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Superpower!AU with Hyungwon

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Group: Monsta X

Member: Chae Hyungwon

Genre: fluff, romance, small [very minimal] angst

TW: car accident - don’t worry, no one died

Type: Bulletpoint AU

Word Count: approx. 2.8k

→ Inspired by the AU Prompt: “I know you can read minds and I really like you so I’m constantly filtering my thoughts—stop making fun of how I think of fighting giraffes, it’s my go-to when I think about you shirtless”

so Hyungwon has the power of telepathy

how he got it was rather odd

he wasn’t necessarily born with it—it kind of came to him

despite what people might think, it wasn’t radioactivity

it was actually due to an accident

when he was young, there was a minor encounter

basically, there was a car and semi-truck incident

next thing he knew, his parents were in critical condition and he was being rolled into the ER for surgery

when he woke up, he was in his hospital bed and the ventilator was hooked up to him

he heard the voices of the nurses and the doctors, but their mouths weren’t moving

originally he brushed it off since he hasn’t fully recovered and his vision kept going in and out

but once he did recover… he could still hear them

Estiferous;

es.tif.er.ous /adjective/ Producing (much) heat. Pairing: Chanyeol x f.reader Rating: angst Words: 3k I spent the entire day in a seething rage about certain events that happened yesterday and so, this was born. In part because the lovely @saebyeog-i just adores him with her entire being and we’ve not stopped talking about everything wrong with the entire situation and how much he deserves to be LOVED.

