The Superpower of Plot Armor - The Praetorian x M! Reader

Chapter One - When Idiots Fly, But You're The Idiot...

Chapter One - When Idiots Fly, Except You're the Idiot Who Charges Into the Bastard's Mansion Instead of Flying

.

Like an idiot, you were planning to steal from The Bastard.

An actual, huge, goddamn idiot.

Like, who the hell stole from that man? Leader of like, the biggest villain organization. Been around terrorizing the population of villains probably for like... hundreds of years. You didn't know how old he was. But he was an old man. A very scary old man. Who could make people's heads explode. Literally.

So, yeah. Stealing from him was certainly a bad idea.

But... you were Y/N L/N. Sure, you'd probably be shot at by hundreds of his men, killed by his security systems, or even drown in a puddle of rainwater before you even reached his mansion... okay, where were you going with this? These were all bad things.

Well. Point was, you had a gift. A special superpower, that gave you these ungodly amounts of confidence that you definitely did not deserve whatsoever.

In a world full of superpowers, superheroes, supervillains... you were super-able to cancel those abilities.

So, even if you'd be shot at by machine guns, punched in the gut, or snapped in half like a twig, at least you wouldn't die of having your head explode. Because that was a superpower, and damn, you laughed in the face of abilities like that. They meant nothing to you.

"Are you in position?"

The static-ridden voice of one of your partners in crime echoed from the radio hooked to your belt. It was a small, cheap thing, barely even ranking the same level as a toy, but it got the job done. A walky-talky probably wouldn't have any transmissions picked up by the people on The Bastard's property.

Notice how much this plan used the word probably. That should've been a sign that it was a horrible idea, and you should've turned around as fast as possible and ran as fast as possible towards your home.

But, remember, you were young, dumb, and stupid. If you succeeded in this risk-filled heist, you'd have enough riches to last for centuries. There was no way you were turning back now.

You reached for the small walky-talky at your belt, and wrapped your fingers around the device, feeling its smooth, plastic-like surface. As if this was your last chance to run back with your tail in between your legs.

The place outside was nearly silent, minus the sounds of bugs in the nighttime and the rustle of the bushes you were hiding behind in the wind. Moonlight shone through the leaves of the trees above you, the only thing lighting your way. You didn't want to bring too much attention to yourself with say... a flashlight or something.

The mansion was in your sight, a mere couple of yards away from where you were. This was one of The Bastard's many mansions. While some of his employees were there, there was only a small chance that he was even in there. And unless you had shit luck, the plan would run fairly smoothly without him there.

"I said. Are you in position?" Asked your boss, the one who had orchestrated all of this. There was one other person on this mission with you besides him.

Sighing, you finally made your decision, and lifted the radio to your ear, pressing the button down with your thumb to say something. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here."

"Good," replied your boss. "We're almost ready. We just need Teleportia in place."

At the mention of one of your teammates, you practically scoffed, and rolled your eyes playfully, (though no one was there to see your expressions. Boo.) "Someone really needs to tell her to change her villain name. Try... uh... Random-blonde-that-can-teleport-stuff-to-her. It's shit, but it's more creative than whatever she chose."