other way.

funnily enough, this is a crush reading, which moreso is a shallow and beginning-stage sort of liking; however for sunghoon that doesn't truly seem to exist. he's either fully invested in the person he set his eyes on, or completely out.

nevertheless, the spread did end interestingly; with the ace of wands and temperance. sunghoon will expect the other party to be just as invested. if he has a crush on you, but can sense a lack of interest on your side (somehow again, it feels like this is rare for him like i don't think he's ever experienced that before and doesn't believe he ever will lmaooo, he's a confident man for sure), he will not be the type to insist and chase after you. but, if he feels like the genuine interest is reciprocated, that will awaken the spark within him to keep a hold on the connection; it'll keep his passion alive. even if he's away. you just need to make him feel comfortable, like he can trust you and isn't wasting his time and effort. he does expect a lot from his partners too, and isn't the type to endlessly pour into your cup if you don't care to do the same for him.

he only puts in effort if he feels like it's worth it. he will be the type to take some time away from his busy day and reserve it for the person of his interest; but only if he thinks the person is aware of the value behind that. he's immensely self-focused and individualistic in several ways, so whoever manages to have sunghoon shift his focus on them, is not only very special, but also manages to give him this feeling of.. “this is a person worth sacrificing my own precious time for.”

[angrenwen]

They wanted anything and everything they could use in an article, even if they took things fully out of context. Even if they hounded tired and exhausted and often hurt heroes into having outbursts that later made them look unstable and aggressive to the public eye.

Inevitably, there would always be an official apology issued by the hero and their PR manager. Promises to be better and apologies that were not always necessary, gifted to a public that was as mercurial as a bored god looking for entertainment. Or like a hungry, petty little beast that delighted in seeing people struggle in order to make their own, messy lives look prettier.

'I would never make that mistake', they'd say, like they were better, like they didn't have bad days. Mean days. Terrible days. 'You'd really think someone in the public eye had thicker skin.'

Olivia was a little slumped back in her chair, knowing she was only here to show her face since PR was going to do their level best to ensure she would not have to open her mouth. She had made them regret signing her up for interviews until they had stopped, but they couldn't keep her out of the public either.

Not when she was the Number One of the heroes.

One of the younger, rising heroes beside her was downright shining with the attention of the press and his eagerness to do well, to inspire others and promise that he was going to do his best to keep everyone safe.

The press was eating it up. They loved a shiny new star they could polish up, only to later decide just what to do with that shine. Tarnish it? Put pressure on it until it dimmed and vanished? Or were they going to watch it crack under the pressure, shattering into so many pieces not even a champion puzzler could put it back together?

Another journalist was called on for a question and considering the way the guy turned to Olivia, she could tell immediately that he was going to direct his question at her. 

Journalists did that sometimes, going against previous agreements about sticking to certain questions and scripts, to certain heroes, just to speak to her and while asking her anything got them kicked out, they usually left with a new headline in their pocket.

She lived to serve the people, after all, didn't she?

"Rescue," the man said and Olivia saw the PR agent downright lunge for one of the microphones in front of the group of heroes to interrupt, but she was a tad too slow. "Do you have any advice for young and aspiring heroes?"

A rather innocent question and Olivia saw the agent pause, thinking it harmless enough. Olivia was more than aware of the other heroes glancing at her, the older ones with quelling glances and the young and energetic ones eager and hopeful.

The young heroes wanted tips on how to rise, on how to be better. They wanted to soak up the shine they thought she had, as if it hadn't dimmed and cracked and grown ugly and tarnished along the edges over the years. They wanted to be like her.

She had been like that once and while a part of her hesitated, years old but child-young at its heart, she had long since stopped being soft. Had stopped being...kind.

"Get ready to bury your friends," she answered, calm and hard and true and the PR agent reached for her microphone again with a subtle motion for her to stop, but Olivia continued, "Don't let the glam fool you, villains will do their best to break you."

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have today," the agent spoke up, gripping the microphone tighter. "Please turn to Sunshine for a parting bit of wisdom!"

Sunshine was one of the oldest heroes in the business and Olivia knew of the pills he had to swallow on a daily basis to combat his chronic pain from countless injuries sustained in his career and the anxiety attacks he had. 

The agency refused to let him retire, he was still one of their best ones and a great motivator for all the older folk to pursue their dreams – and spend money on the agency. He brought in a generous amount of cash with his hero merch and meet-n-greets.

"To add to what my colleague Rescue mentioned, you never know how long life truly lasts, so live it to your fullest. Pursue your dreams, hug your loved ones and don't forget, no matter the storm and darkness, no matter the strive and pain and fear, the sun will always shine again!"

'Nice save', Olivia couldn't help but think, not bitter or mean, because she liked Sunshine. He was genuinely good, from the tips of his curly hair down to the point of his crooked toes. His very soul was good. He was bright and a little cracked, yes, but shining still. Determined and strong. 

He was made of stronger stuff than she, she thought as she watched him light up the room, the way even the most displeased looking journalists couldn't help but smile at him.

When it came to personality, Sunshine would have long since ousted her from her spot as Number One – he and two others would be great contenders for the position.

Cheers and claps erupted and Olivia didn't bother with the bowing and waving the other heroes did as they rose from their seats. She was a walking PR nightmare and she was determined to remain that way.

For just as much as Sunshine wasn't allowed to retire, neither was she allowed to quit. If the agency didn't let her go and she had to continue to make money for them, fighting battles for them, she was going to make sure they'd regret keeping her on board as much as possible.

The PR agent threw her a viciously displeased look once everyone had gone backstage and Olivia rolled her eyes with as much disdain as she could fit into the motion. 

If the agency didn't want her to say things they didn't agree with, they shouldn't let her attend any public events. Easy as pie. 

They had to occasionally sign her up for interviews though, of course, or there was going to be talk and online spaces in particular had really ramped up the conspiracy theories in recent years. 

People who ran fan pages for heroes had already noticed that she barely said anything anymore, especially compared to when she had first started making a name for herself. 

Rescue used to be a name many people connected with an upbeat, bright hero who had an encouraging word for everyone. Who made people believe in their dreams and a brighter tomorrow.

Olivia had believed the same, before staring down at her best friend's broken body, the spilled blood, the cracked open chest with ribs poking out of skin like a grotesque scene from an over-the-top halloween movie full of gore.

She had believed it, still, right up until her other best friend had died clutching to her hand, panicked and desperate, getting crushed by the building on top of him, begging her in breathless wheezes to help him. To save him.

She dreamed of them and of Owl, her one and only sidekick, who had brought so much light back into her life, only to dangle from a villain's grasp, neck at an odd angle. He hadn't even graduated high school, he had come to work with her for the summer, hoping to become a hero once he was done with school the next year.

They had all been good and kind. Had all wanted to make the world better. But villains were relentless monsters who hunted anything bright and glowing until they could destroy it.

Olivia was about to leave with the other heroes when an alarm blared from her special watch, the little screen at her wrist lighting up with a location, the color behind the black text a bright red.

Only Sunshine's wristwatch lit up too, which let her know that a rather dangerous villain was causing trouble and they were the only two nearby who were qualified enough to deal with that person swiftly. They exchanged a quick glance and Olivia motioned that she'd take over.

Sunshine hesitated, then inclined his head. He was more than capable of going on his own, but Olivia knew that his granddaughter was visiting today. He had promised to look after the little girl for the weekend so his son and daughter-in-law could go on a little holiday. 

He had been looking forward to that for weeks now, a soft smile on his face that she hadn't seen in years.

She knew he'd have to force his family to wait if he went to battle now. He'd have to delay their plans while he wanted nothing more than to be there for his loved ones. To not disappoint them.

Olivia on the other hand had no such obligations. No pets or partners or children and her parents lived on the other side of the country, so she only saw them once or twice a year when she got her mandated time off.

She rushed to the address displayed on the wristwatch, to the location of the hero who had requested help. When she arrived she saw injured civilians dragged off to the side and trying to crawl further away, blood splattered across cracked pavement.

Alarms blared overhead, an automated and crisply pronounced voice, telling everyone to evacuate in a calm and orderly manner.

The entire street looked as though it had gotten hit by a very localized earthquake. Parts of the ground jutted up in sharp shards and broken chunks, all the windows in the surrounding houses were shattered and one smaller building stood visibly crooked, like it might collapse at any moment. 

Her surroundings looked like an unrealistic movie scene from an action flick.

There were only a handful of villains with ground-based powers and even fewer dangerous enough that she got an alert. People around her sagged with relief as she showed up, slumping as though they knew that they were safe now.

Back before she had buried her friends and sidekick, before she had clawed her way through battle after battle, crying and desperate and hurting because the villains just wouldn't stop, she would have arrived with a big smile. She would have told everyone that she was here now and that they were safe. To leave it up to her.

"Call an ambulance and try to get out of here if you can move," she instructed sharply, raising her voice to be heard over the blaring sirens. "Help others if you can."

That was the moment her colleague flew across the street, slamming into a car with enough force it dented metal and shattered glass and she knew immediately they weren't getting back up. Insignia did not have an enhanced metabolism and if their spine wasn't broken from this, Olivia would eat an entire broom.

Her powers prickled under her skin as she stepped forward, reaching over to briefly press the other button on Insignia's wristwatch, requesting immediate extraction and medical help.

"Don't move," she instructed and looked up just in time to see Colossus appear, the hulking, rather new and powerful villain stopping in his tracks upon spotting her. She gave Insignia's wrist a tiny, hopefully comforting pat. "Be right back."

Colossus moved to drag up a chunk of the earth and asphalt to shield himself, but he wasn't fast enough. 

Olivia's abilities were deemed one of the best among the heroes – and one of the hardest to train. Whatever powers her opponent had, hers changed to be their perfect opposition. 

It also meant, however, that she had to improvise on the spot when she met a villain for the first time. Figuring out how to use what abilities she had been saddled with to win often ended in extremely sloppy fights that made people question regularly why she was even considered Number One.

If her enemy had no powers to speak of, if they used technology or sheer combat skills and smarts, she could only hope that she had enough hand-to-hand training to make it.

Olivia was a trained hero, heroes were meant to protect life first and foremost, even those of villains. Heroes were meant to be the good guys after all. They were supposed to represent kindness and integrity and second chances and hope.

But Olivia had buried her friends one time too many, had once stood surrounded by dead civilians, the villain responsible taunting her while the air had been thick with the stench of blood and feces and death.

She had been told she could not leave the industry if she didn't want to be saddled with a massive amount of debt when she decided that she was done with it all. That she wanted to go home for good.

Funny how the agency never told heroes and sidekicks that any and all property damage they caused in fights, fights they could not avoid, would only be taken care of by said agency as long as they kept working for them. If she left, they'd hand her the bills.

Olivia had gotten hurt over and over by villains, had watched others get hurt over and over and she was just done with everything. If people wanted a hero like they existed in storybooks and bright, sparkly ads, she was not the person to look to for that. Not anymore.

She had a street of injured civilians to defend and a colleague unable to move, badly injured and most likely in need of immediate emergency surgery. This villain was not getting back up once she was done with him, no matter how much she'd look like a villain herself later on the news.

Colossus clearly had had a grand old time tossing an under-qualified hero around, as well as injuring helpless civilians. Nothing new here and Olivia didn't bother to hold back.

She had, once upon a time, done her best to avoid injuring villains beyond knocking them out, but when ground-pulverizing powers rose to her fingertips now, she focused on packing as much as she could into every hit.

Colossus and she had clashed once before and he had gotten away only because she hadn't quite figured out the full scope of the powers she had gotten saddled with when facing him and because he had swiftly collapsed a house on a group of terrified civilians.

Villains were nothing but a scourge of the earth.

This time, Olivia knew what she was working with and most importantly, who she was dealing with and the lengths he was willing to go to in order to win or escape.

It was clear he had expected the same slap-dash, somewhat sloppy fight from last time.

It took two hits before he was on the ground, visibly reeling, struggling and failing to sit up again. Other heroes would stop here. They were, in fact, instructed and trained to. To stop when the enemy was down and apprehend them instead. To be better than villains.

But Olivia knew how much the prison facilities struggled to contain people with superpowers, how often they escaped, especially when other villains attacked the place.

There had once been a time when Olivia had thought it didn't matter, that second chances were all the rage. She was done with that, just like she was done with fighting people over and over again because they kept escaping.

She was done with arriving at ongoing fights to find weeping and bleeding and at times dead civilians and even heroes.

Olivia raised her leg just as Colossus turned over on his hands and knees to try and get up, bringing her foot down on his back with a flare of her powers. There was no noise from his throat, not when she heard the sound his spine and ribs made and he fell still, only his chest moving in little gasping breaths. 

He would never again get back up, not after that hit and that was all that mattered at the end of the day. No more hurt civilians, no more broken colleagues. One less evil, permanently removed.

A sudden tingle raced across her skin and she flared her powers slightly, the ground-crushing sensation from before shifting to make her feel like gravity changed its course. Her gaze snapped up, just as the sky grew a deep, dark red, lightning flashing across it.

Floating above her, having managed to sneak up on her, was The End. A villain only three heroes were capable of fighting, herself included. Fuck.

Olivia didn't waste a second, letting the new power coursing under her skin flare out. She could never waste so much as a split second when faced with The End. The grip of gravity shifted within a heartbeat, like the snap of massive fingers, the noise of it cracking through the air. Just in time to slow the descend of The End's meteors and forcing them to a glowing stop right above the skyscrapers of the city.

It felt like her bones were made of metal and at the same time, as though she weighed nothing at all. She felt as though she was as liable to find herself crushed to the ground by the entire universe as she was to float away like a speck of dust on the wind.

"Little Rescue, ruiner of lives," The End shouted, fury making his voice sound like a guttural snarl as he pushed back against her powers, the sky growing darker still. 

Olivia was faintly aware of people screaming in panic behind her, ahead of her, as civilians ran for their lives. Others crawled for their lives, legs broken or bleeding from wounds inflicted by Colossus that needed immediate treatment. 

Treatment they wouldn't get, for ambulances were not allowed near active fight zones and the specialized removal teams were only sent out for severely injured heroes, not civilians. Too many paramedics had lost their lives or use of their limbs when they had gotten caught in battles.

Not that The End cared, of course. Villains never did.

Colossus at her feet was breathing in high-pitched, panting little wheezes, his body utterly unmoving.

The End had always kept his distance, but today he descended when he couldn't force his meteors further, slamming into the ground before her, his meteors crumbling to nothing and lightning started to flash like a thousand storms were getting unloading at once. 

Olivia hurriedly dodged his fist, the air around her heavy and vibrating all at once as Gravity and Space started to clash.

"What a joke this world is," The End growled. "For a monster like you to be seen as good."

"And what a joke," Olivia growled right back, dark anger and fury beating in her veins in tandem with her heart. If she could take down The End, the city would be safer for it. "That you were born."

The End's next punch was heavy with the power of impacting meteors and the empty coldness of space, lightning crackling between like a hungry beast. He laughed, brief and hard and hateful and he snarled, "Well, if you want to act like a hero, then die like one."

He unleashed his powers, nearly forcing her to her knees and she felt the pain of something cracking within her left arm.

The End was ruthless, but so was Olivia, she was sure their faces looked the same under their masks, teeth bared and sweat sliding down brows as they traded blows, booms making the ground shake. The already crooked building toppled entirely and cars got crushed against walls, street lights bending and twisting like they were made of cheap plastic.

Only when Portalia showed up did Olivia realize what The End was doing. Getting her away from his colleague Colossus so someone could save him, while doing his level best to take her out for good. 

She had no idea if he would actually murder her, the deaths he caused had always been indirect, a consequence of his powers laying waste, but that didn't mean much. Not when she knew how badly he could and would hurt her if she was just a split second too slow.

He had been training, however, moving just that tiny fraction of a moment faster than she did. For the first time, as his fingertips grazed the side of her mask, half of it shattered and she jerked back in startled alarm.

"Shit, End!" Portalia shouted in that second. "He's dead weight, get over here!"

Olivia lunged just as The End stepped back, but he had counted on that, ducking and shifting his weight and the next second his foot hit her chest with the power of a truck, sending her flying. She managed to use the powers his presence granted just in time to avoid an impact that would have left her in the ICU.

The next second, with a soundless snap, the powers were gone, as were the villains, leaving behind a thoroughly ruined street, weeping civilians and an unmoving hero. Olivia caught herself against a wall, pain crackling through her like fireworks, but she bit back a whimper and straightened to dig out a backup mask before she helped the civilians.

At least no one had died and Colossus might be out of the business for good.

*.*.*

Her arm in a sling and her body aching with bruises, Olivia wanted nothing more than to crawl home and curl up in her bed and forget today had ever happened.

The agency had taken forever to determine if enough of her face had been visible to compromise her identity, but they had eventually decided that it should be fine. If it turned out they were wrong, they had promised to deal with any of the resulting issues. 

Olivia would hardly be the first hero whose identity had gotten revealed during a fight, they had reassured her. The agency had enough experience in dealing with it and, if necessary, spinning the narrative to a hero's advantage. 

They either paid off the news to keep quiet or they stalled them enough to stage an identity reveal themselves, so any information coming out afterwards from newspapers and news shows wouldn't surprise the public anymore and instead supported the reveal.

It would be a massive problem for her personally, however, if that was the case. She wanted and needed her privacy. Once her real name was connected to her hero persona it would be possible to find out everything. Where she had gone to school, who her neighbors had been. Everything. 

If people showed up at her apartment uninvited as a result of that, she was going to make the news and not for good reasons.

Still, as much as she wanted to lie down and unwind, she really needed to go grocery shopping. Her fridge was empty and she didn't even have toast that she could slap onto a plate for a lackluster meal. 

Never mind that she was on a meal plan, just like the other heroes, to keep her in peak condition and she'd get glared into the ground by her nutritionist if she deviated from it.

The agency had taken her off the roster for a month so she could heal up, since one of the less powerful healers had fixed her enough that she'd by fine by then. The strong healers were busy trying to peace Insignia back together, who had nearly died on the way to the hospital. 

They would move on to heal the civilians after that, if only for publicity's sake. Ever since the agency had noticed just how sales went up whenever they did that, it had become a common thing after battles. 

The healers would be too drained after that to deal with her and Olivia was relieved to get some time off anyway.

While Olivia was glad the healers had gotten the go-ahead to help civilians during work hours, since many of them did volunteer work at hospitals after they clocked out, she still resented the agency.

For one, they deserved all the resentment she could give them and two, if they really cared about people, they would have made that offer far sooner.

Feeling tired and hurt, Olivia dragged herself back out of her apartment to shuffle to the nearest grocery store. Along the way she noticed her powers shifting under her skin once or twice, but she ignored it.

The last thing she wanted was to out some poor person who just wanted to enjoy their day in peace as someone with superpowers. The agency tended to hound people who had them, trying to snatch them up before other organizations could, always hungry for more names, more fame, more money.

There were far more people with powers than the public probably realized and many of them had no interest in becoming heroes. Many of them had powers that weren't useful for fighting at all as well.

