#jor building
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the-ellia-west · 30 days ago
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Imagine you got a chance to change and prove yourself to everybody who thought you couldn't do it just by protecting one thing, and then it breaks, and instead of just getting scorned, you get thrown out of your home with NOTHING and left to die in a sewer, and on top if it all, your own father is the one who suggested it
(Certified Mangrove Post)
@an-indecisive-nerd @sunflowerrosy @urnumber1star @homelessnerd @vesanal @darkandstormydolls @supercimi @corinneglass @sm-writes-chaos @thebookishkiwi @blargh-500 @lunaeuphternal @write-with-will @yolbert @thewritingautisticat
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deputy-buck · 2 years ago
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Curumim Chama Cunatã Que Vou Contar - Jorge Ben Jor
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the-fyre-flie · 2 months ago
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Kid Robin!Bruce Wayne and Batman!Alfred but it's one of those weird Batman The Brave and The Bold plots. Also, Jor El as Superman and Clark as Superboy, using the name Kal instead :D
Batman!Alfred getting kidnapped by like aliens or something as Robin!Bruce is all upset about it! Shenanigans ensue! Idk i just think stubborn Robin!Bruce and Superboy!Kal is cute Supersons au stuff
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"Robin! Get the Justice League, and don't follow me-" Alfred yelled over the sound of destruction, the crashing of a building almost drowning him out as he was lifted away. Whatever kind of binds these galatic invader used on him, he couldn't break them. As he struggled, he could see young Bruce below him trying to clamber up the broken city scape to grab his mentors cape.
"Batman! I'm coming!"
He sounded so scared, grappling up the fallen structure to get as close to the weird alien ship as possible, only to be knocked away by a strange forcefield. He grunted as he landed hard against the ground, Alfreds concern for his young ward visible just before he disappeared up into the ship.
Coming face to face with his captors, the alien species went on some rant about kidnapping the strongest being on the planet so they could take over, leaving Alfred glaring at them from the alien cage they kept him in. For now, he was trapped and would have to wait. Hopefully, Bruce would do as he said... the boy had a problem with not listening to his commands.
Bruce watched in abject horror as his father figure was taken away by aliens, unable to reach the alien ship as he was left groaning on the broken building roof. He clutched his arm, the fall having knocked his shoulder out of place, moving to stand as quickly as his small body could handle. Alfred had told him to get the Justice League... but... he felt like he had to go after him. By himself.... that was *his* adoptive dad, this was *his* fight- A voice crackled in his earpiece, Superman, Jor El, asking what happened and where he was. He hasn't been able to stop Batman from being taken, but he kept trying to reassure Bruce he was on his way.
"Robin? Stay put, okay. Superboy and I are on our way to your location. I know Batman got captured, but -" Jor started, his voice coming in over the sound of wind. In the background, Bruce could make out Kal, Jors son, aka Superboy, shouting, 'There he is!' before the pair landed in front of Bruce. Immediately, Jor was trying to tend to Bruce's shoulder, tutting softly as he helped the boy pop it back into place. Kal was visibly worried, and while the two boys had never been particular close, Kal saw Bruce as a friend. It sucked to see his friend upset.
"They took Batman. I have to save him." Bruce grunted as he rolled his shoulder, Jors disappointed look almost causing him to shy away. Despite how different Alfred and Jor were, they both had glares that could stop anyone in their tracks.
"No, you aren't. You're staying here with Superboy while the Justice League goes after him." Jor was very direct with Bruce, knowing the boy didn't need comfort, he needed structure. Bruce worked best when he had a plan to follow and orders to obey. Being overly emotional did nothing for him. Superman gestured to Superboy, a small smile on his face.
"Kal was worried about you, Robin. Best you go reassure him you're fine." This was Jors way of asking Bruce to not be rash and run off.
Bruce scoffed, but he didn't dare argue yet. He could sneak off and save Alfred in a bit...
Jor left quickly, leaving the two teens alone on the broken rooftop. Kal stepped closer, his face scrunched in worry.
"I hope you've learned your lesson to stop running off without the rest of your team." Kal had certainly inherited his fathers directness. He crossed his arms over his chest, obscuring the red and gold emblem.
"I haven't. Batman needed me, and I was closest to him." Bruce crossed his own arms in return, ignoring the jolt of pain. Kal rolled his eyes before leading the way down the side of the mountain, floating a bit as he watched Bruce slide down the rubble. Silence filled the air, only interrupted by distant crumbling buildings and the sounds of Bruce's shoes against the concrete.
"Bruce-"
"Robin."
"Robin... you're heavily bruised, you just watched Batman get kidnapped. Let's head back to the team and regroup and calm down."
Kals Superboy costume was bright, his cape making him look like a perfect mini version of his father. Bruces own costume, the green, red and yellow, the cape cut into the shape of bird wings, the domino mask, it was all a stark contrast to his mentors' dark outfit. It was a little comical that Bruce was so broody despite being dressed like a traffic light, while Alfred was so level headed and optimistic despite being dressed like a bat. Alfreds words echoed in his head. 'It's so I can see you better during patrol, boy. It's for your safety.'
"I'm going after Batman. Help me get up there." Bruce pointed to the space ship that was still in low orbit. Kal sighed, taking a moment before opening his arms to carry Bruce to the ship.
"You're so stubborn."
"Of course I am."
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antisocialsharky · 26 days ago
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You Should Know About Conduct Disorder
Conduct disorder (CD), sometimes also referred to as dissocial disorder, is a condition, that between 2-10% of people are diagnosed with, tho the actual number of people experiencing enough symptoms to meet criteria may be higher.
It is grouped under "Disruptive, Impulse-Control and Conduct Disorders" in the DSM-5 alongside oppositional defiant disorder (ODD), intermittent explosive disorder (IED) pyromania, kleptomania, otherwise specified & unspecified "..." disorder and antisocial personality disorder (which is grouped here and under personality disorders).
All of these conditions involve some sort of problem in the self control of emotions and/or behavior and are differentiated from other emotional/behavioral regulation problems, by including a violation of the rights of others and/or bringing the individual into significant conflict with societal norms or authority figures.
Conduct disorder has the following criteria points (quoted):
A. A repetitive and persistent pattern of behavior in which the basic rights of others or major age-appropriate societal norms or rules are violated, as manifested by the presence of at least three of the following 15 criteria in the past 12 months from any of the categories below, with at least one criterion present in the past 6 months:
■ Category: Aggression to People and Animals
1. Often bullies, threatens, or intimidates others.
2. Often initiates physical fights.
3. Has used a weapon that can cause serious physical harm to others (e.g., a bat, brick, broken bottle, knife, gun).
4. Has been physically cruel to people.
5. Has been physically cruel to animals.
6. Has stolen while confronting a victim (e.g., mugging, purse snatching, extortion, armed robbery).
7. Has forced someone into sexual activity.
■ Category: Destruction of Property
8. Has deliberately engaged in fire setting with the intention of causing serious damage.
9. Has deliberately destroyed others’ property (other than by fire setting).
■ Category: Deceitfulness or Theft
10. Has broken into someone else’s house, building, or car.
11. Often lies to obtain goods or favors or to avoid obligations (i.e., “cons” others).
12. Has stolen items of nontrivial value without confronting a victim (e.g., shoplifting, but without breaking and entering; forgery).
■ Category: Serious Violation of Rules
13. Often stays out at night despite parental prohibitions, beginning before age 13 years.
14. Has run away from home overnight at least twice while living in the parental or parental surrogate home, or once without returning for a lengthy period.
15. Is often truant from school, beginning before age 13 years.
B. The disturbance in behavior causes clinically significant impairment in social, academic, or occupational functioning.
C. If the individual is age 18 years or older, criteria are not met for antisocial personality disorder
Specify whether:
• Childhood-onset type: Individuals show at least one symptom characteristic of conduct disorder prior to age 10 years.
• Adolescent-onset type: Individuals show no symptom characteristic of conduct disorder prior to age 10 years.
• Unspecified onset: Criteria for a diagnosis of conduct disorder are met, but there is not enough information available to determine whether the onset of the first symptom was before or after age 10 years.
Specify if: With limited prosocial emotions => To qualify for this specifier, an individual must have displayed at least two of the following characteristics persistently over at least 12 months and in multiple relationships and settings. These characteristics reflect the individual’s typical pattern of interpersonal and emotional functioning over this period and not just occasional occurrences in some situations. Thus, to assess the criteria for the specifier, multiple information sources are necessary. In addition to the individual’s self-report, it is necessary to consider reports by others who have known the individual for extended periods of time (e.g., parents, teachers, co-workers, extended family members, peers):
● Lack of remorse or guilt: Does not feel bad or guilty when he or she does something wrong (exclude remorse when expressed only when caught and/or facing punishment). The individual shows a general lack of concern about the negative consequences of his or her actions. For example, the individual is not remorseful after hurting someone or does not care about the consequences of breaking rules.
● Callous—lack of empathy: Disregards and is unconcerned about the feelings of others. The individual is described as cold and uncaring. The person appears more concerned about the effects of his or her actions on himself or herself, rather than their effects on others, even when they result in substantial harm to others.
● Unconcerned about performance: Does not show concern about poor/problematic performance at school, at work, or in other important activities. The individual does not put forth the effort necessary to perform well, even when expectations are clear, and typically blames others for his or her poor performance.
● Shallow or deficient affect: Does not express feelings or show emotions to others, except in ways that seem shallow, insincere, or superficial (e.g., actions contradict the emotion displayed; can turn emotions “on” or “off" quickly) or when emotional expressions are used for gain (e.g., emotions displayed to manipulate or intimidate)
Specify current severity:
• Mild: Few if any conduct problems in excess of those required to make the diagnosis are present, and conduct problems cause relatively minor harm to others (e.g., lying, truancy, staying out after dark without permission, other rule breaking).
• Moderate: The number of conduct problems and the effect on others are intermediate between those specified in “mild” and those in “severe” (e.g., stealing without confronting a victim, vandalism).
