#I changed Lute's villain name from Tsunami to Undertow bc Tsunami was so that it would match Angie's name of Sirocco

[thelastspeecher]

D R A M

The title of this post is actually what I named the Word doc that I wrote this up in.  This write takes place in an AU inspired by a post that said something along the lines of “supervillain winds up marrying the ex-spouse of their superhero archnemesis”.  I saw that post and was like “time to make another version of the Superhero/villain AU”.  So here you go.

——————————————————————————————

              Stan slid into his regular stool at the bar. At the sound of soft muttering, he looked over.  He raised an eyebrow.  Normally, no one sat next to his stool.  But today, a young woman sat there, staring morosely at her drink and mumbling something.

              “Hey, hot stuff,” he said cheerfully, leaning in. She held up a hand.  Light glinted off the golden band around her ring finger.

              “I’m married,” she said dully.

              “You don’t sound too happy about it,” Stan remarked. She glared at him.  “I call it like I see it, toots.”

              “Don’t call me ‘toots’,” she snapped.

              “Fine.  What should I call you, then?”

              “By my name.”

              “Which would be…?”

              “…Angie.”

              “Angie.”  Stan held out a hand.  “I’m Stan.” Angie shook the offered hand. “So, what brings a troubled wife to my favorite dive?”

              “My dick of a husband,” Angie groused.  She slumped over the bar.  “I swear…some days he acts like a completely dif’rent man than the one I married.”  Tears shone in her voice, along with a distinct southern accent.  She picked up her drink and pulled on the straw.  It rattled in the ice at the bottom of the otherwise empty glass.  “And I’m all out.”

              “I’ll cover it.  What’s your drink?”

              “Long Island iced tea.”

              “Oof.  Maybe I shouldn’t get you a second one of those.  Those are a bad decision in a glass.”  Angie straightened, her eyes boring into Stan’s.

              “I can handle my liquor, sir.  I bet I can handle it better ‘n you can,” she snarled. Stan held his hands up.

              “Okay, okay, I believe you.  Man, you’ve got claws, don’t you?”

              “Maybe.”

              “Heh.  I like a woman with a bit of fight in her.”  Stan winked.

              “Still married.”

              “To that dick?  Why?”

              “He treats me right,” Angie mumbled into her drink. “…Sometimes.”

              “Sometimes?  What about the rest of the time?”

              “He tries to get me to quit my job and be a housewife.”

              “Why?”

              “If I knew, I’d tell ya,” Angie said with a shrug. She tapped the rim of her glass. “So, about that drink…?”

              “Hey, barkeep?” Stan called, flagging down the bartender.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one corner of Angie’s mouth turn up, into a ghost of a smile.

-----

              Stan had just about finished putting his boots on when his favorite coworker, Undertow, stormed into the locker room.  He watched with a raised eyebrow as Undertow tore open his locker, muttering under his breath.

              “You’re in a mood today,” Stan commented.  Undertow sighed.  He looked back at Stan.  The crew’s general policy was to keep masks on at all times in HQ, since there were some new heroes with telepathy who might be able to take a peek at a villain’s memories.  Undertow’s outfit had a full cowl, rather than a domino mask like Stan’s, but even partially obscured, he had one of the most expressive faces Stan had ever seen. And at the moment, Undertow’s expression was frustrated and saddened.

              “I thought she was fin’ly goin’ to leave him,” Undertow said.  Stan’s second eyebrow raised to join his first.

              He’s pretty damn upset.  Normally, he keeps that accent in check.

              “Who?” Stan asked.

              “My sister.”

              “You have a sister?”

              “Two.”  Undertow sat on the bench next to Stan.  “But the one I’m speakin’ of is my twin sister.”  Stan racked his brain for any hints about Undertow’s background.  As someone without villainous family connections, he wasn’t privy to information that some of his coworkers had.  But he remembered hearing once that Undertow came from a long line of villains.

              “Is she…in the trade?” Stan asked.  Undertow shook his head.

              “No.  When we were younger, she wanted to be.  But she decided not to, when she started datin’ the feller what became her husband.” Undertow scowled.  “Her husband’s a real piece of shit.”

              “Did he prevent her from being a villain?”

              “Nah.  He don’t know ‘bout our fam’ly bein’ full of villains.  But he’s on the straight ‘n narrow, and wouldn’t have liked his wife to be breakin’ the law.”  Undertow sighed heavily.  “As it is, he don’t really like his wife doin’ much of anything.  Which is why my sister needs to dump his sorry ass.”  Undertow rubbed his face.  “And I thought she was goin’ to do it this time.  But she didn’t.”

              “What happened?”

              “They had another argument about how he wants her to start poppin’ out kids.  She don’t want to yet, ‘cause she feels like takin’ maternity leave right now would cripple her career trajectory.  And his response was that she won’t need maternity leave, ‘cause she can just quit her job.  He keeps pushin’ that issue over ‘n over.  He don’t like her workin’.”