And, well, if a fellow hero was somewhere out of costume, they deserved to be left alone. If it was a villain she'd sooner or later try to curb-stomp them anyway and she really didn't want to pick a fight around civilians if it could be avoided.

She didn't want to see more blood today, she didn't want to hear more screams and sobs that would follow her into her dreams, joining all the other nightmare-sounds that liked to greet her more often than not.

The agency had offered her pills for that, but Olivia had taken them only for a month before she quit. She didn't like how they made her feel and that they took away her edge, especially when she got called for an emergency in the middle of the night.

As she entered the store, she became distantly aware of her powers shifting under her skin once more and discarded it, squinting at the rows of bread to see if her favorite was still available. 

Just as she reached out, someone bumped into her arm as the person beside her tried to do the same.

"Oh, my apologies," he said and she glanced up at a tall man. He looked pretty, she noticed distractedly, his smile charming and apologetic.

Then he stilled and stared, his expression going complicated and he looked like he had no idea how to react for the longest moment. Like he was shocked and startled and she resisted the urge to frown at him. She knew there were some abrasions on her face from where her mask had gotten half shattered, so she was willing to overlook his reaction. It probably didn't look too pretty.

"It's fine," she answered, turning back to grab the bread she wanted, determined to move on. 

To her surprise, however, the pretty guy caught himself and said, "I – Sorry." He cleared his throat and seemed to catch himself, putting on a charming smile. He definitely knew that he was good looking, Olivia couldn't help but think. The smile and casual confidence said it all. "I didn't bump your hurt arm, did I?"

"You didn't see my invisible cast?" she asked while giving the side he stood on and had bumped against a dryly pointed look – her very healthy side.

He blinked and laughed briefly, a quickly smothered sound and he seemed surprised at his own reaction. "In that case, why don't you let me buy you dinner as an apology?"

Oh, he was flirting. Olivia hadn't been flirted with in forever and she knew that was her own fault. She was either working too much or, when she was off the clock, looked too sour, exhausted and angry and bitter at the world at large. He either didn't mind that or thought that she was still pretty enough to warrant a night out.

She weighed her exhaustion up against a meal and perhaps some nice company and decided she had some energy left for that. Besides, her apartment would just be glum and silent.

And if this guy wasn't pleasant to hang out with after all, at least she'd eat something before heading home. She could afford a meal outside of her meal plan. Especially if she didn't tell her nutritionist about it.

"Sure," she answered after a moment and put the bread back. Eating out would take care of her shopping for tonight and she could always come crawling back to the grocery store in the morning.

He blinked, looking like he hadn't expected her to agree so easily and then smiled like he was delighted. "Wonderful, do you want to finish up here?"

"No, we can go," she said, briefly glancing down to notice that his basket was empty as well.

"Lovely," he said with another charming smile and gestured for her to go ahead. "I'm Rhys, by the way."

"Olivia," she answered as she headed out of the grocery store with him, dodging around a couple arguing over grapes. "Do you always hit up people you've bumped into?"

"It's my main strategy," he answered easily in mock seriousness, bantering back like it was second nature and she found herself smiling a little.

Rhys made talking easy, easier than it had been in quite some time, as he led her to a small hole-in-the-wall, family run restaurant that she hadn't known was in her neighborhood. Then again, she wasn't out much.

If she was being brutally honest, she expected a nice enough conversation and a good meal and to go home with a pleasant memory. She did not expect the way Rhys and she just seemed to...click. 

From the way he appeared surprised again and again for brief moments and sometimes looked at her like she wasn't what he had expected, he felt the same way.

Dinner was one of the best meals she had ever eaten at a restaurant and she resolved to show up more often in the future. It was only her exhaustion kicking in with a vengeance that made her realize that she had sat there for far longer than intended, chatting with Rhys.

"I'm sorry to cut things short," she said, though Rhys snorted as he glanced at his wristwatch, clearly clocking how long they had sat there together as well. "But it's getting late."

"Oh, no, I'm just as much to blame," Rhys joked and raised a hand to flag the waitress down.

The check was delivered moments later and Olivia snatched it up before he could, ignoring his indignant sputtering as she paid.

"I said it would be my treat," he said and it almost sounded like a pout. It certainly made her smile.

"I guess you'll just have to take me out again, if you want to make up for it," she said and he straightened.

"You would see me again?" he asked and when she nodded, he asked, "When are you free?"

"Whenever," Olivia answered, gesturing at her injured arm. "I'm on sick leave for a month."

There was, ever so briefly, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Oh, is that so? In that case, we can meet here Friday? For dinner again?"

"Sounds good to me," Olivia answered and pulled out her phone. "Want to exchange numbers?"

They walked out of the little restaurant with new contacts in each of their phones and Olivia found herself idling on the sidewalk for a couple more minutes, saying goodbye to Rhys.

His smile was charming when he waved at her and headed the other direction, the faint, easy to ignore shifting under her skin vanishing once he was far enough away from her for her powers to settle down.

She briefly wondered what he was capable of, before she brushed those thoughts aside. It didn't matter if he could fry waffles on his palms or read a book just by touching it, it was none of her business. Besides, she was the last person who'd toss someone with powers into the unforgiving jaws of the agency.

Her belly full with good food and her mood far lighter and better than it had been before, she trudged home, greeting her neighbors who were startled to see her hurt.

"Had a biking accident," she lied easily. Her neighbors were under the impression that she was some kind of huge sports enthusiast and she never disabused them of that notion. "It was fun, though."

She left after a minute or two of conversation, keeping topics light and away from herself. It was easy by now, she knew what to ask to get her neighbors to talk about the things they liked or the things that bothered them and she kept quiet in the meantime. 

The less she told them about herself, the less she risked letting anything important or damning slip.

Her apartment was quiet and cool when she entered, smelling faintly of freshly washed laundry. Kicking off her shoes, she slumped down on the couch, only to grimace in pain as some bruises on her back flared up. 

Groping for the remote, she put on a cheerful movie, one she was familiar with so she didn't really have to pay attention to what was happening on screen.

Her phone pinged and it was Rhys, wishing her a good night. She wished him a good night as well and fell asleep minutes later with a small smile.

*..*

Olivia stared at the newspaper blankly, the front page loudly and proudly declaring that The End had been part of an attack and that none of the heroes on scene had been able to stop him.

'No one to the Rescue' the underlining headline said and she bit back a scoff. She wasn't stupid, she knew exactly what kind of less than subtle callout this was. 

There weren't many people who could confront The End and with her gone and the other two supers occupied with a huge rockslide tragedy, The End had dipped in and out undisturbed, causing chaos.

"And here I was hoping your day was going as good as mine." Rhys' voice made her look up. He joined her with a smile. "What's the frown for?" His smile dimmed a bit. "Did something happen?"

"No, it's fine," Olivia answered. There had been no casualties during The End's attack, even if three heroes were now hospitalized and a number of people had lost their livelihoods and homes and cars in the attack.

Villains just never cared about the pain and misery they caused, but what else was new.

Her mood remained a bit pensive however, even as Rhys accompanied her into the aquarium, the place he had chosen for their first date. While he purchased the tickets, Olivia sent a quick text to her mentor, asking if she was alright and how the other heroes were doing.

Her mentor had seemed more tired than usual lately, a grimness about her that didn't fade even when they met up for drinks at night. It worried her, if Olivia was being honest.

"Here," Rhys drew her out of her thoughts and she pocketed her phone, taking the ticket with a little smile and a thank you. "What has you so preoccupied today? Maybe I can help with it?"

"Distract me," Olivia requested after a moment. "It's just work."

Rhys made an understanding noise and then he did quite a thorough job of distracting her. He knew a lot about ocean life, his gaze coming alive in a way that made him look downright boyish in his joy. Like a child, being awed at the world.

It made Olivia smile and yet, at the same time, it made her realize, as they walked from exhibit to exhibit, that her own life sorely lacked in joys and fascination. It was as though her job as a hero had murdered all the innocence in her heart. 

Her inner child was a silent, wounded thing, unable to cope with the reality that people, that villains, could be so very cruel. The stories and tales she had grown up with, about goodness prevailing, felt ever more distant.

Fairytales were only just that, after all. There were no wise men in funky hats with guiding words, no kind women with helping hands, no little fairies to whisk someone away into magical worlds. Not even trolls that could be tricked with a clever riddle and who ultimately didn't really harm anyone who wasn't very foolish.

But even those thoughts Rhys could distract her from and before she knew it, he held her hand as he showed her a fish with the funniest name in the world. It made her laugh more than anything had in weeks. 

There was a curious thoughtfulness to him as he watched her laugh, but he smiled easily enough when she raised an eyebrow at him.

As they slowly headed towards the exit a good two hours later and Rhys ducked into the restroom, she swiftly entered the souvenir shop to buy him a little octopus plush. He loved the smart little ocean animals and even if she felt a little silly, the moment she presented him with it after they left the aquarium made it worth it.

"Thank you," he said, sounding genuinely touched, before he caught himself and cleared his throat. He looked quite thoughtful now and perhaps a little baffled. "That was very kind of you."

Olivia could only offer a wry little smile to that. "With all due respect, you don't know me very well yet." She looked ahead, watching a giggling group of friends as they left the aquarium as well. "I try to be kind where I can be."

Rhys' expression was still thoughtful, though something else was now lurking in his gaze that made him appear more solemn than before. "In that case I look forward to getting to know you," he said, gently holding the plush between his hands. "Would you like to eat lunch with me?"

He showed her to another hole-in-the-wall restaurant and before Olivia knew it, she had spent nearly the entire day with him. They parted ways in the setting sun, promising to meet up again, Octi, the freshly named octopus securely held in Rhys' arms.

He really was quite cute. And Rhys wasn't too bad either.

*..*

Before Olivia knew it, she met Rhys every other day. He showed her around most of the city to places she hadn't even known existed. 

He also sent her plenty of pictures of Octi in his new home, in one he was perched on the sofa as though he was intently watching a historical drama, in another he was half turned away from the fried fish Rhys had cooked as though disgusted.

It made her smile, it made her laugh. It made Olivia feel brighter, like her very heart and soul got to breathe again. It also made her less than eager to return to her job. She really wished she could quit being a hero and maybe go on a road trip. Find a house in the outskirts of the city with a nice little garden. Maybe she'd even adopt a pet.

The End, on the other hand, was absolutely making himself out to be a nuisance. It was as though he knew that she was out of commission and that the other two high-ranking heroes had to deal with a new emergency across the country. He obviously took advantage of the fact that so few other heroes could stand up to him.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Rhys said as he looked around her apartment. It was the first time she had him over and he almost seemed hesitant to be here.

There was something slightly troubled in his gaze today and she had no idea why. He hadn't mentioned any problems, aside from some arguments with coworkers.

She made a noise to let him know she was listening as she pulled out pots and pans to prepare a nice brunch. It was raining buckets today so neither of them had been in the mood to walk around for hours on one of their usual dates.

"What do you think about villains?" Rhys asked, sounding far more serious than ever before. She glanced at him over her shoulder, a frown on her face. His expression was serious as well and he was watching her like he didn't want to miss a single reaction on her end.

"Why do you ask?" Olivia answered, reluctant to open that can of worms when they had had such a nice morning so far. 

When the past almost four weeks were nothing short of...amazing, really. She did not look forward to returning to her job in five days.

"I've just been thinking recently," Rhys said and it sounded just a tad too casual. This clearly was a topic he had wanted to bring up more than once in the past. "We haven't really talked about it before."

Olivia stared down at the eggs she had wanted to fry and suddenly her appetite was gone. "I hate them," she answered honestly, not looking up from the food collected in front of her. The vegetables and fruit and bacon and cheese.

"Why?" there was a strange note in Rhys' voice, something challenging, something edged in hard wariness, but she didn't turn around to look at him. 

Maybe he had a friend or family member who had turned to villainy in the past and was worried she would judge him or them.

Granted, there were some people who called themselves villains but who were merely nuisances at best. They were labeled disturbers by the public, even if the term made them pout. 

Sidekicks were usually deployed to handle them. These people slipped in and out of prison easily enough, since most of them only got charged with public disturbance and some minor property destruction. They very rarely killed someone and usually stopped whatever they were doing the moment there were casualties.

"Do you know how many civilians a villain kills on average?" she asked, reaching for the eggs and cracking them into the pan with perhaps a little too much force, nearly crushing the eggshell into many small pieces.

Rhys was silent, as though startled and so she continued. She knew the statistics. She had seen the hospital rooms, she had checked up on victims, on people she hadn't been able to save. On civilians and colleagues who'd never be able to live normal lives again.

"Five point two per year," she answered. "And that doesn't take the injured into account. Currently, we have over a hundred people in the ICU who may never wake up. There are people who lose limbs or get paralyzed, who turn blind or deaf after an attack."

She cracked another two eggs as she spoke, her back tense and ramrod straight. "There are people who lose their livelihood, their homes and cars in attacks. Do you know how many are in life-long debt because of villains today? How many became homeless?"

"Dont," Rhys said suddenly, sounding unexpectedly choked up and startled and unsettled. "That can't be true."

Olivia's answering laugh was more a fanged bark, all aggression and pain and grim acceptance. "Call the hospitals if you don't believe me or check some of the official records that got released after attacks. Just because it's not on the news doesn't mean it doesn't happen. I know the statistics because I helped compile the data."

That revealed more than she had wanted to, so she bit back everything else she wanted to say. She bit back how she had sat with weeping and grieving people after attacks, hiding her own hurts while trying to help in what little ways she could.

She'd never forget the day a mother gripped her hands tightly, her gaze burning with a rage and grief so terrible it would have swallowed the world whole if it had a physical manifestation. 

'Please stop them,' the woman had begged in a voice so rough it had sounded like a growl. 'Just stop them, once and for all.'

She remembered burying her two best friends, her sidekick. She remembered the pain and agony of their loss, of staring at villains who did not feel sorry, not even for one second, about what they had done.

Olivia had chosen the name Rescue for herself when she had graduated from sidekick to hero, because she had wanted to help people. To give them hope. 

There was no hope she could offer in the wake of death. Only justice.

She still didn't turn around to look at him, the eggs sizzling in the pan and she reached for the bacon pack next, tearing it open with her teeth.

"Do you know the statistics for The End?" Rhys asked in a voice like he half didn't want to know. Oh, did she know his statistics. Only too well.

Olivia rattled them off easily enough and Rhys was so silent that she found herself looking back at him. He looked...horrified. To the point where she felt herself softening, tucking away her claws and teeth and helpless rage. He wasn't at fault after all. He was just a guy who had suddenly gotten whacked over the head with an ugly reality.

"It's not your fault," she said and he jolted like he wanted to protest but bit down on the words, looking even more fraught than before.

"I have to go," he said and Olivia paused in surprise. "I'm sorry. I just – I gotta. I'll call you, just..." He fumbled with his words like he didn't know how to start or finish his sentences and then he rushed out of her apartment, grabbing his shoes on his way out.

Olivia stared after him, befuddled and startled, the eggs sizzling merrily.

What had that been about?

*..*

Something weird was going on, Olivia thought as she headed into work, her arm long healed now. She didn't look forward to another day in the costume, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice. Besides, the villains weren't quite as bad anymore recently, for some strange reason.

The End had nearly vanished after being astonishingly active during her sick leave and a number of other villains had become very quiet as well. At least Rhys had called back after running out, apologizing profusely.

Something had shifted between them after that as well and while it felt like it had been for the better, like some kind of careful wall Rhys had kept up had crumbled, he also seemed troubled more often than not.

But no amount of prodding had gotten him to say anything, so Olivia had left him to it. She made sure he knew that she was there for him, but every offer just seemed to make him feel even more conflicted.

Outside of that, he was affectionate and sweet and kind and he didn't mind her strange hours or that she didn't talk about her job much. He didn't either, only complaining whenever one of his colleagues had pissed him off. 

She didn't mind, it allowed her to keep her secrets, even though she felt more and more bitter about that. The agency had a clause in their contracts that they had to be informed if a civilian found out a hero's identity and while Olivia could lie to them, it would only cause a massive headache later.

She didn't want to drag Rhys into her world, even if she knew that keeping secrets was an asshole move. She just...she wanted one part of her life that didn't get tainted by her greatest regret.

Work was grueling that day, a group of villains had banded together and while she had arrived just in time to keep them from killing anyone, she left the encounter with a massive bruise on her cheek and a sore wrist.

"You gotta take better care of yourself," her mentor murmured as she fussed over her.

It felt good, sometimes, Olivia had to admit, to just lean on her mentor a little, even if she was the stronger and higher ranking one between them. There was a sense of security whenever her mentor was around. Like things were going to be okay, somehow.

"I won't always be here," her mentor added and Olivia pressed her lips together, the gentle little feeling in her chest getting snuffed out like a candle in a strong wind. 

She didn't want to think about her mentor dying, of losing someone who had become family to her. Of losing the person who had caught her again and again countless of times, helping her back to her feet no matter how often she fell. Who had held her as she had wept over broken, unmoving bodies.

As they parted ways, Olivia made sure to hug her mentor for a long minute and the older woman didn't protest. They both knew how fragile life was, they both had buried people they had cared about. They both had lost and hurt and despaired.

Still, her mentor was a tough and crafty one, one of the few heroes who had no powers, who relied on gadgets and sheer martial prowess. Her mentor was going to be fine and even if not, she'd last long enough for Olivia or another hero to come to the rescue.

Olivia parted ways after wrangling a promise out of her mentor to meet up for drinks on the weekend and she was glad that she was meeting Rhys for dinner. On days like today she really didn't like sitting around in her silent, empty apartment.

As she headed towards the restaurant, she passed by a couple of young college students, one of them picking up a newspaper someone had left on a bench.

"Do you ever wonder if heroes are okay?" one of them asked, showing the other a headline with a picture beneath. Olivia knew the depicted scene, recognizing her costume and the hero she was dragging out of a partially collapsed building. "Like who saves our saviors, you know?"

Their friend scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, dude. Heroes save themselves, that's why they're heroes. They do the rescuing."

"I guess," the first guy muttered, dropping the newspaper into the trash.

Olivia turned away, tuning out their conversation as they talked about meeting up for studying with a group of cute students.

Rhys' smile fell when he saw her, her swollen cheek and bandaged hand and she waved him off.

"I tried kickboxing," she answered with an easy shrug. "Please get used to seeing me injured, I like trying new things every couple of weeks."

Rhys nodded, but he looked troubled still so Olivia offered her good hand and he took it, his touch so gentle it was nearly hesitant. He remained softer than ever before during the entire evening, a small frown between his brows whenever he looked at her.

He let her take him home and when he kissed her after they sat down on the couch in the dark, it was with so much care it surprised her when she felt tears prick at her eyes.

"When I met you, I had no idea you would become this important to me," he whispered as he sat in her lap, his knees bracketing her hips and her entire view was filled by him. 

They had left the lights off and so he was only illuminated by the lights of the city shining through the windows. There was something aching in his gaze.

"I..." He paused, his lips pressing together as he raised a hand to trace around her swollen cheek without touching the heated, bruised flesh. He sucked in a sharp breath when Olivia shifted her head to let her cheek rest in his palm. It hurt a little, but it was worth the way his eyes grew wide.