• Severe: Many conduct problems in excess of those required to make the diagnosis are present, or conduct problems cause considerable harm to others (e.g., forced sex, physical cruelty, use of a weapon, stealing while confronting a victim, breaking and entering).
The associated features section additionally notes: "Especially in ambiguous situations, aggressive individuals with conduct disorder frequently misperceive the intentions of others as more hostile and threatening than is the case and respond with aggression that they then feel is reasonable and justified. Personality features of trait negative emotionality and poor self-control, including poor frustration tolerance, irritability, temper outbursts, suspiciousness, insensitivity to punishment, thrill seeking, and recklessness, frequently co-occur with conduct disorder. Substance misuse is often an associated feature, particularly in adolescent females. Suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, and completed suicide occur at a higher than expected rate in individuals with conduct disorder"
Other mentioned info:
• CD onset after age 16 is rare
• childhood onset CD often (but not always) has the precursor ODD (aka you qualify for ODD before you qualify for CD)
• in a majority of cases the disorder remits by adulthood
• risk factors include genetics, environmental, etc.
Now, thats a lot of information and conduct disorder, as well as the other conditions in the group, are also heavily debated within both the psychological field and online spaces, so it can be a bit hard to really understand whats going on here!
Let me try to explain the condition to you with the help of my own experience, as I was verbally diagnosed with "dissocial disorder" at the age of 15! I do have to mention though, that my diagnostic assessment already included an ASPD specific questionaire and heavily focused on those symptoms as I already met all seven of them and my psych used both "dissocial disorder" and "dissocial personality disorder" to refer to what I have! Therefore your experience with an assessment may look very different!
Its important to note, that not every person with conduct disorder goes on to develop ASPD! There is estimates that mention that 25% of girls and 40% of boys with CD go on to develop ASPD, but the numbers differ depending on who you ask! For some the disorder remits and some receive other follow up diagnoses, or may simply stick with CD.
Of the above mentioned criteria list, I met the bullying/threatening (1), lying (11) and stealing (12) criteria with a sort of frequency, but also showed a few cases of physical fights (2), property damage (9) and skipping school (14). I suppose if you count randomly slapping others cus I thought it was fun or goading them into injuring themselves, as evidence for physical cruelty (4) I also met that a little, but I am not sure whether it counts.
I suspect that I might qualify for childhood onset CD, as I already stole in kindergarden (age 3-6) and elementary school (age 6-10) and was also very known for being aggressive, resisting authority/being defiant, insulting others, lying if it suited me, putting others in bad situations for my own amusement and bullying a teacher of mine at that age.
I definitely presented with limited prosocial emotions and showed all four hallmarks: lack of remorse/guilt, callous lack of empathy, being unconcerned about performance (to the point of having to repeat a year) and shallow/deficient emotions.
In addition to that, there were a few other things, that were counted towards my CD diagnosis (or rather used as further evidence), namely: an overall aggressive response being my first instinct, trying to get people online to kill themselves, being very obsessed with violence overall and having frequent fantasies surrounding it, being very impulsive & reckless & irresponsible in my decision making, methodically breaking school rules, as well as having concrete plans to commit a school shooting and running an online blog promoting it and believing I was correct to do these things in all cases.
Despite having shown a lot of obvious externalized behavior and breaking a few actual laws, I have not had any contact with the police thus far! Some of the mildness of my behaviors, is due to the fact, that I gew up learning, that avoiding punishment and being sneaky and careful with the way I break rules, is more benefitial in the long run, as my brother, who was very much not careful, frequently got reprimanded/punished and served as a prime example for how I would not be able to thrive in peace if I was like him.
The individual presentation of conduct disorder will differ depending on a lot of factors and not everyone presents severely! A lot of cases are simply classed as "kids being kids", "teenagers being hormonal" or "a few bad influences causing it", thus leading to those individuals falling under the radar.
Whether or not a child acts out in a certain environment will heavily depend on: what types of acting out they know they can get away with, how desensitized they are to punishment, how capable they are of worming their way out of responsibility, how much they can control their own behavior & emotions, what they have observed their parents/friends doing, what bullies/relatives have done to them, what resources they have available, how much respect they have for certain people, etc.
The CD criteria mentions a few common behaviors, but technically any sort of crime and anything that is regularely done that causes harm to others, should count as possible evidence towards CD. Its difficult to give examples here, as the frequency, consequences and presentation over a variety of contexts are very important in addition to the nature of the behavior itself.
What does end up being evidence and whether or not you will meet criteria/will meet certain symptoms, very much depends on the psychologist you're working with, what culture you live in and whether or not your professional has a certain bias. The paper "Evidence based assessment of DSM-5 Disruptive, Impulse Control and Conduct disorders" by Jeffrey D. Burke et al. goes into those biases, differentiates the conditions and also delivers a list of assessments that can be used to diagnose them.
To give you another two possible presentations, I'll tell you about two other CD cases that I personally know! Prior to age 12 (afaik) child 1 has met the criteria points for: forcing someone into sexual activity (7), destroyed property (9), lied (11), stolen (12), stayed out at night (13), skipped school (15) at the very least (I am not aware of whether they meet the rest!). They also meet all four hallmarks of limited prosocial emotions and went into treatment around the age of 12/13 if I remember correctly. Their sister now also presents with evidence of CD primarily: staying out (13), lying (11), stealing (12), animal cruelty (5) and cruelty to people (4) + aggression outbursts at the very least. => Presentation heavily depends on the person!
When it comes to treatment/recovery, the DSM-5 mentions that remission in cases that have childhood onset is rarer than remission in adolescent onset cases, which makes sense, as the behavior is much more ingrained and a lot of important developmental moments & important relationships likely went wrong!
It is however not impossible to achieve remission before the child/teen hits adulthood, thus preventing that the child/teen meets criteria for diagnoses like personality disorders (and even in those remission can be achieved).
In order to achieve this, clinicians have to work a lot on how they treat & perceive children with CD & adjacent conditions and may benefit from coming up with measures of identifying behavioral & emotional problems earlier, in order to offer assistance before the pattern fully builds itself.
The category of "Disruptive, Impulse Control and Conduct Disorders" and related concepts also receive different kinds of criticism from both professionals and mental health communities:
• some professionals question why ASPD is the only diagnosis that requires you to meet evidence for CD, when not even every person with CD goes on to meet ASPD => thus they wonder why other conditions do not require it or why ASPD specifically does. theres at least one paper on it that discusses this!
• many people criticize that ODD can be applied to people who simply question bigoted/mean teachers, people with PDA profiles, etc. and that IED simply pathologizes the emotional expression of anger, as abnormal/inappropiate and could as an example be falsly applied to people who are actually having autistic meltdowns.
• some people do not support CD officially only being categorized by behavior and only including things that are basically criminal already (with little exception). theres people who believe impulsivity, the breaking of school rules, verbal aggression that isnt necessarily threats/bullying, explicit violent thoughts and such should be included in the criteria.
first posted on my instagram (same @)
(insta caption includes a note to pls not copy any of my behaviors or think that I am trying to set an example as to how you should behave. thats not the case. just yk...for the record, cus this is the internet)
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pinkiemachine · 10 months ago
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We need the entire El chronicles! (not in a pressurey way)
Lol! Okay, so here’s all I’ve got so far of DAWN OF SUPERMAN, to recap (full versions linked below):
SEASON ONE:
—Krpyton gets destroyed by both their collapsing sun and a massive civil war.
—Jor-El and his family try to escape Zod and his followers and head to the secret Kryptonian colony.
—Zod finds them and when Jor-El ejects his loved ones into space in escape pods, Zod opens fire, killing Zor-El and Alura, and knocking Lara, Cal, Kara, and Krypto of course. Jor-El evades capture.
—Lara and Cal land on Earth and Lara dies from an injury sustained in the blast. Cal is then left in the care of the humans John and Martha Kent.
—Clark has adoptive siblings, Micheal, Sean, Rueben, and Suzie.
—Cal’s desire to find his alien family leads him to become an investigative journalist and he moves to Metropolis in his early/mid twenties where he meets Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen.
Now, the rest of the season I haven’t fleshed out as mush as I have Season 2, but that will be fixed in months to come. For the moment, here’s the basic outline: The premier two-parter follows the events stated above, along with lots of little anecdotes of Clark’s childhood. Then, once he arrives in Metropolis, things become a bit episodic. One episode, we’ll be watching Clark try to adjust to life in the big city and become Superman for the first time, then the next, we’ll be exploring Lois or Jimmy’s characters, fighting interesting villains like Livewire or Banshee, and building up Lois and Clark’s relationship. (Side note, Martha made Clark’s suit for him. When Clark was a kid, he asked her once to make him an outfit that looked just like the ones in his family holophoto, including his family crest on the front. Naturally, Clark had outgrown that old costume, but just before he moved out, Martha surprised him with a fair well gift: a new Kryptonian-style suit.)
HOWEVER… there’s another story growing beneath the surface. Ever since Clark became Superman, he’s had eyes on him. The whole world is watching this man become the most powerful, most undefeated superhero of all time, but that’s not precisely why the government’s interested in him. They’re interested because he’s wearing the same crest as the alien woman they found twenty+ years ago. Waller is immediately on the case, and she sends out a lackey to bring Superman in for questioning. (Haven’t decided who this character is yet.) When Clark realises that the men in black suits are coming after him, he immediately gets spooked and worries for his family. If they got hurt because he was being reckless and showing his powers publicly, he’d never forgive himself. So Superman’s gotta lay low for a while. Eventually, though, Waller figures out his secret identity, but Lois winds up being the one to save Clark for just a little bit longer, threatening to run this story in the papers if they don’t leave Clark—an innocent and upstanding citizen—alone. But as soon as the two of them have a moment, Lois immediately asks what’s going on and Clark reveals that he’s Superman.
By now, Waller is getting antsy, but there’s someone else who wants to join the party. Lex Luthor. He’s been funding the research on the Kryptonian pod, and LexCorp has been reaping the rewards of learning the secrets of their advanced technology for years. He crafts a machine/suit/(need to read the comics) that can go toe-to-toe with Superman and almost beats him. Doesn’t though. Lex will remember that.
