#ive been so considering writing a puffychu and a rainduo scene from this au ngl. i think it would be fun

[faebriel]

Super Niki au my absolute beloved.. the more information I get the more crazy I get

(hi sorry this sat in the inbox for like two months anon for some reason i was hoping something more substantial would appear out of thin air. it didn't btw.) regardless of that! fuck yeah anon i'm with you on that

i think a superhero niki story would have to have a real focus on the mundane. like the nitty gritty details of "how do you conceal your identity from people in your superhero costume?" "how do you fit patrols into your week? you can't possibly do them every day." all that! again i think this comes back to me being really attached to the 'everyman' side of c!niki it makes me want to imbue that feeling into everything i write with her. in this au i think she does work at a bakery (good for her) but when the shit starts to hit the fan she disengages from her job, stops taking on the extra duties she usually does at work, stops caring, eventually stops showing up. etc. this is probably related to how she ends up crashing with fundy and hbomb after The Puffychu Divorce (superniki edition)

here are a few other miscellaneous thoughts i've been having:

i've been having more of a think about emerald duo in this au, and i think i know how i picture them being. so phil is wilbur's dad, techno is phil's friend, techno and wilbur define their relationship in vastly different ways, etc etc the standard. oh but they're both supervillains. not for any particular reason they kind of liked mucking around causing mayhem first and then came up with an ideology later. anyway phil's retired and techno Would Like to be retired but he's still looped into the job due to Shenanigans (blood god related mb?). wilbur is fully aware of this and goes to him to be like 🥺 help i need ideas when he decides to go supervillain mode

oh! and wilbur's alter ego name is chekhov ^-^

and so the syndicate in this au is......................... a book club. yes for real

okay look i was thinking about what to do with the syndicate and i didn't really want to have them end up as a Bad Ass Villain Posse because i think niki needs to retire or at least be a superperson part time after everything that happens. so instead, she ends up meeting phil and techno and they help her ease into super semi-retirement ^-^ and ofc phil and techno appreciate having another friend who Gets It around. they are literally just like a book club and a mild support group in this au in a very silly way and i like it

i've spoken a bit about fundy and hbomb in this au... yeah niki lives with them after breaking up with puffy. not 100% sure where jack fits in. maybe he's another low ish level vigilante running around and tries to ally with niki? i can't imagine any allegiances she makes in that mental state (without the history she and jack had as l'manbergians in canon) would last very long. maybe she sees a bit of herself in him. they both call each other out for being emotionally immature idiots and then go and do the exact same thing themself. hypocrites

oh and i think i've mentioned niki making her own costume before!! i imagine as a fire based superhero she buys PPE (like from a tradie joint) and modifies it to be 1. functional and 2. fashionable. this does in fact mean that hi-vis yellow + orange are her colours in this au....

and below the cut is a treat: a snippet i wrote of a scene where after a big fight, wilbur finds himself patching up his wounds in the same safety stash as this city's very own friendly neighbourhood superhero (who wants to beat his ass)......

“Why do you hate me?”

The stubborn rasp in his voice surprises even him. As for the woman on the other side of the room, her shoulders draw tight - like a wild animal arching its back, a show of anger. The question, then – should Wilbur interpret such a motion as defensiveness, or as a threat? “What makes you say that?” she asks. Her voice runs high with the question – a quiet sound, like a flute's soft alto, though it rasps slightly through the sound of a voice changer. Idly, Wilbur wonders whether it is worth asking where she got it. Or how she fashioned it, perhaps. God knows he needs one. Chekhov might manage perfectly fine in the midst of faceless reporters and supervillains – the proper kind – who haven't seen the light of city streets in years, but if Wilbur were to cross paths with someone he knew as himself (god forbid, someone like Tommy) his voice would give him away quick as anything.  (His heart aches, briefly, when he thinks of his brother.) Part of him tries to unpick what her voice would sound like without it. It’s difficult not to fixate on these small things – perhaps because the bigger things provide him with so little in comparison. Her voice is quiet, a little difficult to pick the sounds apart around the staticky rumble of the voice changer, but far from timid. There’s a stubborn timbre to it. (Something in it is familiar. But that thought is patently ridiculous, and Wilbur is impatient, and so it is dismissed.)

[scene continues]

"Am I," Wilbur pauses, wets his lips – it almost feels as if the fire is still flickering beneath his skin, energising and scorching all at once. "Am I that horrible? Is there something – do you see something so inherently terrible in me that you just have to strike it down? Is that it?" Her powder-keg silence sparks, ignites, her scowl a torn-open slash even beneath the planes of her mask, embroiled in sudden fury. "Don't flatter yourself - "  "Ah, and there it is!" To her credit, she doesn't stagger back as he lights up – if anything, her affect is unimpressed. "Show us the blaze, firebug! What – what drives you? What lights your fuse?" "Do you even know what you are?" she retorts. Oh, she's caught on the hook, now. "You know what you are?" What is Wilbur expecting? Proud, arrogant perhaps – delusional wouldn't be anything new, or any of the crueler words from that stock. Wouldn't be the first time he'd been called some variety of son of a bitch bastard, either. Who is he, to this spectre of flame? He's asking honestly, though he doubts she believes in his integrity. "You're a liar," she continues, words stubborn and fierce and almost unwieldy. "You – you are so selfish, and so cruel – you take, and you take and you take and you don't think for a second of the people you're taking from. You don't think anything of them. You're a liar," and when she repeats these words, they sound like smoke – "and you know what? I hate liars. I hate them." The words sink into him like stones. How does she know? he asks himself. How does she know? He doesn't ask her that. Knowing his patience, he'd be lucky for an answer, anyway - instead he just suggests, "you speak like you're familiar on the subject, then?" If it's even possible, her scowl drives itself deeper into her face - like tyre tracks driven into mud, an ugly slash of drawn brows and what he can only assume is teeth bared behind that voice changer of hers. She looks at him like he isn't worth a single thing on this earth. "Yeah, well," she spits. "I've had my fair share, with bastards like you."

#thank u nonnie!! #sorry bout the wait you know how it is around these parts #ive been so considering writing a puffychu and a rainduo scene from this au ngl. i think it would be fun #aunonnies #superniki