"You really shouldn't trust me like this," he whispered. "What if I'm terrible?"

Olivia couldn't help but laugh softly at that, letting her hands rest on his hips and giving them a little squeeze. She liked his weight on her, warm and solid and steady.

"You make my days brighter," she answered, just as softly, like this moment was a spell that raised voices could shatter. "You make me want to hope for a better tomorrow. How could you be terrible?"

She caught a glimpse of his expression crumbling ever so briefly before he leaned in to kiss her. He kissed her like she was more precious than life itself, then he kissed her like he was drowning and she was air, then he kissed her like they had all the time in the world.

She sank into it, into him, letting him sweep her along, the troubles of the day melting away to be replaced by this wondrous, beautiful moment, cradled in safe hands of the dark. Like they were two secrets that could keep each other safe from discovery.

It made it easy, almost, to bare her heart to this man, to whisper a confession against his lips that had him inhaling sharply and pressing closer. He whispered his own words of love like they were something achingly precious to be presented to her.

Rhys touched her like she was everything he wanted and everything he feared to lose and when they curled up in bed together, Olivia fell asleep with another person beside her for the first time in years.

The last thing she was aware of, was Rhys holding her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead and whispering something that sounded like a shaky, tearful apology.

*.*.*

Olivia was just about to take a bite from her lunch, her stomach rumbling, when her alarm blared, the screen of her wristwatch immediately turning an ominous red as it displayed a location.

Hissing out a curse, she hurriedly grabbed her mask and left the break room, abandoning her lunch to an uncertain fate. If she was lucky, no one had eaten it by the time she came back.

When she arrived on scene, she was breathless, but genuinely surprised to notice that comparatively little had gotten destroyed. No one seemed seriously injured either. In fact, the area was empty of civilians.

It seemed that the newest invention of Gigantor had scared them away. The prowling mech-dogs certainly kept a neat perimeter.

And right there, among his colleagues, was The End, which explained why she had gotten called in. They were robbing a bank from the looks of it and she narrowed her gaze. The End was above such plebeian things as robbing a bank, so if he and the other villains needed money they were planning something big.

"Playtime's over," she called as she leapt down from her perch, landing behind the villains and going for Gigantor first. The more she could take out as quickly as possible the better. She would not win against The End if he had backup.

The villains looked startled to see her and Gigantor crumbled with a wet gurgle, clutching his throat and wheezing for air, some of the hounds leaping forward to protect him, but they didn't seem to be on the attack otherwise, so Olivia swiftly turned to the other villains.

Portalia and Midnight were flanking The End, but they fell back when he stepped forward, turning around. Portalia grabbed Midnight's wrist and they were gone. They probably had headed inside the bank.

Only...Olivia paused as The End fell into a fighting stance, power roiling under her skin. With Portalia working with this group they shouldn't have been spotted in the first place. There certainly wouldn't have been a reason for Gigantor and his inventions to show up.

Which meant this was a distraction.

Olivia hated it when she had no idea what villains were up to and with The End being all over the place in recent months she really had no idea what to expect. Furthermore, most villains didn't team up much, so seeing this quartet together was making her gut tighten in warning.

The End lifted his hands slowly enough that it seemed strangely like he wanted to show he meant to harm. "Rescue," he said and his voice sounded different from the last time she had heard it. There was no more anger there.

He still sounded grim, but strangely hesitant as well. "If you'd let me expl-"

He ducked under her first with a curse and Olivia didn't give him the chance to speak further. She had learned very quickly to not hesitate for a second when confronted with The End. If she did, if she messed up, he'd leave the entire street destroyed. His meteors could crush so much, so much more than just concrete and steel and glass.

She'd be damned before she let it happen again on her watch. She had made that mistake once and had spent days digging people out of the rubble. Dinging corpses out of the rubble.

"Wait-" The End dodged another of her attacks and Olivia's bad feeling grew teeth that tore into her stomach. He wasn't fighting back, why wasn't he fighting back?

A blast of her powers sent him flying and he just barely kept from colliding with a wall, Space and Gravity once more clashing as he activated his powers at last to catch himself.

Gigantor was still on the ground, breathing carefully and feeling along his throat and he did not look like he was going to get up to join the fight, so Olivia followed after The End. 

It turned into a wild chase and Olivia felt baffled and ever more wary and suspicious. The End had never run from her. He had never run from anyone. He had confronted her and all heroes head on, with his powers that made the sky itself shake and the ground rumble. 

He was a force of nature contained in human flesh, capable of destruction so terrible she didn't even want to think of it. He was the storm of all storms, the rage of the universe beyond the little ball they called Earth. He was the death from above and Olivia had once prayed a little, that she'd react in time, that she'd stop him in time, to avoid dying at his hands.

He tried to speak multiple times until he gave up and by the time Olivia managed to corner him in a dead end, she was breathing hard. He was similarly out of breath, looking almost panicked at his situation.

"I don't want to fight you," he hurriedly gasped out, his chest heaving. "Please, just stop."

"I'll stop when villains do," Olivia growled back, lunging forward and missing him by a hair's breadth. 

"I'm stopping!" he shouted, cursing as he parried her blow, his strike unexpectedly lacking the force to hurt her. "Listen to me! Wai-! Olivia!"

For the first time since she had learned her lesson with The End, Olivia froze. He hurriedly backed up, reaching up to grab his mask and pulling it off. Rhys stared at her, eyes wide and beseeching and for a long second, Olivia heard nothing but the ringing in her ears.

It felt like she couldn't breathe as her world crumbled around her.

Suddenly, everything slotted into place. All the little strange moments, the oddities she had chalked up to Rhys being a person with quirks and his own past, one he didn't talk about much. The things he'd ask her, the way he had spoken sometimes, had looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention.

He had known who she had been from the very beginning. Had recognized her that day in the supermarket because he had been the one to shatter her mask to reveal a large enough part of her face.

It felt like her chest was being squeezed tight, so tight she had no idea how she kept drawing breath and her throat felt thick and tight, a scream and a sob so tangled together they turned into a ball of pain that held her voice captive.

"You knew," she rasped out just as The End – as Rhys, her Rhys, her kind and sweet and charming and funny Rhys, who had kept sending her pictures of Octi in various situations to make her laugh, who had brightened her entire world with nothing but lies – took a hesitant step towards her. "You knew all this time."

"I did," he answered, voice soft and cracking around the edges like he was holding back his own emotions.

Olivia found herself falling back a step before she caught herself. Her mind began to race, her emotions turning into a storm that tore up her insides, stripping layers off her bones and flaying her heart and for just a second her eyes welled with tears before she forced them down.

"How clever," she whispered and a terrible laugh scraped out of her throat, raw and awful and sharp like shards of glass. "How very clever."

Of course Rhys had wanted to keep talking to her. Of course he had laid the charm on thick, of course he had done everything to keep her around. Her, the Number One hero. How much information had she given him without meaning to? 

Had he looked at her phone whenever she had fallen asleep around him, foolishly, naively trusting him? Had he looked at her laptop whenever she had taken a shower? Had he found out the few identities she knew of other heroes? Was her mentor still safe?

Suddenly his massive activity period during her sick leave made an awful lot of sense. He had known she wouldn't be there and with the other two heroes being all over the news, taking care of terrible messes, he had known no one else would stop him.

"No, it's not like that," Rhys said, taking a step forward again, only to cringe. "It was at first, but I promise you, I meant everything I said."

"I don't believe you." The words dripped like acid from her tongue and they made him flinch back, his expression nothing but pain and regret and suddenly it made her so very angry.

What gave him the right to look at her like that when he had betrayed her? When he had just broken her heart into thousands of tiny pieces, crushing her dreams of the future. She had dreamed of revealing the truth to him eventually, of asking him to move in with her.

Olivia had no idea what to do, she had no idea what she would have done, if Portalia hadn't shown up and grabbed The End, vanishing with him before he could pull free of her grasp, his other hand reaching out to her.

Olivia stood there for a long minute, viciously biting down on the sobs that crawled up her throat like moaning ghosts. 

And here she had thought she had crushed all her naive, innocent hopes and dreams to pieces long ago. All her bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ideas of a better future.

But Rhys had found the last little piece of her that had remained untouched and he had turned it into a mangled, bleeding mess.

She'd think he was doing her a favor if it didn't hurt so very, very terribly.

She shifted to leave, her mind churning, when her phone pinged and she received a message from Sunshine, telling her that her mentor had gotten caught up in a fight across the city. That she has gotten hurt very badly. They had no idea if she'd make it.

*.*.*

Olivia sat beside the hospital bed, staring down at her phone, re-watching the fight between her mentor and Life Eater a third time. The fight had only gotten recorded in fragmented pieces, cobbled together by whatever nearby cameras had survived during the battle.

There was something off about it. Something wrong about how her mentor moved. And yet, there was something eerily familiar about it, like Olivia had seen it before.

Olivia had trained beside her mentor for years, still sparred with her some days. They spent at least one evening of the week together, going drinking and eating and sometimes Sunshine tagged along outside of costume, trusting her to keep her mouth shut about his identity.

But things had been just ever so slightly off for a while now and it took Olivia a fourth re-watch for things to finally click. She had seen fights like these in the past, far and few between, but all the more tragic for it.

Those were the type of fights where a hero had given up. It was an Out fight. A last, final fight. Some heroes weren't even aware of what they were doing, but Olivia's mentor had always been too sharp for something like that. Had always been too self-aware.

Olivia stared at her mentor, at the bandages that seemed to cover almost all of her body. It had been a close thing, she had nearly died on the operation table and it had taken the doctors and healers hours to save her.

Olivia had spent the night in an uncomfortable hospital chair and had only recently been allowed to visit her mentor, to sit vigil at her bedside in the private wing of the hospital reserved for heroes. She hadn't even shucked her costume yet.

Her mind felt strangely empty, her chest tight and she closed her eyes for a long minute, feeling...wrung out. Angry. Exhausted beyond her physical body. A part of her grieved, a part of her raged and no side got the upper hand, leaving her hanging between them and so, so very done with everything.

When her mentor finally opened her eyes, Olivia waited until her gaze cleared enough, until their gazes met, before she opened her mouth, "Why?"

Her mentor closed her eyes again, suddenly looking so, so much older. And so very exhausted. So very brittle. It was a startling, almost frightening sight. To know that the one person Olivia had always been able to lean on seemed more like a husk than a person in this moment.

"I'm tired, kid," her mentor rasped and Olivia knew it would have been easy to chalk her words up to the current situation. The injuries, the hazy consciousness. But she knew better.

She knew the system they were in so very well, that it would not let them go until they were dead. That her mentor, like Olivia herself, had wanted to leave a long time ago.

"I'm done, kid," her mentor whispered, words slurring and then she seemed to have fallen asleep again.

Olivia stared at her mentor, her fists tightening as she replayed her mentor's words. She knew what her mentor meant, how tired she was of this life. Of being unable to escape it.

Stuck being heroes, stuck at the agency. Stuck in a life they had once chosen because they had been so very good. Because they had believed in that same goodness being present in the rest of the world.

Olivia had once thought that that goodness just needed a little saving, a little protecting. A little dusting off and guarding. 

Until her hands had been stained red over and over again. Until she had asked the agency to leave and had been told of the ruin that awaited her if she walked out.

Olivia stared at her mentor, watched her chest rise and fall and the push and pull of emotions within her shifted as the grief was swamped by anger so encompassing and acidic and dark it felt like a growling beast that snapped vicious teeth around her heart, swallowing it whole.

For a second she couldn't breathe, felt like despair was going to twine around the rage like a toxic lover, clinging and refusing to let go, her mind churning, until a thought clicked in place and suddenly she could breathe again.

She knew what she had to do. 

Something rose in her heart, something that refused to stay down no matter how hard it had gotten hit before. It was too bloody to be called hope, too gritty to be idealistic and too angry to be anything remotely heroic.

'I'm so done, kid.'

'Like, who saves our saviors, you know?'

'Don't be ridiculous, dude. Heroes save themselves, that's why they're heroes. They do the rescuing.'

'If you think you're a hero, then die like one.'

Very well then.

*.*.*

@laureleikirsch @honeyrydernot @those-damn-snippets @the-cash-cache @basilikum7

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@queenofbooknerds @labelleizzy @fern-writes-whump @bexterbaileyw @setsailforthestars

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@permanentlydepressedpigeon @tama-on-vetta @marateleam @transparentdiplomatlandgoth @aprilraine

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@cheesecakev2 @myst3rious-figur3 @warriorofbooks @pigeonwhumps @sillypeachduck

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@dracanea @fractalabomination"

Paint the Town

(warnings ahead for semi-graphic violence, mentioned and implied death, as well as implied suicidal ideation from a side character, please be sure to take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

Part One: Woe to the People of Order

*.*.*

Cameras flashed to a blinding degree, journalists cramped together in numerous seats, leaning forward like a hungry sea, wanting to drag all the heroes within sight under the surface. To peel back every layer until they could unearth secrets and unspoken thoughts, all the things they could use for their next headline, their next big hit to sell millions of papers to impressionable people. 

To people who wanted to see heroes fall as much as they wanted to see them rise.

'The press is not your friend', Olivia's mentor had told her on her first day as a sidekick, the two of them getting ready for their first patrol. She remembered that she had been so nervous her mentor had to help her into her gear. 'Never make the mistake of thinking otherwise. Failure is more delicious to them than success.'

It was one of three lessons that had saved Olivia's hide more times than she could count. Journalists and paparazzi could be quite charming, quite friendly, they had different tactics for different heroes, trying to weasel statements or just a wayward word out of them. Even a hero's silence was something to be used.

They wanted anything and everything they could use in an article, even if they took things fully out of context. Even if they hounded tired and exhausted and often hurt heroes into having outbursts that later made them look unstable and aggressive to the public eye.

Inevitably, there would always be an official apology issued by the hero and their PR manager. Promises to be better and apologies that were not always necessary, gifted to a public that was as mercurial as a bored god looking for entertainment. Or like a hungry, petty little beast that delighted in seeing people struggle in order to make their own, messy lives look prettier.

'I would never make that mistake', they'd say, like they were better, like they didn't have bad days. Mean days. Terrible days. 'You'd really think someone in the public eye had thicker skin.'

Olivia was a little slumped back in her chair, knowing she was only here to show her face since PR was going to do their level best to ensure she would not have to open her mouth. She had made them regret signing her up for interviews until they had stopped, but they couldn't keep her out of the public either.

Not when she was the Number One of the heroes.

One of the younger, rising heroes beside her was downright shining with the attention of the press and his eagerness to do well, to inspire others and promise that he was going to do his best to keep everyone safe.

The press was eating it up. They loved a shiny new star they could polish up, only to later decide just what to do with that shine. Tarnish it? Put pressure on it until it dimmed and vanished? Or were they going to watch it crack under the pressure, shattering into so many pieces not even a champion puzzler could put it back together?

Another journalist was called on for a question and considering the way the guy turned to Olivia, she could tell immediately that he was going to direct his question at her. 

Journalists did that sometimes, going against previous agreements about sticking to certain questions and scripts, to certain heroes, just to speak to her and while asking her anything got them kicked out, they usually left with a new headline in their pocket.

She lived to serve the people, after all, didn't she?

"Rescue," the man said and Olivia saw the PR agent downright lunge for one of the microphones in front of the group of heroes to interrupt, but she was a tad too slow. "Do you have any advice for young and aspiring heroes?"

A rather innocent question and Olivia saw the agent pause, thinking it harmless enough. Olivia was more than aware of the other heroes glancing at her, the older ones with quelling glances and the young and energetic ones eager and hopeful.

The young heroes wanted tips on how to rise, on how to be better. They wanted to soak up the shine they thought she had, as if it hadn't dimmed and cracked and grown ugly and tarnished along the edges over the years. They wanted to be like her.

She had been like that once and while a part of her hesitated, years old but child-young at its heart, she had long since stopped being soft. Had stopped being...kind.

"Get ready to bury your friends," she answered, calm and hard and true and the PR agent reached for her microphone again with a subtle motion for her to stop, but Olivia continued, "Don't let the glam fool you, villains will do their best to break you."

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have today," the agent spoke up, gripping the microphone tighter. "Please turn to Sunshine for a parting bit of wisdom!"

Sunshine was one of the oldest heroes in the business and Olivia knew of the pills he had to swallow on a daily basis to combat his chronic pain from countless injuries sustained in his career and the anxiety attacks he had. 

The agency refused to let him retire, he was still one of their best ones and a great motivator for all the older folk to pursue their dreams – and spend money on the agency. He brought in a generous amount of cash with his hero merch and meet-n-greets.

"To add to what my colleague Rescue mentioned, you never know how long life truly lasts, so live it to your fullest. Pursue your dreams, hug your loved ones and don't forget, no matter the storm and darkness, no matter the strive and pain and fear, the sun will always shine again!"

'Nice save', Olivia couldn't help but think, not bitter or mean, because she liked Sunshine. He was genuinely good, from the tips of his curly hair down to the point of his crooked toes. His very soul was good. He was bright and a little cracked, yes, but shining still. Determined and strong. 

He was made of stronger stuff than she, she thought as she watched him light up the room, the way even the most displeased looking journalists couldn't help but smile at him.

When it came to personality, Sunshine would have long since ousted her from her spot as Number One – he and two others would be great contenders for the position.

Cheers and claps erupted and Olivia didn't bother with the bowing and waving the other heroes did as they rose from their seats. She was a walking PR nightmare and she was determined to remain that way.

For just as much as Sunshine wasn't allowed to retire, neither was she allowed to quit. If the agency didn't let her go and she had to continue to make money for them, fighting battles for them, she was going to make sure they'd regret keeping her on board as much as possible.

The PR agent threw her a viciously displeased look once everyone had gone backstage and Olivia rolled her eyes with as much disdain as she could fit into the motion. 

If the agency didn't want her to say things they didn't agree with, they shouldn't let her attend any public events. Easy as pie. 

They had to occasionally sign her up for interviews though, of course, or there was going to be talk and online spaces in particular had really ramped up the conspiracy theories in recent years. 

People who ran fan pages for heroes had already noticed that she barely said anything anymore, especially compared to when she had first started making a name for herself. 

Rescue used to be a name many people connected with an upbeat, bright hero who had an encouraging word for everyone. Who made people believe in their dreams and a brighter tomorrow.

Olivia had believed the same, before staring down at her best friend's broken body, the spilled blood, the cracked open chest with ribs poking out of skin like a grotesque scene from an over-the-top halloween movie full of gore.

She had believed it, still, right up until her other best friend had died clutching to her hand, panicked and desperate, getting crushed by the building on top of him, begging her in breathless wheezes to help him. To save him.

She dreamed of them and of Owl, her one and only sidekick, who had brought so much light back into her life, only to dangle from a villain's grasp, neck at an odd angle. He hadn't even graduated high school, he had come to work with her for the summer, hoping to become a hero once he was done with school the next year.