“Good morning on this fine twenty-ninth of October! It’s a chilly one out there ladies and gentleman. Those gray skies are here to stay today, and it looks like the rain will be steady through most of the evening,” says your partner from his place at the left side of the table. He glances sidelong at you as he turns back to his notes, “Ah, Y/N you’re looking so happy about that!” You blink once, caught in your daydream and stumbling for a response. Looking at the cameras positioned in your direction, you quickly recover, “Even with the chill and the rain I just love this season.” The man beside you gives a flamboyant chuckle that turns your gut, “What do you love about it?” “The colors,” you reply with honesty directed toward your viewers, “They’re like fire. The last reminder of the Summer warmth.” Your co-anchor touches at his in-ear briefly, “Oh, speaking of fire, take a look at this!” He spins his chair to face the large monitor that serves as the background of the studio, “Breaking news of a rogue Evolved out on the streets!” The way he says the words fill you with horror while you force your body to turn. On the screen, a shaky, grainy video- clearly from a cellphone some yards away- shows a disaster scene. Dusty clouds and smoke drift in thick and thin wafts across the screen, and the back of a tall and gangly man comes into view. Immediately your body stiffens as you watch his frame against the backdrop of a burning building. There is no air in your lungs, turned to stone as you absorb the video progression. Whoever filmed this is clearly terrified, by their deep breaths and coughing, high on adrenaline. There’s a barricade of fallen metal. You hear the man taking the video shout in warning, whispering an ‘oh my god’ as a dozen large steel pipes fall on top of the man he’s filming. Some grunting and distressing sounds pass the few seconds it takes for the next moment to come. Through the smoke and dust renewed, something glows faintly at first beneath the pile of metal. Then, between the haze, the video catches a form rising from them, accompanied by the sounds of heavy metal banging against the ground. One glows to a white-hot redness before bending and falling from what appears to be the Evolved’s hand. ‘Holy shit, what kind of monster is he.’ Says the owner of the recording in a choked whisper, clearly filled with absolute terror. You’re still frozen to your chair with your heart thudding loudly in your chest as you watch the rogue man change. Gently at first as if he appears to be lit on fire slowly, until everyone watching realizes he is engulfed in flames of his own making. Oddly, he checks over both shoulders before he takes off into the burning wreckage of the building. The moment the video ends, your co-host whirls back toward the cameras with too much enthusiasm, “Amazing, aren’t they, folks? What a world it has become!” He pauses, looking over some new papers that had been passed to both of you. Looking down at your own, you read the words as they’re said by your partner, “Wow! Looks like this video was taken by someone who had just escaped that building with their life! Then this Evolved showed up right before the fire department.” It makes you jump as another video pops up on the screen behind you, of two children animatedly talking, albeit a bit hoarse. ‘It was amazing, like PSSSKKKHHHHHHAAAAA!’ says the smaller one, throwing his smoke-stained hands up into the air and then coughing. The larger child nods along enthusiastically, ‘Yeah, yeah! This guy came and grabbed the metal stuff in the way and, and-‘ he tries to find the words but needs to stop for a drink of water from an woman that coddles them both on a hospital cot. ‘-and he melted it all away like this. Hhhhnnngggg!-‘ he says, clenching both of his tiny fists and squeezing his face tight to make a bending motion. The smaller one interjects by jumping off of the cot, ‘and then he helped us outside.’ He looks sad for a moment before he shrugs and adds, ‘But I think he was shy ‘cause he wouldn’t come outside with us.’ ‘Go find the firetruck!’ hollers the older boy in a mocking tone. ‘But what do we say to the man, boys?’ the person filming asks, clearly the father. ‘Thank you for saving us!’ the boys chime together with grins too big for their cheeks. You smile to yourself, thinking of the kindness shows to these two children in such a scary situation. It doesn’t last, as hell breaks loose with the very same video of the Evolved across several social media sites. Tweets and Instagram shares and YouTube reaction videos. A few that are impressed to see such power from an Evolved, and a rogue one no less. Although much more common in today’s world than generations past and protected under their agencies, they are still the minority. Most of the buzz around the now viral video is alarming. Hateful spews of threats and accusations that this rogue started the fire himself. Calling him Hellspawn, or the devil himself. Threats and ugly words thrown around out of fear and jealousy. A few demanding the Manifestation Rehabilitation Center arrest him and lock him up so he isn’t a danger to society. “You heard it here first, Channel sixty-one news station. We’ll be right back,” says your co-anchor. He stands from his chair and adjusts his tie, stretching his back, “What an awful creature,” he comments dryly under his breath. It’s enough for you to catch. “What did you just say?” you ask him from your seat, back straight as a spring board. He looks at you