UNIVERSE / BTS.

73: all the bad men, cop out! / vmin

ALL THE BAD
MEN, COP OUT!

WORD COUNT 5K OH DEAR MY FINGER SLIPPED
OVERVIEW two roommates with superpowers, one wannabe vigilante, one illegal fighter, and one heck of a big fucking crush.
FOR alexijoon aka lexi aka aN ANGEL????
DEDICATED TO Stan Lee, 1922-2018. thanks for giving me heroes to look up to.

∆

PARK JIMIN DID NOT, when he woke up at 7:00AM, expect to be in this situation twelve hours later. he expected to be done with classes and maybe be at home, eating some nice takeaway from that new vegan place guk had been raving about, possibly watching a drama with his roommate. but instead, here he is.

clad in what he's shoddily dubbed his "supersuit" (black women's yoga pants, a red shirt which namjoon helped him customise with a makeshift logo and a ski mask that covers his whole face), he's trying very hard to observe three men as he flies from tree to tree, sure they're shifty. they've been following these two girls through the streets for a short while — easily noticeable to jimin, who knows how sleepy this neighbourhood is — and they're definitely up to no good; the girls themselves keep glancing back worriedly at the men, all being in their thirties and the girls maybe nineteen, and whispering to each other.

jimin's always had a soft spot for girls, especially his big sister, and these girls are both in his class, so when the guys start catcalling and getting closer, even grabbing one of the girls' arms when she tries to slap him, he takes action. "hey, scumbag!" he yells, deepening his voice, floating down from the tree with a steady stream of air holding him up. "if you know what's good for you, you'll leave these two well alone."

"what the fuck is this?" the tallest man — nicknamed greaseball in jimin's head, as that seems to be the primary component of his hair — sneers, still holding the frightened girls wrist. "fuck off mate, this is a private matter."

"i don't think what you're doing should even be considered something that matters," jimin says, hands behind his back and voice criticising. the girls look at him, afraid and confused. "do i have to repeat myself?"

"oi, he said: fuck. off," the smaller, squat man — decidedly bowser in the super's mind — says to jimin, in what he thinks is a threatening manner. "fuckin' faggot. we're having a private moment with these ladies here."

the auburn girl whose hand is trapped gives jimin a pleading look, her friend kicking at the third man who grabs her. "you give me no choice," jimin tuts. "damn. really wanted to avoid this today."

in the blink of an eye, two blazing fireballs in place of jimin's hands emerge, his eyes the colour of molten lava. the men's eyes widen, but there's no time to react when jimin's foot cracks across greaseball's chin, bouncing off him with help from his air power and kicking bowser, who comes at him yelling curse words, square in the chest with both feet. the fireballs are a distraction from the young super's martial arts skills, disappearing when the third man lets the girl go and runs at him. jimin lands a sucker punch straight at his jaw, and uses his powers to strap the two grounded men to the floor with tight rings of rock summoned from the earth. greaseball finally lets the girl go, and jimin takes his chance.

his hands heat up, sans the flames this time, and he punches greaseball across the jaw, hard, the heated metal of his rings leaving a brand on the crook's skin. "shit!" greaseball clutches his jaw and spits out a tooth, falling to his knees. jimin uses the same binding effect on his calves, turning to the girls. one looks shaken, the other is getting her phone out.

"i-i'll dial 119," she says, looking jimin in his molten eyes. "thank you — they've been tailing us for weeks, but this was the first time they tried something."