They had all been good and kind. Had all wanted to make the world better. But villains were relentless monsters who hunted anything bright and glowing until they could destroy it.

Olivia was about to leave with the other heroes when an alarm blared from her special watch, the little screen at her wrist lighting up with a location, the color behind the black text a bright red.

Only Sunshine's wristwatch lit up too, which let her know that a rather dangerous villain was causing trouble and they were the only two nearby who were qualified enough to deal with that person swiftly. They exchanged a quick glance and Olivia motioned that she'd take over.

Sunshine hesitated, then inclined his head. He was more than capable of going on his own, but Olivia knew that his granddaughter was visiting today. He had promised to look after the little girl for the weekend so his son and daughter-in-law could go on a little holiday. 

He had been looking forward to that for weeks now, a soft smile on his face that she hadn't seen in years.

She knew he'd have to force his family to wait if he went to battle now. He'd have to delay their plans while he wanted nothing more than to be there for his loved ones. To not disappoint them.

Olivia on the other hand had no such obligations. No pets or partners or children and her parents lived on the other side of the country, so she only saw them once or twice a year when she got her mandated time off.

She rushed to the address displayed on the wristwatch, to the location of the hero who had requested help. When she arrived she saw injured civilians dragged off to the side and trying to crawl further away, blood splattered across cracked pavement.

Alarms blared overhead, an automated and crisply pronounced voice, telling everyone to evacuate in a calm and orderly manner.

The entire street looked as though it had gotten hit by a very localized earthquake. Parts of the ground jutted up in sharp shards and broken chunks, all the windows in the surrounding houses were shattered and one smaller building stood visibly crooked, like it might collapse at any moment. 

Her surroundings looked like an unrealistic movie scene from an action flick.

There were only a handful of villains with ground-based powers and even fewer dangerous enough that she got an alert. People around her sagged with relief as she showed up, slumping as though they knew that they were safe now.

Back before she had buried her friends and sidekick, before she had clawed her way through battle after battle, crying and desperate and hurting because the villains just wouldn't stop, she would have arrived with a big smile. She would have told everyone that she was here now and that they were safe. To leave it up to her.

"Call an ambulance and try to get out of here if you can move," she instructed sharply, raising her voice to be heard over the blaring sirens. "Help others if you can."

That was the moment her colleague flew across the street, slamming into a car with enough force it dented metal and shattered glass and she knew immediately they weren't getting back up. Insignia did not have an enhanced metabolism and if their spine wasn't broken from this, Olivia would eat an entire broom.

Her powers prickled under her skin as she stepped forward, reaching over to briefly press the other button on Insignia's wristwatch, requesting immediate extraction and medical help.

"Don't move," she instructed and looked up just in time to see Colossus appear, the hulking, rather new and powerful villain stopping in his tracks upon spotting her. She gave Insignia's wrist a tiny, hopefully comforting pat. "Be right back."

Colossus moved to drag up a chunk of the earth and asphalt to shield himself, but he wasn't fast enough. 

Olivia's abilities were deemed one of the best among the heroes – and one of the hardest to train. Whatever powers her opponent had, hers changed to be their perfect opposition. 

It also meant, however, that she had to improvise on the spot when she met a villain for the first time. Figuring out how to use what abilities she had been saddled with to win often ended in extremely sloppy fights that made people question regularly why she was even considered Number One.

If her enemy had no powers to speak of, if they used technology or sheer combat skills and smarts, she could only hope that she had enough hand-to-hand training to make it.

Olivia was a trained hero, heroes were meant to protect life first and foremost, even those of villains. Heroes were meant to be the good guys after all. They were supposed to represent kindness and integrity and second chances and hope.

But Olivia had buried her friends one time too many, had once stood surrounded by dead civilians, the villain responsible taunting her while the air had been thick with the stench of blood and feces and death.

She had been told she could not leave the industry if she didn't want to be saddled with a massive amount of debt when she decided that she was done with it all. That she wanted to go home for good.

Funny how the agency never told heroes and sidekicks that any and all property damage they caused in fights, fights they could not avoid, would only be taken care of by said agency as long as they kept working for them. If she left, they'd hand her the bills.

Olivia had gotten hurt over and over by villains, had watched others get hurt over and over and she was just done with everything. If people wanted a hero like they existed in storybooks and bright, sparkly ads, she was not the person to look to for that. Not anymore.

She had a street of injured civilians to defend and a colleague unable to move, badly injured and most likely in need of immediate emergency surgery. This villain was not getting back up once she was done with him, no matter how much she'd look like a villain herself later on the news.

Colossus clearly had had a grand old time tossing an under-qualified hero around, as well as injuring helpless civilians. Nothing new here and Olivia didn't bother to hold back.

She had, once upon a time, done her best to avoid injuring villains beyond knocking them out, but when ground-pulverizing powers rose to her fingertips now, she focused on packing as much as she could into every hit.

Colossus and she had clashed once before and he had gotten away only because she hadn't quite figured out the full scope of the powers she had gotten saddled with when facing him and because he had swiftly collapsed a house on a group of terrified civilians.

Villains were nothing but a scourge of the earth.

This time, Olivia knew what she was working with and most importantly, who she was dealing with and the lengths he was willing to go to in order to win or escape.

It was clear he had expected the same slap-dash, somewhat sloppy fight from last time.

It took two hits before he was on the ground, visibly reeling, struggling and failing to sit up again. Other heroes would stop here. They were, in fact, instructed and trained to. To stop when the enemy was down and apprehend them instead. To be better than villains.

But Olivia knew how much the prison facilities struggled to contain people with superpowers, how often they escaped, especially when other villains attacked the place.

There had once been a time when Olivia had thought it didn't matter, that second chances were all the rage. She was done with that, just like she was done with fighting people over and over again because they kept escaping.

She was done with arriving at ongoing fights to find weeping and bleeding and at times dead civilians and even heroes.

Olivia raised her leg just as Colossus turned over on his hands and knees to try and get up, bringing her foot down on his back with a flare of her powers. There was no noise from his throat, not when she heard the sound his spine and ribs made and he fell still, only his chest moving in little gasping breaths. 

He would never again get back up, not after that hit and that was all that mattered at the end of the day. No more hurt civilians, no more broken colleagues. One less evil, permanently removed.

A sudden tingle raced across her skin and she flared her powers slightly, the ground-crushing sensation from before shifting to make her feel like gravity changed its course. Her gaze snapped up, just as the sky grew a deep, dark red, lightning flashing across it.

Floating above her, having managed to sneak up on her, was The End. A villain only three heroes were capable of fighting, herself included. Fuck.

Olivia didn't waste a second, letting the new power coursing under her skin flare out. She could never waste so much as a split second when faced with The End. The grip of gravity shifted within a heartbeat, like the snap of massive fingers, the noise of it cracking through the air. Just in time to slow the descend of The End's meteors and forcing them to a glowing stop right above the skyscrapers of the city.

It felt like her bones were made of metal and at the same time, as though she weighed nothing at all. She felt as though she was as liable to find herself crushed to the ground by the entire universe as she was to float away like a speck of dust on the wind.

"Little Rescue, ruiner of lives," The End shouted, fury making his voice sound like a guttural snarl as he pushed back against her powers, the sky growing darker still. 

Olivia was faintly aware of people screaming in panic behind her, ahead of her, as civilians ran for their lives. Others crawled for their lives, legs broken or bleeding from wounds inflicted by Colossus that needed immediate treatment. 

Treatment they wouldn't get, for ambulances were not allowed near active fight zones and the specialized removal teams were only sent out for severely injured heroes, not civilians. Too many paramedics had lost their lives or use of their limbs when they had gotten caught in battles.

Not that The End cared, of course. Villains never did.

Colossus at her feet was breathing in high-pitched, panting little wheezes, his body utterly unmoving.

The End had always kept his distance, but today he descended when he couldn't force his meteors further, slamming into the ground before her, his meteors crumbling to nothing and lightning started to flash like a thousand storms were getting unloading at once. 

Olivia hurriedly dodged his fist, the air around her heavy and vibrating all at once as Gravity and Space started to clash.

"What a joke this world is," The End growled. "For a monster like you to be seen as good."

"And what a joke," Olivia growled right back, dark anger and fury beating in her veins in tandem with her heart. If she could take down The End, the city would be safer for it. "That you were born."

The End's next punch was heavy with the power of impacting meteors and the empty coldness of space, lightning crackling between like a hungry beast. He laughed, brief and hard and hateful and he snarled, "Well, if you want to act like a hero, then die like one."

He unleashed his powers, nearly forcing her to her knees and she felt the pain of something cracking within her left arm.

The End was ruthless, but so was Olivia, she was sure their faces looked the same under their masks, teeth bared and sweat sliding down brows as they traded blows, booms making the ground shake. The already crooked building toppled entirely and cars got crushed against walls, street lights bending and twisting like they were made of cheap plastic.

Only when Portalia showed up did Olivia realize what The End was doing. Getting her away from his colleague Colossus so someone could save him, while doing his level best to take her out for good. 

She had no idea if he would actually murder her, the deaths he caused had always been indirect, a consequence of his powers laying waste, but that didn't mean much. Not when she knew how badly he could and would hurt her if she was just a split second too slow.

He had been training, however, moving just that tiny fraction of a moment faster than she did. For the first time, as his fingertips grazed the side of her mask, half of it shattered and she jerked back in startled alarm.

"Shit, End!" Portalia shouted in that second. "He's dead weight, get over here!"

Olivia lunged just as The End stepped back, but he had counted on that, ducking and shifting his weight and the next second his foot hit her chest with the power of a truck, sending her flying. She managed to use the powers his presence granted just in time to avoid an impact that would have left her in the ICU.

The next second, with a soundless snap, the powers were gone, as were the villains, leaving behind a thoroughly ruined street, weeping civilians and an unmoving hero. Olivia caught herself against a wall, pain crackling through her like fireworks, but she bit back a whimper and straightened to dig out a backup mask before she helped the civilians.

At least no one had died and Colossus might be out of the business for good.

*.*.*

Her arm in a sling and her body aching with bruises, Olivia wanted nothing more than to crawl home and curl up in her bed and forget today had ever happened.

The agency had taken forever to determine if enough of her face had been visible to compromise her identity, but they had eventually decided that it should be fine. If it turned out they were wrong, they had promised to deal with any of the resulting issues. 

Olivia would hardly be the first hero whose identity had gotten revealed during a fight, they had reassured her. The agency had enough experience in dealing with it and, if necessary, spinning the narrative to a hero's advantage. 

They either paid off the news to keep quiet or they stalled them enough to stage an identity reveal themselves, so any information coming out afterwards from newspapers and news shows wouldn't surprise the public anymore and instead supported the reveal.

It would be a massive problem for her personally, however, if that was the case. She wanted and needed her privacy. Once her real name was connected to her hero persona it would be possible to find out everything. Where she had gone to school, who her neighbors had been. Everything. 

If people showed up at her apartment uninvited as a result of that, she was going to make the news and not for good reasons.

Still, as much as she wanted to lie down and unwind, she really needed to go grocery shopping. Her fridge was empty and she didn't even have toast that she could slap onto a plate for a lackluster meal. 

Never mind that she was on a meal plan, just like the other heroes, to keep her in peak condition and she'd get glared into the ground by her nutritionist if she deviated from it.

The agency had taken her off the roster for a month so she could heal up, since one of the less powerful healers had fixed her enough that she'd by fine by then. The strong healers were busy trying to peace Insignia back together, who had nearly died on the way to the hospital. 

They would move on to heal the civilians after that, if only for publicity's sake. Ever since the agency had noticed just how sales went up whenever they did that, it had become a common thing after battles. 

The healers would be too drained after that to deal with her and Olivia was relieved to get some time off anyway.

While Olivia was glad the healers had gotten the go-ahead to help civilians during work hours, since many of them did volunteer work at hospitals after they clocked out, she still resented the agency.

For one, they deserved all the resentment she could give them and two, if they really cared about people, they would have made that offer far sooner.

Feeling tired and hurt, Olivia dragged herself back out of her apartment to shuffle to the nearest grocery store. Along the way she noticed her powers shifting under her skin once or twice, but she ignored it.

The last thing she wanted was to out some poor person who just wanted to enjoy their day in peace as someone with superpowers. The agency tended to hound people who had them, trying to snatch them up before other organizations could, always hungry for more names, more fame, more money.

There were far more people with powers than the public probably realized and many of them had no interest in becoming heroes. Many of them had powers that weren't useful for fighting at all as well.

And, well, if a fellow hero was somewhere out of costume, they deserved to be left alone. If it was a villain she'd sooner or later try to curb-stomp them anyway and she really didn't want to pick a fight around civilians if it could be avoided.

She didn't want to see more blood today, she didn't want to hear more screams and sobs that would follow her into her dreams, joining all the other nightmare-sounds that liked to greet her more often than not.

The agency had offered her pills for that, but Olivia had taken them only for a month before she quit. She didn't like how they made her feel and that they took away her edge, especially when she got called for an emergency in the middle of the night.

As she entered the store, she became distantly aware of her powers shifting under her skin once more and discarded it, squinting at the rows of bread to see if her favorite was still available. 

Just as she reached out, someone bumped into her arm as the person beside her tried to do the same.

"Oh, my apologies," he said and she glanced up at a tall man. He looked pretty, she noticed distractedly, his smile charming and apologetic.

Then he stilled and stared, his expression going complicated and he looked like he had no idea how to react for the longest moment. Like he was shocked and startled and she resisted the urge to frown at him. She knew there were some abrasions on her face from where her mask had gotten half shattered, so she was willing to overlook his reaction. It probably didn't look too pretty.

"It's fine," she answered, turning back to grab the bread she wanted, determined to move on. 

To her surprise, however, the pretty guy caught himself and said, "I – Sorry." He cleared his throat and seemed to catch himself, putting on a charming smile. He definitely knew that he was good looking, Olivia couldn't help but think. The smile and casual confidence said it all. "I didn't bump your hurt arm, did I?"

"You didn't see my invisible cast?" she asked while giving the side he stood on and had bumped against a dryly pointed look – her very healthy side.

He blinked and laughed briefly, a quickly smothered sound and he seemed surprised at his own reaction. "In that case, why don't you let me buy you dinner as an apology?"

Oh, he was flirting. Olivia hadn't been flirted with in forever and she knew that was her own fault. She was either working too much or, when she was off the clock, looked too sour, exhausted and angry and bitter at the world at large. He either didn't mind that or thought that she was still pretty enough to warrant a night out.

She weighed her exhaustion up against a meal and perhaps some nice company and decided she had some energy left for that. Besides, her apartment would just be glum and silent.

And if this guy wasn't pleasant to hang out with after all, at least she'd eat something before heading home. She could afford a meal outside of her meal plan. Especially if she didn't tell her nutritionist about it.

"Sure," she answered after a moment and put the bread back. Eating out would take care of her shopping for tonight and she could always come crawling back to the grocery store in the morning.

He blinked, looking like he hadn't expected her to agree so easily and then smiled like he was delighted. "Wonderful, do you want to finish up here?"

"No, we can go," she said, briefly glancing down to notice that his basket was empty as well.

"Lovely," he said with another charming smile and gestured for her to go ahead. "I'm Rhys, by the way."

"Olivia," she answered as she headed out of the grocery store with him, dodging around a couple arguing over grapes. "Do you always hit up people you've bumped into?"

"It's my main strategy," he answered easily in mock seriousness, bantering back like it was second nature and she found herself smiling a little.

Rhys made talking easy, easier than it had been in quite some time, as he led her to a small hole-in-the-wall, family run restaurant that she hadn't known was in her neighborhood. Then again, she wasn't out much.

If she was being brutally honest, she expected a nice enough conversation and a good meal and to go home with a pleasant memory. She did not expect the way Rhys and she just seemed to...click. 

From the way he appeared surprised again and again for brief moments and sometimes looked at her like she wasn't what he had expected, he felt the same way.

Dinner was one of the best meals she had ever eaten at a restaurant and she resolved to show up more often in the future. It was only her exhaustion kicking in with a vengeance that made her realize that she had sat there for far longer than intended, chatting with Rhys.

"I'm sorry to cut things short," she said, though Rhys snorted as he glanced at his wristwatch, clearly clocking how long they had sat there together as well. "But it's getting late."

"Oh, no, I'm just as much to blame," Rhys joked and raised a hand to flag the waitress down.

The check was delivered moments later and Olivia snatched it up before he could, ignoring his indignant sputtering as she paid.

"I said it would be my treat," he said and it almost sounded like a pout. It certainly made her smile.

"I guess you'll just have to take me out again, if you want to make up for it," she said and he straightened.

"You would see me again?" he asked and when she nodded, he asked, "When are you free?"

"Whenever," Olivia answered, gesturing at her injured arm. "I'm on sick leave for a month."

There was, ever so briefly, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Oh, is that so? In that case, we can meet here Friday? For dinner again?"

"Sounds good to me," Olivia answered and pulled out her phone. "Want to exchange numbers?"

They walked out of the little restaurant with new contacts in each of their phones and Olivia found herself idling on the sidewalk for a couple more minutes, saying goodbye to Rhys.

His smile was charming when he waved at her and headed the other direction, the faint, easy to ignore shifting under her skin vanishing once he was far enough away from her for her powers to settle down.

She briefly wondered what he was capable of, before she brushed those thoughts aside. It didn't matter if he could fry waffles on his palms or read a book just by touching it, it was none of her business. Besides, she was the last person who'd toss someone with powers into the unforgiving jaws of the agency.

Her belly full with good food and her mood far lighter and better than it had been before, she trudged home, greeting her neighbors who were startled to see her hurt.

"Had a biking accident," she lied easily. Her neighbors were under the impression that she was some kind of huge sports enthusiast and she never disabused them of that notion. "It was fun, though."

She left after a minute or two of conversation, keeping topics light and away from herself. It was easy by now, she knew what to ask to get her neighbors to talk about the things they liked or the things that bothered them and she kept quiet in the meantime. 

The less she told them about herself, the less she risked letting anything important or damning slip.

Her apartment was quiet and cool when she entered, smelling faintly of freshly washed laundry. Kicking off her shoes, she slumped down on the couch, only to grimace in pain as some bruises on her back flared up. 

Groping for the remote, she put on a cheerful movie, one she was familiar with so she didn't really have to pay attention to what was happening on screen.

Her phone pinged and it was Rhys, wishing her a good night. She wished him a good night as well and fell asleep minutes later with a small smile.

*..*

Olivia stared at the newspaper blankly, the front page loudly and proudly declaring that The End had been part of an attack and that none of the heroes on scene had been able to stop him.

'No one to the Rescue' the underlining headline said and she bit back a scoff. She wasn't stupid, she knew exactly what kind of less than subtle callout this was. 

There weren't many people who could confront The End and with her gone and the other two supers occupied with a huge rockslide tragedy, The End had dipped in and out undisturbed, causing chaos.

"And here I was hoping your day was going as good as mine." Rhys' voice made her look up. He joined her with a smile. "What's the frown for?" His smile dimmed a bit. "Did something happen?"

