#mercury wayward

[simsandstrawberries]

Some Crunchy Planet Sims (Tumblr hates me personally)

CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY

If you didn't know, I made the Space Legacy Challenge and here are the completed sims from each generation!! (If you notice the watermark on Pluto's flag.. no u don't)

Thank you to everyone who has reblogged my original post and to everyone who has shown me their own take on their sims, because they are all genuinely so cool and I'm obsessed with them! You guys have my whole heart (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

[seat-safety-switch]

Couple years ago, in engineering school, we built this robot for a final project. It was called "Fun Facts Frank," and it – I guess he – would follow you around the room, telling you fun facts about the world. Sounds simple, but there was just something about how he toodle-bootled throughout the place, genially meeting people before dispensing information about salamanders or spaghettini that won over our prof. And then he left the door open.

We never saw Fun Facts Frank again. The other folks in my group looked for him, but I knew it was futile. Against their recommendation, I had strapped a very powerful electric motor and an enormous battery to Frank, because I wasn't sure if we would be able to find an outlet on the day of the big presentation. It turns out that this gave Frank an effective range of "the entire fucking province." Also, Tedward thought it would be cute if Frank could ask you to plug him in when his batteries ran low. Nobody could resist such an adorable robot, so we figured he could easily travel from bar to bar, regurgitating Wikipedia for a couple cents of block-heater-outlet juice at a time.

After a while of searching, we did give up. Final exam season was coming up, and in all that excitement it seemed like Frank was the least important problem on our plates. It wasn't wise to cut out our studying and day-drinking to go searching for a wayward robot, especially one that had been explicitly programmed to avoid harming anyone. We got busy with our careers after that. Years passed before Charlie remembered about it, and by then we really didn't have a good idea where to find him.

Well, one fateful evening, I turned on the news, and Fun Facts Frank had become Mayor Frank. He was apologizing to the small town he had tricked into voting for him. Turns out we never programmed him to have fun facts about how to avoid massive overland flooding, and he instead spent the entire prep period driving around the shore of the river, telling everyone about how hot the surface of Mercury was instead of helping carry sandbags. We went there to pick him up, but he had already been re-elected by then, and his security guards had fun facts about truncheons applied to a bunch of nerds for us as well.

[shady-tavern]

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.

[fxirysforesight]

Guessing Riize's Rising Signs - UPDATED 4/22/24. After watching more content about them and hearing them talk about themselves more I had to change my opinion about their Ascendant Signs.

Shotaro - Cancer. At first I was willing to jump for Gemini which would make his chart ruler Scorpio Mercury in the 6th House and as sure as I am about his Scorpio placements being evident, I'm not willing to bet that his Chart Ruler is Mercury. So instead I raise you, Cancer Rising, chart ruler Scorpio Moon in 5th. Appearance-wise he has stereotypical Cancer features. Large sparkly eyes, "Moon" or wide and soft facial features, full lips. Personality wise, Shotaro seems to be very reflective and observant but also playful and kind but stern. Cancer. This would also make sense given the fact that all of the members of his group gravitate towards him as a sense of protection or comfort even though he isnt the leader. Like a mom.

Eunseok - Virgo. He's gorgeous. He has a very simple but elegant look about him. Cool eyes, chiseled face similar to Capricorn but Virgo ASC has a softer and more "feminine" look to it, which makes their chins appear smaller (Think S.Coups and San as opposed to Zac Efron and James Franco) In addition to his appearance, Eunseok's most noticeable trait is his speech and the wayward stuff he says. So Pisces Mercury Chart Ruler makes sense to me. Chart ruler Pisces Mercury in 7th? Yes.

Sungchan - Taurus. I'm 99% sure of this guys. Tall and sturdy build, wide upper body, strong nose and large nostrils, full lips. Chart ruler Leo Venus in 4th? Yes. Also if Sungchan was a Taurus Rising, that would put Taro's Moon and Mercury in his 7th House. (Which would explain why he's always all up on my man. 🙄)

Wonbin - Aquarius. I don't have an explanation I just feel it. Especially with his Mercury in his 1st house, and I've noticed that with Wonbin his face always says it before his mouth does. Remember the pictures that surfaced of him after they got mobbed at the airport? Yeah. Also His MC would be in Scorpio and we learned from Anton that Wonbin's "I'm not cute I'm cool" persona was created by the man himself.