              “Sounds like a douche.”

              “He is!  And after that fight, she came to my house fer a shoulder to cry on.  I did my best to sway her, but she still went back to him once she’d calmed down.”  Undertow groaned loudly.  “Honestly, at this point, I can’t think of a single thing that’d get her to leave him.”

              “Maybe I should make a pass at her,” Stan joked. Undertow snorted.

              “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.  You’d be better fer her than what she’s got right now.”

-----

              Stan went to the bar every night, hoping to see Angie again, but it took a month before she showed up.  This time, she arrived after he did, visibly in tears. She made her way to the stool next to Stan’s and sat down.  Faint breezes danced around her, kicking up her caramel-colored hair.

              Is…is she a super?  I knew she was something special.  Stan wordlessly slid her his whisky, which she downed in one swallow. He winced.

              “Your husband again?” he asked.  Angie nodded morosely.  “Well, at least he lasted a month before he pissed you off enough to make you drown your sorrows.”

              “Nah, I just went to my brother’s last time,” Angie said hoarsely.  “He’s got real moonshine, and I wanted somethin’ strong.”

              “If your brother’s got hooch, why are you coming here?” Stan asked.  Angie slid Stan’s empty tumbler back to him, determinedly avoiding eye contact.

              “I…wanted to talk to you.”

              “…Really?”

              “Yes.”

              “Look, lady, I’m not a marriage counselor.”

              “I know.  But you don’t have an agenda.  My brother does.  My whole fam’ly does, all my friends do.  All they say is ‘leave him’.”  Angie met Stan’s gaze.  Her eyes were a bright, brilliant blue, swimming in tears.  “I just need someone to listen.”

              “I can do that, but you’re gonna have to pay for another whiskey for me first,” Stan said.  Angie managed a watery chuckle.

              “Fine.”  Angie waved over the bartender and ordered herself a Long Island iced tea and another whiskey for Stan.

              “All right,” Stan said once his drink was in hand. “What’s going on?”

              “My ma became a stay-at-home mother when I was a tot.  She kept house and raised six kids-”  Stan coughed roughly.

              “Six kids?” he croaked.  Angie nodded.  “What the-”

              “We’re Catholic.”

              “Ah, okay.  Carry on.”

              “Props to her.  It’s a rough job to have, and I don’t look down on it.”  Angie slammed her hands against the counter.  A wind picked up, rattling the old beer advertisements on the wall.  “But it ain’t fer me!”

              “Lemme guess.  Your husband wants you to be a stay-at-home mom.”

              “Yes.  Which I knew. But this time- this time, he brought my ma into it!  Told me that I’d be good at it ‘cause my ma clearly was.  I just-”  Angie gestured wordlessly.  “How- how could he think that’s a compliment?”

              “Probably ‘cause he’s so dead set on you doing that,” Stan said with a shrug.  “He’s already decided you’ll do it, so he’s already started complimenting you on it.”

              “…That makes sense,” Angie said softly.  She groaned loudly.  “Why is he like this?”  Stan shrugged.  “I want to stay with him, to get him to change his mind-”

              “That’s not your job.  Your job is-”  Stan frowned. “Wait, what do you do?”

              “I’m a zookeeper.”

              “Your job is to keep zoos,” Stan said.  Angie furrowed her brow, like she couldn’t decide whether she was amused by Stan’s phrasing or not.  “Not to drag your husband out of the fifties.”

              “But I’m his wife.”

              “And?”

              “I’m s’pposed to help him change.”

              “What if he doesn’t want to change?” Stan asked. “What do you do then?”  The winds that had entered the bar with Angie abruptly died down.

              “…Yer right.”

              “I am?”

              “He don’t want to change.  He don’t want to listen to me.  I can’t force it, I shouldn’t have even tried.”  Angie dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and stood to leave.

              “Hey, uh wait-” Stan started.  Angie looked at him.

              “Yes?”

              “I, uh, I never got your last name.”

              “It’s Hillcrest.”  Angie slid her wedding ring off and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. “But not fer long.”  She paused for a moment, watching Stan, then leaned in and placed a gentle peck on his cheek.  With that, she left the bar.

              Stan stared at the door long after she had gone, his mind running a mile a minute.

              Did I just get her to break up with her husband?

-----

              Stan walked out of the shower and headed for his locker to get dressed in his civvies.  After he had his pants on, Undertow entered the locker room and went for his locker as well.

              “Hey,” Stan said.  Undertow grunted.  “Is it your sister’s husband again?”

              “Hmm?”  Undertow turned around.  “Oh, no, she finally dumped him.”

              “Really?  Good for her.”