"No, it's fine," Olivia answered. There had been no casualties during The End's attack, even if three heroes were now hospitalized and a number of people had lost their livelihoods and homes and cars in the attack.

Villains just never cared about the pain and misery they caused, but what else was new.

Her mood remained a bit pensive however, even as Rhys accompanied her into the aquarium, the place he had chosen for their first date. While he purchased the tickets, Olivia sent a quick text to her mentor, asking if she was alright and how the other heroes were doing.

Her mentor had seemed more tired than usual lately, a grimness about her that didn't fade even when they met up for drinks at night. It worried her, if Olivia was being honest.

"Here," Rhys drew her out of her thoughts and she pocketed her phone, taking the ticket with a little smile and a thank you. "What has you so preoccupied today? Maybe I can help with it?"

"Distract me," Olivia requested after a moment. "It's just work."

Rhys made an understanding noise and then he did quite a thorough job of distracting her. He knew a lot about ocean life, his gaze coming alive in a way that made him look downright boyish in his joy. Like a child, being awed at the world.

It made Olivia smile and yet, at the same time, it made her realize, as they walked from exhibit to exhibit, that her own life sorely lacked in joys and fascination. It was as though her job as a hero had murdered all the innocence in her heart. 

Her inner child was a silent, wounded thing, unable to cope with the reality that people, that villains, could be so very cruel. The stories and tales she had grown up with, about goodness prevailing, felt ever more distant.

Fairytales were only just that, after all. There were no wise men in funky hats with guiding words, no kind women with helping hands, no little fairies to whisk someone away into magical worlds. Not even trolls that could be tricked with a clever riddle and who ultimately didn't really harm anyone who wasn't very foolish.

But even those thoughts Rhys could distract her from and before she knew it, he held her hand as he showed her a fish with the funniest name in the world. It made her laugh more than anything had in weeks. 

There was a curious thoughtfulness to him as he watched her laugh, but he smiled easily enough when she raised an eyebrow at him.

As they slowly headed towards the exit a good two hours later and Rhys ducked into the restroom, she swiftly entered the souvenir shop to buy him a little octopus plush. He loved the smart little ocean animals and even if she felt a little silly, the moment she presented him with it after they left the aquarium made it worth it.

"Thank you," he said, sounding genuinely touched, before he caught himself and cleared his throat. He looked quite thoughtful now and perhaps a little baffled. "That was very kind of you."

Olivia could only offer a wry little smile to that. "With all due respect, you don't know me very well yet." She looked ahead, watching a giggling group of friends as they left the aquarium as well. "I try to be kind where I can be."

Rhys' expression was still thoughtful, though something else was now lurking in his gaze that made him appear more solemn than before. "In that case I look forward to getting to know you," he said, gently holding the plush between his hands. "Would you like to eat lunch with me?"

He showed her to another hole-in-the-wall restaurant and before Olivia knew it, she had spent nearly the entire day with him. They parted ways in the setting sun, promising to meet up again, Octi, the freshly named octopus securely held in Rhys' arms.

He really was quite cute. And Rhys wasn't too bad either.

*..*

Before Olivia knew it, she met Rhys every other day. He showed her around most of the city to places she hadn't even known existed. 

He also sent her plenty of pictures of Octi in his new home, in one he was perched on the sofa as though he was intently watching a historical drama, in another he was half turned away from the fried fish Rhys had cooked as though disgusted.

It made her smile, it made her laugh. It made Olivia feel brighter, like her very heart and soul got to breathe again. It also made her less than eager to return to her job. She really wished she could quit being a hero and maybe go on a road trip. Find a house in the outskirts of the city with a nice little garden. Maybe she'd even adopt a pet.

The End, on the other hand, was absolutely making himself out to be a nuisance. It was as though he knew that she was out of commission and that the other two high-ranking heroes had to deal with a new emergency across the country. He obviously took advantage of the fact that so few other heroes could stand up to him.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Rhys said as he looked around her apartment. It was the first time she had him over and he almost seemed hesitant to be here.

There was something slightly troubled in his gaze today and she had no idea why. He hadn't mentioned any problems, aside from some arguments with coworkers.

She made a noise to let him know she was listening as she pulled out pots and pans to prepare a nice brunch. It was raining buckets today so neither of them had been in the mood to walk around for hours on one of their usual dates.

"What do you think about villains?" Rhys asked, sounding far more serious than ever before. She glanced at him over her shoulder, a frown on her face. His expression was serious as well and he was watching her like he didn't want to miss a single reaction on her end.

"Why do you ask?" Olivia answered, reluctant to open that can of worms when they had had such a nice morning so far. 

When the past almost four weeks were nothing short of...amazing, really. She did not look forward to returning to her job in five days.

"I've just been thinking recently," Rhys said and it sounded just a tad too casual. This clearly was a topic he had wanted to bring up more than once in the past. "We haven't really talked about it before."

Olivia stared down at the eggs she had wanted to fry and suddenly her appetite was gone. "I hate them," she answered honestly, not looking up from the food collected in front of her. The vegetables and fruit and bacon and cheese.

"Why?" there was a strange note in Rhys' voice, something challenging, something edged in hard wariness, but she didn't turn around to look at him. 

Maybe he had a friend or family member who had turned to villainy in the past and was worried she would judge him or them.

Granted, there were some people who called themselves villains but who were merely nuisances at best. They were labeled disturbers by the public, even if the term made them pout. 

Sidekicks were usually deployed to handle them. These people slipped in and out of prison easily enough, since most of them only got charged with public disturbance and some minor property destruction. They very rarely killed someone and usually stopped whatever they were doing the moment there were casualties.

"Do you know how many civilians a villain kills on average?" she asked, reaching for the eggs and cracking them into the pan with perhaps a little too much force, nearly crushing the eggshell into many small pieces.

Rhys was silent, as though startled and so she continued. She knew the statistics. She had seen the hospital rooms, she had checked up on victims, on people she hadn't been able to save. On civilians and colleagues who'd never be able to live normal lives again.

"Five point two per year," she answered. "And that doesn't take the injured into account. Currently, we have over a hundred people in the ICU who may never wake up. There are people who lose limbs or get paralyzed, who turn blind or deaf after an attack."

She cracked another two eggs as she spoke, her back tense and ramrod straight. "There are people who lose their livelihood, their homes and cars in attacks. Do you know how many are in life-long debt because of villains today? How many became homeless?"

"Dont," Rhys said suddenly, sounding unexpectedly choked up and startled and unsettled. "That can't be true."

Olivia's answering laugh was more a fanged bark, all aggression and pain and grim acceptance. "Call the hospitals if you don't believe me or check some of the official records that got released after attacks. Just because it's not on the news doesn't mean it doesn't happen. I know the statistics because I helped compile the data."

That revealed more than she had wanted to, so she bit back everything else she wanted to say. She bit back how she had sat with weeping and grieving people after attacks, hiding her own hurts while trying to help in what little ways she could.

She'd never forget the day a mother gripped her hands tightly, her gaze burning with a rage and grief so terrible it would have swallowed the world whole if it had a physical manifestation. 

'Please stop them,' the woman had begged in a voice so rough it had sounded like a growl. 'Just stop them, once and for all.'

She remembered burying her two best friends, her sidekick. She remembered the pain and agony of their loss, of staring at villains who did not feel sorry, not even for one second, about what they had done.

Olivia had chosen the name Rescue for herself when she had graduated from sidekick to hero, because she had wanted to help people. To give them hope. 

There was no hope she could offer in the wake of death. Only justice.

She still didn't turn around to look at him, the eggs sizzling in the pan and she reached for the bacon pack next, tearing it open with her teeth.

"Do you know the statistics for The End?" Rhys asked in a voice like he half didn't want to know. Oh, did she know his statistics. Only too well.

Olivia rattled them off easily enough and Rhys was so silent that she found herself looking back at him. He looked...horrified. To the point where she felt herself softening, tucking away her claws and teeth and helpless rage. He wasn't at fault after all. He was just a guy who had suddenly gotten whacked over the head with an ugly reality.

"It's not your fault," she said and he jolted like he wanted to protest but bit down on the words, looking even more fraught than before.

"I have to go," he said and Olivia paused in surprise. "I'm sorry. I just – I gotta. I'll call you, just..." He fumbled with his words like he didn't know how to start or finish his sentences and then he rushed out of her apartment, grabbing his shoes on his way out.

Olivia stared after him, befuddled and startled, the eggs sizzling merrily.

What had that been about?

*..*

Something weird was going on, Olivia thought as she headed into work, her arm long healed now. She didn't look forward to another day in the costume, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice. Besides, the villains weren't quite as bad anymore recently, for some strange reason.

The End had nearly vanished after being astonishingly active during her sick leave and a number of other villains had become very quiet as well. At least Rhys had called back after running out, apologizing profusely.

Something had shifted between them after that as well and while it felt like it had been for the better, like some kind of careful wall Rhys had kept up had crumbled, he also seemed troubled more often than not.

But no amount of prodding had gotten him to say anything, so Olivia had left him to it. She made sure he knew that she was there for him, but every offer just seemed to make him feel even more conflicted.

Outside of that, he was affectionate and sweet and kind and he didn't mind her strange hours or that she didn't talk about her job much. He didn't either, only complaining whenever one of his colleagues had pissed him off. 

She didn't mind, it allowed her to keep her secrets, even though she felt more and more bitter about that. The agency had a clause in their contracts that they had to be informed if a civilian found out a hero's identity and while Olivia could lie to them, it would only cause a massive headache later.

She didn't want to drag Rhys into her world, even if she knew that keeping secrets was an asshole move. She just...she wanted one part of her life that didn't get tainted by her greatest regret.

Work was grueling that day, a group of villains had banded together and while she had arrived just in time to keep them from killing anyone, she left the encounter with a massive bruise on her cheek and a sore wrist.

"You gotta take better care of yourself," her mentor murmured as she fussed over her.

It felt good, sometimes, Olivia had to admit, to just lean on her mentor a little, even if she was the stronger and higher ranking one between them. There was a sense of security whenever her mentor was around. Like things were going to be okay, somehow.

"I won't always be here," her mentor added and Olivia pressed her lips together, the gentle little feeling in her chest getting snuffed out like a candle in a strong wind. 

She didn't want to think about her mentor dying, of losing someone who had become family to her. Of losing the person who had caught her again and again countless of times, helping her back to her feet no matter how often she fell. Who had held her as she had wept over broken, unmoving bodies.

As they parted ways, Olivia made sure to hug her mentor for a long minute and the older woman didn't protest. They both knew how fragile life was, they both had buried people they had cared about. They both had lost and hurt and despaired.

Still, her mentor was a tough and crafty one, one of the few heroes who had no powers, who relied on gadgets and sheer martial prowess. Her mentor was going to be fine and even if not, she'd last long enough for Olivia or another hero to come to the rescue.

Olivia parted ways after wrangling a promise out of her mentor to meet up for drinks on the weekend and she was glad that she was meeting Rhys for dinner. On days like today she really didn't like sitting around in her silent, empty apartment.

As she headed towards the restaurant, she passed by a couple of young college students, one of them picking up a newspaper someone had left on a bench.

"Do you ever wonder if heroes are okay?" one of them asked, showing the other a headline with a picture beneath. Olivia knew the depicted scene, recognizing her costume and the hero she was dragging out of a partially collapsed building. "Like who saves our saviors, you know?"

Their friend scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, dude. Heroes save themselves, that's why they're heroes. They do the rescuing."

"I guess," the first guy muttered, dropping the newspaper into the trash.

Olivia turned away, tuning out their conversation as they talked about meeting up for studying with a group of cute students.

Rhys' smile fell when he saw her, her swollen cheek and bandaged hand and she waved him off.

"I tried kickboxing," she answered with an easy shrug. "Please get used to seeing me injured, I like trying new things every couple of weeks."

Rhys nodded, but he looked troubled still so Olivia offered her good hand and he took it, his touch so gentle it was nearly hesitant. He remained softer than ever before during the entire evening, a small frown between his brows whenever he looked at her.

He let her take him home and when he kissed her after they sat down on the couch in the dark, it was with so much care it surprised her when she felt tears prick at her eyes.

"When I met you, I had no idea you would become this important to me," he whispered as he sat in her lap, his knees bracketing her hips and her entire view was filled by him. 

They had left the lights off and so he was only illuminated by the lights of the city shining through the windows. There was something aching in his gaze.

"I..." He paused, his lips pressing together as he raised a hand to trace around her swollen cheek without touching the heated, bruised flesh. He sucked in a sharp breath when Olivia shifted her head to let her cheek rest in his palm. It hurt a little, but it was worth the way his eyes grew wide.

"You really shouldn't trust me like this," he whispered. "What if I'm terrible?"

Olivia couldn't help but laugh softly at that, letting her hands rest on his hips and giving them a little squeeze. She liked his weight on her, warm and solid and steady.

"You make my days brighter," she answered, just as softly, like this moment was a spell that raised voices could shatter. "You make me want to hope for a better tomorrow. How could you be terrible?"

She caught a glimpse of his expression crumbling ever so briefly before he leaned in to kiss her. He kissed her like she was more precious than life itself, then he kissed her like he was drowning and she was air, then he kissed her like they had all the time in the world.

She sank into it, into him, letting him sweep her along, the troubles of the day melting away to be replaced by this wondrous, beautiful moment, cradled in safe hands of the dark. Like they were two secrets that could keep each other safe from discovery.

It made it easy, almost, to bare her heart to this man, to whisper a confession against his lips that had him inhaling sharply and pressing closer. He whispered his own words of love like they were something achingly precious to be presented to her.

Rhys touched her like she was everything he wanted and everything he feared to lose and when they curled up in bed together, Olivia fell asleep with another person beside her for the first time in years.

The last thing she was aware of, was Rhys holding her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead and whispering something that sounded like a shaky, tearful apology.

*.*.*

Olivia was just about to take a bite from her lunch, her stomach rumbling, when her alarm blared, the screen of her wristwatch immediately turning an ominous red as it displayed a location.

Hissing out a curse, she hurriedly grabbed her mask and left the break room, abandoning her lunch to an uncertain fate. If she was lucky, no one had eaten it by the time she came back.

When she arrived on scene, she was breathless, but genuinely surprised to notice that comparatively little had gotten destroyed. No one seemed seriously injured either. In fact, the area was empty of civilians.

It seemed that the newest invention of Gigantor had scared them away. The prowling mech-dogs certainly kept a neat perimeter.

And right there, among his colleagues, was The End, which explained why she had gotten called in. They were robbing a bank from the looks of it and she narrowed her gaze. The End was above such plebeian things as robbing a bank, so if he and the other villains needed money they were planning something big.

"Playtime's over," she called as she leapt down from her perch, landing behind the villains and going for Gigantor first. The more she could take out as quickly as possible the better. She would not win against The End if he had backup.

The villains looked startled to see her and Gigantor crumbled with a wet gurgle, clutching his throat and wheezing for air, some of the hounds leaping forward to protect him, but they didn't seem to be on the attack otherwise, so Olivia swiftly turned to the other villains.

Portalia and Midnight were flanking The End, but they fell back when he stepped forward, turning around. Portalia grabbed Midnight's wrist and they were gone. They probably had headed inside the bank.

Only...Olivia paused as The End fell into a fighting stance, power roiling under her skin. With Portalia working with this group they shouldn't have been spotted in the first place. There certainly wouldn't have been a reason for Gigantor and his inventions to show up.

Which meant this was a distraction.

Olivia hated it when she had no idea what villains were up to and with The End being all over the place in recent months she really had no idea what to expect. Furthermore, most villains didn't team up much, so seeing this quartet together was making her gut tighten in warning.

The End lifted his hands slowly enough that it seemed strangely like he wanted to show he meant to harm. "Rescue," he said and his voice sounded different from the last time she had heard it. There was no more anger there.

He still sounded grim, but strangely hesitant as well. "If you'd let me expl-"

He ducked under her first with a curse and Olivia didn't give him the chance to speak further. She had learned very quickly to not hesitate for a second when confronted with The End. If she did, if she messed up, he'd leave the entire street destroyed. His meteors could crush so much, so much more than just concrete and steel and glass.

She'd be damned before she let it happen again on her watch. She had made that mistake once and had spent days digging people out of the rubble. Dinging corpses out of the rubble.

"Wait-" The End dodged another of her attacks and Olivia's bad feeling grew teeth that tore into her stomach. He wasn't fighting back, why wasn't he fighting back?

A blast of her powers sent him flying and he just barely kept from colliding with a wall, Space and Gravity once more clashing as he activated his powers at last to catch himself.

Gigantor was still on the ground, breathing carefully and feeling along his throat and he did not look like he was going to get up to join the fight, so Olivia followed after The End. 

It turned into a wild chase and Olivia felt baffled and ever more wary and suspicious. The End had never run from her. He had never run from anyone. He had confronted her and all heroes head on, with his powers that made the sky itself shake and the ground rumble. 

He was a force of nature contained in human flesh, capable of destruction so terrible she didn't even want to think of it. He was the storm of all storms, the rage of the universe beyond the little ball they called Earth. He was the death from above and Olivia had once prayed a little, that she'd react in time, that she'd stop him in time, to avoid dying at his hands.

He tried to speak multiple times until he gave up and by the time Olivia managed to corner him in a dead end, she was breathing hard. He was similarly out of breath, looking almost panicked at his situation.

"I don't want to fight you," he hurriedly gasped out, his chest heaving. "Please, just stop."

"I'll stop when villains do," Olivia growled back, lunging forward and missing him by a hair's breadth. 

"I'm stopping!" he shouted, cursing as he parried her blow, his strike unexpectedly lacking the force to hurt her. "Listen to me! Wai-! Olivia!"

For the first time since she had learned her lesson with The End, Olivia froze. He hurriedly backed up, reaching up to grab his mask and pulling it off. Rhys stared at her, eyes wide and beseeching and for a long second, Olivia heard nothing but the ringing in her ears.

It felt like she couldn't breathe as her world crumbled around her.

Suddenly, everything slotted into place. All the little strange moments, the oddities she had chalked up to Rhys being a person with quirks and his own past, one he didn't talk about much. The things he'd ask her, the way he had spoken sometimes, had looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention.

He had known who she had been from the very beginning. Had recognized her that day in the supermarket because he had been the one to shatter her mask to reveal a large enough part of her face.

It felt like her chest was being squeezed tight, so tight she had no idea how she kept drawing breath and her throat felt thick and tight, a scream and a sob so tangled together they turned into a ball of pain that held her voice captive.

"You knew," she rasped out just as The End – as Rhys, her Rhys, her kind and sweet and charming and funny Rhys, who had kept sending her pictures of Octi in various situations to make her laugh, who had brightened her entire world with nothing but lies – took a hesitant step towards her. "You knew all this time."

"I did," he answered, voice soft and cracking around the edges like he was holding back his own emotions.

Olivia found herself falling back a step before she caught herself. Her mind began to race, her emotions turning into a storm that tore up her insides, stripping layers off her bones and flaying her heart and for just a second her eyes welled with tears before she forced them down.