By now, Clark is sick of running and hiding. Time to take the fight to them. With help from Lois and Jimmy, he tracks down the secret base where the pod and his mother’s remains are being kept, and the final battle commences. Waller loses, Lex loses his hair, they both swear revenge, and Clark takes back what’s rightfully his. He buries what’s left of his mother on the farm, and stores the pod in the shed temporarily. It’s a triumphant yet slightly melancholy ending for our heroes, especially as Clark and his brother get a chance to really talk some things through while he’s home visiting. Then Lois gets introduced to the family, and for a moment, everything’s right with the world.
Little does Clark know, though, that there’s a probe droid on Earth, watching him, and now it’s flying back out into space to report what it’s found to its boss. Zod.
SEASON TWO
—Zod shows up, tries to manipulate Clark, but they wind up fighting instead, and Clark beats his butt off the planet. He does manage to spook General Lane, though, and now he’s dead set against Krpytonians and what they could do to the planet if they so choose.
—Anyway, now Clark knows that his father is actually alive, and there’s also a secret colony of Kryptonians out there. He decides to look for them.
—The team (plus extra members) journeys into space where they meet all sorts of new aliens, including Green Lantern, and they also cross paths with Kryptonite.
—Then they find Kara and Krypto, who lead them to the colony.
—Along the way, they also manage to track down Jor-El, and he and Clark get to have a well-deserved reunion.
—They go to the colony together, but Zod follows them. There’s a big battle, Zod gets booted to the phantom zone, his ship is destroyed, and the colony is saved.
—PSYCH, just kidding. One of the extra members of Clark’s team is military, and he has secret orders from General Lane to kill any and all new Kryptonian forces he may encounter. So, using some Kryptonite he kept hidden, he makes a bomb and blows the colony sky high.
—Clark, Kara, and Krypto are the only Kryptonians to survive.
(Clark briefly wants to set Earth on fire…)
—Then Clark discovers that, on Jor-El’s ship, his father had made many recordings and created an A.I. Version of himself for company. This is now all Clark has left of him as they fly back to Earth.
—The ship later gets parked up the Arctic, becoming Superman’s Fortress of Solitude.
—Clark’s laid low with grief, but Lois and his family are there for him now more than ever. There’s still hope for the future.
THEN comes JUSTICE LEAGUE: HEROES RISING!
At the moment, I’m still working out which stories of Superman’s will be adapted into the show, but the main idea is that every season, there will be at least one or two BIG over arching plots that center around one of the main characters and an arch foe of theirs, like OG Teen Titans. But less episodic. Or, at least… not episodic like putting a tournament episode right in the middle of the Judas Contract arc, and more so like Avatar the Last Airbender episodic, where we’re having fun, but also learning more about the world and how various aspects of it work. The first major villain(s) will have something to do Zatanna and/or Green Lantern.
Speaking of the other heroes, here’s a quick little tidbit: So, Batman’s actually the one who brings the Justice League together. It falls into one of his contingency plan models. In case of emergency, CALL EVERYONE. During his first two seasons of BATMAN: GOTHAM FILES, he’s already come across The Flash—and Wonder Woman, over the course of the first two seasons of WONDER WOMAN: HEIR TO OLYMPUS, she’s become familiar with Atlantis and their royal family. And if you remember, Clark’s already met Green Lantern (Hal Jordon). Now all that’s left is Zatanna, hence I thought a Zatanna-centric Season 1 might be a good idea. Magic is a threat the rest of the Justice League can’t easily combat on their own. But I also had a thought, like what if I combined the Zatanna villain with the GL villain—SPACE WIZARDS!!! Idk, just thinking about it. Anyway…
I sadly haven’t had a chance to write Season 3, but what I do know (for just general stuff that’s supposed to happen eventually) is that Lois and Clark do get married and have a little boy named Jonathan. Then, some time later, Clark and Kara get called away into space on urgent business, and that’s when someone new appears: Con-El, aka Conner Kent, aka Superboy. He comes crashing down to Earth in an escape pod just like Clark’s, claiming to be a member of Superman’s family. After much convincing of the Justice League, they let him stick around until Clark gets back to truly vet him. In the meantime, he slowly gains the other heroes’ trust, becomes a member of the second generation of Teen Titans (The New Teen Titans) and helps save the world. HOWEVER… turns out he’s been working for Lex Luthor this whole time! Dun dun dun! I’ll save the rest of that story for later, heheheh…
Then, of course, when Jonathan grows up, he becomes the next Superboy and joins the third generation of Teen Titans, (Ultimate Teen Titans), and has some adventures of his own. Haven’t decided what his big arc will be yet.
Would love to do a mini-series following Kara when she was lost in space. T’would be cool.
And that’s currently all I have written, story-wise, for the Kents. Personally, I don’t really see many of the other SuperFam characters to be especially relevant to the story, or interesting, so I’m probably gonna either scrap them or repurpose them, unless there’s just, like, a MASSIVE fan outcry. It’s just that the whole point is that Clark and Kara are THE LAST KRYPTONIANS. The last of their kind, that’s part of their whole story—being alone. You can only get away with new Kryptonians falling out of the sky so many times before it gets old. And Conner was lying about his origins, so I can get away with that.
Here’s some fun stuff I wrote about Krypton and Kryptonians 👇
Here’s the Fall of Krypton and the El family’s escape 👇
Here’s the next part of Clark’s Origin Story 👇
Here’s a deep dive into Lois and Clark’s relationship 👇
And here’s Season 2 in-depth 👇
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spiderwing-nightman · 10 months ago
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"with ambitions so small they could fit into a cradle"
to me, this means that all of Jor-el's ambitions were about Clark and building a better life for his son, one free of the empire. I think that's part of the crux of it because, arguably, Clark is the biggest ambition one could have, even if at the time he could fit into a cradle, because our children are our biggest ambition, but Primus Braniac could not possibly understand that because, if the goal is to create an empire, then your children will have a hard time surviving, much less having a better future, so that ambition, to Primus, makes no sense.
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kryptonbabe · 6 months ago
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⚠️ Spoilers and Speculation Warning ⚠️
I am here for the underdog house of El of renegade scientists. They don't seem to be anywhere near the prestigious family in the scientific community as they are in other stories. Apparently Lara is an engineer interested in space exploration and (it is implied) Jor-el is a geologist. So we would have a reason for them to a) figure out Krypton's tectonic instability before others and b) build a scaping pod / rocket to save their son. With their renegade status we would also have a reason for them to be disregarded by their peers. I was excited to see Lara playing a bigger role in this origin, it's a good time to be a mother in the Absolute universe (for now at least)
The preview looks promising, I can't wait for the full version
Preview from Absolute Superman #1 – out November 6, 2024, available for pre-order
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abelhatarefada · 3 months ago
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Spoilers for Absolute Superman #3
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Okay, so this issue kinda implies that the other kriptonians have escaped in the spacecraft Lara and Jor-el build (they didn't show us, so not sure yet). And because both Martha and Lara say the same thing ("sweet angel boy"), this makes us assume that Martha is, in fact, Lara. The Kent family is a disguise for House of El.
But why is Martha so old when Kal looks so young?
My guess is that the spacecraft needed pilots while the rest of the refugees (who were majoritarily farmers) were put in some kind of cryosleep. And since they were the only ones who build it and knew how to pilot, the job couldn't be done by anyone else. So they stayed awake, making sure they would arrive in a planet where they could live.
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suzukiblu · 2 years ago
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join, scent, sorry
"Wait, so you just . . . ditched Superboy? Like right after he got out of Cadmus?" Captain Marvel sputters right in the middle of a League meeting, looking startled. "Why?"
"Batman is handling the Superboy situation," Clark says as neutrally as possible, resisting the urge to grit his teeth or rub at his temples or glower over at Bruce or just–anything, just anything. He isn't Superboy's father, though, and five minutes into this nightmare he's already more than sick of people making the assumption that he should be. He didn't volunteer for anything or consent to anything or even just make a mistake; he had his DNA stolen by people who built a weapon out of it, and just because that weapon's aging process got interrupted and it therefore currently looks like a minor, Clark is supposed to . . . supposed to what, exactly? Sell out his secret identity and his family and his whole damn life to something that only knows what some deluded mad scientists and enslaved genetic experiments thought it should know?
They're not even sure if Superboy is actually a real person. If the personality that's been presented so far is anything more than programming or puppetry or . . . or who knows what, exactly.
Clark can't take that home with him. Can't introduce that to Lois or Ma and Pa or hell, even Jor-El's AI or Krypto. He just can't trust that.
Who could?
And building a weapon that just so happens to look like a kid in a lab and conveniently getting that weapon found and broken out "early", and having that weapon be so eager to join the good guys despite its origins and education and so eager for specifically his attention, so eager to learn about specifically his powers and all the best ways to use and abuse them straight from the source, to try to make specifically him feel some kind of . . . of attachment or affection towards it . . .
Well, Clark's seen much more convoluted and improbable plans from supervillains than that, frankly. They don't know if anything they've been told about Superboy is true. They don't even know if the files Cadmus let them access are accurate or unredacted. They know nothing.
But everyone else seems to think that Clark shouldn't care about that, and that it shouldn't be making him crazy to see his dead birth family's crest in blood red on the chest of a weapon who won't answer to any name but "Superboy".
.
.
.
Dubbilex is a null and doesn't ever scent anyone at all, but sometimes Rex will give him a quick little scruff of approval or Tana or Roxy will give him an affectionate pat or two, and Knockout likes to find excuses to flirt-scent him whenever they end up having a throwdown or whatever, but none of it's ever . . . it doesn't ever . . .
It's embarrassing, but Superboy doesn't–he appreciates it all, obviously, appreciates anyone thinking he's worth any kind of scenting, but it's not what he really wants. He wants something–deliberate. Purposeful.
Lasting.
He wants something heavy, and steady, and certain. Something committed.