Anton - Taurus. What could make our Aries Stellium boy so quiet yet so sassy? If his Aries Stellium was in a mutable house. I thought that maybe Anton was a Pisces Rising at first but now I see him as more of a Taurus Rising with his Aries Stellium in the 12th House. The different between Chan's Taurus ASC and Anton's Taurus ASC is that Chan's Taurus ASC is ruled by Leo which is a very confident and passionate sign, having him express his Leonine qualities outwardly. Anton's Taurus ASC is ruled by Taurus which is a very mellow, chill, and relaxed sign, which is why Anton's Taurean expression is so prominent. Slow and elegant physical movements, his love for food, and the drawn out and slow way he speaks. He is also very well spoken and poetic as his Mercury would be in the 12th House which makes sense with this placement as well. So chart ruler Venus in 1st House. Yes. ALSO! I've noticed that Pisces and 12th House placements are very sentimental. Hueningkai with his plushies and Anton with his Collectables.

Sohee - Gemini. Sohee is the only other member that I am not too confident in nor do I have a proper explanation for as I feel like he is such a wildcard of a person. He surprises me every time which is why I think he's a mutable rising. Sag Mercury Chart Ruler? Yes.

Seunghan - Aries . No explanation needed. But in all honesty, an Aries Rising would give him masculine cutting edge facial features but some oppositions from his Libra placements would soften that up giving him a nice balance of masculine and feminine features which we can see he has. It would also put his chart ruler in the 12th House and we know that Seunghan has these moments where he is very excitable and passionate and then he withdraws and sits by himself in the corner. The conflicting energies of Mars in the 12th House and his Libra placements craving balance would make sense here. He is also the member that took the longest in getting close with everyone which would also make this make sense. So chart ruler Pisces Mars in 12th. Yes.

[lonestarflight]

The boilerplate capsule from the Big Joe mission on the deck of the USS STRONG (DD-758) following its recovery in the Atlantic Ocean.

"At local sunrise, the Big Joe capsule was spotted by a Navy P2V Neptune patrol plane allowing it to vector the nearest destroyer, the USS STRONG over 160 kilometers away, towards the wayward capsule for recovery. By about 10:00 AM EST, the Big Joe capsule was recovered and brought aboard STRONG. It was subsequently transferred to a cargo plane and flown to Cape Canaveral. The capsule arrived by 10 PM on launch day and was moved to Hangar S by midnight. Close inspection of the capsule showed that only 30% of the heat shield had ablated away and that the capsule was perfectly protected despite the punishing flight. While there was some buckling of the outer skin of the capsule where heating was especially intense and a couple of recovery hooks on Mercury’s cylindrical forward section were heavily eroded, there were few signs of thermal damage to the capsule."

Date: September 9, 1959

NASA ID: link

[ninibeingdelulu]

A headcannon of fluff for kissing/comfort on a rainy day for zack fair? perhaps a day hes upset due a bad mission or something like what he'd like to be comforted how he wants to be kissed? similar to the request you just wrote for cloud? thank you so so much

—headcanons ft. zack fair

A/N: hii thanks for requesting that. I was going to do a zack fluff post soon anyway but I like this idea. I hope you’ll like it, enjoy xoxo

When the battles have been grueling and the weight of his responsibilities as SOLDIER weigh heavy on those broad shoulders, Zack Fair seeks solace in your tender affections. His usual exuberant spirit dimmed to something achingly fragile and childlike in those vulnerable moments of fatigue and frustration.

physical reassurance:

The most effective balm for Zack's anguished soul is the grounding press of your body nestled against his own.

He'll wordlessly enfold you in his arms, face buried against the crook of your neck with each inhale saturated in your comforting scent.