"How clever," she whispered and a terrible laugh scraped out of her throat, raw and awful and sharp like shards of glass. "How very clever."

Of course Rhys had wanted to keep talking to her. Of course he had laid the charm on thick, of course he had done everything to keep her around. Her, the Number One hero. How much information had she given him without meaning to? 

Had he looked at her phone whenever she had fallen asleep around him, foolishly, naively trusting him? Had he looked at her laptop whenever she had taken a shower? Had he found out the few identities she knew of other heroes? Was her mentor still safe?

Suddenly his massive activity period during her sick leave made an awful lot of sense. He had known she wouldn't be there and with the other two heroes being all over the news, taking care of terrible messes, he had known no one else would stop him.

"No, it's not like that," Rhys said, taking a step forward again, only to cringe. "It was at first, but I promise you, I meant everything I said."

"I don't believe you." The words dripped like acid from her tongue and they made him flinch back, his expression nothing but pain and regret and suddenly it made her so very angry.

What gave him the right to look at her like that when he had betrayed her? When he had just broken her heart into thousands of tiny pieces, crushing her dreams of the future. She had dreamed of revealing the truth to him eventually, of asking him to move in with her.

Olivia had no idea what to do, she had no idea what she would have done, if Portalia hadn't shown up and grabbed The End, vanishing with him before he could pull free of her grasp, his other hand reaching out to her.

Olivia stood there for a long minute, viciously biting down on the sobs that crawled up her throat like moaning ghosts. 

And here she had thought she had crushed all her naive, innocent hopes and dreams to pieces long ago. All her bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ideas of a better future.

But Rhys had found the last little piece of her that had remained untouched and he had turned it into a mangled, bleeding mess.

She'd think he was doing her a favor if it didn't hurt so very, very terribly.

She shifted to leave, her mind churning, when her phone pinged and she received a message from Sunshine, telling her that her mentor had gotten caught up in a fight across the city. That she has gotten hurt very badly. They had no idea if she'd make it.

*.*.*

Olivia sat beside the hospital bed, staring down at her phone, re-watching the fight between her mentor and Life Eater a third time. The fight had only gotten recorded in fragmented pieces, cobbled together by whatever nearby cameras had survived during the battle.

There was something off about it. Something wrong about how her mentor moved. And yet, there was something eerily familiar about it, like Olivia had seen it before.

Olivia had trained beside her mentor for years, still sparred with her some days. They spent at least one evening of the week together, going drinking and eating and sometimes Sunshine tagged along outside of costume, trusting her to keep her mouth shut about his identity.

But things had been just ever so slightly off for a while now and it took Olivia a fourth re-watch for things to finally click. She had seen fights like these in the past, far and few between, but all the more tragic for it.

Those were the type of fights where a hero had given up. It was an Out fight. A last, final fight. Some heroes weren't even aware of what they were doing, but Olivia's mentor had always been too sharp for something like that. Had always been too self-aware.

Olivia stared at her mentor, at the bandages that seemed to cover almost all of her body. It had been a close thing, she had nearly died on the operation table and it had taken the doctors and healers hours to save her.

Olivia had spent the night in an uncomfortable hospital chair and had only recently been allowed to visit her mentor, to sit vigil at her bedside in the private wing of the hospital reserved for heroes. She hadn't even shucked her costume yet.

Her mind felt strangely empty, her chest tight and she closed her eyes for a long minute, feeling...wrung out. Angry. Exhausted beyond her physical body. A part of her grieved, a part of her raged and no side got the upper hand, leaving her hanging between them and so, so very done with everything.

When her mentor finally opened her eyes, Olivia waited until her gaze cleared enough, until their gazes met, before she opened her mouth, "Why?"

Her mentor closed her eyes again, suddenly looking so, so much older. And so very exhausted. So very brittle. It was a startling, almost frightening sight. To know that the one person Olivia had always been able to lean on seemed more like a husk than a person in this moment.

"I'm tired, kid," her mentor rasped and Olivia knew it would have been easy to chalk her words up to the current situation. The injuries, the hazy consciousness. But she knew better.

She knew the system they were in so very well, that it would not let them go until they were dead. That her mentor, like Olivia herself, had wanted to leave a long time ago.

"I'm done, kid," her mentor whispered, words slurring and then she seemed to have fallen asleep again.

Olivia stared at her mentor, her fists tightening as she replayed her mentor's words. She knew what her mentor meant, how tired she was of this life. Of being unable to escape it.

Stuck being heroes, stuck at the agency. Stuck in a life they had once chosen because they had been so very good. Because they had believed in that same goodness being present in the rest of the world.

Olivia had once thought that that goodness just needed a little saving, a little protecting. A little dusting off and guarding. 

Until her hands had been stained red over and over again. Until she had asked the agency to leave and had been told of the ruin that awaited her if she walked out.

Olivia stared at her mentor, watched her chest rise and fall and the push and pull of emotions within her shifted as the grief was swamped by anger so encompassing and acidic and dark it felt like a growling beast that snapped vicious teeth around her heart, swallowing it whole.

For a second she couldn't breathe, felt like despair was going to twine around the rage like a toxic lover, clinging and refusing to let go, her mind churning, until a thought clicked in place and suddenly she could breathe again.

She knew what she had to do. 

Something rose in her heart, something that refused to stay down no matter how hard it had gotten hit before. It was too bloody to be called hope, too gritty to be idealistic and too angry to be anything remotely heroic.

'I'm so done, kid.'

'Like, who saves our saviors, you know?'

'Don't be ridiculous, dude. Heroes save themselves, that's why they're heroes. They do the rescuing.'

'If you think you're a hero, then die like one.'

Very well then.

*.*.*

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@dracanea @fractalabomination

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette didn't know Luka's friends very well despite the years of the two of them knowing each other, so she tried to balance keeping herself "outside" of their friendly bubble while also chiming in whenever she was asked a question directly. It helped that she had her sketchpad with her, so she could mindlessly draw when she wasn't part of the conversation.

It was going well until Claudine spoke up, not at her specifically but it definitely got her attention.

"Hey, anyone know if Luka likes someone?"

Marinette's head snapped up, suddenly very aware of everyone in the room. "W-what?"

Roche acknowledged her with a glance, then raised a brow at Claudine. "Did he do anything to make you think that?"

Mito, who had made himself comfortable sitting on the backrest of the couch, tilted his head at her as well. "Why ask?"

"I'm curious!" Claudine raised a finger. "And because it's a crime! When you hear an amazing song, don't you hate when you learn it's not a hit?"

Roche nodded, but Mito and Marinette remained perplexed.

"That's Luka," Claudine clarified, arms spread. "The guy's soft as a marshmallow and so nice, but he's not dating anyone and can't hold a relationship to save his life!"

That, Marinette could understand. The whole being an adult thing had meant that they'd had to spend so much time getting their lives together, so she'd tried to ignore the pang in her chest when they met back up again, so certain that he would've been dating by then, but nothing. Luka always had so much love in his heart that it seemed like a shame that no one was on the receiving end of it.

Wait—

"Can't hold a relationship?" she repeated. "So he's been on dates?"

Roche answered rather than Claudine, "A few, when they ask."

They. So it wasn't Luka initiating, apparently. It was an oddly relieving feeling.

Claudine nodded at Roche. "And it usually ends after one or two dates."

"Isn't that because he's not interested?" Marinette figured.

"But he always lets them decide if they go on another, and you know how he is," Claudine argued. "He's a sweetheart. I bet he tends to their every need, shows them a good time... why wouldn't they follow up if they felt like they had a chance?"

"Hmmm," Mito hummed, tipping a hat he didn't have and miming smoking from a pipe. "A mystery."

"He might not be good at romance after all?" Roche suggested as an alternative theory. "He just seems like it."

Marinette raised a hand, adding on, "It doesn't sound very Luka to go on dates if he already likes someone."

"Maybe he wants to get over them?" Claudine shrugged. "Could be any reason."

"Who'd reject Luka?" Marinette countered. "Unless he never confessed?"

Mito adjusted his imaginary hat. "You know what they say: love is mute."

"That's—" Roche shook his head, deciding not to bother correcting him.

Marinette considered the information presented to her. The idea that Luka was in love with someone without her knowing sounded ridiculous, because while she'd been away from him for a while, he could've found time to say something to her if the crush had happened before then.

He could've brought it up when they'd watch romance movies together, like when they pressed against each other during one movie in particular where things were tense enough to feel like a horror movie. They'd turned to each other and pretended not to notice until the scene was over, so he could have made conversation then.

And he was so complimentary! He would call her "beautiful" when she was just in her pajamas, "cute" when all she'd done was make a little noise or wiggle excitedly, and constantly praised her intelligence. If he'd already been in love with someone, he would save such compliments for them, and what date of his would not ask for another one when he was like that?

It was as Mito said: a mystery, and one that was making her unconsciously draw Luka in her sketchpad, oops—

"Hey, I'm back," Luka called from the hallway, carrying a drink holder in his arm.

Marinette closed her sketchpad as casually yet quickly as possible, looking up at him with a beaming smile. "Oh! Hi!"

"Hey," he greeted, despite having already done so.

She bit her lower lip, eyeing Luka up and down. He was even more attractive than when they were teens and just as considerate, the size of drinks in the carrier varying depending on how much each person usually drank. She was so curious, wondering how such a man couldn't be dating anyone nor manage to keep his dates from coming back. She racked her brain, idly tapping on her sketchpad as she tried to figure out how she could resolve this for both her and his friends.

Then, something clicked, and the words came out before she could stop them.

"Luka, would you go on a test date with me?"

His smile faltered, shocked lips parting at the sudden request. She shifted anxiously in her seat while the eyes of his friends went to the both of them, and she wondered if it'd been too much. Was she so undateable that even calling it a test date was weird?

Luka's grip on the drink carrier unconsciously loosened. Mito, speeding off the couch towards him, ducked down and placed himself just under the nearly fallen carrier. Standing up fully, he took it from Luka by perfectly balancing it on his head, taking it back to the others so Roche could put it on the table.

The action made Luka move again, eyes darting over to his trio of friends. "What were you guys talking about?"

Marinette pushed herself up, leaving her sketches behind as she approached him. "We were wondering why you can't keep dates with anyone. I thought..." She blushed, gesturing between the two of them and already feeling silly. "If we went out on a date, I'd know?"

"Ah." He covered his mouth, making it harder to know exactly what was going on his head. She tried to peer into his eyes, but he evaded, staring off at a corner of the ceiling.

Were his cheeks pink? Was he thinking about his mystery crush just at the mention of a date? Was Claudine right?

Just as Marinette started to get worried, the hand on his chin lowered to reveal a lopsided smile. He made eye contact with her again, voice full of amusement. "We could do it, but I don't think you'd be able to tell."

She tilted her head at the emphasis, which implied that she specifically wouldn't be able to tell. Was it because she didn't know who he liked, or he thought she wasn't perceptive enough, or...

Eyes narrowing, she asked directly, "Is that a challenge?"

Luka went wide-eyed, his hand dropping from his chin and hovering awkwardly at chest level. Roche, Mito, and Claudine had already whipped out their drinks, sipping from them and huddled together as they watched the two intently.

"What?" Luka blinked helplessly. "No—"

"I accept." Marinette straightened, poking him in the chest as her competitive side came out front and center. "I'm going to figure you out. Looking forward to our date, Luka Couffaine."

With a huff, she turned back around and went to her seat, plopping down and reopening her sketchpad. She blushed seeing the sketch she'd just drawn of him, then hurriedly flipped to another page and started drawing something else.

She could handle this, she thought. Worst case scenario, she'd still get a date with her multi-year one-sided crush.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite scully and mulder moments from s4

in episode 1, when mulder returns to his mother’s hospital room after the altercation with the alien bounty hunter, scully puts her hands on him; she says he’s freezing and in shock, and guides him to the right room while he mumbles that “she’ll never know” - he leans down so scully can hold him while he sobs into her shoulder

when he is torn up with grief, believing he failed to save his mother, he says: “you put such faith in your science, scully, but… the things i’ve seen, science provides no place to start”

and she responds with: “nothing happens in contradiction to nature, only in contradiction to what we know of it- and that’s a place to start - that’s where the hope is”, giving them both a shred of optimism, and coaxing a smile out of him despite his emotional turmoil

talking about their desires to start a family someday in episode 2, dancing around any implication that it would be with each other - a moment of rare honesty between them - he rubs her back as he jokes about her finding a man “with a spotless genetic makeup and a really high tolerance for being second-guessed”

(and later he calls after her: “hey, scully- i never saw you as a mother before”)

episode 5: “dana, if, um… early in the four years we’ve been working together… an event occurred that suggested, or somebody told you that… we’d been friends together in other lifetimes- always- wouldn't it have changed some of the ways we look at one another?”

and her answer: “even if i knew for certain, i wouldn’t change a day”

there’s a scene in episode 6 where he’s sitting on his hotel room bed looking up at her, explaining witchcraft and the positive connotations of pentagrams, and it was so tender and soft

(bonus points for her response to his witchy babbling: “well, if it’s that simple, why don’t you put out an APB for someone riding a broom and wearing a tall black hat?”)

in episode 9, mulder returns from the gulag while scully is being questioned about his whereabouts - there's a booming voice from the government council telling her to “answer the question, miss scully” and he comes in with “what is the question?”, saving her from having to endure any further jailing because she refuses to tell them

her face lights up at seeing him alive, and he smiles even though he is in terrible shape <3

then the MINUTE the council goes to recess, they JUMP UP to see each other, hugging, with mulder saying that its “good to put my arms around you”

(and then skinner cutting them off LMAO... he said we do NOT have time for this right now!!!)

scully working so hard to be supportive while mulder went through an emotional rollercoaster in episode 10- she tells him he did an amazing job writing the profile that caught roche, then checks to see if he will be okay before doing the ID on the body of the victim they found

when roche is taunting him, saying he already knows one of the victims, her voice is steely when she says “prove it” (she gets soooo protective and i loved it)

she tells roche he’ll rot in prison and holds the door open for mulder to walk out, then checks again to see if he’s okay

(and then advocating for the "uniqueness of his situation" when skinner is furious that he let out a known murderer) 

their heartbreaking conversation when he brings up that scully never fully believed that samantha was taken by aliens, so what does she think happened? and how she hangs her head, unable to answer; what was she supposed to say when he was in so much pain? sometimes silence is a mercy

at the very end of episode 10, scully tells him she knows he can find the last murder victim (“how?”, he asks; “i don’t know", she answers softly, "but i do know you”)

he looks up at her with tears in his eyes; she tells him to go home and get some sleep, and he laughs, wraps his hands around her waist, leaning his head into her, while she strokes his hair

(this moment being the one where i realized it must be borderline impossible to write their dynamic in fic because of its highly physical and indescribable nature)

((and this moment being one of the best in the show so far, fight me idc))

them arguing over evolutionary theories while holding umbrellas in the snow in episode 12 <3

their episode 14 conversation regarding her sickness mid-investigation- he works so hard to keep his voice level and even as he urges her to look for answers, but you can tell he wants to yell, to grab her by the shoulders and tell her to please, please see if all of this is connected, and if that means there is a way to fix it

how she points out that not all of the women who were abducted are dead, even though only penny is left and her time is running out, wanting so desperately to believe that there is a way for her to escape this fate, no matter how small of a chance it may be; aware of how futile it sounds as she says these words

her fury when she talks of knowing she is dying and that there is nothing she can do to stop it; he refers to her as “agent scully” to remind her of her capability in solving the impossible, as she's done hundreds of times before

scully calling him while he was investigating leads on the abducted women with cancer; he excitedly tells her he thinks he’s onto something, but she just wants him to bring her overnight bag to the hospital and call her mom on her behalf (the trust involved in having him call her mother...)

his breathless “is there anything i should know?”, before he says he’ll be right there

(then he slams his hand onto the filing cabinet, a physical manifestation of his grief at her suffering)

mulder waiting for scully to come from penny’s room, falling asleep in the chair outside the door until she returns from guiding her to eternal rest

he confesses to reading from scully's journal where she was narrating her goodbye to him, and she says she didn't want him to see that, because she isn’t going to let cancer beat her (god. GODDDDDDD.)

she tells him she has things to finish and prove to herself and her family, and he smiles at her, telling her to come on back

how they hug, and he tucks her head under his chin, rubbing her shoulder; “the truth will save you scully. i think it’ll save us both”, and the gentlest forehead kiss of all time (<- another "arguably one of the best moments in the entire series" scene)

the birthday bookend scenes in episodes 17 and 18- his giddy face when the waiters come out singing happy birthday, surprising her entirely; their banter when she teases him for only remembering this one time; her “oh, you have GOT to be kidding me” when he pulls out a gift; how they joke it’s her alien implant turned into earrings in the little gift box

(and how when someone comes up to them for help, scully still thinks it is part of the birthday festivities and says “oh, promise me this isn’t leading to something embarrassing”)

when scully comes to bail him out in episode 18, he starts changing into clean clothes while she is still in the room, and she turns around to avoid seeing him exposed like they have done it a hundred times before. the intimacy there was staggering to me, especially because they were doing this while arguing. how married can two people be?

at the end of episode 19, she monologues about the apollo 11 keychain he gave her- “you never got to tell me why you gave it to me, or what it means, but i think i know. i think that you appreciate that there are extraordinary men and women and extraordinary moments when history leaps forward on the back of these individuals [...] and while we commemorate the greatness of these events and the individuals who achieve them, we cannot forget the sacrifice of those who make these achievements and leaps possible”

to which he replies, quietly; “i just thought it was a pretty cool keychain”

(the meaning she finds in such a small gesture combined with his denial of its implications... it's so fascinating and i want to shake them up and down until they talk about their feelings)

in episode 20, he rings a bell on some random desk across the room to get her attention, which makes her smile as she walks over

(and then, when she guesses he’s going to say that eddie must have shapeshifted, he responds with “scully, should we be picking out china patterns or what?” <- yes you ought to be. drop the wedding registry link and i'll pitch in)

“hey scully, if you could be someone else for a day, who would you be?” “hopefully me” “so boring”

(she’s holding an umbrella up for him during this conversation, and he is still too tall to fit so he has to bend down, before she decides her answer: “eleanor roosevelt”)

mulder uses scully as a human coat rack for eddie’s bathrobe when he flees the scene <3

they’re searching eddie’s house, with mulder upstairs and scully downstairs; he knocks over some stuff with a clatter, then yells “i’m alright!” to which she only responds with “what?” and he does this annoyed little huff (again. SO married)

her nose starts bleeding in episode 22, and he gets SO worried, saying “oh, scully…”, his pause dragging on as he is unable to finish that thought... but she insists she’s fine and runs to the bathroom, leaving him behind looking like he just got punched in the face

(plus his worried knocks on the door and her quiet answer to his repeated asking of “are you okay?”; she is lying to him and saying she is fine despite just seeing a death omen)

their fight at the end of episode 22; how she tells him she saw the death omen, and how she’s trying to hurt him with the “what do you want me to say? that you’re right?” comment because she is so scared, she's lashing out - but he keeps his voice level, says he knows what she is afraid of and that he is, too

“the doctor said i was fine” “i hope that’s the truth” (whispered) “i’m going home”

(the way he doesn't fully believe her when she says she's okay... and how she just wants to be home... she's too closed off to divulge any other information, and seems to think the noble thing is to just Not Talk About it... augh. my feelings)

in episode 23, he wakes up in a strange room, covered in blood; he calls scully at 4:30 in the morning, who has arrived to come get him by 6:15

she yells to him while he’s in the shower, and when she opens the curtain, she finds him curled up in the bath, steaming water pouring on him as he mumbles that he can’t get warm

rather than being taken aback by this, she realizes he is in shock and dries him off, asking if he feels sick, telling him to track her finger, shifting into doctor mode with a quickness, taking his vulnerability in stride

and she's telling him to get to the hospital NOW or ELSE, which he ignores at first, but when he keeps falling to his knees and blacking out, she reaches a point where she has had ENOUGH!!!

the way she refuses to believe, for even a moment, that mulder was involved in the murders; telling him to not say anything to the cops, and that she’ll find enough evidence to get him off the hook (which she does!), even confronting the detective with the fact that he is jailing an innocent man

mulder spent all night in jail screaming for scully, and when she finally arrives, she says “i heard you didn’t get much sleep” in their usual fashion of terribly understating the horrors around them

[yourabsolutemother]

At Sundown

poly task force 141

A/N: I’m not good at narrative writing. Give me a book and I'll write a 12 page essay in two days on it. But narrative? I'm screwed. So a little constructive criticism is welcome. Also I’m using a translator app for their accents, I’m so sorry if they’re stupid hahahah

CW: Military inaccuracy, accent inaccuracy, possible lore inaccuracy, typical a/b/o sexism and classism, cursing, slightly suggestive, reader almost has a panic attack, crying, Price is upset and gets a little mean, Simon is just his mean self, slight mention of PTSD

Chapter overview: Reader has a stressful day at her job and her beta roommate does little to help. Price’s instincts are going haywire and the pack can’t figure out why.