Or Superman's attention, just for a minute or two.
He wants to belong to somebody. He's not a real person anyway; he's a thing more than anything else. And if he has to be a thing, it's not fair that he . . . that he isn't a thing that belongs to anyone.
At least, not anyone that he wants to.
Technically speaking, he's Cadmus's IP. Technically speaking, he belongs to Cadmus. There's paperwork that says he does. A lot of it. Cadmus has "custody" of him, legally speaking. He's . . .
He doesn't want that.
He hates that.
.
.
.
"It wasn't . . . it just never felt like–like the right time to tell you, that's all," Kon stutters, feeling like an idiot, and Clark looks . . .
Clark looks pained.
"You mean you never felt safe enough to tell me," he says quietly.
Kon . . . swallows.
Because–that's true, yeah. He's trusted Clark to save his literal stupid life before, but . . . but he never felt safe enough to tell him this.
That's kind of fucked up, isn't it.
"I'm sorry," Clark says, and that suddenly Kon is too bemused to do anything but stare at him. "I should've made sure you knew you could tell me things like that. I shouldn't have just assumed you would."
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jor-elsemissary · 8 days ago
Note
🗡 or in this case an arrow used as a dagger by Oliver Queen
Depending on the timeline. Lionel also not be afraid but very very tired. And you KNOW that's a bad combination.
Oliver: If I stab you will you bleed son of a.bitch
Lionel: If you stab me it probably means I'm still fired.
Jor-el joke even in the face of danger. Then again....it's Lionel
Dagger - Oliver Queen
Metropolis never sleeps. It was much like my own city or any major city for that matter. There is always someone awake doing something either legal or not. The latter was more commonly encountered in the dark recesses and hellish cesspits that no sane person would dare venture. 
Only criminals lurked in these shadows. 
Criminals and myself.
The green archer sat crouched on the ledge of a low-rise building, the sleek and contemporary architecture that was the city’s signature style was a stark contrast against his green and black leathers. Kohl lined blue eyes watched the streets below, the reflection of golden light from the nearby Daily Planet’s globe was almost like a second sun in the night. A beacon of truth and hope that stood out in the dark shadow of its looming neighbor, LuthorCorp.
He raised the tiny binoculars to his eyes and looked out across the plaza he had been watching, waiting for something to happen or someone to step out of the building.
LuthorCorp. One of the leading companies on the tech market these days despite its early history being knee deep in shit. Founded on the sweat, blood and dirt of those who toiled away to bring the company it’s first fortune, its founder, no doubt, making it literal whenever someone decided not to deal with him or deal under the table with a rival. 
I know his hands are stained with blood, even if the justice system decided that his were clean of at least his parents’ own blood. Hmph. Justice. There is no such thing these days. Men like Lionel and Lex Luthor have a terrible habit of breaking the law and blaming it on some poor sap who was in the wrong place and at the wrong time. Someone else always took the fall for their misdeeds.
Someone like my parents.
He lowered the binoculars and replaced them back on his utility belt before reaching up to grab the compound bow on his back. He knocked a special arrow, one with a rubbery and flat tip, and waited as a limousine slowly pulled up to the plaza.
Lionel Luthor. His hands are the dirtiest in his family. Murdered his parents to build his fortune on. Stole the fortunes of others and made rivals and competition disappear through a series of hostile takeovers or unfortunate accidents perpetuated by his childhood friend, Morgan Edge. He might as well be a crime boss in his own right, one who stood on the legal side of the law because he had enough money and power to make Justice truly be blind to what he was doing.
All it would take was one good arrow and he would pay for the many crimes he has committed over the decades, but it would not give me the satisfaction and peace I desire. He murdered my parents, the other Lionel Luthor had confessed to it and I took the time to make sure that it was true.
I am not a man who would just react because someone said so. Even Lionel Luthor deserves a chance to prove his innocence, however little of it he has left. So I followed the trail and took the hint the other Luthor had given me and found the truth of what had happened to my parents. The paper trail was thin, but it was there. Morgan Edge had covered his tracks well and that is perhaps why Luthor always fell back to him when he wanted someone gone.
But it was there and it led to LuthorCorp and ultimately to Lionel Luthor himself. The only problem, the only answer I could not find was why? Why did he have my parents killed? What dealing or business did my father have with LuthorCorp that he wasn’t willing to yield to its founder?
He watched as the businessman stepped into the limousine and then waited for the driver to do the same before he let loose the arrow. It sailed through the sky and with a quiet clunk, latched onto the bumper of the vehicle before the shaft fell off, leaving behind the tracking device.
Oliver watched as the car drove out into traffic before turning to the handheld now in his hand. The signal was strong and he began to follow his target, parallel on the rooftops. It didn’t matter if he failed to keep the limousine in sight. He would not lose track of his prey tonight.
I could find no reason as to why Lionel would want my parents dead. There had been no business between LuthorCorp or Queen Industries, nor any possible future business down the road. Our families were also friends and on good terms with each other. Every summer they would come together along with the Teagues and Swanns to enjoy the outdoors and discuss business and astronomy.
I know I am missing something and tonight I intend to find out what that is by directly confronting the only remaining source.
The man himself.
Lionel Luthor.
The tracker led him to another rooftop, this time in front of a luxurious apartment complex. He knew this was where Luthor lived now that the manor in Smallville had been destroyed by a fire.
Ever since the other Luthor had confessed to me what he had done, I had spent weeks hunting this man and the truth behind it all. I know for a fact that it will take him six minutes and twenty-two seconds to depart from his limousine in the underground garage and then ride the elevator up to the penthouse floor at the top. Another half-minute to find his keys and unlock the main door, longer if he has been drinking.
It would be twenty-six minutes and two seconds before he would make his way from the door to his study then to his bedroom and finally retire in the living room where he will enjoy himself a glass of brandy, classical music and either a book or business papers. 
It is in the living room where I intend to ambush him. But first I need to get to the roof of the building undetected and before he reaches the penthouse. 
He reaches into his quiver and removes another arrow, this one with a much wider head that has claws in a closed position. He connects it to a rope and then knocks the grapple arrow and lets it loose, watching as it soars through the air and lands on the rooftop of the other building. It catches on a safety rail and the coil of rope becomes taut.
Oliver pulls it tighter and attaches his end to a pipe before he takes his bow and uses the motors to zip line up to the roof. 
Sneaking into a building has never been a problem for me. It's once inside that things become more difficult. Patrols and security cameras, and whatever other measures of security I would need to be cautious for. But this apartment complex wasn’t LuthorCorp and although I’m sure Luthor had spent a decent amount of money to secure his penthouse, there would always be a weak point in its security.
A weak point that was the sunroof over the private pool.
Cutting into the glass without tripping the seismic sensors would be child’s play. The things couldn’t tell the difference between a pigeon landing to preen and someone maliciously cutting into the glass. It was always a waste of money and something I have tried to tell my own security not to bother in investing. If I can bypass it, so can someone else just as clever.
The Green Arrow stood over the sunroof, looking down into the pool room and at the illuminated waters of the pool itself. It was an Olympic size pool for a man with an Olympian size ego. Kneeling down he takes out a pen-sized tool and begins cutting into the glass with a laser a sizable hole large enough for his hand and arm to reach through. The glass pane falls through but he manages to catch it before it could land in the water below and alert the guard making his round through the area.
I check my watch and see that I have one minute to get this latch unlocked before Luthor steps onto his floor from the elevator. I want to be inside observing him while he goes through his nightly rituals. It will also give me the chance to take care of his security before he realizes that he’s missing them.
The latch is easy to pick and rerouting the security wire was equally problematic. I watch as the security guard makes his way past me before raising the hatch and lowering myself into the room. 
The pulley was silent as it lowered him into the pool room and the smaller crossbow made only a quiet twang as it shot out a grapple rope to help pull him over to the edge. The sounds he made had been no louder than the fountain that spilled into the pool from the far end. He sends the rope back up to the roof and silently crouches on the deck.
The guard is unaware of my presence and I wait until he makes his report that all was well in the pool room before I strike. The blow to the back of the head was more than enough to cave in the man’s skull if I had chosen to strike at the pressure point that would have been fatal. He went down like a sack of potatoes and dragged his unconscious body to hide him behind the water fountain.
When the others realized he was missing, they won’t find him right away. But I do not plan on letting any of them realize he’s missing until it was too late for Luthor.
Carefully I make my way to the door and quietly open it to check down the hall. There was no one but if my source was correct, there would be a patrol down this hall in five minutes. By now Luthor will be in the penthouse and beginning his habitual ritual in winding down from a long day in the office. I have less than twenty-six minutes to neutralize his entire security force without alerting them or him of my presence.
I patiently wait for the patrol down the hall and when the man comes, he does not know what had struck him. He will be sleeping with his partner behind the fountain. Moving on, I follow the mental map I have of the penthouse and where each of his security was going to be.
I can hear him when I reach the common area of the penthouse. He’s talking to someone on the phone. I cannot tell who it was but it is a change in his routine that I do not like. I do not know if it will cause him to forego some of his habits or speed them up, or change them entirely.
With a frown, he risks taking a peek through a door to see where Lionel Luthor was and spots him just outside of his study with a cellphone to his ear and a briefcase in hand. He hadn’t gone inside yet, but whoever he was talking to, they had his attention.
It would be so easy to knock and loose an arrow into him right now. He would never know of the threat until it struck him in the heart. But whoever it was that he was talking to, he seemed rather happy in speaking to them. I know he isn't talking to his son. He and Lex have been at odds with each other ever since the man had fallen out of his own office years ago. Clark was the only one who seemed to know the truth of what had happened considering he had saved the man from certain death.
It really didn’t matter to me why or who had tried to kill him. It just meant that I now get the chance to avenge my parents and make this man pay for his crimes. But it concerned me that there was someone he was actually eager to have a pleasant conversation with. I decided to listen for a minute to see if I could figure out who would make this man feel anything other than malicious and ruthless cruelty.
