#oblivious hero

[sunnynwanda]

The Game

Part 2

Warning: manipulation, electricity used for restraining (I have no idea how to phrase this).

"Good mooorning," Hero sings, drawing out their vowels in a tone way too chirping for such an early hour. Villain wonders if they are the psychopath after all.

“What?" Villain blearily turns around, midway through taking a sip of their coffee. They don't have the energy to snarl, opting for a dismissive wave of a hand as they turn back around, ignoring Hero's presence to enjoy their drink. "It could have been good if I didn't have the displeasure if looking at you before I've had my morning coffee."

Hero huffs, unamused at the lack of reaction to their theatrics. But before they can speak again, Villain turns towards them again. "How did you find this place?"

Hero flashes a devilish smile, lifting their hand to show off the handcuffs they are holding. "You’re under arrest." They muse, enjoying this a little too much for Villain's liking.

"Like hell I am," they retort, placing their cup down with a clink. They aren't armed, but that doesn't mean they will go down without a fight.

"Don't make me force you, darling," Hero's voice is much closer now. Villain can feel their breath on the back of their neck, tickling them with a sinister promise.

"You think you can?" They question, standing up to face Hero at a common level. "Let's put that to the test, shall we?"

Hero's smirk is nothing short of sadistic. Oh, how the want to wipe it off Hero's lips. One way or another. But it's too early for that yet.

After a short and rather uneventful tussle and one broken cup - Villain makes sure to curse at Hero for that, since it's their favourite - the cuff clinks around their wrist, the other secured around Hero's to keep them under control. Villain almost breaks character at that statement but catches themself before Hero can notice both of them are exactly where Villain wants them to be.

They are barely restaining the urge to laugh out loud when Hero brings them to their Headquarters, leading them down the stairs towards what Villain assumes are the cells. Their eyes sparkle with anticipation when they pass the double doors, their lips parting in awe at the sight of the equipement they craved held behind tempered glass and layers of laser beams.

Everything was going according to plan. It's almost as if getting an unstable scientist near the most guarded lab in the city was Hero's intention as well. They chuckle, amused at how perfectly Hero played their part in their game, albeit unknowing.

Villain throws their head back, laughing out loud as they are tugged further down the corridor. The cell door creaks open and they are dragged in. Hero takes the cuff off their own wrist and chains Villain's wrists together through the bars of their cage before exiting.

Only when the door shuts with a loud bang does Villain stop cackling. They glance at Hero's smug smile, shaking their head. Their voice is barely a whisper when they speak, leaning in as if to share a secret. "You think you won?"

"I'm pretty sure it's obvious," Hero nods at their restrained hands clasped around the bars and flicks a switch, sending a current through the bars. Villain hisses at the sensation, letting go as their fingers spasm from the shock.

They watch Hero walk away, allowing them to revel in the victory they assumed they had. Once Hero is out of earshot, Villain's face breaks into the widest of grins. Their hands close around the bars, electricity running through them in waves of pain and pleasure.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

Part 2

A/N: based on this amazing request by @thiefofthecrowns. Thank you! I had a lot of fun writing this. I know it's on the shorter side but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless ♡

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose  @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpific @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

[heroes-villains-side-blog]

Hero: that's ridiculous. Villain doesn't have a crush on me

Hero Sidekick: yes they do

Superhero: yes they do

Villain: yes I do!

Source: idk or my friend

I imagine Villain saying this from a hiding spot lol

[chaoticgoodthief]

Mission Archnemesis (Was A Catastrophic Failure)

George Valley Centre for Sisyphean Supers, File M-BS-5

Superhero Alias: Bullet Storm

Archnemesis: Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity

Mission Report: It all started on a gloomy Monday morning. I was drinking my coffee, which to my dismay had gone cold during my intense session of preparing for my first fight with my sworn nemesis. The Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity. After several hours of searching restlessly for clues about the villain’s secret base, I found it. A warehouse in the shady depths of the city. It had been believed to be abandoned for years, but I knew better. With my magnificent powers granted to me by my mysterious magical amulet, I punched down the door with a single blow! 

But alas, The Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity must have sensed my glorious presence, for he had already fled, leaving not a trace of his presence behind. Yet I did not give up. I relentlessly continued my search for the rest of the week, working day and night to scour every last inch of the city for clues to my archnemesis’ whereabouts. But alas, despite my valiant efforts, The Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity nimbly out of my clutches at every turn.

So I have returned, outwitted but not defeated, to gain my strength for the formidable battles ahead, no matter what form they may take. And I shall be prepared.

Signature: BS😎 

Diary of Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity, Page 20

Dear Evil Diary,

Today marks the first day that I, the most evil villain in all the land, shall finally be greeted with someone claimed to be a worthy foe. MUAHAHAHAHAHA! I have an evil scheme planned that will surely show them that no hero could ever overthrow my mighty and tyrannical rule! 

First, I shall send my most loyal sidekick, Mosquito, to muddle the path of their noble quest until they are completely lost! Then, should they somehow surpass this obstacle and find me, I will be draped seductively over my couch, holding a remote control in one hand and petting a cat with the other! And then the remote will activate my trap, The Horror of The Depths, Reaper of Pure Souls and Crusher of Dreams! MUAHAHAHAHAHA! It’s flawless I say, completely flawless!

The hero didn’t show up. Were my evil schemes not wicked enough for them to feel the heroic need to thwart me? Were my riddles not clever enough? Was my dark and secret villain basement too cliche? No. Of course not. I must have just been too bad for them, and they fled in fear of my power, only to return stronger after a mandatory training montage!

Who am I kidding? I CAN’T WAIT THAT LONG! Note to self: Get Mosquito to find me a new hero asap. The most pure-hearted in all of the land, the chosen one, the mighty saviour! Who needs a pathetic wimp like whatever loser couldn’t even bother to show up to my evil scheme? I will reign victorious! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Mosquito’s To-Do List 

Wash the dishes ✔️ 

Male sure your Pong score is higher than Elgye’s. That’ll piss him off ✔️ (Go me!)

Do the laundry ✔️

Automate the system so that Boss can stop waiting a whole hour signing his stupidly long villian name on every single document! ✔️

Pay rent ✔️

Thwart the new archnemesis  ✔️ (I didn’t even have to do anything! Free money, hell yeah!)

Cook dinner ✔️ (It’s always my turn. Ugh. Roommates.)

Evil cackle time with Boss ✔️ (He’s so dumb.)