Trembling fingers splay across the small of your back as if mapping every groove and dip like braille - anchoring the wayward pieces of himself back together through your joined warmth.

Zack nuzzles into you with such desperate, starving need, grip flexing tighter at each soothing stroke you skim through his disheveled ebony spikes.

Only once your steadying embrace begins dispelling the shadows haunting his bright spirit does Zack's body uncoil from its taut rigidity.

Low, broken rumbles of contentment start bleeding into every ragged exhale as you as his living tether to peace and serenity.

kiss reassurance:

While still clinging to you like a buoy in tempestuous seas, Zack will initiate a trail of tender, worshipful kisses cascading from your collarbone up the vulnerable column of your throat.

Each brush of his pillowy lips is featherlight and tremulous - less a heated passionate and more like honoring you as a sacrosanct offering to soothe his anguish.

Zack pours every ounce of wistful yearning and childlike adulation into each caress of mouth against skin.

You can taste each shuddering breath and aborted whimper bleeding from the very depths of his soul on his lips as he maps your body like a blind man relearning the world anew.

Only once he's attained some semblance of stabilizing tranquility will those revering, barely-there brushes shift into something warmer and more ardent.

His arms loop fully around your waist, hefting your body flush to his powerful frame in a cradling embrace as Zack's lips slant hotly over yours in drugging reverence.

Despite his ravenous hunger, there's still a profound gentleness infusing each velvet sweep of his tongue and greedy inhale gulping down your intermingled breaths.

Zack kisses you intently like committing every ridge and dip of your mouth to somatic memory.

Like you alone provide the grace to exorcise his demons and anchor him to purity once more.

verbal reassurance:

While Zack does appreciate soft-spoken platitudes and tender words murmured through his tousled locks, your SOLDIER needs something a bit more visceral to pierce the haze saturating his mercurial heart in those darker stretches.

Nothing permeates Zack's churning turmoil like spontaneous, uproariously affectionate bouts of verbal indulgence showered directly from your lips to his raptured ears.

Sprawled with his head cradled in your lap, azure eyes fixated up at you in rapt, childlike wonder - this is the prime opportunity to saturate Zack in a deluge of playful, adoring praises and endearments.

He'll grin like a boy hoarding the world's sweetest candy with every crinkle-nosed giggle that erupts whenever you extol the virtues that make up your Zack Fair.

Kiss the tip of his nose and call him your 'courageous puppy' for weathering the harshest storms unscathed.

Trace his swoon-worthy jawline and teasingly laud what a 'dreamboat' he is for all the ladies of Midgar.

Beckon him up for an impromptu snuggle session as you revel in being his 'Zack-attack's favorite hugger.'

At the crescendo of your syrupy-sweet avalanche, Zack will haul you in for a blitzing flurry of grateful smooches - peppering your giggling features until you both collapse in hoots of laughter.

It's only once your breathless cachinnations have echoed out into the room that Zack's usual vibrancy gleams with renewed radiance.

Having his ego stocked on such a sugary diet of affirmations and playful titillation is often the perfect panacea for lifting Zack's spirits back to their full sunbeam zeal.

Nothing ignites that childlike spark better than immersing himself in the doting, frenetic joy you bathe him in like a pure baptismal font.

So keep that fountain of sugary saccharine and worshipful baby-talk flowing freely whenever your Zack needs liberating from the blackest depths of despair - and you'll have your irrepressible, black-bright puppy back in full force once more!

[rushingheadlong]

Happy Birthday Tim Staffell!

Born 24 February 1948, Tim is perhaps best known as being the lead singer and bassist in the band "Smile" alongside Brian May and Roger Taylor. In addition to co-writing the future Queen song "Doin' Alright", Tim also introduced his bandmates to his art school classmate Freddie Mercury, thereby laying the groundwork for the formation of Queen after Tim departed Smile in early 1970.