”… glad that you were able to convince the committee members to see things your way,” Luthor gave a quiet chuckle. “No, no. Don’t undersell yourself, my dear. You are a force to reckon with on the Hill and they all are beginning to realize how much of a threat or a boon you can be.”
The Hill? Committee? There was only one person I know that Lionel would be speaking to who had anything to do with politics and my blood boiled at the idea of Luthor getting his filthy hands on her. Martha Kent did not deserve to be corrupted or touched by this man. 
This revelation changes everything. 
I had heard rumors of Senator Kent and Luthor. Rumors I did not like and I know Clark liked even less. If they were true—and by the sounds of it they were—Luthor was going to be on the phone for a lot longer than I anticipated him to be. All I could do now was continue with my plan and hope he hangs up soon.
I make my way through the rest of the penthouse in search of the last security guard. A young man who should have been giving Luthor his money’s worth by monitoring the cameras that his job description required. Instead he was enjoying a takeout of ramen and watching a football match between Germany and China. Had he done his job, he would have noticed the guards missing at the very least.
Taking him out was easy, so engrossed with the game that he hadn’t heard the door open. Once he was incapacitated and safely tied up against a cabinet, I sat down at the desk and started going through the cameras.
I found Luthor in his study still talking on the phone with the Senator. He had poured himself a drink and sat down at the desk near the fireplace. He was relaxed and I could see that he was enjoying the conversation with Clark’s mother. 
What she saw in him to even consider being acquainted with him, I did not know. I once thought maybe she had been using him for political gain or had been a puppet of his to get him back into the political circle after his acquittal. I had quickly learned she wasn’t corrupt and that she was a genuinely honest person. But that had been before she became a U.S. Senator.
Now though? Who knows what the influence of Congress has done to her? Who knows how much control Luthor really had over the woman. It angered me to think about him using her for his own gain. I decided that not only would I avenge my parents, but I would also free Martha Kent of Lionel Luthor’s influence. 
I left the security room to make my final preparations. I doubted that the man was going to leave his study any time soon which put a wrench in my plan for him. The confrontation was going to have to be in the study before the guards awoke or someone like Tess showed up.
I can hear him beyond the door, his laughter is loud as he found whatever Senator Kent had said amusing. The hard part would be getting the phone away from him, both to keep him from calling for help and to keep the Senator from hearing what I plan on doing to him. Even though I dislike the idea of them being friends, he was her friend and the Senator is loyal to her friends. She didn’t deserve to hear him suffer and die over the phone.
Entering the study silently was a lot easier than I had anticipated. The man had turned on his sound system and was playing a gentle piano sonata. It wasn’t loud enough to drown out his conversation with the Senator, but it was just enough to hide the click of the door’s lock. The last thing I had seen on the monitor was Luthor’s back to the door, so I had nothing to worry about him seeing the door open on its own.
He was oblivious to the intrusion, so enraptured by the Senator he was. It would be so easy to approach and kill him, but there would be no satisfaction in a quick death. The man didn’t deserve a painless and quick one. My parents certainly hadn’t been given that luxury when their plane went down and crashed into the mountains. It also would not give me the answers I was seeking.
He was the sole person that knew why my parents had to die and he would tell me before I killed him.
Quietly he drew his bow and knocked a normal arrow. The Green Arrow was renowned for his accuracy, one of the reasons why he was often compared to Robin Hood. Besides his tendency to rob the rich and give back to those they had stolen from, he could split his own arrow as easily as breathing. 
The arrow flew across the room and Luthor cried out in surprise and in pain as the point struck his phone and pinned it to the mantle of the fireplace in front of him. He scrambled to his feet in surprise and then shock as he realized who had attacked him.
”Mister Queen!” Luthor exclaimed with hands held up in peace, the one that had held the phone bleeding from where the feathers had sliced him. “What is the meaning of this?”
The bastard had the gall to look unafraid by the fact that he was being held at arrow point by a vengeful archer. It was no surprise really that he would keep his dignity in face of danger or being murdered. The man was too proud to do anything less.
”You know why I am here,” the archer growled out and stepped further into the study. His bow followed Luthor as the man tried to move away from the desk. 
“Whatever it is you think I may have stolen or done,” Luthor began but he was cut short as the arrow was let loose and struck him in the shoulder. He screamed from the shock and pain, collapsing to a knee as his other hand gripped at the shaft buried deep into his left shoulder. “Oliver…” he gasped and looked up at the archer. “Please, don’t do this.”
”Begging is beneath you, Lionel,” Oliver tells him as he approaches. He was already knocking another arrow and aiming. “But before I am done, you will be begging for death.”
”Oliver…”
”Shut it! I want answers and I want them now,” the young man demanded. “Why did you kill my parents?!”
I should have let loose the arrow and finished him off. The look of surprise and regret that flitted across his face was more than enough confirmation that he had done it. I hadn’t expected the regret though. I had imagined him to be as sinister and conniving as his doppleganger from the other reality. I had expected him to boast about his misdeed and tell me how much of a fool I had been.
I didn’t expect him to be actually remorseful in what he had done.
”Telling you the truth won’t change your mind in killing me,” Luthor acknowledged, a wince of pain as it shot up from his shoulder broke his stoic expression. “The truth won’t be something as simple as a failed hostile takeover or a business deal gone wrong. It would be simpler if it had been just that.”
”I don’t want your lies, Lionel.” He lowered the bow and let the second arrow go. It struck the man in the thigh and he howled in pain while doubling over and onto his side. “I want the truth!”
”That’s what I am trying to tell you!” Lionel shouted angrily, his voice strained from the pain.
There. There is the fear I wanted to see in his eyes. He’s afraid now. He knows I will kill him and I know him well enough that he will try and delay it for as long as possible. 
“Talk or the next one is the other leg,” he warned even as he pulled back on the bowstring.
”Robert,” Lionel desperately gets out between pained breaths. “Robert was the target, your mother was just collateral. She wasn’t supposed to be on that flight!” He screamed again as the third arrow became embedded in his other thigh. “Stooop! Please!”
”Why did you want my father dead then!” Oliver snarled as a fourth arrow was knocked. “Answer me or this one goes through your heart!”
I had no intention of ending him right then and there. I would still aim for the area, pretend that I missed but it would get the message across that I will kill him if he doesn’t give me my answers!
”The pendant!” Lionel cried out. “I needed his pendant!”
Pendant? What pendant? My father didn’t… Wait no, he did have a pendant. A golden locket he kept on himself. I had seen it a couple times while he was getting dressed for work. What was so important about some keepsake that Lionel Luthor was willing to kill my father for? I asked him as much.
”It was a key to a lockbox in Zurich.” I could see him struggling to stay conscious. He didn’t have much time before he passed out from blood loss. “It involved the Traveler.”
The Traveler? But that was just some fable our parents talked about sometime when they came together every summer. Surely Luthor didn’t actually believe in that nonsense? Surely he hadn’t killed my parents over a fairytale?
I wanted to let loose the last arrow but to do so now would leave me with more questions than answers.
”The Traveler is just a story!” he snarled. His arm strained with holding the drawstring back. 
“The Traveler is Clark!” Lionel flinched from imaginary pain as the arrow was accidently let go and the point embedded itself into the expensive Persian rug next to his head. “I was power hungry back then! I wanted Clark to myself and I was willing to kill for it.”
I believe him. It was so atypical of the man. So desperate was he to find and obtain power and wealth, that he would believe in a story about a spaceman coming to Earth to save us all from the apocalypse. That he would be willing to murder and tear apart whole families just so he could get a taste of the power the spaceman offered. 
My parents died because this man was too greedy and didn’t know when enough was enough. I could feel the rage building inside of me. I wanted him to suffer some more before he died. I wanted to tear him limb from limb, stab him over and over again with an arrow so he would know my rage and my pain for what he had done.
I grew up without my parents. I grew up no longer knowing what their love felt like. I had a score of birthdays and Christmas without them. Every important moment in my life was missing their presence. I donned the mask and the bow in memory of them, to avenge their deaths one day and do something good with myself because I thought they would be proud of me for doing so.
They died because Lionel Luthor wanted power.
Something in me snapped. The rage finally released and I could see myself kicking the billionaire repeatedly. I refused to listen to his pleas for me to stop, his begging for mercy. All I could feel was the rage and the desire to make him feel my pain.
I screamed out my rage and he had stopped begging for my mercy. His whimpers of pain only made me ever more angrier. I wanted him to beg, I wanted him to plead for his life. I wanted to hear him scream as he died by my hand. Not this quiet refusal to give in and to take the beating I was giving him.
Something, all of a sudden, stopped me and I found myself sprawled across the room. By the time I gathered my wits enough to look up at what had struck me, my assailant was standing over me.
”Clark,” he breathed his friend’s name in wary surprise. Oliver scowled behind the mask he wore, clearly displeased at being interrupted. He cast his gaze past the superman at the prone Lionel. The man was still alive and groaning in miserable pain, but he dared not move any more than he had to. “Don’t interfere, damnit!”
”Ollie,” the farmboy spoke his name with a sadness he hadn’t been expecting. He can stand there looking righteous and just all he wants. I don’t want his pity. The bastard had to die and I wasn’t going to let this alien get in my way. “This isn’t the way to settle this.”
”He murdered my parents,” the Green Arrow snarled as he slowly started to get up. 
“Then let him be tried for it,” Clark tried to reason with his friend.
A trial would never find him guilty. The paper trail I had found was paper thin and if he can get acquitted for his own parents’ murder, then he would find a way out of mine. No. Lionel Luthor had to die now if I was to ever get justice for my parents.
“You know that won’t stick,” he argued while slowly reaching behind him for the special container he kept on his utility belt. “I won’t let him escape justice. Bad enough he’s managed to avoid it for this long.”
”Your parents wouldn't want you to do it this way.” 
What did he know what my parents wanted? Even I am not certain they would have condoned this. How could I? I was nine when my parents died. I lived my entire childhood without them. I only remember their love and the faces frozen in time through pictures of them. I did not know my father’s personality or the interests of my mother. Whatever advice they would have had for me came in the form of potential advice from my caretakers as they knew my parents.