              “Yeah.  But she’s got a new beau, and she insisted on dinner with him tonight.”  Undertow sighed.  “I’m not looking forward to it.”

              “Is he a dick, too?”

              “Don’t know.  Haven’t met him.”

              “Ah.  I get it. You don’t wanna meet your sister’s new man just yet.”

              “No, I do not.”

              “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not looking forward to dinner tonight, either,” Stan said, slipping on his T-shirt. “I’m meeting my girlfriend’s brother for the first time.”

              “Oof.”  Undertow looked at him sympathetically.  “Don’t worry too much, Flamethrower.  You’re a great guy.”

              “Thanks, but I dunno if her brother’s gonna think that. My girlfriend says he can be a bit tough.”  Undertow walked over to Stan and clapped a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

              “I’m sure it’ll go great.”

              “Hopefully,” Stan muttered.  Undertow smiled at him.

              “If her brother doesn’t like you, he’s a damn fool.”

-----

              Stan walked up to the address Angie had given him. When she divorced her ex-husband, she had moved in with her twin brother, Lute.  Apparently, Lute was thrilled to have her with him again.

              I get it, though.  That twin bond is strong.  Stan stopped in front of the door.  He took a deep breath and knocked.

              “Comin’!” Angie called.  Stan felt some of his nerves disperse at the sound of her voice. The door opened, revealing the beaming face of his girlfriend.  “Stanley!” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you so much fer agreein’ to this.”

              “You said it’s important, so…”

              “It is,” Angie said softly.  “It really is.”  Her eyes lit up.  “Oh! And, um, remember how ya told me that yer not exactly…on the side of the law?” she said, her voice low.  Stan nodded.  Telling Angie he was a villain had been nerve wracking, but she had proven herself once again to be the best possible girlfriend and taken it in stride. “Well, the reason I took it so well is ‘cause I have a lot of fam’ly members who ‘re in the same career.”

              “Wait, really?”

              “Yep!  Lute’s one of ‘em.  If things go well tonight, I can prob’ly convince him to put a good word in fer ya, get ya moved up in the ranks a bit.”

              “You really think so?” Stan asked eagerly. Angie nodded.  “That would be awesome, Ang.”

              “Just be charmin’, okay?”  Angie messed with his shirt.  “But that shouldn’t be a problem.”

              “Hey, Angie, the oven just beeped!” a voice shouted. Stan’s head whipped up.

              That almost sounded like Undertow.

              “All right, I’ll come take care of it,” Angie called back.  She kissed Stan on the cheek.  “Come on in and take a seat in the livin’ room.”

              “You got it.”  Stan kissed the top of her head and entered the house, following the hallway until he arrived at a cozy living room.  He took a seat on the brown couch.  Shortly after, a young man that looked eerily similar to Angie entered, holding a glass of water, and took a seat next to him.

              “So, um…” the man said.  He cleared his throat.  “Yer Stan?”

              “Yeah.  I’m guessing you’re Lute?”

              “Yessir.”

              “Nice to meet you,” Stan said, holding out a hand. Lute shook it, visibly reluctant. “Angie speaks pretty highly of you.”

              “She does the same fer you.”  Lute cleared his throat again.  “What do you do?”

              “I sell used cars.”

              “Used cars?”

              “Yeah.”  Stan shrugged.  “It’s just to make some dough while I work on my passion projects.”  Lute eyed Stan with interest.  Much like when he had heard Lute’s voice earlier, Stan was reminded of Undertow.  Something about the look in Lute’s gray eyes was eerily familiar.

              “Passion projects?  Like what?”

              “Oh, uh, I’m keeping them to myself until they work out,” Stan said.

              Don’t wanna spill just yet that I want to become a villain full-time.

              “Ah.”  Lute seemed disappointed.  He looked down at his glass of water.  After a moment, he spoke again.  “You a super?”

              “Yeah.  You?” Stan asked without thinking.  He fought back a wince.

              Angie just told you he was a villain, of course he’s a super, you dumbass.  Lute smirked. The water in his glass shot up, hovered as a sphere for a split second, then zipped around the room before returning to his glass.  Stan’s jaw dropped.

              “Whattaya think?” Lute asked snidely.

              “…I think you’re a super,” Stan said.

              Shit, it is Undertow!  How did I wind up dating my coworker’s twin sister without realizing it?

              “Yup.”  Lute winked. “Better yet, I’m a mask.  Give ya twenty bucks if ya can guess who.”

              “Lute!” Angie scolded from the kitchen.  Lute groaned.

              “Fine, I’ll drop it.”  Before Stan could think of what to do with the information that Lute was Undertow, the villain in question spoke again.  “So, ya sell used cars.  What’s yer education like?”

              “Uh, high school.”

              “That’s it?” Lute asked.  Stan nodded.  Lute frowned. “My sister has a-”

              “Doctorate in herpetology, I know,” Stan said.