After setting aside his musical career in 1977, Tim went on to work in practical effects and design. Some of his credits include model-making for Doctor Who, Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends, and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Tim returned to music with the release of his first solo album, aMIGO, in 2005. Since then he has released Two Late (2018), Parallel World (2020), How High (2021, with Paul Stewart) and Wayward Child (2023).

[akathecentimetre]

I FICCED AGAIN. But this definitely requires some explanation.

Simply put, I am a huge nerd. I'm in a huge phase of a) adoring the music of Handel and b) adoring the skill of countertenor Iestyn Davies, and so a while back I wrote a thing about the sweet triad of Rodelinda (queen), Bertarido (her king/husband, incorrectly thought dead) and Unolfo (Bertarido's still-loyal counsellor). Davies has played both Unolfo - in the 2011 Met production of Rodelinda that informed that first fic - and Bertarido, as I heard him do at Carnegie Hall just last week and in several other productions.

The images above are from him playing Bertarido in an English National Opera (ENO) production from 2014. If anyone out there happens to know if a video of this show exists, I will literally kill for it. And here is a little fangirl take on the sheer awfulness that exists at the heart of this opera, regardless of its happy ending. Massive thanks, as ever, to @agarthanguide for being my best enabler.

Unolfo’s blood is drying on his palm, tacky, heavy as mercury. Bertarido closes his fist, and the tide crashes in. Gundeberto had always been the soldier of the three of them. His brother the king, The Avaricious; the crude hacker of limbs, the bloodletter. Eduige, stern and straight-backed, was more suited to politics, the game of shadows and false appearances. Bertarido had always felt himself the one left over, the reluctant ruler, the Platonic striver after moderation. Gundeberto had died as he lived, gasping and cackling through the blood in his mouth, while Bertarido had been swept away from him on the battlefield and left for lost as the corpses rotted and stank. Passive. Weak. Concerned overmuch with virtue. These epithets have followed him all his life. I shall string their guts along my gates, he thinks, and the words become fire within him as he stares at his trembling hand. Unolfo, his dearest counsellor, his only loyal friend. He had been warm to Bertarido’s touch when the wayward knife slipped between his ribs, his blood quickened, Bertarido now knows, by the excited hope of saving his sovereign. His own name, splattered across Unolfo’s shoulders, has been tainted by the dark fears that had grown around Bertarido in his prison, in the filthy, festering dungeon of his enemies’ making. They have done this. Bertarido whispers it to himself as he stalks through the palace, striding from shadow to shadow, his vision narrowing and swimming at its edges. He has spent months railing against fate, against fortuna, against unshaped forces he has until now believed ruled his destiny as it was sadly cut short. He believes that no longer. Them. Grimoaldo, the tottering, frightened, pathetic usurper. Garibaldo, the true cruelty behind the false king, shorn of principles, delighting in misery. He puts names to previously blank faces. These men, these horrors, are real. It was not Fortuna who put a knife to the throat of Bertarido’s son, who oppressed his cabinet and ignored his people. Who has done God only knows what to his wife. Bertarido nearly stumbles, his breath caught in his throat. The pain rises, choking, and he clutches at a nearby doorframe as he lets out a dry retch, wracked into immobility for a brief moment of his rampage. They must die. The words swim through him so naturally that, were he not so overwhelmed, he would chastise himself. Mercy be damned. Until this moment, sweet, melancholy daydreams of what should have been have always risen to the forefront of his thoughts. Rodelinda, resplendent, smiling gently, maternal, catching his eye in a flash of passion as Flavio, dutiful and strong, nods to him. Unolfo hovering, immaculate as ever, promising and providing stability. His mind reaches, grasps – but it is gone, the peaceful world of his past shattered. Bertarido takes in a sharp breath, and something within him mocks all his hopes; mocks the very idea that it could ever have been thus again, what with everything that has happened in between. His bare, torn feet have somehow known where to take him. He stands back at the threshold of the dungeon, staring at the cooling pool of blood where Unolfo had so recently lain. Someone else has been here since – he can see other footprints on the grimy floor – but he cares not to speculate on who it might have been. Bertarido leans down; hefts the sword that was so recently pressed with glee against his own chest, the absurd weight of it. They will pay for what they have taken from me. His God is a forgiving one, he has been told. He turns away to seek his quarry, and sets out to put his reputation to rest.