George Valley Centre for Sisyphean Supers, File BS-6

Superhero Alias: Bullet Storm

Archnemesis: Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity

Mission Report: My tale begins on a foggy Saturday evening. I was on the way back to my secret base after another day relentlessly chasing after the Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity. Then, I saw him. A man obscured by shadows, trying to break into my secret base through the window! I checked the time, and much like I suspected, it was midnight. “Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity! I have caught you in the act!” I declared loudly, aiming a light in his direction.

Alas, he escaped back into the shadow before I could glimpse his face, nimble as the night itself! “Yes,” he growled, voice deep and muffled, “It is I. Find me on the Devil’s Lane next midnight, and we shall have our grand battle.” I refused, determined to catch him then and there! But like a demon returning to the pits of hell, he was gone. Nevertheless, I return victorious, with more information about the mysterious Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity than anyone has ever learnt before! And tomorrow, I will be victorious!

Signature: BS 😎

Diary of Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity, Page 23

Dear Evil Diary,

Today was a beautifully evil day! I, The Midnight Devil, Lord of All Darkness, Master of the Fifth Spiral of Doom and Bane of Humanity, have finally encountered my mortal enemy! I found him, walking through my very lair like he owned it, holding a folder full of my darkest secrets! 

He stood as still as a statue, clearly terrified by my mighty and powerful presence. “Are you the one that they call Bullet Storm? The only being believed capable of ever matching my unfathomable strength?” He stared back in noble silence, and I saw it all. His proud jaw, his golden hair, the subtle curves of muscle on his bare arms. Yes, I thought to myself, This is him. This is the one.

“Come, Bullet Storm, let us begin our glorious battle!” I declared, my cape waving dramatically behind me. But alas, Bullet Storm fled, as nimble as his name suggested. Nevertheless, my encounter with my fabled nemesis has sent villainous passion running through my veins. I began constructing my newest trap, a grand machine of unfathomable intricacy and evil glory. I shall name it the Hellfire Pit, Extinguisher of Light, Forge of the Darkest Flames and Death Bringer! And with it, I shall end this battle for once and for all! MUAHAHAHAHA!!!

Audio File Recorded By Mosquito, Deleted Immediately After Creation

“I don’t usually do this, but god, this week has been a mess. I’ll delete this after I’m done. Yeah, that’s a good move. Hell, I just need to say this insanity out loud.”

“First, I get caught by my roommate while trying to sneak back into the apartment. And for some reason, the dumbass thought I was my boss? So I just went along with it and it worked! God, he’s so stupid.”

“Then, I was leaving work without my suit to try avoid it happening again and my boss didn’t recognise me! He just thought I was his archnemesis for some reason? What is with me always falling in love with idoits? And why do I always play along?!”

“So now I’m playing the goddamn middleman for two conclusion-jumping morons. Why is this my life? What did I do to deserve this? …Ok, maybe that was a bad question, but still!”

New Satrie City Herald, pg 1

Two Rival Supers Fight Same Imposter

A small street on the edge of the city suddenly became lively with action last week when a pair of “eternal rivals” confronted each other. Despite believing to have fought each other for two years, neither recognised the other. And their true nemesis had been hiding just beneath their noses the entire time. More on page 3.

George Valley Centre for Sisyphean Supers, File BS-642

Superhero Alias: Bullet Storm

ID Number: 7188

Reason For Leave (please tick all that apply):

☐ Medical emergency

☐ Identity leak

☐ Pregnancy

☐ Career advancement

☐ Work commitments

☑ Familial obligations

☐ Jury duty / Court hearing

☐ Personal Illness

☑ Unexpected circumstances

☐ Religious holiday

☐ Death in family

☐ Doctor’s appointment

☑ Other (please specify):

I’M GETTING DOUBLE MARRIED!!!

Signature: BS 😎

@black-rose-events hope I'm not late!!!

[puddleslimewrites]

Peace Treaty

"Dip me."

"Huh?"

"Now."

Heroine took a step to the right and dipped her partner. Despite the abrupt demand, she managed to time it just right so that it didn't look too out of place among the other dancers.

When Villainess came back up, she had a sinister smirk on her face. "Oh, he's so suspicious." She laughed quietly to herself as Heroine spun her again.

On the other side of the dance floor, Villain and Hero weren't having nearly as easy a time.

"This Hero-Villain dance is bullshit." Slicked back hair and a nice suit did nothing to mask Villain's vulgarity. "Who taught you how to dance? Do you even know what you're doing?" He sneered as Hero fumbled his footing for the third time in the last five minutes. His dance partner gave him a sheepish smile.

Villain turned his glare on the girls dancing, effortless, across the room. "I know she's scheming. She better not ruin my date," he grumbled.

Hero gazed at him, curious. "Date?"

Villain grimaced, realizing he'd spoken aloud. He kept his next thoughts silent.

"Who's 'she'?" Hero pressed. "Villainess?" He turned to look, earning a sharp smack on the arm from Villain.

"Don't be so obvious!" he hissed.

Despite Villain's warning, Hero locked eyes with Heroine, who merely smiled and spun her partner, leaving her back to him. He'd only gotten a glimpse of Villainess's expression, but they both seemed happy enough dancing with one another.

A small frown tugged at Hero's lips. Villain hated that stupid kicked puppy look. He didn't believe for one second that Hero wasn't aware he was making it.

"Does she have to be up to something?" Hero asked.

"It's Villainess! Of course she's up to something!" Villain snapped. "You should know this. She's your nemesis."

"Is she? I thought we traded." He'd only been fighting Villainess on and off for about a month before the treaty was drawn up. They were familiar enough to know some of the other's tricks, but Hero hadn't gotten a good read on her yet.

Villain rolled his eyes hard enough to hurt. "We've only traded partners for the dance, moron." He scoffed and turned his head away so he didn't have to look at his partner's stupid face. "Why did I get the dull one?" Of all the heroes in this blasted city to get paired with...

Hero frowned even more. "Hey...that was uncalled for."

Villain shouldn't have looked back. He knew he shouldn't have. They danced in silence until the end of the song, at which point Villain dropped his hands from Hero's shoulders, gloved fingers fiddling with the cufflinks on his sleeve.

"You're right." His face contorted as if saying those words caused him physical pain. He cleared his throat in preparation for the worst. "I'm...sorry."

Hero stared at him until Villain regained enough composure to shoot him a hard glare. "What?" he finally snapped.

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?" Hero repeated. In his defense, it was a rather unprecedented moment. Villain was well-known for a lot of things and being unapologetic was only second to crude language. (Hero honestly didn't mind. Villain definitely seemed more bark than bite, though he wouldn't dare say that to his enemy's face.) An apology as sincere as the one he'd just gotten was the last thing Hero - or anyone else for that matter - would have expected to come out of his mouth.