=====

It’s the end of your shift, you work as a waitress at a bar and grill that is near your house. You mostly work during the rushes, when the small restaurant is packed with a line out the door. The restaurant you work at is open until 4 am all week, that's when they kick people out so they can clean up after a long day and get ready for the lunch rush. It’s not the best food around, but the bartender is good and it is a popular spot for business meetings. The place is dirty, but for some reason, the patrons don’t seem to care. If they don’t care, you don’t care. You’re just here to make money to survive.

They don’t exactly like you here, mostly because you are an omega. No one here really talks to you, except sometimes the beta host, but he didn't want people to think less of him by seeing him talking to the only omega in the building. You wish you could get a better paying job, but this was the only thing that paid above five dollars an hour in a 30 minute radius. This place didn’t even really want to hire you, but you begged them. It’s your last resort and you don't regret it one bit. It's hard to get over everyone saying things like. ‘No wonder this is the best job omegas can get. It's all they can handle’. No matter what you do or how hard you work, it's never good enough.

You bust your ass everyday that you work, which was most days, always kind and never showing up late. You have hardly used any of your sick days or vacation days. The only time you call out is when you’re in heat, and no one works when they’re in heat or in rut. But every time you have to call out for that reason, you’re always met with groans and stupid questions like ‘can’t you just put it off for another week?’ As if you could control something that naturally happens.

You know how to do every job in the building, other than cooking, and you have worked in all of the stations at one point in the time that you have worked here. You’re certain that you did every station correctly and efficiently, but you still can’t get them to pay you more for everything that you do. You don’t know what else there is for you to do to make them like you, even a little bit.

You can’t complain much, you have it pretty good. One of your omega friends was telling you one day about how his work wouldn't let him take time off of work for his heat. They made him go to a pharmacy and buy heat suppressants with his own money so that he could work. And then they threatened to fire him if he didn’t continue to take them while he worked for them. He has a very privileged job and makes a lot of money, even if it's only at a restaurant, so he was basically forced to continue taking them.

You thank scent blockers every single day of your life, not knowing how you could manage without them and their seemingly magic effects. Sometimes you had the occasional table with the people who wouldn’t wear scent blockers, wanting to flaunt their status. You hate it, it makes it hard to do your job. The omegas and betas don’t affect you, it mostly just annoys you because of the smell lingering around you and the table for the next few hours. It made people complain to you like there is anything that you can do about the smell. You can’t really use scent blocker on a scent that's already in the air. But what would you know, you’re just an omega afterall.

But, when alphas came in, it was a whole other story. Their scent was always so strong, leaving no room for question or confusion. Their scent would stick around you, the tables, their menus, and really anything they touched for the rest of the day. You can’t blame any of them though, scent blockers burn your nose which is why you never wear them.

It’s easy to tell when you are doing good and when you aren’t. The alphas scent would make your legs weak if they were pleased, if you weren't so scared of them. But if they were upset about something, it was like a punch right to the gut. You always step up your game when you smell their scent souring, acting purely out of a panic response, but sometimes it wasn’t in your hands and there was nothing you could do about it. That didn’t stop you from trying your best, nonetheless.

Right now, you are carrying a tray of hot food across the dining room, eyes not focusing on any of the tables just in case there was an alpha sitting at them. You hate having to look at alphas, only doing it when you have to, like when you are serving their table. Their gaze was always so intense, making your head swim as it tried to decipher why they were looking at you. You aren’t as good as most omegas at reading alphas, some say you’re too naive and will figure it out once an alpha forces you to figure it out. That’s exactly why you avoid them, if you aren’t around them, then you don’t have to worry about reading them and them getting upset because you can’t. If you ever ended up with an alpha, you promised yourself not to fall for one that would treat you as second class. You didn’t want an alpha that thinks an omega is only good if their instincts are good.

Making it to the table without too much trouble, the smell of two sour alphas enters your nose. You hold back an instinctual whine, nervousness filling your chest as you set their food down in front of them. “I’m very sorry for the wait, the kitchen is backed up.” You explain, smiling to try and relieve some of the tension. On the inside, you are panicking, playing out scenarios of what could happen in your head. You can only hope they are accepting of your situation. You waited with shaky hands and bated breath.

The alpha on your left waves his hand dismissively at you, his hand almost hitting your arm as a scowl formed on his face. That action alone is enough to make your heart drop in your chest. “That's enough, omega.” He practically spits, his tone filled with venom. Your mind raced with possibilities, it made you wonder what you had done wrong other than their food taking a bit longer than normal. Of course they blamed you. It always ended up being your fault.

The alpha on your right tosses their collective trash at you, somehow you manage to catch most of the unexpected projectiles with your shaking hands. You bent over quickly, picking up the trash on the floor and placing it on the tray in your hand. “This is why no one hires omegas anymore.” The alpha spoke to the other, speaking like you weren’t standing right there. “Especially if it's a woman.” The other response, a stupid cheeky grin on his face.

You stand up straight, forcing a smile. “Is there anything else I can get you two?” You ask, watching as they both silently pull their wallets out, shoving their cards into your hand. You place them on the tray, holding back the urge to sock both of them in the eye. “Give yourself a nice dollar tip, Hun.” One purrs, intentionally putting you down. You’re an omega at the end of the day after all. You smile and bow your head slightly as a silent departure, turning on your heel and weaving through the crowd back to the kitchen.

“Thanks so much, alpha.” You practically growl under your breath, your hands starting to shake more now that they couldn't see you. “I’ll be able to buy that gumball I've been eyeing all day.” you continue quietly, sarcasm dripping from your voice as the doors to the kitchen come into view. They always say it like they believe that one whole dollar is going to get you anything. 

When you first started, you thought they were being kind and maybe were just down on their luck with money. But then you started paying attention to how much their bill actually was, most of them wouldn't have a hard time tipping at least three dollars. Most of the alphas that came into the restaurant ate a lot of food, they were big, strong men that needed a lot of calories to keep their physique. Their totals usually came out very large, a tip of three dollars wouldn't even be close to twenty percent.

You sigh in relief once you get back inside the kitchen, ignoring the kitchen staff on the other side of the window as they basically screamed at each other. Going over to the computer to start closing out their tabs, you feel a presence behind you. You immediately recognize the smell of the owner, who is staring down at what you were doing with a critical eye. His arms are crossed over your chest as he pushes his scent out to intimidate you. It works and you are practically trembling by the time he walks away, finally leaving you alone.

You continue to mutter annoyedly once he was out of earshot, closing out their checks and not bothering to give yourself that tip. You’d rather not get one then accept money from those pricks. You put their receipt in the holders and make your way back to the two grumbling alphas, probably complaining about how long it was taking you.

You force a fake smile on your face, trying to keep your souring scent low as you place their receipt in front of them. “Come back soon.” You wish them well. They just ignore you as they throw more trash at you and sign their checks. They stand up and head towards the bar in the middle of the restaurant, making a last minute decision to get a drink before they leave. You shove their small trash into the pockets of your apron and leave the rest for the busboy.

You get back to the kitchen shortly after, doing a few tasks you have to do before you leave. You couldn’t stop thinking about those two alphas, of course they had to come in right at the end of your shift and ruin the rest of your night. You walk over to the coat rack and grab your coat and purse, putting them on before clocking out. You walk out the back door and go to your car, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible before the alphas change their minds. The others can deal with it, you’ll deal with the fallout next time you work if they end up needing something else from you. Just another day in this hellhole of a job.

The parking lot is cold and dark, the ground wet from a recent thunderstorm. You aren’t paying much attention as you start to cross the street, not noticing the car coming right for you until the driver slams on its horn and zips right by you. You gasp out and hold tightly onto your coat as you watch the car speed out of the parking lot. They’re probably drunk. You didn’t sleep well last night because your new neighbor was up all night pacing in their room. You kept hearing people coming in to check on him, talking with gruff voices that you could hear muffled through the wall. Although, you could hardly hear what they were saying. You didn’t want to intrude on their privacy.

You are glad that it happened though, because you now realize that you can’t be as loud as you once used to be while in your room. That house has always been empty since you moved in not long ago, but on one ever came by or even visited so you assumed that it was just vacant for some reason. That was until you saw four big military men moving in, you assume they’re on leave for an unknown amount of time. Your room is the furthest down the hall from the stairs, a bathroom next to you separating you from your roommates room and an office across that ensured your solitude. You were used to being able to be on the louder side, no one was close enough to hear it. But now, your neighbors are and you have to be careful

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive home is quiet, only the sound of your car that is hardly running because you don’t make enough money to pay rent, buy food, and do literally anything else. Someone had stolen your radio, which you find odd because what is someone going to do with a beat up old car radio? Omegas were used to belonging to an alpha that took care of those needs so they never really needed money. Most jobs that omegas had were just so they had somewhere to be while their alpha was at work. But you are working for yourself, sometimes your roommates help you out, but you hate having to ask them. Omegas that didn't have a pack truly were lost, most benefit from being part of one. This being said, you didn’t have enough money to buy a new radio, so you sat in silence.

You are too afraid of alphas to even consider being part of a pack, only if there was no alpha. Packs with no alphas were a rare sight, hardly ever making it work in the long run. Alphas are natural born leaders, even if they are unsure of themselves, it’s their instinct to always do what they think is best. Sometimes, what they thought was necessary was cruel. Which is why you avoid them, they’re unpredictable and much more powerful than you.

Due to your status, alphas are able to control omegas in a sense. If they use their tone just right, it scratches something in omegas brains that almost forces them to listen. It's instinctual, there's nothing you can really do to stop it. But, if an omega is too scared of the alpha, too fearful for their own life, they can ignore the instinct. The instinct to stay alive is much stronger. Though, alphas hardly use their commanding tone, funnily enough because it strains their voices to do it.

It sounds like the gears in your car are grinding together, the sound becoming obnoxious as you drive. It always takes your car an abnormal amount of time to get going and it chugs up hills, not being able to catch the necessary gear to make it easily up them. You have to let your foot off the gas most of the time for it to be able to change gears, even though your car is an automatic. You gave up a long time ago trying to make your car smell nice, it always smelled like burning oil, meaning there was a leak somewhere. Probably an expensive one, wish is why you haven’t done anything about it.

There is not much you can do about it right now, you brought it to a mechanic and they gave you a quote that was astronomically out of budget. It was also probably a bit higher than it would be if you had been an alpha or a beta. Mechanics always give omegas a hard time because they’re easy to take advantage of. One time, you went to the mechanic with your roommate, who is a beta, and they charged her fifteen dollars less than they charged you for an oil change.

You can see your house from the entrance of your neighborhood, relief filling you as you get closer to your safe place. But as you pull into your driveway, the now familiar smell of alpha fills your nose, coming from the house attached next to yours. It was a mix of tobacco, patchouli, vanilla and mahogany. It makes your skin form tiny goosebumps all over your arms and legs. An odd mix of smells that somehow all complimented each other. But despite your body’s initial reaction, you can't help but feel panic rise in your body. There were two and it smelled like one of them was not in a good mood at all. It had been like this for a few days, you coming home to smelling angry alpha.

It hasn’t gotten easier in the days following them showing up, you are constantly scared out of your mind that you are going to end up meeting these scary smelling alphas. You wonder why they are constantly upset, you know they had at least one beta since you are able to smell him through your shared wall some nights. It only makes you more jittery with the uncertainty that you feel. You can tell that your scent is souring.

As you sit there in your car, trying to get your things together while moving pretty frantically, something catches your eye while you’re taking the key out of the ignition. Your eyes widen and the back of your neck tingles slightly as you see someone inside their car who was also, assumingly, coming home from work and about to get out of the car.

You’re frozen in place and all you can think about is what could happen, all the things that could happen to an omega when faced with an angry alpha. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears as panic filled your body. All you could smell were the two alphas, it felt like it was flooding every inch of your nose. You felt like you’d never be able to forget their scents. You can’t tell if the person in the car is someone you need to look out for or not, but you don’t want to stay long to figure it out.

It is a tall man you can tell, you can’t tell their status yet and you aren’t about to go up to him and ask. Your vision isn’t the best and you don’t have your glasses on, plus having to look through two windows. Actually getting a good look at him felt impossible. It looks like he has a mohawk, in his mid to late twenties. He looks like a rough guy, a five o’clock shadow covering his face. His muscles stretch in his shirt because of the angle he's sitting at. He seems distracted by a laptop he has in the car. You can’t help but wonder why he has a computer in his car like that.

You panic, looking away to gather the rest of your stuff quickly, you book it inside. The slam of your car door probably immediately gave away your location, but you can’t care less about that now that you’re close to the house. You already have your key out when you get to the door, quickly slotting in the key and twisting to unlock it. You push open the door, your breath quick, hoping that the man didn’t see you. Closing the door behind you, you scurry to set your stuff down, wanting to get as far away from the smell of alpha as you can get.

A sigh escapes you as you reach the safety of your home, relishing in the familiar scent of your two roommates. You take a deep breath as you try to rid your nose of the lingering angry alpha scent. You lock the door behind you and hang up your coat and purse, which you had thrown your keys in, making your way towards the living room where you can hear the tv going. There, one of your roommates, and long time friend, Jasmine sits watching some show you don’t care about. Her long body is splayed out on the couch seat as her arms rested on the back, facing away from you as you enter the room.

Today is one of her days off, so she is just relaxing. From what she tells you, her job is very stressful. She says that she has to deal with angry alphas all day who are constantly on the edge of fighting. Something about being a mediator of some kind. It makes you wonder how many times you coming up to the table has stopped a fight from breaking out. Or how many times the alphas weren’t actually mad at you, but at each other. Fights broke out all the time at the restaurant you worked in, nobody ever did anything after they were broken up, which is why a lot of business meetings are held there.

“Welcome home, Hun.” She calls out, looking over her shoulder to see you walking towards her with a relieved look on your face. “How was work? Smells like it wasn't too good.” She asks, the following words referring to the lingering smell of angry alpha coming from your clothing. The tone of her voice is soft, like she's trying not to break you. Her head and eyes follow you as you make your way around the couch, hands immediately reaching out when she smells how stressed you are. The beta instincts inside her head tell her to help calm you down.

You let out a sigh and sit down next to her, leaning your head on her shoulder, leaning into her comfortable embrace. You can smell her calming cinnamon scent, reminding you of the cinnamon rolls your mom used to make when you were younger. “Why does everyone blame me for the issues that the kitchen causes?” You ask rhetorically in a whine, trying to relax in her reassuring hold. You just want to be able to relax in the betas presence after a stressful day at work. It was almost like a ritual at this point. You come home stressed, she works her magic, and you go on about your day feeling a bit better than before. Tonight seems to be the exception.

 A laugh comes from Jasmine, making you whine in embarrassment despite her hand comfortingly playing with your hair. “Stop laughing..” You mutter, playing with the strings coming off a tiny rip in your black pants, smelling her scent getting stronger as she continues to try and calm you down “I’m sorry, puppy.” She says through lingering giggles, pushing her knee against yours to try and lighten the mood. “It's just that complaining about your waitressing job is such an omega thing to complain about.” She continues to laugh, her head falling back slightly and her hand in your hair stilling, making you pout. Her words felt like she only thought of you as an omega, not seeing the person below the status. Her scent does nothing to help your stressed mind, no matter how hard she tries to project it.

You stand up and let out a frustrated sigh, Jasmine's hold falling from you. Her eyebrows furrow slightly and you have to look away so you don’t feel bad for standing your ground. Jasmine was the only person you are comfortable enough with to do it. “You’re being mean,” You mumble, walking away to your room which resides upstairs. Jasmine turns her head to look over her shoulder at you as you walk away. “Aw, come on. You know I didn’t mean it like that.” She calls out, not receiving a response back to you. She lets out a slight groan, making a mental note to make it up to you later as she turns her attention back to her show.

Once you get upstairs, you walk down the hall towards your room while tears gather in your eyes. You just feel so stressed out and everything is so overwhelming, you just want to curl up in your bed. Just wanting to forget about how worthless you felt in a world that doesn’t appreciate omegas for the treasure that they are. You hope that you can keep your emotions under control until you are in your room.

You pass by Jasmine's room first which was obviously empty, then you pass your other roommates room. Their door was closed, you don’t bother asking them for help, they just moved in and you barely know them. You open your door and quietly shut it behind you, toeing your shoes off as you start to sniffle. You let out a few whimpers and shuffle your shoes with your foot off to the side and out of the way, starting to let the tears fall down your puffy cheeks.

You keep your crying down to whimpers and sniffles, occasionally letting out a sad whine. You remember hearing your neighbor last night, you don’t want them to hear you crying. Your room starts to really smell like sour oranges, like drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth. You took your shirt, pants, and shoes off, shuffling to bed and curling under the covers as you cry your stress away. Eventually your breathing evens out and you are reduced to sniffles as you slowly fall asleep. To be fair, you were still feeling the emotional side effects of your heat which ended three days ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Johnny sits in his car after having to go into a weekly training session, the superiors demanding they stay in peak physical condition even while they are on leave.  Their superiors make them alternate weeks doing it together and doing it alone. They say they want to make sure they can still handle themselves when they aren’t together. Dysfunctional packs aren’t welcome in their field of work, always being forcibly split even if they had been together before joining.