”I don’t care,” Oliver popped open the canister he had grabbed and exposed the kryptonian to its contents. Immediately Clark doubled over and started to back away from the Green Arrow. “I want him dead. I want justice.”
”You want revenge,” Clark groaned, moving to try and keep his distance from the meteor rock that was clearly in the canister. 
“Revenge, justice,” the archer scoffed with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter in the end. My parents will be avenged one way or another and this way guarantees it.”
”Robert and Laura would not want you to become a murderer,” Lionel weakly spoke, his eyes half-lidded from the pain and exhaustion of the beating. 
“Don’t you dare claim you know what my parents would have wanted!” Oliver shouted and dropped the canister to the floor as he swiftly approached Luthor. He grabbed the man by his mane and pulled him up. Lionel cried out and tried his best to support his own body as he was manhandled into a sitting position. “You don’t know them!”
”But I do!” He took a rattling breath before continuing, “We spent years together on the belief that we would herald in the beginning of a new era for mankind with the Traveler. Robert wanted to protect the boy and he was willing to put the full weight of Queen Industries behind that belief. The very boy you are hurting right now.”
Leave it to Lionel to find a way to make me question what I am doing. Damn him for actually knowing my father. If I hadn’t read his journals to figure out why this man would want to murder him, I would not have believed him. There had been entries discussing how his company could help the Traveler find his destiny. My father was as fanatical about believing in the Traveler as Lionel Luthor had been in wanting to control him.
I let him go in disgust and took satisfaction in his quiet whimpers. I wanted to kill him but being forced into conversation with Clark and the target of my rage, had caused my temper to cool to a simmer. I gave him one more swift kick to the ribs before walking back to pick up the canister and spare Clark further pain.
”Thank you,” the farm boy said as he slowly straightened now that he wasn’t being irradiated by his homeworld. “Lionel should face trial for what happened.”
”It wouldn’t give me what I wanted,” Oliver reluctantly yielded. No, a trial would not put him behind bars. The prosecution would not take it to court without anything solid. I should have brought a recorder to get his confession out of him. Maybe then he would receive a conviction that could stick this time.
Clark looked over at the billionaire, “No, but he has the right to face his accusers in the court of law. If we are going to help those in need and bring justice for the wronged, we cannot take things into our hands. We have to trust the system and provide everything that is needed to get the convictions we seek.”
”Truth, justice and the American way?” Oliver pursed his lips at the words. His mother’s words. Words to live by. Words that Clark has taken seriously as Superman. Words that my parents would have agreed with. He turns to reach down for the bow that had been knocked out of his hands and he can see Clark tensing and Lionel grimacing in fear. Let the man tremble in fear of me. I may not get what I wanted tonight, but he’ll live to wonder when I am going to send the law after him.
”Fine, we’ll do it your way, Clark,” he sheathed the bow onto his back and stepped over to the murderer. “As for you, try and skip the country and I’ll finish off what I started. You will have your day in court, but on my terms. When that day comes, Lionel, I will have the evidence I need to put you behind bars for the rest of your miserable life.”
”Noted,” Lionel hoarsely replied and then tried to scramble away from the Green Arrow. Oliver reached down and grabbed the arrows by the shaft and pulled, taking satisfaction in the man’s screams.
”Oliver!” Clark hurried over as the last arrow was removed from his shoulder. 
“I want my arrows back.” Oliver glared, daring him to do something about it. He won’t. Clark will be more concerned in getting Lionel to a hospital than to reprimand me for torturing the man some more. I might get an ear full later, but I don’t care. I didn’t get my justice tonight and the Justice League can go fuck it self.
He walked out of the study and didn’t look back when Clark knelt down beside a passed out Luthor. He didn’t wait to see when Superman took the billionaire and flew him off toward Metropolis General. He didn’t wait for the security guards to wake up and realize that their boss was missing and injured.
I will have my justice though. If Clark won’t help me get it, then perhaps Batman will. The man is a better detective than I and I’m sure he could find the evidence I need to get a conviction.
Bruce would understand.
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the-ellia-west · 18 days ago
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*Referencing the Fantasy Alcohols post*
This is going to make my villains so much cooler, give them weird fun drinks to play around with
I can totally imagine Khenan owning like the classiest thing known to man and he thinks it's disgusting but Vimadè bought it for him, knowing full well he hated it and bc rules of hospitality he has to drink at least a little bit of it and can't throw it out.
Reminds me of the glitter vodka actually
But anyway.
YOU TWO
*grins deviously at Jak & Fye*
WILL SUFFER
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sparkoflena · 17 days ago
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An elaboration on my Kryptonians & Pain Tolerance post
(TLDR: DC doesn't care that much about any character but what we do know aligns with the need to question Kryptonian invulnerability)
- When I (and others) mention Kryptonian pain tolerance, I am not asking about the big things. I am asking about the inconvenience of pain (like how some people can still function with cramps like it's nothing or how working out is generally considered "good pain"). Pain tolerance beyond Almost Down For The Count versus Ooo That Bullet Felt Like A Tiny Pinch is generally the question there. Basically: Pain tolerance is a spectrum and I refuse to believe it being all or nothing just because the character happens to be an alien. (Obviously, this is stated as an exaggeration because it is touched upon in the comics but not far enough for a solid answer)
- Most Important Point: The joke "DC means Disregard Canon" is most often referencing the fact that there is limited consistency in DC comics.
- Superman's lack of consistency IS with his pain tolerance. He has some comics where a nuclear bomb doesn't even scratch him (...Kingdom Come?? I'm fairly certain that's the right series/run but I don't feel like looking it up right now. If somebody pulls the "that's an alternate universe" on me I am going to scream because Alternate Universe ≠ Different Powerset unless otherwise stated) and some comics where a nuclear bomb heavily weakens him (New 52)
- Furthermore via bomb: Clark has (in a show) swallowed a nuclear bomb to contain an explosion. Conner once ate the chemicals to create a nuclear explosion in his stomach and is basically a dragon spouting fire for the rest of the comic. Different characters (half human versus full alien) but still relevant because they are not explained.
- Kal-El describes what he feels as "pressure" rather than pain. Whether it's akin to getting hit with a pillow or being slapped across the face is unclear, but the point is that HE wouldn't know the difference. This is mostly the depiction that I personally imagine unless the writer tells me otherwise (which many do not bother to do)
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- Most Kryptonians are described as having so much extra energy shoved into each cell that it creates the ("basically") impenetrable barrier. This also goes the other way in many comics - mostly in Kon-El's, where he uses tactile telekinesis often - because an overuse of that energy is also weakening but is easily replenished via breaks and the power of the (yellow) sun. Which means their biggest enemies aren't even necessarily their big enemies (like Lex Luthor) but each other (ie Superboy versus Superboy Prime).
- Obviously there are plenty of Kryptonian weaknesses from the various versions of Kryptonite to Red Solar Radiation to Extreme Pressure to Magic to Mind Control etc etc etc. The Phantom Zone once eliminated Jor-El's powers - while not quite used as a weakness in the comics - is still possibly relevant if ever remembered. There would obviously be no story if these characters were 100% invulnerable. My point is that it applies differently enough that it would be fascinating to study.
- Being said, even Kryptonite isn't consistent across stories either. In Silver Age comics, Clark exposes himself to Kryptonite over time to develop a (small) immunity. Whereas in All Star Superman he goes "I guess I've just discovered I'm immune now" which is yada yadaed away because he's reaching his end of days anyway. Kon-El once met a double cloned version of himself and that character had different vulnerability to Kryptonite than he did.
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- Bonus is that Kryptonians are thrown against buildings all of the freaking time (...what are the insurance rates on buildings in Metropolis? National City? These are the real questions here). Which means they can be shoved by non-Kryptonite means. Most of the time, it doesn't seem to hurt. Does it feel like being shoved into a softer bed or against a firm wall? Do they get a minor headache from this? Do they go "Oh great a breather moment" ??
- And unimportant to the silliness of the original post but still relevant - Kon-El did have a time prior to his full powers kicking in where he was weaker to everything than his other Kryptonian counterparts. This is in large part due to the half-human in him (meaning it also applies to Jon-El), which would apply differently than a full Kryptonian like Clark or Kara (which is mentioned within the post). Which, honestly, is more fascinating to study. I, however, cannot science my way through characters because they are unfortunately fictional. So I must make the sciencey characters do it for me via humorous Tumblr posts haha
- Lastly: It is not a criticism of Kryptonian heroes to question their pain tolerance (especially because there is no real answer given that it changes between authors). If I wanted a superhero who hurt when getting punched, then I would go to one of the many human heroes. The fascination with Superman as a hero is that he is an alien with humanity. I expect Kryptonians to be different and they are. I am aware that there are weaknesses, especially beyond kryptonite. As there is never truly a human versus Kryptonian pain comparison given in the comics, we will never truly know the pain tolerance of Kryptonians versus their human hero allies. That is fine. Being a superhero fan is in all fun anyway
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the-fyre-flie · 1 month ago
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Robin!Bruce Wayne and Superboy!Kal El au... yes, I'm gunna keep writing about it. You can find other posts about it on my pinned!!
Bruce and Kal being at the Watchtower for a few hours while their dad's discuss current events, featuring other Reverse AU characters hehe. Also... yes I know it's weird Superman and Batman are the fathers while Flash and Green Arrow are the kid sidekicks, I don't care, I think they're all cute and deserve interactions.
ALSO THIS IS INCREDIBLY LONG PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I SHOULD JUST MAKE AN AO3!!!!!
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"Why did you drag me along? Isn't this a routine visit?" Bruce huffed as he adjusted his Robin costume, tugging at the cape that had gotten tangled during the sudden teleport up into the Watchtower. Ahead of him, Alfred, in his Batman costume, was already putting on that grim, mysterious Batman persona he only really used with his coworkers in the Justice League. It was such a stark contrast to the warm fatherly figure Alfred had been towards Bruce his entire life.