Villain worked his jaw with a look in his eyes that Hero could only describe as murderous intent. Light chatter filled the air as the musicians took a short break.

Villain pivoted on his heel, heading straight for Heroine and Villainess.

~

"You-" Villain jabbed his forefinger into Heroine's chest, "-need to take your idiot back."

Villainess slapped the offending finger away and ran a hand over the fabric of Heroine's dress as if to remove any taint from her colleague's offensive gesture. "Hands off," she warned. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she took the brunt of Villain's stare.

Villain rolled his eyes and declared, "This dance is over. We're leaving."

Villainess raised her eyebrows in an exaggerated show of disbelief. "Already? Was he that bad?"

Villain glowered at her just as Hero finally caught up. He'd taken his time, not wanting to anger the villain further by following too closely.

Villainess sighed. "Well...I suppose we've stayed our welcome." In far too natural a fashion, she turned to her date and kissed her on the cheek. Heroine stood frozen in shock, eyes wide and jaw slack.

Without acknowledging Heroine's reaction, Villainess blew a kiss at Hero. "I'll see you on Monday, hm? I've got the perfect plan cooked up for you." Her smile was content as she calmly followed after Villain, who was already picking his way through the crowd to leave the hall.

[halloiambored]

Random Snippet

CW: hero x villain fluff again.

A gasp from behind them startled Hero half to death, their frantic jump nearly spilling their iced latte.

“HERO!!”

Before they fully recovered, Hero turned around to glare with every ounce of hatred they could muster.

Naturally, Villain was all the more delighted. Rocking their signature smirk. “Oh don’t look at me like that, you should have noticed me come in. Not my fault you’re oblivious.”

“You scared me! I almost dropped my coffee - all over my favorite shirt, no less. Knowing you, you did it on purpose.”

“Did not. But Hero!” Villain left their spot by the door to excitedly stroll closer, “You’re so tan!”

Hero thought it was impossible, but their glare burned hotter. They definitely weren’t blushing… just a little sun burnt. Obviously.

“You’re so tan! Oh my gosh, can I touch it?”

As Villain reached out a hand to poke their arm, Hero’s menacing look was replaced by one of flustered embarrassment.

“Nope - do not, Villain. Why are you even here?”

Pouting, Villain refrained from poking them anyways. An action which, as you may have guessed, required an exorbitant amount of self control.

“Pppplease can I touch it? How am I supposed to know it’s you? You’re like a completely different person.”

“You almost spilled my coffee! Consider this my just retribution.” By now, Hero’s voice was tilted on the edges, their expression more amused than angry.

Villain took that as a sign to continue. Man, they’d missed their Hero.

“Mmmm, nope! You’ve been gone for too long. I will admit, that I may have been a little too happy to see you,” Villain was practically beaming, though their eyes held a dangerous gleam, “but I mean, I couldn’t help it. Has anyone ever told you that you are stunning?”

Hero knew that look. They were screwed.

Leaning in closer, Villain’s voice dropped for just a moment, “Both in your suit and out of it?”

Hero opened their moth to respond, but the words got caught in their throat. What on earth were they supposed to say to that?

“I’m touching it now,” the triumphant Villain declared in an abruptly polite and bubbly tone. In combination with their deceptively innocent (and scandalously close) smile, Hero was delayed in processing the threat.

What…

By the time they caught up, Villain had pressed their pale hand against Hero’s darkened collarbone.

[automeris-io-moth]

Found

A tear crept on her face, her hands cradling the box, shielded carefully in between her fingers, threaded with purpose around the irregular wood, badly shaved off chips sticking in her fingers.

Dorian was trembling in the corner of the room, quiet enough, or so she hoped, to not be noticed by the ones looking for the box, looking for her to open it too. Her heart raced at the sound of the voices, no longer shy or trying to cover their steps, to pretend to not be dangerous for her, they knew she knew they were, and the facade of gentle harmnellesnes had fallen hours ago.

It had been quite a task, she thought, to keep the appearances for so long, and they had been prize-deservingly good at pretending.

Air left her lungs, and little made it back inside, and short breaths were far too loud for her to trust herself to keep trying, so, her hands flew to her mouth as untraceably as she could manage, watching, to ehr demise, the known steps of someone she once called a friend, cross right before her, stopping to lean back on the table she was hiding beneath, pulling the clothing covering it just slightly as he supported his weight over it.

If her calculations were correct, four people were inside the room, and one, if not reinforcement had been called, stood right outside, guarding the doors. The steps were easily recognizable, rhythmic and exclusive to each inside, and all, she knew well, remembered from college, from nights out, and the domestic setting of visiting her parent’s house, going up and down the stairs and in and out of the driveway.

Outside was the largest of them, almost two metres tall, she remembered him flaunting, wide and noticeably strong, though with what little she knew about them, any would be enough to spot her if she made a run for it through the door or the second-store window. And Dorian was painfully aware of the fact that she was no match for the others in the room, unable to outrun them, to outmatch them, and, more relevant for the time and place, to avoid them taking what she so carefully held between hands.

And mockingly aware of their advantage, they spoke in casual, almost comforting voices. As if the girl trembling in the widest cabinet of a desk had just broken up with someone, as if she had just had a fight with her mother or a bad grade.

“Your plan did work,” one said, casually enough to fool anyone passing by “they did exactly what you said they would, and we got them right where we wanted them.”

Of course it had worked, Dorian knew as much, the hypotheticals, or what she thought as them fell too clearly in its place, the acting was predicted by miles and all their reasonings had been laid ahead by actions done way before her friends had even noticed the main reason there.

What she had not predicted, and fell obvious when hiding inside a supplies cabinet in a way-too-big kitchen, was the why, why was she asked to solve a thing so intricate disguised as leisure.

The steps were getting closer, she felt, somewhere, that they already knew where she was, and it was a privilege given for her to come out on her own, yet, that would be accepting their offerings, and her surrender served on a golden plate.

Perhaps, she thought, throwing the box in her hands to distract them, and running the other way. Dorian remembered everything inside for hours she had passed in front of the main office's computer reading over and over on the files, writing the passwords in her calves, hiding them under her high shocks, in her forearms, in sticky notes inside her shoes, she needed just to make it out.

Big was the time spent in silence after her best friend’s words, her heart pumping inside her rib cage, and her hands, still gripping onto the box, sweating more and more as more unending seconds passed by.

“That said though, you seem to have gotten too close," he continued, seemingly unbothered by the situation, voice calm and steps assured "our fault, with that skill you demonstrate so naturally it was meant to happen."

The doors creaked open slowly, her heart could be heard pumping all throughout the room, she was dizzy.