              “And you don’t think it’s odd at all that someone so educated is with someone who only graduated high school?” Lute pressed. Stan shrugged.

              “It just means that she’s smart enough for the both of us,” he said airily.  Lute froze. His eyes began to frantically search Stan’s face.

              “…What did ya just say?” he whispered.

              “That Angie’s smart enough for both of us,” Stan said.  A memory abruptly surfaced of a conversation he’d had with Undertow a few days ago. He had mentioned his relationship, as well as the discrepancy between his education and his girlfriend’s.  And Undertow had simply replied that Stan’s girlfriend would have to be smart enough for the both of them, then.

              “Hmm.”  Lute leaned back, still staring at Stan.  “Say, yer a super, right?  What kind?” In lieu of a verbal response, Stan snapped his fingers.  A flame burst to life on his fingertips.

              “Whattaya think?”

              “Flamethrower,” Lute whispered.  Stan extinguished the flame.

              “Undertow.”

              “Yer- I-”  Lute dragged his hands down his face.  “Consarnit!”

              “Yeah, I gotta admit, finding out that my girlfriend’s twin is my favorite coworker is pretty weird,” Stan confessed.  Lute groaned.  “But you seem to be taking this way harder than you should be.”

              “It’s just- yer my fav’rite coworker, too.”

              “You make that sound like it’s a problem.”

              “It is.  I like ya, Stan, which is goin’ to make it difficult to be hard on ya.”

              “Wait, what?” Stan asked.  Lute sighed.

              “I have to be hard on ya to make sure yer all right fer my sister.”

              “What?  Come on, man!”

              “My sister just got out of a bad relationship. I don’t want her to wind up in another one right off the bat.”

              “You know me.  I’m a good guy.  I treat Angie right.”

              “That’s what I thought ‘bout Max,” Lute said softly. “Hell, we’d been friends since we were in diapers.  I thought he was a decent sort.  So when he ‘n Angie started datin’ in high school, I didn’t bat an eye.  I should’ve.  If I had, maybe I could’ve stopped Angie from needin’ a divorce.”

              “Lute.”  Stan and Lute looked up.  Angie had entered the living room.  She crossed over to Lute, knelt in front of him, and placed a hand on one of his knees. “Don’t blame yourself.  The only person to blame is me.  I should’ve left the minute he became a hero, and I was goin’ to have to abandon the dream of followin’ the fam’ly tradition.  But I stayed.  Even when he started raggin’ on me ‘bout how I needed to be a more traditional wife.”

              “You were in a toxic relationship,” Lute said softly.  “Yer not to blame.”

              “The only person to blame here is your dick of an ex-husband,” Stan said.  Angie and Lute looked over.  “Lute’s right, Angie.  It’s difficult to leave a toxic relationship.  My mom’s proof of that.  But Angie’s right, too, Lute.  It’s not your fault, either.  Sometimes…sometimes people start out good, but then they get worse.  Even if you had been hard on Max when he started dating Angie, things still could have played out the way they did.”

              “Yeah,” Lute said.  He sighed.  “Yer right, Stan.  We should be blamin’ Max, not ourselves.  Especially since he’s apparently a hero.”  Lute directed the statement at Angie, who paled.  “Banjolina, what’s that about?”

              “Banjolina?” Stan mumbled.

              “I didn’t share information either way,” Angie said tartly, getting to her feet.  “I ain’t a snitch.”

              “Ya won’t be tellin’ us what his hero name is, then?” Lute asked.  Angie shook her head.  “Hmph. Guess we’ll just have to figure it out on our own.”

              “Speaking of secret identities,” Stan said, “why didn’t you warn us that we already knew each other?”  Angie grinned.

              “I might not have ever gotten into the villainy game, but that don’t mean I ignore the chance to stir up some mischief.” Something in the kitchen beeped.  “Oh, I’ve got to get that.”  She rushed back into the kitchen.

              “Given what ya just said and what I already knew about you,” Lute said slowly, “I’ll drop the protective big brother speech.” Stan leaned back.

              “Cool.  I mean, no offense, but you’re not as intimidating as you think you are,” Stan replied.  Lute rolled his eyes.

              “Whatever.”  He leaned closer to Stan.  “Between the two of us, I think we could figure out which hero it is what broke Angie’s heart and trapped her in a bad relationship fer years on end.”  Stan nodded.

              “I agree.  That motherfucker needs to get a firm ass-kicking.”

#I changed Lute's villain name from Tsunami to Undertow bc Tsunami was so that it would match Angie's name of Sirocco #but he doesn't have that motivation for his villain name in this situation #I am a big fan of Drama in my AUs so this AU is v fun to play with lmao #Best Revenge AU #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Lute McGucket #Stangie #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks