#but Nemesis' thing is whips soo

[m4gp13]

the other day we were discussing on the server about demigods using more magic transforming weapons like riptide and demigods using weapons associated with their parents and I would like to submit for the class Ethan using a whip that's disguised as one of those rulers that can fold in half, because Nemesis is associated with whips and measuring rods

[velvetchen]

Dynamic | pt. i

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Scenario: Superhero AU Pairing: Chen/Reader Word Count: 1830 Rating: T (warning for language)

Summary: You’re the leading superhero of the city, and you’ve fought Dynamo for years. It’s the way it should be - good vs. evil, hero vs. villain. But what happens when a bigger evil threatens everything?

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The warehouse is dark. Really dark.

Your steps echo on the damp concrete ground, your bright fuschia suit dull and grey in the small light that streams through the holes in the roofing. You would use your powers to move around, maybe find a good hiding spot – but damn, it was getting even darker. You can barely see a thing. From memory you know there should be a mezzanine lining the back wall and a couple of storage units right about –

“Fuck!” you hiss as you crash into something heavy and metal. There was the storage unit, so the mezzanine stairs should be to your left. Maybe you can hide up there to get a good look at the playing field. If only it weren’t so goddamned dark. Your arch nemesis really had great taste.

A buzzing crack lights the air behind you in bright fluorescence. Too late. You whirl around on your heel, raising your Protogun. As if it would help – all the sonic pulses would dissipate too quickly at this range.

A figure floats right above the giant doorway you’d entered through, illuminated eerily by the lightning crackling over his hands and over his arms. He wears a matte black helmet that lets you see none of his face. You know who it is, though.

“Have you been there the whole time, Dynamo?” you growl, your voice echoing back at you. You don’t lower your gun. Your posture stiffens, muscles tensing, ready to move. In the light coming off him you scout out a few landings you could spring to if you needed, and a large hulking object that looked sturdy enough to guard from any fire.

He doesn’t say anything, just chuckles, and suddenly he’s whizzing towards you, still floating. Damn those Hoverboots. You’ve been wanting those for ages, but they’re just too expensive. Besides, you’re hard enough to catch on your own.

Dynamo stops about twenty feet away, the electricity still rippling over his body. “I could have struck you anytime, and you never would have seen it coming.” He throws his head back and laughs again.

This irks you more than you want to admit. “Well, why didn’t you!”

“You did invite me to a fair duel. As far as I know, striking you unawares is cheating.”

You scowl.

“See? I’m not so evil, after all.” You know behind that mask he’s grinning, even though you’ve never seen his face.

You shift your weight from foot to foot, feeling foolish. “Let’s just start.”

“Yes, m’lady.” And then, in a flash, his lightning bolts are shooting out towards you in a wide arc. Your eyes go wide and you move just as quickly, blinking out of view and reappearing fifteen feet in the air, just above the attack. You know if you teleport closer it’ll just be easier for him to strike. You need to play smarter.

Thing is, he usually outwits you.

As you fall back to the ground, you fire a pulse from your gun. It’s a lucky shot. Hit him in the leg. Even at this distance, the pulses are still too weak to do any real damage. You’d increase the power setting, but this is a duel, not an actual battle. Anything lethal is forbidden - and that includes your primary weapon, the Blade. 

Dynamo barely flinches at the shot. He responds with two bolts of lightning instead, crackling along the ground like whips, moving along the damp floor right toward you. You blink out and reappear right behind him, pushing the gun straight into the small of his back. Before you can pull the trigger, you feel the electricity moving through the gun and into your hand. The muscle spasms and you’re forced to let go. You blink, moving in the air and vaulting up onto the mezzanine.

There’s your gun, though. On the ground. Right next to him. You spit out a few choice words.

His laugh carries up to you. “Dynamo, one. Rush, zero. Try again?” He tosses your gun up into the air and you catch it. It’s powered off, probably fried by his lightning. You swear again and smack it with your palm, hard. Nothing.

“I’m going to get you-”

“Not if I get you first!” He’s laughing. This is fun for him �� he isn’t taking it seriously. He isn’t taking you seriously. You grit your teeth. You won’t let him win again.

He gathers his lightning up in his hands again, a dense ball of crackling electricity that you recognize as one of his “signature moves.”

You smile. Maybe it’s time to try out a signature move of your own.

Just as the lightning leaves his hand, you drop into a crouch. Then you blink. You’re at his feet. He sees you, but it’s too late. You sweep your leg out in a wide circle, knocking him onto his back. His helmet hits the ground with a thunk. Then you’re on top of him, ignoring the little shocks of electricity where the fabric of your suit touches his. He can kill you anytime. Pump a lethal amount of electricity into your body and stop your heart.