"But it doesn't have to be this way, with time, companionship and care I'm sure you'll come to see things our way, lovely."

_

Masterlist.

Heey,

Sorry I disappeared and thanks you for your patience, college has been hell lately with all the field work we've been doing lately while still having exams and homework and presentations.

Today I bring you tension, and I hope this week I can get through some of the requests I got this week (I love them please keep them coming) before I leave to the mountains for another class, I'm making a separate list for those, still separated by genre and all, just to keep it organised, unless they are for continuations of the ones already started.

That's all, I hope you like it.

<3

[the-sidekick-club]

Case of the pockets

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part  5 : Epilogue

Written by: @tratieisdabest ★ @heroes-villains-side-blog​​ ★ @just-a-space-rabbit​​    

TW:Restraints, Prison mention

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

They switched places, with Villain Sidekick taking centre stage. 

“Ahem. As you can see,” they indicated the relevant area on their board, “ever since pockets on heroes’ super suits have been introduced, replacing the old suits and the court-mandated handbags, the crime rate has dropped from 43% to 30%. More criminals are being caught, and they’re being caught faster and easier, almost 46 minutes faster on average! Not to mention that less gadgets are being forgotten on crime scenes, only 17 per 100 from 36 per 100, which means less gadgets for villains and civilians to get their hands on.

"The lack of pockets in the past really slowed heroes down," they said while walking across the room like a professor giving a lecture, "They had no gadgets nor weapons on their person, having to resort to agency-mandated handbags which had their own set of problems."

"Your stats are impressive and all," Hero Sidekick tried to interject, "but this is about feelings not—"

"Shush," Villain Sidekick scolded, then continued. “As I was saying, and as my colleagues so annoyingly demonstrated, agency-mandated handbags were poorly designed, first of all, having no compartments whatsoever, just one big black hole to put all your stuff in.

"This was cumbersome; heroes are busy professionals. Not only did they use their handbags for weapons and gadgets, but also for paperwork, investigative instruments, clues, their ID, wallet, what have you.

"Searching through those awful contraptions lost heroes a lot of valuable time, giving villains the chance to escape, strategize, or jump heroes while they’re distracted.

"Now, it is obvious that villains had everything to gain from the old suits and handbags, and heroes were at a disadvantage. That is why, when Hero got their new suit, Villain seemed upset and distracted.

"Therefore!" They stopped and turned to the audience, a big smile on their face, "I conclude, without a shadow of doubt, that Villain orchestrated the whole thing – they infiltrated the hero agency and designed those horrid suits and handbags so that they could have the advantage over you dumb heroes!” Villain Sidekick declared proudly then crossed their arms expecting a round of applause.

Unfortunately, they didn’t even get a chance to look at everyone’s reactions before Supervillain yelled out.

"They didn't do it! I did!”

Everyone turned to the master criminal, the same question on their lips, “What?” 

Supervillain rose from their seat, “Villain can barely talk to their crush, do you think they would be able to design a whole attractive outfit just for them?” 

Villain was now blushing again, much more furiously than before, but no one, not even Villain Sidekick, could come to Villain's defence; everyone was stunned silent.

"It was me, little sidekick club,” they continued, “I did the whole thing! I infiltrated the agency, designed most of the costumes myself, I even added those ridiculous impractical handbags to top it all off!"

Throughout all of this, Villain Sidekick just stood there, mouth open, until both Henchman and Hero Sidekick yelled, "Wait, there really was a pocket conspiracy!?" They paused, processing the new information, then Hero Sidekick continued, "I… I guess it makes sense, but I TOLD YOU Villain had a crush on Hero! Look, even Supervillain agrees!" They whipped around to look at Villain Sidekick smugly, clearly happier about having more support for their case, than about having a crime boss confess to a large-scale crime in front of so many witnesses.

"Well… alrighty," Hero cleared their throat. "I've heard enough. Hero Sidekick, could you—” Hero Sidekick didn't even let Hero finish, springing up to untie them, while Villain Sidekick did the same for Villain. 

All eyes landed on Supervillain. The real bad-guy was right there, and they had wronged all of them… well except for Henchman, who had once again seemed to disappear into the background. Everyone else started crowding in on Supervillain, cornering them. 

Surprisingly, one could say suspiciously, they let themselves be arrested without complaint.

As they were being cuffed by Hero, Villain Sidekick suddenly felt a hard pat on their shoulder. "You know, I’m gonna miss your villainous antics, I mean, since you’re basically a hero now," Henchman grinned at Villain Sidekick’s distressed face.

“Nooooo!” Villain Sidekick buried their face in their hands, garnering another pat from Henchman. 

"Now, now, I’m sure you’ll make a great hero." Henchman said, then turned to Hero, "Hey, Hero! Bet you my pockets are better than yours!"

Hero unceremoniously shoved Supervillain over to Hero Sidekick, "You’re on!"

Hero Sidekick stood there awkwardly between Supervillain and Villain, glancing back and forth at the two, probably making emergency plans in case the two teamed up.

"So, Villain. how’d you like my plan?" Supervillain asked, quite pleased with themselves and not at all fazed with the fact that they were currently handcuffed and would be soon off to prison. 

Villain just sighed, "Really, Supervillain? Really?"

"Yup!" Supervillain chuckled deviously.

Seeing how distracted the two villains were by their conversation, Hero Sidekick took the opportunity to make sure Supervillain’s cuffs were secure enough. 

After they were sure the cuffs were secure, they began to relax; while Supervillain had escaped many a containment cell, they had never defeated the hero agency’s tried-and-true power repressing cuffs. 

This was quite confusing for the agency, seeing as how each cell Supervillain had been placed in had increasingly powerful walls, with new types of metals having been invented just for them, but each of which still failed. The master criminal always escaped their prison without leaving any witnesses or evidence that may give the heroes a clue of their power, instead, it looked like they just walked out the door.

Regardless, now Hero Sidekick only had to worry about one villain, who seemed far more focused on Supervillain than the sidekick holding onto them.  

"And," Supervillain continued in a whisper, leaning in towards Villain, "I made sure to make your crush's outfit extra distracting, showing off those gorgeous muscles you love so much."

Villain’s blush was at maximum capacity now, and if it could grown any redder, it would have. They turned away from Supervillain, trying to avoid embarrassment, but their eyes accidentally fell on the same hero they were trying not to think about. 

Much to Supervillain’s delight, Villain froze. Their eyes were fixed on Hero but not their face, no no no, instead, it was Hero’s arms that made Villain’s brain buffer. It seemed that in order to give Henchman a full walkthrough of all of their pockets and compartments, Hero had folded up their sleeves, giving Villain passers-by a full view of the very same muscles that Villain had pretended not to miss. Those forearms… wow. It took all of Villain's willpower not to swoon.