He’s filling out his activity sheet that they have to email to Price every week, so that he could send it to their superiors, when your sweet orange scent fills Johnny’s nose. He’d been smelling you since they arrived, through the wall of his bedroom unluckily. He thanks the gods that he isn’t an alpha and can control himself better. Your scent would have driven him crazy by now if he wasn’t a beta. There was a tinge to your scent, smelling like oranges that had been left in the car for too long. He glances over at you, seeing you quickly getting out of your car with a panicked look on your face. He watches as you slam your car door and book it inside, he can practically see the trail of dust that follows in your wake from how quickly you moved. He wonders why you were so stressed out.

He wishes he could have seen more of you, only being able to see a glimpse of your face before your hair fell in the way. You looked so small and fragile as you scurried away, Johnny felt his body tense at the sight of an omega in distress. He wishes for nothing more than to wrap his thick arms around you and wash his scent over you as you relax in his hold. But by the looks of how you ran away like that, it isn’t really an option. He wonders what's got you so worked up. His brain immediately went to the worst possible scenarios. The thought of you having an abusive alpha crosses his mind, making his chest tighten.

He knows that there are no alphas in the house attached to his, at least he’s never smelled one. He knew there was you, the omega, and there were two betas. He assumes you three are a growing pack since it was originally just the one beta and how there are two new additions. The three of you being roommates never crossed his mind, almost like his brain was keeping him from getting attached to you. He couldn’t have you if you already had a pack.

He wastes no time sending the sheet to John and gathering his things so he can head inside, he has little to no patience waiting for what's his. He eagerly gets out of the car and goes inside, he's excited to see his pack after a long training day. He pushes open the door and the first person he sees is Kyle, who is in the kitchen cooking up dinner.

He goes up behind the slightly shorter beta and wraps his arms around his torso, shoving his face into Kyle’s neck to breathe his coconut scent in deeply. It always made his mouth water, having to swallow a few times so he doesn't drool. Makes him crave a pina colada. Johnny feels his muscles relax as he watches Kyle cook, his chin and nose pressing against the crook of his neck. He starts to sway slightly, relishing in the feeling of his bonded beta being close. “Mised ye..” Johnny mumbled against Kyle’s skin. Kyle responded by leaning his head against Johnny’s.

A deep growl comes from the entrance of the kitchen, making the hair on the back of  both of the betas' necks stand up. “No’ going to gree’ your alpha?” A gruff voice grumbles from the archway. Johnny smiles and turns to see Simon, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Simon is big on respect for alphas, though he isn’t too strict about it and is never mean about it. There is a dark glimmer in Simon's eyes as Johnny lets go of Kyle, Johnny placing a gentle kiss to the side of his head to soothe the whine that slips from Kyle’s throat. Simon tilts his head up and sniffs the air, only being able to smell coconut, this makes him growl lowly again.

Johnny practically bounds over to Simon, squeezing him tight in a bear hug despite how angry he looks.. “O course ah'm gaun tae, LT.” He holds back laughter at the older alpha's recent possessiveness. He purrs as Simon's arms wrap around him, similarly to how he had just done Kyle. “Ya smell like scen’ blocker.” Simon states bluntly as he buries his nose in Johnny’s mohawk, trying to catch a whiff of the freshly cut grass he is used to smelling. “Shower, now.” Simon orders, his tone holding authority as he pushes Johnny away gently by his shoulders. Simon may be rough and it seems like he isn't happy, but the pack has learned that it's just the way he loves. Johnny doesn't waste any time getting upstairs and to his bathroom, passing by John’s office.

“Pup.” A frustrated sounding alpha calls from inside, making Johnny turn on his heel to peak his head into Price’s office. “Whit’s botherin ye, alpha?” The scot asks, knowing exactly what the pack leader needed. Comfort from his beta. Price looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and cigar buds all over his desk. There was so much smoke in the air that his office was hazy, and it reeked of tobacco. His gaze lifts from the paperwork and meets Johnny’s, his eyes are fiery. It isn’t often that Price is in this kind of mood, but when he was it was for good reason.

Price’s nose cringes as the smell of scent blocker enters his nose instead of cut grass. The scent blocker mixes with the Patchouli and strong tobacco scent, making Price growl loudly. “Go shower firs’.” He grumbles, turning his attention back to the mound of paperwork on his desk. “Aye.” Johnny responds before slipping away. He could feel the frustration radiating from Price's office, leaving feeling a little bit worried for the alpha.

Johnny snickers slightly at his two alphas, finding it funny how much they hate smelling scent blockers inside their home. He hurries to his bathroom, now that he has orders from both of his alphas, stripping his clothes off so he can get in the shower. He knows better than to keep Price waiting when he obviously needs a betas touch.

His shower was quick, years of military training taught him to do so easily. He steps out of the shower and wraps one towel around his waist while he uses another to dry his hair. He leaves the bathroom to be met with the smell of sour oranges, almost causing him to double over when his instincts kick in. He lets out a strained groan and sits on his bed, holding onto his knees as he tries to calm himself. He can tell your crying, the smell of your stress seeping through the wall. Your scent was so strong, there was no reason he should be able to smell it as well as he can. His chest tightens knowing that there was nothing that he can do to help you, he wonders why your pack wasn’t doing anything to help you.

There is a sharp knock at his door and the scent of pine enters in nose. It’s Simon. Johnny knows that if Simon comes in here and smells an omega in distress, things won't go very well. Especially when that omega smells so close to his beta. “hold on noo, big fella. I haenae even had the chance tae put on ma clothes.” He calls out, having to hold back the panicked twinge in his voice. He stands up quickly and throws on the closest clean clothes that he could reach, the colors completely miss-matched.

“Hurry up.” He could hear Simon bark from the other side of the door, sounding like he is pressed right against the door and very frustrated. It bothers Simon when members of his pack don’t allow him access to their space, but he knows they deserve to be alone sometimes so he never pushes. Only sometimes when he’s being extra possessive and needy. Simon just needs to know what's happened to feel secure, to know that everything is okay and he has everything under control. But today he seems very pushy about it compared to other days.

Johnny goes over to the door and slips out quickly, not wanting to open the door wide enough that your scent would hit Simon too hard. He looks slightly up at Simon while holding, afraid of his reaction. A million things can happen in the next few seconds. Simon’s eyes darken slightly, his muscles tensing under the tight shirt he has on. “Ya still smell like omega.” Simon grumbles, pulling Johnny closer to sniff him. A slight growl left Simon's lips, his nose cringing at the unfamiliar smell and sour twinge to it.

Johnny fills with anxiety, hoping that Simon doesn’t realize that the smell is coming from his room. Or even worse, thinks that he’s hiding an omega from them all. His scent shifts from smelling fresh to smelling like it rained right after the grass got cut and it got all muddy and weird smelling. A low grumble emanates from Simon’s chest. “Relax, beta.” He almost snaps, his eyes shooting daggers into Johnny’s. “If you needed me to scen’ ya to finish up the cleaning, all ya had to do was ask.” He grumbles, his rough voice sounding softer now as he grabs Johnny’s wrists. All Simon thought of the situation was that Johnny trained near an omega and still smelled like them.

Simon rubs Johnny’s wrists against the scent glands on either side of his neck, his eyes sharp underneath the balaclava as he stares at Johnny. He always felt like Simon was staring into his soul, like he could read his mind. Simon takes his time, making sure by the end of this that Johnny would reek of him. His vanilla and mahogany scent covering his beta, just the way he likes it. He drops his wrists and leans into Johnny, doing his best to rub his scent into his neck and the side of his face. “Mine.” He growls lowly in Johnny’s ear, his hands moving to hold his hips. Simon pulls him closer, pulling him into his chest. “Can’ have ya smelling like a needy omega.” He grumbles.

Simon was weird about omegas. To Johnny, it seems like Simon thinks they’re too much work, not worth the trouble. But it’s not the case in reality, he just can’t see the benefits of having any one new in their already seemingly perfect pack. The truth is, alphas benefit greatly from having an omega to take care of. If you set expectations of your pack dynamic, like that there will be long periods of time that the omega will be without their pack, omegas aren't too much to handle. Alphas need to treat omegas with care for them to be happy and healthy, and Simon is not the most caring person. Johnny thinks that he’s scared and won't admit it, to them or himself.

Johnny rolls his eyes at Simon, which earns him a sharp smack to the back of his upper thigh. “Don’ be getting feisty now, Price needs to see ya.” Simon reminds the smaller beta, finally letting him go so he can take care of the pack alpha. Johnny can't help but notice the way Simon’s eyes watch him longingly, wishing he was able to command Johnny to stay with him.  Johnny can immediately sense this, shooting a smile to Simon. “Dinnae go thinking I forgo’ aboot ye, Si. A’ll come see ye whan A’m duin.” Johnny reassures the moody alpha, his hands resting comfortingly on his forearms before he slips away.

When Johnny got to Price’s office, Kyle was already coming out. He reeked of an alpha in distress. Johnny was immediately filled with dread. If Kyle couldn’t do it, neither can he. Kyle has always been better about this kind of stuff and now they were replying on Johnny to fix it. “Whit’s gotten intae him? Ye couldn’t help?” The scot asked, worry bubbling underneath his eyes. Kyle looked just as worried as Johnny was, scratching at his nose to help rid of the stench that Price was giving off. “I don’ know, he won’ calm down.” Kyle breathes, his eyes softening as he quietly closes the door so he can speak to Johnny a bit more privately. “He’s no’ righ’ in the head space righ’ now, I think there's something wrong with his alpha. Bu’ ya know how old military men are, he’s denying there's anything wrong..” Kyle speaks in a hushed whisper, not wanting Price to hear them talking about him.

Kyle's words don’t help to calm him down, it makes his head fill with endless possibilities of what could be wrong with Price. Kyle senses the stress on his fellow beta, his bonded beta, and pulls him closer. His hand runs though the hair at the base of his mohawk. “You’re gonna do jus’ fine, Johnny..” Kyle reassures him, projecting his calming coconut scent over the stressed beta. Johnny doesn’t know how Kyle is able to do it so well, but he is immediately calm. He takes a deep breath of the coconut and nods softly. “Aye, ye’re right..” He sighs out softly, filling the tension leaving his body.

Johnny pulls away from Kyle's hold and faces the door to Price’s office. He feels Kyles hand on his lower back as he takes a deep breath and reaches for the handle. He pushes open the door and slips inside, being hit quickly by the musky smell of tobacco stinking up the room. It’s hazy in the small space, cigar wrappers littering the ground. The smell of tobacco is so strong, from the cigars and from Price, that it makes Johnny want to cough.

“Alpha..” Johnny speaks softly, walking over to Price who was hunched over his desk. Johnny’s hands brush over his back and grip his shoulders. “youre puttin tui much stress on yersel, sir. war supposit tae be on partial lea.” He reminds the frustrated alpha, starting to roughly massage Price's shoulders. “This doesn't luik lik partial lea tae me.” He points out, letting his scent wash over the frustrated alpha

Price straightens out and lets his shoulders relax so that Johnny could get to his tense muscles better. “Somethings no’ right, pup.” He grumbles, his hand gripping the pen tightly in his large hand. It looked like he was about to break the plastic in half. Johnny imagines how it would set Price off to be covered in ink, so he gently takes it from his hand.

This causes Price to growl softly, a small warning. “Give i’ back, now.” He grumbled, his shoulders growing tense even under Johnny's magical hands. “nae can do, cap’. You're gonna break it.” The scot whispers gently in Price’s ear. “Are ye hungry?” He asks, pressing his front to Price's back as best he can with Price sitting in a chair as he changes the subject. “A smellit Kyle's cuikin whan A cam in.  A think he made soup.” He persuades, leaning down to place small kisses to the side of Price’s head.

Price doesn't say anything as he stands up and makes his way to the door of his office, roughly grabbing the doorknob and swinging the door open. Johnny is surprised by the sudden movement, not expecting it to be so easy to convince him to leave his cave. His hands fall from Price and he stumbles back a bit, being forced to make room for Price’s movements. The smell of his frustration fills the hallway as he stomps down the stairs, Johnny following close behind. A growl erupts from the living room as Prive passes by, coming from Simon in response to the intrusive scent. “Fucks up with you?” Simon asks, his bright blue eyes glaring at Price sharply. Simon tends to struggle when Price’s scent is as strong as it is, which makes it hard for him to remember they’re on the same team, on the field and as a pack.

Price glares back at Simon, huffing a little bit as Simon gets on his already agitated nerves. His fists clench at his sides, having to focus on not lashing out for no good reason. “Watch it, Ghost.” He almost growls, he tone commanding like he was on the field. Simon backs off when he hears his call sign, knowing not to press anymore. Sometimes, they struggle with their shared pack. There is a long silence as the two alphas stare at each other, both aware of the fine line they are walking

Price is the pack alpha, calling all the shots and making all the decisions for the wellbeing of the pack. Simon is an alpha of the pack, but does not have any proper authority as to what happens. The only thing Simon can do to have any say is to talk it out with Price, who always listens but can’t always promise Simon will get what he wants. While their relationship felt fragile, they still worked around it and found their own ways to be vulnerable around each other.

Johnny and Kyle look at each other, a similar look of worry. They aren’t used to feeling so unsure of everything, their alphas feeling so unsure of everything. All they can do is project their scent out to try and cover Price's burnt tobacco. “The food is already on the table.” Kyle broke the uncomfortable silence. “Your favorite, Alpha.” He continues, holding onto Price's arm as he guides him to the dining room.

They eat dinner in tense silence, Price’s eyes watching all of them as he eats, his gaze protective and observant. Simon meets his eyes everytime Price looks at him, realizing something together. Something is missing from their pack, they just can’t seem to put their fingers on it.

[alexandraisyes]

hi, same anon that asked if your symptoms go away or not. no clue why I worded it like that, but I meant if you experience it worse in intervals (obviously the symptoms are always there but get more noticeable at certain times). since you've answered my (horribly worded) question already, though, I raise another question: are there any resources that aren't horrifically ableist, where I can look further into ASPD, its symptoms and how they interact with things such as autism and other cluster B disorders? I ask so I don't keep asking you circular questions like you're equipped to diagnose a stranger with a personality disorder.

Resources are far and few to come by. A lot of what I know has been through extensive interpersonal study (talking to other people with the disorder). The fact of the matter is that most people with the disorder don’t freely talk about the disorder. You can look in online forum spaces if you want, or just get lucky and meet someone with the disorder in real life or happen to get super lucky and they’re already in your friend group. I have a sociopath and a malignant narcissist in my current friend group.

Understanding neurology would also help you in understanding any disorder, because there’s plenty of research on the neurological side of ASPD. Just not a lot of the psychological side. But if you understand neurology you understand psychology (most psychologists don’t fully understand neurology, they’re two different types of medicine with far different fields).

If you’re looking for how it interacts with other cluster b disorders, you can probably find at the very least one, maybe up to ten different “influencers” who are malignant narcissists (ASPD + NPD) who talk about the disorder on varying platforms. As stereotyped as it is, narcissists do actually love to talk about themselves.

As far as how it interacts with other neurodivergencies? Just ask someone with ASPD if they have comorbid neurodivergent disorders and what it’s like. However you aren’t going to find anything on having comorbid ASPD and autism. The two physically cannot coexist on a neurological level. (Trust me, I tried, I had a misdiagnosis of autism and was trying to wrap my head around it too).

So if someone with ASPD tells you they’re also autistic they’re wrong. They either don’t have ASPD or they don’t have autism. It’s always one or the other.

This is because ASPD and ASD are both largely caused by the amygdala. In ASD the amygdala is enlarged, growing abnormally quick between 6 and 12 months old. So you aren’t actually born autistic, but you may as well be. The faster the amygdala grows during that time the more severe the symptoms are presenting and the younger the symptoms will be noticeable.

ASPD on the other handle is caused by a reduced amygdala. Deformed sounds harsh but yeah it’s basically deformed. It’s smaller than normal, with an extremely regressed growth rate.

I could potentially go into the specifics but that’s a whole other post.

And I can’t diagnose anyone, online or off, so I will never try to. However, I am a reliable resource for understanding ASPD since it quite literally plagues me. So I can at the very least answer questions about something I’m unreasonably specialized in. Especially when the majority people in the psychiatric field of medicine aren’t specialized in it at all and there’s not enough genuine research for them to fake it either. And unfortunately most people aren’t willing to have compassion for things they don’t understand.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

But What If I Wasn't Rich?

Right. So. With revisions on Stolen Child going well, I've tried to start gearing up for my next big project, which is what I'd planned on working on this month. It's a very different tone - lots of zany hijinks with a group of idiots going through the jungles of India looking for biologically impossible flora - so I figured it shouldn't need too much in the way of research, especially since I'm avoiding politics like the plague. Don't know how much I'll manage, mind, since the only reason I can think of for Thomas's cousin to be in Bombay is military, but I'm pretty confident I can just say that and let my historically well informed audience fill in their own blanks while I concentrate on more important things, like cobras that spit hydrochloride acid at people*.

For all of that, though, I am having problems right off the bat with the research. Why? Because I need to get a disgraced-with-no-reference Thomas from Downton Abbey to Bombay, and I need to do it via a land route (or mostly at any rate), because he needs to start the whole thing off by crashing into someone in a train station. I suppose it could technically be at a port, but the train station just seems more likely given that the person in question is trying to get to the Congo.

This should not be difficult to figure out, right? A couple of Google** searches and you're done.

Well, not so much. When I search for how to get from England to India in 1920, the search engines seem to think I'm curious about immigration in the late 1800s. The closest I've come is an article that outlines the sea route around Cape Horn that was utilized the early 1900s...and stops there.

There was one (1) Reddit thread that popped up from someone with a similar problem who had the route mostly mapped but was just missing a bit in the middle. It started with the Orient Express.

Okay! Time to look up the Orient Express! And we get...

An absolute ton of information on the very big, very famous luxury liner of trains! Yes'sir, the Orient Express got you from Paris to Istanbul in style like you wouldn't believe! All of the rich people were lining up to bask in the lap of luxury as they made this cross land trip!

...

...which was probably beyond the budget of a newly sacked valet...

Pretty certain.

So we start looking for other ways to get from Paris to Istanbul in 1920 and apparently you could...walk? Or something? Maybe hitch hike?

Yeah, there's nothing. I can not come up with a search that does not tell me about the Orient Express, but unless Thomas ties himself to the roof, I don't see him getting aboard that one.

So! Are there any travel experts out there who have insight? Or people who have faced this issue in their fanfiction? Researchers with a hyper fixation on Agatha Christie? Banana cream pie? I'm kinda hungry, I could go in for some banana cream pie.

Heck, I'd settle for a less politically volatile reason for Thomas's cousin to be in residence, although I'm going to have to at least touch on the BEF*** for plot reasons.

*our fauna is as biologically impossible as our fauna

**or, well, Duckduckgo, but that doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely

***at least I assume that's who was stationed there. Again really, really not interested in politics. At all. Ever. Plague on the planet.