But this is a duel. You smile, your hands around his throat tightening and your knees on either side, pinning him down. “If I had my Blade, you would be dead.”

“If you had your Blade, this wouldn’t be a fair duel.” He sounds annoyed, like he can’t believe you actually cornered him. The score is evened.

Your smile grows sickly sweet. “Exactly.” You climb off him and extend your hand to help him up. “I hope you pay me back for the Protogun you ruined. Those are expensive.”

Dynamo takes your hand. A strong shock runs through it, more powerful than the last one. “Fucking ow! You asshole!” You drop his hand and clutch yours. He laughs hard, slapping the ground.

“There,” he breathes in between bursts of laughter. “Payment.”

“Screw you, Dynamo, what the hell?” The shock’s gone now, but your hand still throbs.

He gets to his feet and hovers so that you have to crane your neck back almost painfully. “That’s what you get for knocking me on my back with no warning.”

“It was a fight! What did you expect me to do, hug you?”

“I wouldn’t complain if you did.” You could imagine that devilish grin again.

“I know you can’t see behind my mask, but I hope you know I’m rolling my eyes really hard right now.”

“Thanks for telling me.” He starts to move backwards. You can still hear the smile in his voice.

“Thanks for letting me know I entertain you so much!”

“Thanks for almost shooting me point-blank!”

“Again, it was a fucking fight!” You have to yell to reach him at the far end of the warehouse. “Fuck off, Dynamo!”

You hear him laugh as he flies up and out of an open window. So that’s how he got in. Sighing, you just walk over to your dead Protogun and pick it back up. Hopefully your nerdy roommates will know how to rewire it.  

You close your eyes and think of the little abandoned shed not too far from here, where you stashed your clothes and other weapons. Teleporting long distances usually takes a lot of energy, so you try not to jump into places with a lot of people. Like your house, for example. Neither of your roommates actually know you're, well, a superhero. They just think you're unusually obsessed with cosplaying Rush, which isn’t out of the ordinary. Rush is pretty popular, if you say so yourself.

You open your eyes, and you're in the shed. Your pink backpack is right where you left it, covered by an old cardboard box. You pull it out and rummage for your clothes, quickly stripping out of your supersuit and pulling on the old jeans and t-shirt. Then, your glasses. You pull your hair out of its high ponytail and let it hang down around your face. Like this - quiet, mousy Y/N - nobody could ever confuse you for Rush, the badass, foulmouthed superhero that’s been saving the city for years.

Saving it from none other than Dynamo, of course.

There are a couple of other villains here and there, but Dynamo is a supervillain. He usually pulls off the big stuff, like bank heists and plane hijackings and whatnot. But you've been fighting each other for so long that you felt almost like...friends.

Friends that tried to kill each other, anyway.

You pack everything up and sling the backpack on your back. Then you step out of the shed and onto a quiet street in the suburbs.

You know this area well enough, you guess. You’re a volunteer teacher at the district elementary school, and quite a few of your students live in this neighborhood. That's how you found this shed, tucked away near a patch of forest, and set up base.

Hiking your pack higher on your shoulders, you start down the pavement, pulling your phone out of your pocket as you walk.

3 new messages.

One was a marketing message. You deleted it. The other two were from your roommate, Kyungsoo.

Soo: Hey Y/N Soo: I'll be out this weekend, I'm visiting some friends. Just letting you know

You quickly tap out a reply.

Y/N: No problem Soo, thanks for the heads-up!

The phone drops from your hands as you collide with something solid for the second time today. You watch in horror as a crack slashes across the screen.

 "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, are you all right?"

You look up into the eyes of a guy, maybe a few years older than you. He’s flushed and slightly sweaty, like he's been running.

"No, no, it's my fault, I should know better than to text while walking-" You laugh nervously as he bends over to pick up the phone for you. When he notices the crack he frowns, almost pouting. “I’m sorry, I can get that fixed for you.”

“It’s totally okay,” you say, smiling again. “No worries at all. Sorry for crashing into you?”

He grins, the corners of his mouth turning up and his eyes crinkling into half-moons. “It’s good. I wasn’t looking where I was going either.” His smile turns sheepish. “Hey, do you live around here? I don’t recognize you.”

“No, um, I’m just passing through,” you say, laughing nervously again.

“Oh. Nice meeting you. I’m Jongdae,” he says, holding his hand out. You grasp it uncertainly and shake, once, your skin tingling oddly where it touches his. Damn nerves. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“See you around, Y/N,” he says, then shoves his hands in his pockets and starts off, whistling a light tune.

You look at your hand. It’s still tingling. Then you look back at him as he walks away. He was handsome, sure, but handsome enough to give you butterflies all over? You shake your head and head off, too.