But of course, Hero remained oblivious, far too busy showing Henchman their pockets and all the things they could carry in them.

[lilislegacy]

percy is the dad who can’t remember any of his kids’ friends names

percabeth daughter: hey dad, can kate come over later?

percy: who’s that?

percabeth daughter: what do you me- dad she came over for dinner last week. the one who rides with us all the time to dance class? the one with dark hair and glasses who comes over all the time?

percy: …not ringing a bell

annabeth: *rolling her eyes in background*

percabeth daughter: dad you watched a basketball game with her dad last month? he’s the one who brought the steaks he grilled

percy: oh yeah! steak guy! he was great. you know, i think he has a daughter your age

percabeth daughter: *looks to annabeth*

annabeth: in my defense, your father is very handsome

percy: *confidently smiles*

[k3r0deku]

kacchan: *angrily* i dont know how to make it any more obvious

deku: wha

kacchan: *grabs him by shirt collar and kisses him with aggression*

kacchan: please tell me you get it now

deku: …

deku: he’s so mad he had to find a new way to punch me

[stealingyourbones]

What if Bruce found out he had a biological kid in Amity Park? And upon visiting, finds out she’s entangled herself with the local vigilante/villain shenanigans.

Sam had never in her life wanted to know her parents had had a one night stand with fricking Brucie Wayne, but here she is, being introduced to her himbo bio dad and stabby little brother.

oh Sam hates Brucie Wayne. he's so full of himself and is such a pompous asshole. She admits that the policies his company attempts to uphold, the charities they fund, and their green energy goal is all impressive, but he's just another fruit loop.

[yendts]

messing around with their designs cause this interpretation is growing on me. might change them more later idk

[sunnynwanda]

Seduction Subversion

Warning: Suggestive. Spicy. Quite descriptive. Minors DNI

When Hero decided to seduce Villain to keep them occupied before a high-profile event in the city, they did not expect their nightly patrols to turn into regular trips to the enemy's lair. And yet they did.

The mayor had summoned them that day to inform them that the country's elite would be arriving shortly and that they needed to keep Villain as far away from the city hall as possible. Any necessary resources would be provided for them to keep the criminal at bay.

Hero spent two full days thinking about possible distractions, but nothing seemed grand enough to overshadow the event. It was then that the insane idea first crossed their mind. They shook their head at the ridiculousness of the thought and let out a low chuckle. One must be either completely deranged or desperate to even consider that. They were sat by their desk, sipping their eighth coffee in four hours. Come to think of it, it could have been a side effect of excessive caffeine consumption. Adding the issue they had been mulling over day and night created a ground for asinine ideas. They brushed it off as swiftly as it had popped into their head. Yet the thought never truly left their mind.

They land on a ledge, glancing over their shoulder to ensure no one is following, and let themselves in. Villain's bedroom smells of lavender and candle wax - the scent had become familiar to them in the last couple of months. They remember the first time they snuck here. Villain had raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we agreed to refrain from attacking on personal territory?" they had asked, unamused by Hero's intrusion.

"I'm not here to attack," despite their calm demeanour, Hero's heart was quivering in panic in their chest. They shrug to look more at ease.

"Then?" Villain disregarded the gesture, facing them with confidence. It wasn't entirely unexpected that Hero would show up today of all days. They expected to be arrested under ridiculous charges when they learnt of the high-ranked visitors that were of no interest to them. Yet they didn't say anything.

"I want to talk," Hero started vaguely. They had no idea what to say. They hadn't thought this far ahead because they had been freaking out as is. Thinking about it was only going to reel them more. After all, the only way of avoiding anxiety was pure improvisation. Except it wasn't helping Hero's anxiety now.

"Well?" Villain had prompted, and Hero did the only thing they could think of. They grabbed Villain by the shoulders and smacked their lips over Villain's mouth.

In all honesty, Hero expected a slap or a punch to the guts, but none followed. Instead, Villain's lips parted in a gasp, allowing Hero's tongue to slide in. Their fingers dug into Hero's forearms, and Hero, lost in the moment, pulled Villain closer, only to be pushed hard against the chest. They stumbled back, a horrified expression plastered on their face. Villain's eyes were unreadable.

"I- I'm sorry," they whispered, ashamed of what they had done. But, Villain pressed a finger to their lips, silencing them as they walked towards them, forcing Hero to take several steps back.

They only stopped when the back of Hero's knees hit the edge of their bed. Hero glanced at it before meeting the barely controlled gaze of their nemesis, waiting for their next move. But Villain seized to move, allowing Hero to decide if they were ready to proceed. If they wanted to. Hero could have stopped right then and there. Yet they did not. 

When they pulled Villain's shirt off, leaving a trail of kisses on their collarbones, Hero couldn't remember why they were there. When Villain leaned in, raking their long fingers through their hair, Hero couldn't remember what their mission was. By the time Villain rolled off them, falling onto the bed as heavy pants escaped their lips, Hero had forgotten there was an event in the city.

All they could remember were the soft moans and hushed curses Villain let out as they undressed each other. The way their muscles tensed and eyes darkened when Hero bit their earlobe or dug their nails into their thighs, pulling them closer until no space was left between them. The way their breath shuddered when their chests pressed together in feverish friction.

Hero jumps off the windowsill and crosses the room, discarding their clothes as they go. They slide under the covers and are met by Villain's arms that wrap around them and pull them against their lover's chest.

"You're late today," Villain whispers into their ear. Hero nods. They want to tell them about the patrol, complain about some foolish thieves that tried to rob a convenience store, but the moment Villain's lips touch their shoulder, they forget everything.

When Hero decided to seduce Villain to keep them occupied before a high-profile event in the city, they did not expect to utterly and irrevocably crash into love with the enemy. And yet they did.

Masterlist

[heroes-villains-side-blog]

Hate, Threat, Marry. Version 1.

Inspo: You can see that iconic tweet here, or here with something I had to say about it.

---

“I hate you.”

“If you hate me so much, why don't you marry me?”

“That's not...” they sighed, “who in their right mind would marry you?”

“Well, someone who is in love with me, for one.”

Hero scoffed.

“Or someone who cares about and loves me.”

Hero scoffed again.

“Or,” they shrugged, “I guess someone who really hates me having my powers.”

“… What was that last one?”

“Hmm? What was what?”

“You know what, what was that about your powers?”

“Well, I’m glad I have your attention for once. Would it kill you to ask me how my day has been? What my favorite color is?”