"Yes, it is routine. However, I decided it was time you actually joined me during these visits. The Justice League are our allies, and it is beneficial to have a positive relationship with other members." Alfreds tone was calm, like this was a lecture any young boy got. As they approached the main hall, Bruce was also adjusting his attitude, furrowing his brow slightly and donning a scowl. If Alfred got to be scary as Batman, he would get to be at the very least intimidating as Robin.
Entering the large meeting room, Bruce was greeted with the sight of a few different members of the Justice League and... their sidekicks? Was this just a poorly disguised excuse for all the heros to force their sidekicks to meet each other? Bruce's scowl shifted from an act to a genuine look of mild annoyance.
Superman, Jor El, and his son Superboy, Kal El, both got up from their seats when they saw Alfred and Bruce, each super immediately heading over to greet them. While Alfred and Jor spoke like old friends catching up (which they were), Bruce and Kals current relationship was too rocky for them not to speak akwardly. It was obvious that Jor has chewed out Kal for not being kinder to Bruce last time, as Kal immediately stuck out his hand in an attempt at apology.
"You fought well against the Joker a week ago. Thanks for helping in Smallville." He mumbled a bit as he spoke, his dark curly hair catching the light in a way that made it shine blueish. Being an alien, Kal had a lot of fairly unnatural features about him that you could only really notice if you spent hours researching Kyrptonians. Electric blue eyes, blueish hair, a naturally large build for a teen. It almost made Bruce envy him. Almost.
Bruce refused the handshake, arms crossed, but he did nod. It wasn't in his best interest to cause a scene or argument again. Last time, he was sat down for 3 hours and told how stupid and reckless it was to not only take on the Joker alone but to argue with a Kryptonian.
"You weren't an awful partner in the fight." Bruce got out, and Kal seemed to relax slightly. Getting the biggest hardass in the world ever, Robin, to admit he didn't hate you, was a good start. From behind Kal, a few of the other sidekicks were being pushed in their directions while their mentors engaged in the 'Grown Up Talk'.
Green Arrow, Roy Harper, sent over his sidekick, Oliver Queen AKA Speedy. Oliver was the only person who knew Bruce from before either of them became vigilante heros. They were currently attending the same private school, sharing a few classes. When each of them became sidekicks, they almost immediately recognized each other, throwing off the whole 'don't tell people your secret identity' thing.
"So, the Bat brought you too. Unlucky me. I gotta look at your ugly mug all day now." Oliver smirked under his mask, teasing Bruce, the quiver on his back rattling slightly as he moved. He placed a hand on his hip as he peered at Robin and Superboy, his own bright red costume fitting in perfectly with their equally bright blues, greens, and yellows.
Bruce couldn't help but smile ever so slightly back. Oliver was also the only sidekick he actually liked rather than just tolerated.
"Robinhood brought his merry men, I see. Off to go pilfer something and annoy everyone while you do it?" Bruce quipped back, Oliver feigning offense with a hand over his heart as he gasped.
"Rude. No wonder you have no hero friends." Oliver shook his head, playing up his disappointment, only to lightly slug Bruce in the arm. "I missed you, dude."
"We were in class together less than 8 hours ago." Bruce rubbed his arm, smiling as he punched Oliver back. Next to their respective mentors, they were some of the only non meta, non alien, non mythical god-like beings associated with the Justice League, and their physical abilities more or less matched.
"Time away from you is hellish~" Oliver mocked, adjusting his quiver again. The various arrows shifted when he moved it, chattering against each other.
As the pair spoke, Kal butted in, having begun floating cross-legged to keep himself focused.
"Why did all our heros bring us along? I have homework I gotta do..." He groaned, only for him to be interrupted by a flash of yellow.
"You guys have homework? I finished mine in class. Cuz I'm on top of things. Unlike you guys." Barry Allen, Kid Flash, grinned as he came to a sudden stop in front of the group, his goggles crooked on his face. Across the room, his mentor Wally West, Flash, was talking very animatedly with the reast of the Justice League.
"Only Superboy has homework. I also finished mine." As Bruce spoke, he nudged Oliver in the side. He had gotten distracted by trying to lip read the Justice League, squinting under his mask. "Huh? Oh yeah. I did mine, too. Do you guys know what 'Test Run' the JL was planning to do today?"
As Oliver spoke, the entire Watchtower rattled, the pitch shifting hard to the right, throwing everyone off balance except Kal, who floated far enough above the ground to grab Barry's arm before he slammed into the observation window like everyone else. Bruce and Oliver were a tangle of limbs as furniture joined them against the glass, a large crack audible.
"What the hell! What's going on?" Oliver shouted as he moved away from a table sliding directly towards him, Bruce quick to follow, vaulting over a chair.
"Where's the Justice League?" Barry shot a glance across the hall, where the Justice League had once been but no longer were. Somehow, in the split second the teens looked away, they were gone. As Kal placed Barry down, the speedster struggled to balance himself on the heavily tilted floor. The Watchtower groaned again, a distant explosion audible.
"We don't have time to worry about the JL. We have to stabilize the Watchtower before it moves far enough to fall into the Earth." Bruce pointed down a hall to where he knew the controls were located. Immediately, the group moved to follow his finger, only to be stopped. "No. We split up. Something is attacking the Watchtower. KF, with me. Superboy and Speedy, stick together and figure out where the problem is."
"Sure thing, wonder boy. Leave it to us." Oliver smirked before jogging off down an opposite hall, Kal rushing to fly after him. As they left, the Watchtower once again shook.
"Let's figure this out." Bruce grunted as he steadied himself against one of the walls, moving as quickly as he could towards the controls. Barry moved ahead, waiting at the end of the hall for Bruce, hands on his hips.
"What if we find what's messing with this place?" He asked, helping Bruce pry open the doors.
"If we find it, we fight it. Duh." Bruce rolled his eyes. With a loud creak, they slipped into the large domed room, Bruce immediately running to a particular panel and pulling a small device from his utility belt. As he plugged it in, the screens above them lit up with his emblem for a split second before displaying about a million lines of code rapidly scrolling. Barry kept watch of the door and hall, bracing himself as the entire structure felt increasingly more unstable.
"Something took over the controls. It's like... seeping into everything. The lights will probably-" Before Bruce could finish his sentence, the lights shut off, leaving them in the dark. The blue light from his small hand held device kept his face illuminated as he stood straight. "-go out. Damn it. The whole things shutting down. We need to get to Superboy and see if he could hold this up." Behind him, the Earth was very slowly getting closer.
"Sure thing. Let's find the boyscout and robinhood." Barry disappeared for a split second, leaving behind a blurry afterimage, only to immediately return, his suit slightly burnt around his ribs. His eyes were wide, worry written acorss his face. "I found em."
Skidding to a halt, Bruce was greeted with a large fire in the middle of the hall, Kal fist fighting a giant space tentacle while Barry was helping Oliver away from the flames.
"What the fuck is that?" Barry asked, supporting Oliver while the archer limped out of the path of rampage. Kal grunted as he was knocked from the air, shouting over the sound of metal losing its stability due to the fire, the screech and whine of shifting plates of steel almost deafening. "I have no idea! This thing is massive! I can't even see all of it!"
"Speedy, do you have any of those weird fast hardening expanding foam arrows?" Bruce called out as he threw a few batarangs at the beast, manging to slice off one of the larger tendrils that threatened to grab Kal. As the limb fell into the fire, another quickly replaced it.
"Yeah, hold on." Oliver wheezed slightly as he drew an arrow, lining up his shot. "The creature or the fire?"
"The fire. We gotta prevent any more damage. Superboy, can you stabilize the Watchtower back into orbit?" Bruce ducked as whatever was attacking them swiped at him, just barely missing him. He was suddenly very grateful that Alfred had signed him up for gymnastics instead of football.
"Sure. Can you guys handle this... thing, tho?" Kal floated backwards out of the range of the space monster thing. None of them had any idea what it was, what it was doing, what it wanted, if it took the Justice League... and honestly? It was a little scary. Of course, none of the boys would admit that.
"Yeah, we got it." Oliver let his arrow fly as Kal got out of the way, a large explosion of reddish foam filling the hall and quickly suffocating the fire and blocking off the beast. They were running in borrowed time, however. Snake like tentacles were already worming their way through the cracks, attempting to shatter the now tough-as-rock foam. "Robin, any of those ice pellets? The more of a barrier we put up the most occupied it'll be."
"On it." Bruce pulled a few small orbs from his belt, immediately lobbing them at the foam wall, watching as ice overtook the foam and froze what small tendrils had gotten through. Barry was still working to support Oliver as they backed away, Kal having disappeared out of a bay door to do what he could to stop the Watchtowers fall. The Watchtower itself was a breaking, burning, creaking mess, the floor no longer at an acceptable tilt to stand on, forcing them to stand on what used to be the wall. Without the lights or fire, the hall was dark, leaving the 3 young sidekicks in the shadows.
"So... now what?" Barry asked. Oliver had pushed him away, insisting he was fine, and Barry had moved to check every door under their feet. He was almost obsessively opening and closing them, searching for the Justice League like they were just hiding to jump out and yell 'surprise!'. "Can you find like... a heat signature or something? Trace them?"
"I've already tried. Nothing. We're completely alone up here." Bruce gritted his teeth as he led the 3 of them back to the control room, peering out of the window where Kal was struggling to hold up the Watchtower by himself. With a wave, Bruce called him back inside, Kals face falling.
"I can't keep it from falling... I'm not strong enough." Kal spoke softly, his brow furrowed. "If Superman was here-"
"Don't focus on that." Bruce snapped, holding his device close to his face as he typed and fidgeted on it. He was trying to send out a distress signal to anyone who could receive it, but it was like they were completely cut off from the universe. He was quiet for a long moment, the light of the sun dimmed heavily by the massive blue marble that was their home. They were facing the dark side, with dotted lights of cities and towns twinkling like stars. Stars they were now quickly approaching.
"Barry, go find the space walk gear. I have an idea." Bruce suddenly lit up as the ocean came into view.