[lustrumlane]

What little rest one can get in the plush beds of the guest rooms is interrupted by a knock at the door and a nearly imperceptible voice that whispers, "Come out." One by one, the wayward guests make their way to the lobby. There are no familiar faces in sight.

The Curator scans your faces as you walk and holds up a hand, "Before any of you demand an explanation, take a look. This all washed up the same time as you."

His anxiety is apparent, and the hall looks more interesting than what little answers he's prepared to offer. He steps aside and lets you all into the left wing— the Hall of Recollection's first room has opened. The names of your fellows becomes clear as you scan the displays, each cordoned off by velvet rope.

Anisha Jain

Aurelius

Coronis the Phrygian

Dahlia

Dante Monterya

Edith Davis

Elena Van Wyck

Emerson Tiels

Ephemerael Glymmerplum

Kit Carlisle

Lacunas

Maya Castaneda

The Mercury Nightwalker

Mikhail of Ryabsk

PACKET-Man

Rui Isahai

Upsilon Zhang

Uroro Zenzen

Venetia Octavia Xanthe Luscinia

Victor Laurent

[Invitations and follow-up will go out shortly.]

[dreamanduality]

July 2024: highlights on Neptune and Pluto

*horoscopes for the impacted below

When I listen to most discussions about the outer planets, they are interpreted similarly to the personal planets. They are not and I think a lot of how this notion can be dissolved for them to get the credit that they deserve. The language of them having signs that they rule modernly helped but is still wrong. This is why delineations are often half right when it comes to them—they are generationally social or involve a group rather than the person.

Every month this year has brought a different flavor of change and will continue to do so. This year challenges the social concept of free will and how it has been propagated by politics, religion, and modern psychological thought. How are you coping with today's reality? How are you holding onto hope?

How Neptune will manifest for you in lived experience is the culmination of almost the last decade and the dissolution of constitution that Neptune brings. The melting of the acid trip when hitting retrograde reveals the reality of what is left. Neptune stationed retrograde on July 2nd, 2024, at the last possible moment of 29 degree and 55 minutes, marking a critical point. …joining Saturn’s (Rx) co-presence to make a lulling siren's song lighting a crescendo into a rude awakening of brittle reality.

As Saturn and Neptune meet the glass of the hour glass will dissolve, there is no reason to try to separate the pieces during the next Mercury Rx, they are all made of the same material.

July is embedded in this stormy symphony with the addition of pressure from Pluto(Rx) and Mars meeting with a square around the 11th to 16th adding the undertone of petty paranoia to the realism we are witnessing around. Before you jump into the deep end end make the consideration that illusions are just that and urgency will not bring you the escape route you are wanting. Not to mention the Mars Uranus conjunction—which I really don't want to talk about, because I’m doomy and gloomy enough…Algol ooooffffffffffff, in another post, maybe.

I consider this Neptune movement the highlight of the year, ushering in what is to come in the things that make so much of humanity human and also, unfortunately, inhuman.

Key points of interest revolving around the organization of belief.

On a personal level, Neptune's influence reaches the core, highlighting the parts of you that contribute imaginative qualities to the ticking of the social lens. When retrograde, it catapults you out of escapism and grandeur, making you more lucid. To read more on a loose picture of what is to come you can find that here

Why do I presume that these 4 rising sign will be experiences this transit in the most prolific ways? Because Neptune has been in one of your angular houses. Angular house hold the space for prominent areas of life; the peaks.

Pisces; you sense of self, mind and body. Your reality check formulates byway of you, darling! Who are you?

Gemini; public image, the worlds stage, and life’s legacy. What ethical pillar is surviving the winter storm? What is left is what can grow. You just have to start taking action and stop overthinking it—the simplest form will grow into the greatest function.