blankly, and you decide in that moment that you hate his over-gelled slicked back hair and his tie is the ugliest shade of puke green you’ve ever seen. “Come on now, you know that thing probably started that fire. It’s lucky everyone made it out alive, but what about the damage?” It takes you a moment to consider his words and if he is really standing here in front of you or just a dirty apparition, “Excuse me?” He has the audacity to sneer, “What?” “That ‘creature’ you just called him, is a person! He didn’t ask for that manifestation!” you scream at him. The director and camera coordinators all jump, spilling coffee and turning back toward you at the news table. Even your co-host seems to fumble for words at your outburst, “Are you really so small minded? You’ll jump to that conclusion without all of the information?” He raises his hand at you to speak, “It’s probably true though. Looks better for the news at least. You saw how quickly it we-“ “Stop talking! This is unbelievable! You want to know who the real monsters of this world are?” your anger is rising like acid up the column of your throat, “You are! People who only care about their fucking money or their fucking story or their five fucking seconds of fame!” You spit more words at him before he can make a rebuttal, “You don’t give a shit about the people your stories might hurt? Are you so content with yourself that you don’t have an ounce of shame for the words you say about others? Are you serious right now? Have a bit more compassion for humanity!” He laughs. The man within striking distance of your palm actually laughs. It is as the phrase ‘I don’t care.’ Leaves his lips that your palm meets his cheek. It stings harshly, but your refuse to let it show. And then you walk out, flinging your fistful of notes in the air to scatter about the news studio as your heels carry you sharply across the floor and out the door with your coat and purse. ______________________________ “Unnie, I’m so sorry.” You mumble, wiping at your tears and sniffling to keep them at bay as you walk. On the other end of the line, a woman coos at you, “Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” You feel terrible. Channel sixty one was the only news station that would even look at your resume straight out of college, and only on Yoora’s word that you were perfect for the junior anchor position that got you in the door. A year later and you were promoted to anchor, gleefully dropping the ‘junior’ title from your work. Thankful to her as always, you feel even worse as you admit that you walked out. “I just quit,” you say in one breath, “Unnie they were talking about Chanyeol.” The other end of the line goes quiet for three seconds, “Where is he?” You sigh, tilting your head to hold your phone between it and your shoulder so you can unlock your car while the other holds your umbrella. “Not sure, but I have a feeling I know. I’ll text you when I find him. I’m just… I’m really sorry after all of the hard work you did for me.” She hums, “Seriously don’t worry about that. We’ll figure it out later. For now, just make sure he’s okay, please.” “On it,” you whisper, ending the call as you situate yourself in your car. With both hands on the wheel, you take off in the direction he’s most likely to be. _________________________________ Nearing late afternoon, you’ve decided there’s only one place left to find him. His G65 is tucked nicely under the foliage of a large tree. It’s the only one left in the parking lot when you pass by the only other car on their way out of the park. You don’t bother checking your phone. He’s not answering anyone’s messages or calls and he’s turned off his location. Luckily, you had your gym bag in your car, intent on having gone today after work. Running shoes and a hoodie are much better for this kind of weather as you hunt for the man you love. It doesn’t take long to find him, since the park is scarce otherwise and he never carries an umbrella. He only ever needs to for the sake of his attire. Pulling open your messages, you text Yoora that he’s safe. You save her the detailed description of your lover; sitting on a bench with his ear pods in and the length of his legs spread out into the walkway, comfortable in his slouched position. He’s wearing his scuffed-up converse, favorite jeans and a large gray hoodie. One hand, large even from a distance, is extended in front of him. You know, even from this distance, he is watching every droplet evaporate from his skin. It is obvious in the Summertime, in the way his body steams as if it were asphalt when he doesn’t care to regulate his external temperature. You smile when he lets the hand drop to his lap and his head lulls back against the bench. He exhales into the chill, a gently puff of humid white from his volcanic chest into the late October breeze. It pulls a quiet laugh from you. His head rolls in your direction, and he is not surprised to see you standing ten yards away. His expression doesn’t change, but you know it isn’t personal. His cheeks, usually high and glowing, have deflated to sag near the down turned corners of his lips. Although he still exudes warmth, it makes your heart feel chilled. As you approach, traces of his tears become evident, pink around his round eyes- staring up at you from his resting spot. “You okay?” you ask, moving your umbrella away from yourself to shield him, “Your clothes are getting soaked.” A dissatisfied hum is your only reply at first, until he sits up and grabs your free hand