forum Craving Enemies-to-lovers, slow-burn // Open OxO // 16+

Started June 08, 2021 by @Ziggy-loves-Shiggy

tune

Thanks!! I just like shadow powers so I came up with this randomly lol. I'm excited for this; we can start whenever you like. Uh… how do we want them to meet/interact?

Uhhh theoretically Laken could be doing villain stuff and Paris could come in like "Hey stop that" and then becomes a human strobe light or something lmao
I'm always down to injure my characters too so 💅

"becomes a human strobe light"
I love you; you are a genius
Yes, I like it. Injuries are fun so maybe they hurt each other a lil' or a lot idk and Laken might feel bad about it in the future once he realizes Paris's life is crapola

Lmaoo he would definitely research Laken's Weaknesses and be like "AIGHT BET" as he flashes violently
We can also make use of Paris' blood phobia thing of course 👌

Yesssss. Yes to both.

Alrighty! Do you want to start, then? Feel free to get creative with whatever aha

Sure I can try ahah. I usually suck eggs when it comes to starters but I'll give it my best shot. I left it open though so like Paris can show up any time between now and when Laken gets back to his base.

Starter

He was so good at being bad.

Laken grinned devilishly at his easy victory, at the figure slumped against the brick wall in front of him, shoulders drooped, gasping for a labored breath. Dark liquid, blackened by the shadows that the night cast over the quiet alley, seeped from a gaping wound in the man's chest and dripped from the blade hanging loosely from Laken's fingers.

"It's a shame, really," Laken hummed, twisting the weapon in his hand. "Things didn't have to go this way."

"You won't… you won't get away with this," the man rasped; blood spurted from between his colorless lips. "The— the police— the syndicate—"

"That's what they always say, and yet—" Laken stepped closer, pressing his foot against the man's chest, applying pressure. "I always do."

The man cried out; red dribbled down his chin. "They'll kill you! They'll kill you— God, I hope they do."

"Who? The syndicate? Oh, please. Your syndicate is one of the most pathetic crime syndicates in this forsaken city. They can't touch me." Laken removed his foot and bent down closer to the man, lightly running his dagger along the man's jaw. "And the police don't care for scum like you and me. For criminals. They won't care a bit when they find your stiff, mutilated corpse in some back alley, rotting like the garbage you are."

The man only groaned, wheezing.

Laken pulled away, glancing at the duffle bag on the ground a few feet from the man. A few speckles of red dotted it, but it was relatively unscathed. "Thanks for the cash, by the way. I'm sure your superiors won't mind, eh?" He grabbed the duffle, hefting it over his shoulder.

"They'll… stop you." The man closed his eyes, his breaths labored. "The police. The heroes."

Laken barked out a laugh. "You poor moron! Still clinging to childish dreams? There are no heroes here."

He plunged his heart into the man's heart and twisted it. He yanked it out, shook the blood from it, and shoved it into a sheath on his side.

And with that, he started down the dark alley, on his merry way.

(It's great! Mine might not be as long but I'll try and make it detailed enough anyway aha)

---

"Hey, London! I'm heading out for groceries! Stay out of trouble, will ya?" Paris called out over his shoulder as he spun his house keys around the index finger of one hand. His younger sister scoffed from the other room and called back. "I won't, dummy! And besides, I'm not even that little! I'm sixteen!" "That's plenty young!" "Yeah, yeah. Make sure you get milk, we're out." "Got it~!" Paris sighed softly and, with that, headed out the front door of his apartment.

He headed down the street, humming idly to himself with his eyelids lowered ever so slightly as he walked. On the way to the store, he heard the tail end of some altercation that sounded pretty nasty. Just in case, he took off his jacket, under which he had on his spandex top that he generally wore for heroing, and put on his mask.

After his jacket was off, he stepped into the alley and noticed a man's body. At the sight of all of the blood on the corpse, he felt a bit queasy and unsteady, but still stuck out one trembling hand to check for a pulse.

Too late… already dead.

He closed his eyes with a slight shudder, biting his lip and turning his head away before he opened them again. Upon opening them, he saw a tall man walking away with what appeared to be a dagger in his hand. He must have killed this guy… but why?

"Oi! You!" He called out. Although he figured he was probably supposed to be afraid in a situation like this, he rarely felt that way. He got a rush out of danger, enjoying the kick of adrenaline that coursed through his veins whenever he approached some enemy. "You can't just go around killing people, you know." He crossed his arms and stood his ground, ignoring the slight lingering dizziness from the man's blood. He could tell that the murderer was much taller than him, but he didn't particularly care.

Perfecto.

Laken paused mid-step, casting a lazy glance back over his shoulder at the poor fool who decided to speak to him. "I can't?" he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Mmm… I dunno." His eyes landed on the dead man, satisfaction pulling that smirk into a wicked smile. His white teeth and bright eyes stood out from his otherwise shadowed form, like some kind of evil Cheshire Cat in the night. "That guy seems to argue differently, don't you think?"