Virgo; other people, relationships, contractual agreements. Oooeee, I’m sorry? I know you tried, you really have. But all the lists and excel sheets and planning in the world couldn't have held onto what you have been trying to make real. Now, see what is left, sometimes it is as cliche as “it was to make room”

Sagittarius; ancestors, home, parents. Is your home feeling crowded or your location feeling like it hasn't been of service to you? Are you leaning further into tradition to get a foot hold? The next foundation won’t shatter, if you can let this one go—the wayward way will serve you, don't try to wield it.

Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius; you have other things on the main table, the things in your forefront will make sense in a glimmer—just stop questioning how backwards they seem and keep collecting inspiration.

Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn; you are at transitional points. The decrescendo of your social presence in the world is shifting. It is time to let go as the sands of time have been pulled with them to dissolve. You can see what is gone and with this the denial in grief can be rectified to ease your transition into the next great plain.

For more you can reach out for a reading or if you would like your sign didn't get the attention comment and let me know!

Continued thoughts: July 22 post Full Moon Cap x2 conj Pluto Rx et al... I was going to continue my ongoing conversation on the fall of modern spiritualism, but this is more pressing... The US Empire’s actions in urgency are a continued joke as the empire crumbles. This is the direction and stance: consumption over people. The cozier you have been, the slower you are, and then there are those who want destruction for their white Jesus (circling back to Neptune and Modern Belief movements).

I have my own perspective and opinions, but I want to note what I've been seeing north of the border—a reflection of privilege set back a decade or more. You know, Canada allegedly got its independence in the 1980s, yet they're stuck in the US 90s? It's actually quite curious. And I don't mean in the way the US has had a 90s resurgence into recession core (cough cough Saturn cycles). It's like Narcissus seeing his reflection. In a broad overview of course without chattel slavery as well as a very different legal and social lens of indigenous presence and rights.

Pluto’s Final Squeeze

What gem will we receive from the hands of Pluto in the coming days? For some, blood diamonds pouring out of rifted skylines.

What gem did you receive from Pluto in Capricorn? What areas of life were impacted by the siege of tradition? (The house that just went through an overhaul). What themes were presented back into 2008 or major events struck in your life and how have they transformed for you?

[knivesin]

DOSSIER // the thousand-headed dragon

name: rurik solokov nickname: rory dob: april 04 / aries / thirty-one gender: cis-man / he/his alignment: chaotic neutral romance: demiromantic bisexual relationship status: single occupation: gas station clerk / contracted underground fighter other identity: defective red eye

faceclaim: aaron taylor johnson. hair: golden brown, naturally curly, but trimmed close to the scalp yet uneven as if sheared with a hunting knife.eyes: cobalt blue.height: 6'3"weight: 220lbs. distinguishing marks: littered with scars and burns all over his body, most noticeable and off-putting is the diagonal scar that runs between his eyes shattering his visage in two.

personality: dogged, capable, vigilant, undaunted, observant, analytical, feral, mercurial, brash, unhinged, wayward, distrustful, detached, etc. aesthetics: the meat-packing sound of a devastating punch, a gleaming blacktop highway like a black river to freedom, the sharp scent of iron and the ivory snarl of a cornered straycharacter inspirations: bucky barnes (the winter soldier) / wolverine (x-men) / kaladin (the way of kings)

SUMMARY.

— tbc.

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "Paint the Town"

(warnings ahead for semi-graphic violence, mentioned and implied death, as well as implied suicidal ideation of 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.

*.*.*

Full story will be out on Friday the 16th of August. For all those impatient, you can find the full story on my patreon.

[bazzybelle]

Get to know me (and you)

Thank you @windsweptinred for tagging me! I am sorry it took me so long to get to this.

1. 3 ships I really like right now: Ohhh this is always tough for me. I have so many ships at all times. Ok well if we're going by my current brain rot...