“Villain, I swear,” their grip on their collar tightened and Villain was pulled upward, just a smidge.

“Fine, Mx Bossy. If you must know. There's this ritual… jokingly called the 'Sifar Marriage'. You can only do it under the full moon once every 10 years. It kinda tethers the powered with someone else so that their powers are grounded, so they can live something of a normal life.”

“… So you won't have powers?”

“No. Or I won't as much. But only as long as the other person agrees to some conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“What, you got a test or something? I'm not your personal librarian.”

“Sure, sure. When's the next full moon?”

“Um, every month?”

“I mean the one that'll take your powers.”

“Wow, way to be subtle. It's in 3 years.”

“Interesting.”

“What?” Villain grinned. “You gonna marry me or something?” 

But Hero wasn’t listening anymore. They had just found out something that could put an end to something, and someone, that had been the bane of their existence for so long. 

And they just had to bide their time for three years. 

Three. Short. Years. 

Three more dreadful years and then they’d be free…

While Hero was smiling to themself, lost in thought, Villain wasn’t looking too good. 

Their mischievous grin had dropped to a nervous quiver, their eyes had gone wide and almost puppy-like. “You… are you gon- gonna marry me?”

“That would make my job so much easier. You not having powers,” Hero muttered to themself more than Villain, their gaze still not meeting theirs.

“Yeah, but, you- you'll have to- there are some conditions.”

That's when Hero turned, so suddenly that Villain’s words got stuck in their throat.

“Oh, sweetie,” they pouted, their dark eyes sparkling like the night sky. “I'll find out those conditions. And you better have found someone else to ‘marry’, stopped being a villain, or bloody died —”

“— in three years?”

“— in three. Short. Years,” their eyes narrowed, “Or you're going to be stuck. With me.”

“Do you mean- is that a- a- will you- do you promise?”

“Promise?” That got a confused, lopsided smile out of them. One without hate or malice, a stark contrast to the rest of their speech. “It’s not a promise. It’s a threat.”

“You're gon- gonna marry me?”

“Villain, why ever are you nervous already? You still have three years before I come chasing after you with a ring. If the conditions suit me, that is. Work smarter, not harder, darling. And I'm tired of working oh, so hard to stop you.” 

“It- it-” Villain couldn't believe what they were hearing, “It's called the 'Sifar Moon and Marriage' and- and- the rules —”

“ — Ha! Like I'd trust anything that comes out of your mouth. I'll do my own research, thank you very much. And you better hope you find someone else to ‘marry’ by then, because I will make good on my promise.”

And with that, Hero let go and vanished in a cloud of smoke.

---

Villain couldn't believe it.

Hero, their hero, was going to marry them?

Sure, it was technically a marriage of convenience… and a threat… and they hated Villain. 

But regardless! 

Marrying Hero? Marrying them… and having a life with them… it was a dream come true.

It sounded too good to be true, but Villain pushed that thought away.

Villain had always wanted a home, a normal life. But life just wouldn't let them.

But if Hero went with the Sifar Marriage, if Villain lost their powers because of it, then they'd have a chance at normal. For the first time in how long, they actually had hope for a better future.

And… they'd be with Hero. 

Hero.

The person who hated them with a passion. 

The person who they loved with all their heart.

Maybe, if they tried to show them how much they cared, how much they loved them… Hero could one day love them back?

Fin 💍

A/N:

I wanted to spite @raineandsky because they wrote something non-fluffy/non-goofy based on that tweet — can you believe it? The nerve!

I wrote them a stern letter about it like the good, responsible Tumblrina I am 😌

But then I had to write it myself :/

Took some time and brainpower for the prompt to make sense snippet-wise. But then I ended up with 2 or 3 versions of this but idk if I wrote them down so I guess I just gotta remember them from memory 🥲

Writing journey: I tried to talk about sparkling dark eyes and practice desc. But I'm just not feeling right rn. I did notice that my sentences begin with "Their" "He" "She" too much, so tried to fix that a bit. But I really just want to post it for some reason, so maybe part 2 or another version (if I ever write it) will have better desc.

Back to the masterpost ↩

[10sim]

study "date" (deku is oblivious)

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up to Pierce the Veil, this morning.

He buries his head in his pillow and screams as loud as he can.

Of course, it does nothing. The music is playing inside his head, because his father is the most annoying being ever to pop into existence. Apollo’s children get whatever song suits their father’s current mood — not a good sign that it’s emo today, fuck — blasted directly into their cranium as the sun crests over the horizon, every single day, just so they know how much their dear papa is thinking of them.

Will, however, is head counsellor. And as head counsellor, he gets his daily brain torture exactly one half hour before the sun rises, because fuck him, apparently.

Has he not been through enough.

He screams again, quieter this time, conscientious of his still-sleeping siblings. The song does not go away. It will not go away until he is on his feet, any chance of unconsciousness having swiftly betrayed him.

The creaky floorboards groan in protest as he slams onto them, not bothering to remove himself from his blankets before rolling onto the floor. He considers remaining there, in the fetal position, strangling himself in his tangled sheets, for twelve point three seconds. Then he remembers he has a stupid shift in the stupid infirmary that he stupid runs, and forces himself to get up.

“Being alive is a prison,” he laments hoarsely. It has, tragically, considerably less effect when there is no one awake to hear his complaints, because it is four forty-two in the godsdamn mcshitting fucking morning.

His father is not getting so much as a grape as an offering today. He’s going to scrape an entire plate for Auntie Artemis.

He takes an extra-long time brushing his teeth, spitefully determined to be two minutes late for his shift. No one will notice, because no one is awake. The thought soothes him.

Nine minutes to his shift, he forces himself out of the bathroom and pads over to his dresser. He has no surgeries planned, today, so he’s not gonna bother with the scrubs, and he’s gotta do inventory, so he needs pockets. He picks out his head medic shirt and his lucky cargo shorts and starts to dress himself, squeezing his eyes shut to try and force his muscles into keeping him awake. He can do this. It’s fine. He’s got training with Nico today, so that’s something he can look forward to. If he can distract Kayla and her teasing mouth with training Gracie, he can ogle all he pleases as the son of Hades attempts, for the ninetieth time, to teach him how to use a sword without beheading himself. It’ll be great.

He barely manages to swallow back a shriek when he misses the leg hole for his shorts and goes sprawling.

Fuck mornings. This is an omen. He should go the fuck back to sleep.

As if hearing his thoughts, the stupid song in his head blasts louder. It’s hard to make out the words with all the screaming and drums and all, but he’s almost certain he hears the lyrics, don’t you dare!

“Al-right,” he snaps, scowling. “I’m going, I’m going. Lemme get my damn shirt on, yeesh.”

It takes him a second to find the head hole in the dark — because the godsdamn sun is not up yet — but after a minute of fumbling he manages.

He realizes, the second he tugs it over his chest, that something is wrong.

“What the —”

Now, Will orders his shirts in bulk. He has to. He’s the only one wearing them, after all, and the sheer amount of times per day that he is covered in bodily fluids is a number he chooses, for sake of his sanity, not to count. He is well used to the process of ordering his shirts along with other linen and infirmary supplies. Every fortnight, without fail, he orders a set of orange Head Medic t-shirts one size too big, because it gives him a little breathing room without being too baggy.

When he pulls on this shirt, however, it practically clings to his skin. He can practically feel the fabric groaning as it stretches over his broad shoulders.

And, worst of all — the hem barely brushes the edge of his ribcage.

“Austin,” he growls, practically lunging for his drawer to inspect the rest of them.

As he suspected, each one of them has shrunk. If it weren’t for the Head Medic decal printed across them in bold, Will would assume his laundry was mixed up with Yan’s.

“Why do I still try to assign him laundry duty,” he hisses, cursing himself for his oversight. He’s been busy lately — he didn’t do a very thorough job writing this week’s chore chart. He must’ve put Austin on laundry, and Austin is never allowed to do laundry, because for whatever reason, no matter what he does, he ruins someone’s clothes.

“Fuck!”

His watch beeps at him, LED display reading five o’clock. His shift has already started. All of his shirts are shrunk, and he’s out of time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He shoves his feet into a pair of flipflops, sprinting for the infirmary. Hopefully, today is on the warmer side, or else he’s going to freeze, on top of looking ridiculous. Fuck.

———

Thankfully, the first couple hours of his shift are blissfully empty and quiet. With no one to distract him, he manages to finish the laundry list of chores he’s been putting off the last week — nectar and ambrosia restock, cabinet reordering, file sorting, et cetera. He has the place spick and span in under ninety minutes.

Unthankfully, he starts to get bored fast.

Feeling an awful lot like his father, which is unfortunate, he begins to slip into what his siblings call “the dramatics” (and what Will calls rational emotional responses, but, take some, lose some). Without his permission, he begins to glance at the door every few minutes, disappointed every time no one is there. He spins around his desk chair, kicking half-heartedly at the desk. He sighs, once or twice, with a tone that he would call tastefully bored and Lou Ellen might label as histrionic. After a half hour, there is on his face, Will cannot deny, a pretty big pout.

In his defense, he can hear the sounds of the rest of the camp waking up through the open windows: laughter, cursing, yawning, Drew chasing her siblings around the camp with her knife, shrieking, promises to return stolen hair straighteners, begging for mercy. Morning sounds. Familiar sounds.

“Ugh,” he mumbles, sinking back into his chair. Then, for good measure, he frowns harder and repeats with more feeling: “Ugh.”

As if summoned by his yearning, disparaging loneliness, the little bell by the door rings as someone stumbles in. Will brightens, jumping to his feet.

“Hi!

“Hey, Will, could I get some ambrosia, Sebastian stole Drew’s straightener and she — woah.” Mitchell freezes. “Um. Woah. Huh?”

Will rushes over to the supply cabinet. “Yeah, of course! I heard the screeching, did she stab him fully or just slash him? Should I come over? Should he come here?”

“Hnngh,” Mitchell says.

Will frowns, hands stilling on the ambrosia. “Mitchell? Are you okay?” He tilts his head. “You’re — really red, dude, maybe you should —”

“I! Hngh! Am fine!” Mitchell shouts, scrambling back from Will’s outstretched hand. He won’t meet Will’s eyes. “Actually, Will, you know what? Sebastian needs to learn, actually, and he’s barely even bleeding, so I’m gonna —” He stumbles backwards, knocking his head into the doorframe. “I’m just going to! You keep that, Will, I’ll chest you — see! I will see you later! Goodbye!”

He turns away and flees, leaving Will alone, again, with a container of ambrosia hanging limply in his fingers.

“That was weird,” he mumbles, and turns to put it back away.

———

Mitchell is far from the first Incident — capitalised, because they are indeed Incidents — of the day.

Maybe a half hour after Mitchell leaves, two more Aphrodite campers walk in. Will smiles, turning to greet them, but before he can even say anything, they shriek in unison and sprint off. As silly as he knows it is, a bubble of hurt begins to bloom in his chest — is everyone actually avoiding him today? Or does it just feel like they are?

(The ADHD makes it hard to tell. He gets his feelings hurt really easily, and constantly has to remind himself what is and isn’t rejection. It doesn’t help that he sometimes feels trapped, as one of the only campers with vitakinesis and therefore constantly in the infirmary. It’s hard not to feel a little isolated. But usually, he’s got his friends and his siblings to remind him he’s not alone. Hopefully, today is just a fluke.)

Nobody else comes into the infirmary during breakfast. Will eats the oatmeal one of the nymphs brings him, smiling at her and thanking her profusely — he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. She leaves pretty quickly, too, but a lot of the nymphs are kinda squeamish around the infirmary, so Will doesn’t think too much of it. In fact, he‘s put most of his shitty morning behind him until Kayla walks in for the start of her shift.

“Huh,” she says, after a solid minute of staring.

Will shifts defensively. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just preparing for our day, brother dear, pay no mind.”

“You are so strange,” he mutters, but he’s long since given up on trying to understand her.

For the next hour, things are almost normal. He and Kayla chat as the freshen up the linen on the cots, treating the odd camper who comes in for lava wall burns or sword scrapes. The infirmary is rarely ever empty once the camp activities start, but in terms of numbers, today’s a pretty slow day. Will starts to feel fidgety pretty quickly.

“Oh, ho ho ho.”

Will grins when he hears his friend’s voice, shoving his clipboard aside and standing to greet them. Lou Ellen and Cecil linger by the door, matching grins on their faces. (Which, usually, would be cause for great alarm, but Will is so bored and so happy to see them that he decides, just this one time, that whomever they’ve just robbed will just have to be an unfortunate victim. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too valuable.)

“Hey, guys! Please tell me you can stay for a bit. I’ve still got a few hours left of my shift and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Of course we’ll stay, Willy,” Cecil says innocently. “How could we refuse with such a wonderful view?”

Will is too happy to bother correcting him about his name.

There’s not much to do, so the three of them sit by the nurse’s station and chat. If anyone asks, they’re talking strategy for the upcoming capture the flag game, but really, Lou Ellen heard Damien White from Nike and Chiara Benvenuti from Tyche arguing behind the canoe shed again, so they’re talking shit.