to tug you closer. In his hold, you let him guide you to stand in front of him so he can comfortably wrap his arms around your hips. Leaning his head into your stomach, Chanyeol sighs. “You know you saved someone, Chanyeol.” You speak the words into the breeze with such conviction, letting your free hand raise to pet his hair. Even without the sun, you are happy to notice you can still see the auburn riding the waves of his chestnut curls. “It doesn’t matter. So many more hate me for starting a fire,” he mumbles into the thickness of your hoodie. Dropping your umbrella, you sink into a squatting position between his knees and revel in the warmth of his skin against your palms where they touch his cheeks, “But you didn’t start that fire.” He groans, voice cracking with stress, “Everyone thinks I did. It’s all that seems to matter. They are making jokes about it, too.” “I don’t think you did.” For the first time, he meets your eyes. Hesitantly, “I know.” He pulls you back up against him, hugging you into his larger frame as if you were his favorite stuffed animal, but commits nothing to the conversation otherwise. “What if you signed with an agency?” you wonder aloud. Sure, conversations had come and gone about it before, when they first began gaining popularity and legitimacy, but Chanyeol had always shrugged it off for the sake of keeping his manifestation private and doing what he wanted. He hadn’t thought that far about it, thinking there would never be a need to expose himself. “Might have to now. Still don’t want to,” he admits. “Why did you risk yourself then?” He lifts his chin and tilts his lips onto yours briefly, “The kids. They wouldn’t have made it.” The words are sobering to you, as they probably were to him. “You did that for them?” He takes a deep breath through his nose. It’s clear he is exhausted, “Would you have?” “Without a second thought.” You wrap his head in your arms again, leaning down to kiss at the crown of his head and inhaling his scent. Smoky and warm, tinged with the fresh rain. “That’s why I think you should find an agency.” Chanyeol hums, squeezing you tighter, “Later. For now, let’s go home and forget about the world for a while.” He kisses you again, “Thank you for finding me.” “I will always come to find you. I just want you to be safe and happy and loved,” you remind him gently, stealing a kiss on your own from his perpetually pouted lips. He takes your hand and stands, giving you the tiniest smile- just an uptick at the corner of his lips- at the happy sound you make when he squeezes your hand in his. It is unusually warm, like always. He takes the umbrella from your other hand, looking every bit like a normal couple trying to shield themselves from the chilled rain under one small piece of fabric. Chanyeol stops a few feet from the gate you came through, and his hand grows hotter in your hold. Enough that he lets you go and subtly moves you one step behind him, “Can I help you?” Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed a man leaning against the grill of Chanyeol’s Mercedes. He’s wearing a black overcoat, bucket hat, and dark sunglasses. Even without the weather, he is immediately suspicious. The man smiles, lifting himself from the car and uncrossing his arms. He looks down and back up, lips twisted in a smirk. Not quite cocky, but almost. Chanyeol must be able to feel something off because he reacts with one small puff of flame from his breath. You don’t miss the way he spreads his fingers wide with the hand he keeps in front of you, alerted by the way his fingertips become daker pink and then red as if sunburnt. The man approaches gracefully, and something feels a little cold. You watch, transfixed and a little afraid of the way the rain doesn’t quite seem to touch him. “Easy there, let me make this a little more comfortable,” he says mysteriously with a quick look around. You immediately notice the way the sound of rain on your umbrella has stopped. Chanyeol noticed too, and hesitantly moves the umbrella. Above your heads, the rain is not suspended. Upon closer inspection, you can see it is moving around you three instead. “See? Now she won’t get wet, right?” says the man, grinning. He removes his sunglasses and lifts his head to meet Chanyeol’s eyes. “Can I help you?” Chanyeol asks again, a little less polite than before. The man, clearly an Evolved, clears his throat and holds a card out to your boyfriend, “My name is Junmyeon. CEO of JM Enterprise, an agency for Evolved.” Your lover stills, relaxing from his threatening posture. You peek around him, curious, “Wow.” Junmyeon smiles at you, “I’m particularly selective in recruiting myself. I’m looking for a partner whose manifestation is complementary of my own. Natural element types if you will.” “Are there more?” Chanyeol asks quickly, his curiosity getting the better of him. Junmyeon smirks again, a bit lopsided. “A few. Currently, five including myself. I’d like you to make it six.” “I’ll think about it,” Chanyeol agrees a bit reluctantly, clearly finished with the conversation. He takes your hand once more and moves past the CEO toward the cars. “Oh, and miss Y/N?” calls Junmyeon. Both of your heads whip back around to face him. He holds his sunglasses with both hands, sliding them back over his eyes, “We could also use someone of your journalist talent, since you’re looking for employment now that you quit.” You squeak, trying to ignore Chanyeol’s wild eyes boring into the side of your head, “You quit your job?!”