Dreamling: No one is surprised by this. They caught me by the throat and have not let go for the last year. It's so funny coming in as someone who was familiar with the comics before the Netflix adaptation, because they are not at all romantic. Like, I got no romantic vibes from them (and I'm someone who sees romance vibes in everything). The MOST romance I can see MAYYYYYBE (and this is a massive maybe because I only read this arc after the show aired and I was already getting into Dreamling) happens in The Wake (and I won't go into further details because those are massive spoilers). Why do I like Dreamling? They're just so feral for each other in fanon. Plus it helps that the actors on the show had incredible chemistry with each other (I would also consider HellDream and DreamMuse as other potentials because yeah he looked like he was about to make out with those two actresses).

SnowBaz: I still have so much love for SnowBaz. This was the pair that got me through a massive depression/writing slump. Seriously guys, read Wayward Son and Any Way The Wind Blows if you want an accurate representation about depression and intimacy problems and just finding yourself once that biggest event of your life is over. It's about learning to live after trauma and how to heal. Plus this was also the first CANON queer couple I read and helped me to become comfortable with my own queer identity. Yeah... I may move on and have other loves, but Simon and Baz will always hold an irreplaceable part of my heart.

Tie between Ineffable Husbands and BlackBonnet: These are two very new relationships and I just love them both so much. I don't know much about BlackBonnet, because I've only seen gifs of the second season and nothing more, but from what I've seen, omg I am so excited. As for Ineffable Husbands, they are SO interesting to me and I have been enjoying reading the Metas that have been coming out after the second season. It's so interesting to me, to connect this to SnowBaz, to see the reactions after the second season aired. It reminds me A LOT of the explosion that occurred after Wayward Son was released (an explosion that not only continued the closer we got to AWTWB being released, but also contributed to Rainbow Rowell leaving Twitter). I'm not going to get too deep into this (though @carryonsimoncarryonbaz has been trying to convince to write a meta comparing the two because MY GOD ARE THERE SO MANY CONNECTIONS).

2. First ever ship: Honestly? Sailor Mercury/That boyfriend she had... what was his name? Greg? I thought they were so flipping cute. Plus I liked that the nerdy girl had someone who thought she was cute. As the Nerdy Girl myself, it made me happy to see.

3. Last song:

Fegari - Natasa Theodoridou: One of my favourite Greek songs. I've been in a Greek music mood as of late, and this is a beautiful song. It's about a woman who prays to the moon to bring her husband back from his mistress, and to watch over him if she can't. She also asks the moon to take her from the Earth so that she may see her husband from above.

At least... that's what my husband tells me. Greek music is so morose you guys.

4. Last movie: I watched Barbie last week with my husband. We both loved it so much. It's such a great dark comedy.

5. Currently reading: Lots of fanfiction, but I recently bought a beautiful Jane Austen collection, as well as an illustrated collection of poems by Rumi, so I want to dive into those.

6. Currently watching: My husband on the couch. But in all seriousness, we're probably going to watch either Our Flag Means Death or Silo next.

7. Currently eating: Nothing, but I am craving some cereal.

8. Currently craving: xD Cereal.

Tags: @seiya-starsniper @mentallyinvernation @mallory-x @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @ninemagicks @amywaterwings @namistrella @signiorbenedickofpadua @tryan-a-bex @artsyunderstudy @yellobb @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @spockandthings @wellbelesbian @j-nipper-95 @zigzag-wanderer @fleabaggotme @arialerendeair @aristocratic-otter @messofthejess

[feralchaton]

Overlooked, underestimated, indulgently not intimidating...often cast aside...conundrum of non intention beneath honest veils fluttering betwixt echoing pitch depths.

A mercurial sheen, en purgatorio, beneath iridescent shallows alight in the shimmer of a wayward breeze.

Mirror mirror within her what you see is what you are.

Floating gently upstream battling rip tide, rogue wave, flashing warning! Danger!

The sea one giant billowing curve ahead. Proceed by diving directly into her depths. No doggie treading in the tide pool.

Pedantic paddling. Concentrically condensing into a single drop.

Sucked down; lost in the murky shoals of forget teeming in a waiting room made of wet sand.

Follow the bubbles down for air.

feralchaton

[bleached-d-soul]

So where did Steele Black come from? Is this an OC of yours?

Yup. It is a female version of Mercury Black. A product of my and @the-wayward-arc imagination.

She is pretty much like Mercury but with her own baggage.

If you are wondering why her name is Steele and not Mercy or something like that… Well, I just felt like giving her a name that is a bit more interesting.

[brinkofdiscovery]

Evritt Crashes his Dumb Little Bird

He couldn’t keep flying in this; Mercury could throw him off, or snap a wing if the wind pulled her the wrong way.

Sweet elf knight has a bad day

Contains: Risk of Drowning, Hot Guy Crying __

Evritt held a white-knuckle grip on Mercury’s reins. The wind howled around him, every wayward gust threatening to push them toward the treeline as he struggled to keep the Hawk on her course. Rain stung and whipped at his face, obscuring his vision from behind his goggles even more than the dark clouds that blotted out the sun.

His radio hissed and crackled loudly in his ear. Garbled, broken patches of his mentor’s voice filtered through the static.  He caught bits of his name, something about the storm he was flying through, something about the rescue. It was a miracle anything was getting through, this far from the mainland. He tried to bring his hand to his ear to radio back, but his hands were frozen on the reins; he couldn’t let go, he was too scared to even loosen his grip.

Static screamed again. He caught more garbled fragments of his mentor’s words. The mainland mountain was behind him, a good 15 miles south. He knew about where he was, he could see the trail cutting through the forest from here. Blair had brought him here, insisted on the hike a mile back even though they could have easily landed in the clearing–

There. Barely visible and directly below him was a lake, mirroring back the same deep gray as the sky. He felt Mercury struggle against a downdraft. The forest swayed beneath them both, trees bending so far Evritt thought they might snap. He couldn’t keep flying in this; Mercury could throw him off, or snap a wing if the wind pulled her the wrong way.

Rain swallowed the world around him, the wind pulled at Mercury’s wings. He held the reins tight and swallowed against his nerves before pushing down hard against the back of her neck.

Mercury didn’t hesitate. Almost like she’d had the exact same thought, she folded her wings in and turned into a nosedive. The world melted into gray and black shapes around them, and for a moment Evritt was weightless. They fell with the rain, droplets seeming to hang in the air as they suddenly raced towards the water alongside the downpour. It was an eternity in the span of a few seconds, cut short as they plunged into the ice cold water below. Evritt could only tell that he’d managed to hold onto Mercury’s reins when he felt them get ripped from his hands from the force.

He scrambled for the surface, taking in a desperate gasp the moment he felt air against his skin. He treaded water clumsily, scanning the water around him for any sign of his familiar. There was no sign of rust red feathers in the void of gray that surrounded him. He could feel her. Her fear mingled with his own in the back of his throat. For a brief, harrowing moment he was alone, fear mounting into horror as he waited on any sign of life.

Mercury breached the water’s surface with a sharp cry. Evritt reached for her and, out of instinct, she swam to meet him. He took her lead in one hand, letting himself be pulled alongside her as she swam to shore.

His legs trembled as he climbed onto dry land, eyes wide and unfocused. His chest shuddered with each breath; he couldn’t feel the tears streaming down his cheeks, but knew he was crying. The rocks against the shore offered welcome refuge from the muddy water that threatened to swallow them both. Mercury collapsed as soon as she reached the shoreline, and Evritt only managed to stumble a few feet further before falling to his knees. He sat back on his heels, turning after a moment to face the water. Mercury laid in front of him, motionless save for the steady pulse of her breathing. Her riding gear had managed to stay on, but her saddlebags were open and empty. He let his hand wander down to his hip and traced the empty holster that should have held his radio.

That’s fine. He thought to himself. It's probably waterlogged anyway.

He was still crying, still shaking. He wiped his eyes, uselessly trading tears for rain water, and let his trembling hands fall to rest between his knees. Either his commander would send for him after the storm, or Mercury would have the strength to fly again by tomorrow. He sat shaking, sobs tapering off as he watched the rain fall and the trees bend. There was nothing he could do now but wait.