“I honestly don’t get what she sees in him,” Lou Ellen whispers, and Will is nodding fervently, “Right? I mean if she’s happy then good for her, obviously, but come on —”

“Hey, Will?”

Will leans around Cecil, looking for who called him. A group of maybe nine campers crowd around the door, all standing behind one of Cecil’s sisters, Julia. Many of them are giggling.

“We, uh, totally need your help.”

“Here we go,” mutters Cecil. Lou Ellen starts snickering.

Will hardly hears them, absentmindedly grabbing his stethoscope and toolkit.

“What happened? Was there a fight, do you need —”

“Rosamie’s leg is, like, super sprained.” Julia gestures to a younger girl behind her. “We got her this far, but she needs you to lift her to a cot so she can rest.”

“Hermes’ fucking wings,” Cecil says under his breath.

“O….kay,” Will says slowly. “Did you…all need to come for that?”

“My heartbeat is all weird,” pipes up a boy from the back. “I need you to look at that.”

“And I need a band-aid!”

“I broke a nail.”

Their voices start clambering over each other, rapidly getting louder. Will holds up a hand, silencing them.

“Okay, okay, I hear you. If you’re fine to walk, head on over to a cot, I’ll be with you in a minute. Julia, can you help Rosamie —”

“Can’t,” blurts Julia quickly. She holds up her arm after a beat if hesitation. “Totally pulled a muscle. You’ll have to carry her.”

Will furrows his brow. It’s Mitchell all over again.

“Okay, I guess.”

Unwilling to have a group of campers loitering by the doorway any longer, Will gets it over with, scooping up Rosamie with a hand under her knees and behind her back and carrying her to the nearest cot. Will knows that everyone experiences pain differently, but she seems awfully giggly for someone whose leg is apparently sprained.

A cacophony of giggles erupt as he sets her down.

“Gods, Will, do you work out?”

Will flushes. “I do the same training as everyone else, I guess.”

“Cool.”

Will looks at them strangely. How is that cool? He glanced back at his friends, eyebrows raised, but they’re hunched over the station, badly biting back laughter.

“Maybe everyone’s got the flu, or something?” he mutters to himself, even though he knows that’s not true.

He makes quick work of healing the group of campers. Most of them are fine — he couldn’t even find a sprain on Rosamie, but wrapped her knee anyway in case there was more pain. They left as quickly as they came, giggling to each other and running down the porch.

Without even a minute between, another group of campers barged in, just as giggly as the first.

The rest of his shift is chaotic. People practically pour into the infirmary, all with minor, barely there injuries — and all of them demand Will’s help.

Will is no stranger to busy days, but this is nothing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t get it,” Will remarks to his sister in a rare minute of calm, totally bewildered. “It’s like everyone’s suddenly got glass bones.”

Kayla blinks at him. He stares back at her, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” she drawls, after a minute. She looks him up and down. “What a deeply confounding mystery this is.”

Twelve campers rush in before he can ask her what she’s talking about.

By the time Will manages to escape, it’s an hour past the end of his shift, and he’s crawling out the window in the back office of the Big House to avoid the crowd of people at the front door.

“Solace? What are you doing?”

Will yelps, losing his delicate balance and falling face first into the flowerbed. Low, raspy laughter curls around the air, and Will goes bright red.

“Just let me pass away,” he mutters, curling around a crushed daisy.

Nico snorts. “You are such a drama queen. Here.”

After another quick second of wallowing, Will takes his offered hand, letting him pull him to his feet. His shorts are smeared in dirt and there are flowers in his hair. Frantically, and uselessly, he tries to brush himself off.

“…Damn,” says Nico slowly. When Will chances a peek, he finds his friend looking him over, slowly dragging his eyes from head to toe. If at all possible, he goes even redder. “So it is true. You are walking around half-naked today.” Nico grins, wide and wolfish and teasing, and Will genuinely has to grab the wall behind him to keep upright. “No wonder the rest of camp has been so empty.”

“Is that what it is?” Will cries. “The infirmary has been — packed! All day! And no one has been hurt! They’ve been — they came for —”

“I think they came to watch the show, Solace.”

Will lets out an agonised wail. Alongside the flush so bright it puts his father’s cows to shame, he feels himself start to glow, like an flaming beacon of idiot.

“They’ve been demanding I carry them around places!” He looks at Nico, aghast. “I’ve been doing it!”

For a moment, Nico tries bravely and valiantly to keep a straight face. But then Will remembers the camper who told him he lost feeling in his hands and asked Will to hold his biceps to try and get them back, and his face must absolutely crumple in mortification, because Nico loses it.

“Zeus, Hera, and Hades,” he gasps, doubled over. “Oh my gods, Will, your face, you —” He cracks up again. Genuine tears pour down his face. Sometimes he manages to calm himself down, but then all he has to do is look at Will’s horrified grimace and he breaks down again, until he is literally writhing on the ground, holding his stomach.

“Oh — oh gods, I’m gonna — I think I’m gonna throw up —”

“I hope you choke on it,” Will says hotly. “I won’t help you. I will let you die. You’re a horrible friend.”

Nico shrieks again. Will has never seen him laugh this hard, ever, which is wildly unfair because he’s been practicing jokes with Piper in an attempt to see him smile more often, and this is what finally gets him?

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, Solace,” Nico sighs, finally starting to calm down for real. The smile on his face doesn’t go anywhere. “Help me up.”

Will pouts. “Whatever.” He should leave Nico there to rot, but he reluctantly clasps their palms together and yanks him upright. He goes to pull away, but Nico squeezes his wrist, holding fast.

Will stares at him with wide eyes. Slowly, his wide smile thins into a crooked, downright dangerous smirk.

Will goes weak at the knees.

“I know you’re going to go get a bunch of new shirts immediately,” he murmurs, and honestly, who gave him the right to a voice like that? Huh? Who did Will piss off? What does he need to do to make amends? “But, well.” He glances down, then back up, smirk widening. “If you wanted to wear that shirt when you’re ogling at me during training, I wouldn’t mind. Might even the playing field.”

And then, because the gods actually hate him, Nico winks. He lets go of Will’s wrist and saunters off without another word, idly swinging his sword as he whistles.

Will crawls back into the flower bed, face plants in the dirt, and yells for ten whole minutes.

[rayssion]

Leo: can you ever see us as more than friends?!

Jason: of course, I'm glad you asked.

Leo: that's awesome. I-I really lo—

Jason: I can totally see us as cats.

Leo:

Jason: hang on, let me get the picture I drew.