Paris scowled up at Laken, not looking afraid in the slightest. I recognize this guy… I've definitely seen him around before. On the news and stuff. "I bet you're feeling real confident since you get to hang out in this nice dark alley, huh? You love places like this, don't you?" He was growing angrier now, and small crackles of electricity traveled over his entire body, lighting up the area around him a bit. "I can change that. I can make you miserable. I can make this hell for you."

Laken let out a scoff and took a half-step back. "Oh, can you now?" His tone, previously playful and taunting, took on a darker weight. "Well, if you plan to make this Hell," He stepped backwards again until his back was practically against one of the brick walls, where the shadows were darkest; his form bled away into the blackness, vanishing as if he were only an illusion to begin with. Several yards behind Paris, he emerged from the night, his entire form darkened by shadows, except for that ungodly grin and his cat-like eyes. "I suppose I'll just have to return the favor."

Paris growled softly, trying to keep his eyes on Laken as well as he could with the taller man dipping in and out of the shadows. When Laken reappeared, Paris let his powers flare up, his entire body flashing brightly and rapidly. He lit up a large stretch of the alleyway so that there would be far less shadows that Laken could hide in. The bright light also made it rather difficult to see. "You can't hide from me, bastard!"

The light shattered the darkness like machine gun firing through a window. The average person would've been caught off guard, blinded momentarily, even— but Laken was not the average person.

Laken hissed out a few curse words and stumbled backwards as the world turned a burning white; spots of light danced across his vision, taunting him. He squeezed his eyes shut and the duffle bag he'd been hefting hit the ground with a dull thud. Even with being warned in advance, there was no way he could've prepared for such an attack without leaving altogether— light never worked in his favor— and now leaving wasn't an option. The shadows weren't dark enough; he could only teleport through the blackest ones.

Fine then. If the human sparkler wanted to change up the game, so be it.

"Who said anything about hiding?" Laken snarled, fingers tightening around the dagger in his hand. His other hand snapped to the gun on his belt and drew it out in a flash. He couldn't see— his frickin' eyes weren't even open— but that didn't stop him from firing several wild shots in the direction of his enemy's aggravating voice.

Paris darted forward to snatch the duffel bag, which considering its weight, he could only assume contained a pretty large quantity of cash. I'll have to turn it into the police… that's my job. I'm sure they wouldn't notice if a little bit was missing, though…- ow, what the hell?!

White hot pain coursed through Paris' shoulder and his breathing hitched as he screwed his eyes shut. The bright light weakened somewhat and he clutched at his shoulder with his free hand, glaring up at Laken. I suppose I should have expected him to play dirty, especially considering that I did as well.

He decided that it was time to use some actual electricity considering the circumstances. His body crackled for a few seconds, but then bolts of electricity shot out from his body towards Laken.

Laken fired off another random shot before the electricity made contact. His jaw tightened, entire body suddenly convulsing as volts of electricity surged through him. Everything went white, even whiter than it had been before— and everything burned. He fell forward onto the pavement, knees grinding into the asphalt as the rest of his body twitched and contorted. By the time the last bits of electricity left his system, he was lying on his side, gun still clutched tightly in a white-knuckled grip. His body was stiff, burning, aching. He grunted a little as he tried to push himself to his knees, though his eyes still hadn't had time to adjust, and moving was difficult. But he wasn't about to go down without a fight. He still had bullets left in his gun, if only he knew where to aim—

Paris adjusted his grip on the duffel bag, trying his best to hold it with only one hand since his other shoulder had been shot. He could feel blood trickling down his arm, and it made his heart race. He wasn't sure how long he could even stay conscious, much less continue putting up a fight against this guy. So, he figured that running to the police with the bag was his best bet. He turned to do so and found himself staggering and dizzy, but continued to try and walk forward anyway.

The sound of his footsteps was enough. Laken gritted his teeth and lifted his gun, hand trembling and twitching from the leftover electricity that still seemed to light his nerve endings on fire. He couldn't see anything; it was all a painful stinging white, bright lights burning across his vision. But he had to try. If he could just get a decent shot in.
"Die." Laken hissed between his teeth. He pulled the trigger once. Twice. Hand trembling, he pulled it a third time. The gun clicked, announcing that he'd ran out of chances.

Paris could faintly hear Laken lifting the gun and looked over his shoulder, pale and afraid. I have to keep running… he can probably hardly see, and it's difficult to hit a moving target. He kept going, dodging once, twice, and getting clipped by the third, which he wasn't expecting. He thought the gun only had two more bullets. He hissed through his teeth in pain and staggered, but forced himself forward. It'll be fine… he doesn't have any more ammo and it's too bright to slip into the shadows and attack…