#chanyeol x reader #superpower!au #chanyeol drabble #chanyeol fanfiction #exo fanfiction #chanyeol angst #in true fashion as of late... JUNMYEON WOULD NEVER #i had to because it makes me feel better #and chanyeol is a whole ass softie but protective babie #AN: this is totally unedited sorry not sorry

A scene from Not all Heroes Wear Capes for and by @gilby-the-geek-girl

So, I bought a drawing tablet...

I tend to sketch more than drawn and I’m not accustomed to this software or the digital method, or this style for that matter. However, I feel that my first attempt was pretty successful. I don’t... entirely hate it.

Will definitely be doing some eye practice though :/

#sanders sides #fanart #ts fanart #giant Virgil #giant!virgil #tiny!roman #tiny roman #not all heroes wear capes #my art #superpower au #superpower!au

Meanwhile, in The Ward

Jacobi: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Peet?

Dr. Peet: No.

Dr. Sherman: I do.

Jacobi: I know, Doc

Dr. Sherman: I'm sad

Jacobi: I know, Doc.

#Dear Evan Hansen #DEH OCs #fanfiction #superpower!AU #trying through the trauma

Superpower au and poly queen!!

First of all, I decided on powers for them all:

Freddie’s power is to create illusions, Brian can control plants, Roger has super speed and John is able to create force fields.

There are two ways I can see/would want to see this AU:

-They all have super powers and are either already fighting crime (I can see Roger do that in a Daredevil/Fraction!Hawkeye kind of way), are not hiding their powers but aren’t actively trying to save the world with their powers (Both Brian and Freddie could work for that) or are trying to avoid using their powers in public (John). They come together to save the world and then form a superhero team and eventually fall in love, trying to balance their work, relationship and their public image.

-One or two have super powers (I personally think Roger and John would work well) and try to keep their powers secret from their friends to keep them safe while still fighting crime. The first to find out about the powers would be John and Roger respectively (before any relationships happen) and they help each other hiding their powers by pretending to date which eventually turns into real dating. It causes Brian and Freddie to get jealous and realize their feelings for them and after they were miserable together for a while, they decide to seduce the other couple. They are successful (of course) and eventually do find out what their boyfriends are getting up to on their free time which, at first, doesn’t go over well.

#poly!queen #superpower!AU

“Did you steel my shirt again”

“Did you steel my shirt again?”

Hector looked up as Ernesto slammed a laundry basket onto the kitchen table in front of him.

“Nooo, I was careful this time!” Hector said, eye wide.

Ernesto glared, pulling what looked like a perfectly folded metal shirt from the laundry basket and shoving it under Hector’s nose.

“This shirt cost eight hundred pesos, Hector.” Ernesto hissed, letting it fall to the tabletop with a clang. “That is the third shirt you’ve turned to steel this month because you’re busy daydreaming about getting with your boss. I don’t care if your superpower is rare, what it really is is obnoxious and if you don’t get your head straight we are going to have serious issues, got that?”

“Lo siento, Ernesto,” Hector said, tucking his now copper pencil under the table before Ernesto could see it. He really was getting absentminded. “I promise next time I do the laundry I’ll focus harder, I’ll wear gloves.”

“You,” Ernesto said, pointing a finger in his face, “stay away from my laundry. I don’t need you turning any more of my wardrobe to scrap metal. Turn your own ratty t-shirts to iron if you want, but leave my stuff out of this.”

“I’m sorry!” Hector called as Ernesto stomped out of the room.

He sighed as he picked up the metal shirt, tipping it back and forth, making it glint in the kitchen lights.

It was too bad that he couldn’t have accidentally turned the shirt to gold, at least then Ernesto would have been able to buy a new one.

——

Forgive me anon, but I’d just answered a “steal my shirt” and was laughing too hard over the possibilities of “steel my shirt.” I hope you enjoyed this peek into the utterly ridiculous Coco!SuperPower!Teacher!AU.

#teacher!au #?#superpower!au #this folks is what happens when I write at 2am #coco #steel shirt

Elyxion Chronicles: The Beginning

Superpower!AU

Summary: The Red Moon is the only time where the door opens between the two Worlds. Nine members from Elyxion take this opportunity to visit the Human World, enthralled by the beauty of their World. Unfortunately, the Red Force has set their eyes on the prize.

A/N: This is heavily based off of the Elyxion teaser, including the order of events, so it may be slightly confusing. This is the introduction to the Elyxion Chronicles.

Kyungsoo slides the last letter into its envelope, sealing it. He sets a crimson wax stick on fire, letting it melt and drip onto the cream envelope, waiting until the wax is enough for the stamp to fit in.

He blows out the fire, setting the wax stick aside to cool down and harden as he grabs his stamp and places it precisely in the center of the still wet wax, holding it down for half a minute before removing it to reveal a perfect stamp.

Telepathy.

A/N: Beware! What you are about to read is my first ever tumblr-posted fanfic! Firstly, thank you for reading/liking/reblogging!! Your support means the most to me and it keeps me going. Sorry this isn’t the typical romance fanfic, but rather an AU where people have superpowers :0 Please do give requests! I’m open to anything :)

Pairing; Jungkook x reader

Genre: light fluff(?), Superpower!AU

Summary: Although your thoughts were in your head, you felt as if Jungkook could hear every thought. Till one day, he appeared in your dreams.

(sorry im not good at summaries)

“Ah shit, I don’t have much money left,” You thought.

You were searching every nook and cranny of your room for money, as you were going out to meet your friends after a long time of not meeting them. Of course, you would agree on going, but that also meant that you were going to miss out on Movie Night with the boys.

You pried open your bear wallet, the money left showed that it was only enough to feed you for lunch.

“This means I can’t buy clothes.. Should I just miss out? No, I should go... Ah, I shouldn’t have bought all those expensive camera equipments.. I could’ve bought them on a cheaper price somewhere else..”

You were on such dilemma for what felt new you were going to be late but you couldn’t make up your mind fast enough.

Then, the door creaked open.

Jungkook walked in.

“I know you’re going out with your friends, so here’s some money. Go treat yourself.”

He gave you the notes, but you pushed his hand away in denial.

“No no! It’s okay, that’s too much as well , and how would you know I’m short of money?” You asked.

You two just stared at each other, incapable to speak. Although staring at him is something you wouldn’t mind doing all day, you had plans already. But as you wanted to break the staring contest, he took your hand, placed the money in it, and curled your fingers.

“Coincidence? Or maybe I just know. Have fun and be safe, Y/N.”

He then exited the room.

“What… How did he…”

You were inexplicably shocked. Could you have accidentally spoke out your thoughts? The ringtone of your phone suddenly broke your chain of questions.

Shoot! I’m late! Jungkook, I will sort you out later.

After days of meeting friends and helping them give a tour around Seoul, you finally had a day all to yourself. So you decided to search more on Telepathy while you were on your bed. You were crazy curious on the theory that Jungkook might have this special power, you even had an experiment one day that you only thought of something specific, so that he will mention about it later on. It went well as planned. But, why didn’t he wanted to tell you this? You weren’t sure either.

Out of the blue, you got a notification from Instagram. You recently posted a short film you made of your friends and Seoul itself while you were being a tour guide for them. Your phone was blowing up, but this specific notification got your attention.

“Wow, why is this like Jungkook’s short film? Lol sis you aren’t original. And yours is like the trash version of his.”

20 likes on that comment, but you didn’t care initially, but it got replies, and it wasn’t all positive.

“Yeah ikr! Not being original is such a turn off. Guys, don’t bother giving views for this.”

“Yall are just jealous. Let her be. At least she’s making something useful out of her time.”

“Lmao more like she’s wasting time copying Jungkook.”

“True!! She’s just a copycat with no originality.”

Tears clouded your view. You didn’t want to read the rest anymore. You threw your phone aside and grabbed a pillow, trying to silence your screams and cries. You are the person who is very sensitive to anything negative. Yes sure you can defend yourself most of the times, but deep down you are just hurt by it.

Yeah they’re right. I’m just a copycat. I have no originality. My works are trash. I should just throw away all of them since no one cares about it, since I’m just a replica of everything. No one won’t even care if I throw them all. I’m truly untalented.

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

You opened your eyes, only to see a door in front of you labelled ‘Jungkook’.

You stood up from lying down. All around you were 7 doors, all labelled with the boys’ names.

“What’s all this?” You asked yourself, puzzled.

“For me to know, for you to find out.”

You turned around; Jungkook walking up to you, with hands behind his back. He looked like he knew what was up.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll explain when you wake up. You look so adorable when you’re asleep.”

He was now only inches apart from you. He caressed your cheek as he smiled.

You closed your eyes, only to open them again, but this time, you’re faced with a white fabric. You felt warm arms around you, and legs tangled with yours.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

A/N: Part 2 soon? :0