Bruce adjusted the helmet over his face as he and Oliver suited up, Kal standing at the ready by the bay door. Barry was stationed in the control room, giving them updates on how much time they had left before they crash-landed into the American east coast.
"You have like 5 minutes, guys. Work faster." Barry's voice crackled over the team communication system, his knuckles white against the panel.
"You can't rush perfection." Oliver's smile was obvious as he made his way through space to the side of the Watchtower, Kal keeping guard while he rammed almost a dozen wired arrows into the hull of the space station. Pushing away from the final arrow, he quickly handed the bundle of wires to Kal before joining Bruce utop the structure itself.
"Superboy! Pull! Towards the ocean!" Bruce called over the comms, readying himself for a new fight as the giant space monster finally noticed them and was beginning to approach. Immediately, Kal was flying as hard as he could to the left, grunting as he pulled on the wired arrows. The plan was to redirect the fall into the ocean and avoid hitting anything civilian. It wasn't the best plan, but it was their only plan.
"Robin! Watch out!"
Bruce had been distracted by the sight of all of them careening towards his home, Gotham visible along the coastline. Pulled from his thoughts, he looked up to see a tentacle heading straight towards his face. The huge limb just barely managed to pin his legs, pain shooting through his body as he was trapped under slimey awful octopus like flesh. Before he could move to grab a utility knife from his belt, an arrow sliced through the limb, landing with a ka-chunk next to his head. When the tentacle was severed, it curled up on itself, allowing Robin to kick it off.
"Thanks." He mumbled as he stood, making sure his space gear wasn't damaged as he readied himself to protect Kal from the beast.
"Don't sweat it." Oliver notched another arrow, aiming for what seemed to be the face of the monstrosity. A few dozen eyes, a huge gaping jaw with razor-sharp teeth, the thing looked like it could eat a country if it wanted to. It looked nothing like any of them had ever seen before. And it very much wanted to kill them all. As the arrow flew, it stuck one of the eyes, causing the thing to scream.
"Fellas, can we maybe hurry up perfection? 3 minutes left, and we're still headed directly towards New Jersey." Barry spoke through the comms again, sounding genuinly distressed. This was basically their first time alone away from their heros and mentors, and they were so closing to fucking it all up and killing an entire state.
"I can't really pull any harder." Kals voice was strained, the wires visibly pulled to their extreme as he tried to streer the falling hunk of debris that the Watchtower had become. "That thing is weighing us down."
"We're trying to get rid of it." Bruce spoke, throwing a few explosion pellets to try and knock the thing off. It seemed to work slighly, the ship being pulled closer towards the ocean.
Oliver and Bruce were practically spamming the monster with attacks. Only when a large tentacle grabbed Oliver by the leg, hoisting him into space, did either of them stop. His arrows spilled from his quiver, floating in space around him as he was flailed around.
"Speedy!" Bruce yelled, scrambling across the hull of the Watchtower, an explosion rocking the buildings and sending him flying directly off the Watchtower. They were close to the earth, the gravity of the planet beginning to pull them all down to the surface. Shit. Bruce was falling to earth. His grapple gun had been knocked away from him, floating uselessly in space broken. Closing his eyes, he could feel the heat of reentering the atmosphere.
Until he didn't. Until he felt an arm around his waist. Opening his eyes, Kal was muttering about a dozen curses, placing him by the bay door before going to save Oliver, who was still being waved back and forth by the beast.
Bruce quickly ran to join Barry, who looked... excited. He waited to ask if they were clear of New Jersey, watching as they approached the planet.
"Did... we do it?" Kal heaved as he ran in, Oliver trailing in after him. Barry took a long moment to do mental calculations before nodding.
"We did it. The heat from re-entry should burn that stupid thing to a crisp!" Barry cheered, watching out the window as the giant beast began to scream in agony from the pain of fire bursting across its flesh. The other 3 breathed a sigh of relief, Kal opting to lay on the floor of the Watchtower.
Yet, in a split second, the entire scene shifted. The broken, burning Watchtower returned to... exactly how it was an hour ago before the Justice League disappeared. Lights on, floor stable, no broken panels or windows. Kal didn't even bother to sit up to figure out what was happening, muscles aching too bad to bother.
Bruce, however, was immediately on edge, only relaxing when he saw the Justice League. They were back?
"Batman? What happened? Where did you go?" He demanded, Alfred greeting him with a smile.
"Congratulations, Robin, Superboy, Speedy, and Kid Flash. You have... passed." Alfred spoke, the other heroes equally as proud looking. This was... a test. From behind the door, Miss Martain entered the hall, a smile plastered across her face.
"I am very proud! You all fought wonderfully, and your plan was well thought out!" She clapped as she approached, looking genuinly pleased.
"Wh...what?" Barry glanced between his mentor and the martian, having no clue what the hell just happened. Had there not been a giant alien monster here a second ago? Weren't they crash landing in the ocean. Bruce face palmed as it struck him what had happened.
"The JL used Miss Martain to like... brain connect us or whatever and simulate an emergency." He groaned. Why did Alfred always have to spring pop quizzes on him? Having time to prepare would be nice...
"Sorry for not warning you guys. It was the Bats idea, so don't blame us too harshly." Wally snickered, nudging Alfred in the side.
"It was a simple test, is all. Batman wanted to see how all of you worked together during a crisis threat without us interfering." Jor spoke up, helping Kal to his feet and clapping him on the back. Roy simply nodded at Oliver, a sign of his approval.
"So like... no more of that, right? Cuz I can feel a major headache coming on." Barry whined, his face scrunched in mild pain.
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freakshowtwopointoh · 1 year ago
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I Won't Pretend That I Won't Miss This
Jordan stared at the offer letter like it was their death warrant. Six months ago it had been everything they wanted. But everything changed in six months so why did they have to get this job now? Different parts of themself pulling in different directions, pulling so hard they might actually become two people with the intensity.
UCLA. R&D intern for a Vought subsidiary. Brink had pulled a few strings for them, wrote a killer recommendation, and they wrote a stellar essay. At the time, they were sure they would get the job. This was the first time they hated being right.
The small voice in the back of their head, the golden butterfly of hope, reminded them that they could make it work. That plenty of people managed long distance relationships, and that the internship was only 9 months long. And then they thought about watching Marie walk away from them at the fucking JFK departure lane and the ache in their chest was enough to cause them to shift involuntarily. They thought about how her voice doesn’t sound quite right through the phone. How her eyes don’t shine as bright through a camera lens. And how hard it was to fall asleep without her next to them. 
The louder, darker voice in their head reminded them that she probably wouldn’t want to wait for them anyways. It’s one thing when they live just a few buildings away from each other, but multiple time zones? She would be going to sleep around their dinner time - if they were even out of work. They would be waking up when she was already in classes. When they imagined making their way through the UCLA campus, there was that sickening lurch in their stomach as they realized she wouldn’t be in any crowd. They would be alone again.
And it would be selfish of them to even ask her to wait for them. This is college, and she’s just starting. They’d be limiting her, hurting her, by asking her to put in all that time and effort for them. But if they were truly honest, it was cowardice. They didn’t think they would be able to stomach it if she rejected them. She was truly going places. She had this ease about her, an earnestness to her that drew people to her like the sun. She was a true star - and they were never going to break out of the background.
They didn’t hear Marie come in, but they felt her stand next to them, forcibly unfurling their tightly clenched fist to hold their hand. She didn’t say anything, just stood there holding their hand until they realized tears were falling from their eyes onto the offer letter, which they hadn’t stopped staring at since they opened it. 
“So. What’s our next move?” They had to push her away. She deserves so much more than them. 
“This was fun, Moreau, but I think-”
“Are you serious?” She snapped, cutting them off. “If you think I’d rather lose you than wait nine months, you are actually an idiot.”
“I-” They went to argue with her again, but her eyes made it clear she wasn’t interested in dealing with their shit.
“If you actually want to end things now, go ahead. But I can feel your heart pounding, Jor. And nine months is nothing.”
“You could have a whole ass child during that time.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a half ass child, but I guess it’s possible.” That got a chuckle out of them, in spite of everything. “Stop trying to protect me from yourself, Jordan. You’re not as dangerous as you think you are. I’m not afraid of loving you.”
Afraid? Of loving Marie?
“I’m afraid of losing you, Marie!” They yelled, unsure of what she was accusing them of. Did she think they were afraid of loving her? No. They were afraid of losing her, they were afraid of hurting her, but loving her? That was as easy as breathing. But breathing wasn’t always easy, was it. Like now, the fear corrodes the love until their breath is tangled in their tongue and nothing makes sense anymore. 
“Isn’t that the same thing?” She spits back. They don’t have a response to that. They’re glaring at the letter again, as if that would help anything. Marie breaks the silence again.
“Just... love me anyways.” She said softly. “I’m scared of losing you too, baby. But don’t stop loving me just because you’re afraid of getting hurt.”
Love me anyways. Wasn’t that what true love was? Loving each other even though it might actually kill us. Facing every one of their fears would be worth it if they could be by her side, right? They finally looked at her, finally met the big brown eyes that had made them fall in love in the first place.
“I’m so fucking scared, Marie. Wh-” They were about to launch into the series of what ifs that had been plaguing them all morning when her lips met theirs and everything faded away. Their hand shook slightly as they cupped her face, trying to put as much love and courage and care into the kiss as they could. Because when she was this close to them, when their lips met, it was almost like they had never been afraid of anything in their life. When she pulled away, she met their eyes with a soft smile. “Ok. I love you, Marie. Let’s figure this out.”
So they did. They planned out when Marie would be able to fly out to UCLA. They scheduled weekly video calls. They fell asleep on the phone with Marie every night - her soft breathing becoming their own white noise as they worked into the night. They never stopped looking for her in crowds, even when they knew she wouldn’t be there. So when she surprised them at their big presentation (despite it being a couple weeks before exams) they noticed immediately and nearly cried on stage. But it was the best presentation they’d ever done. 
And when they finally landed back at JFK, ready to start their senior year with Marie by their side, the reunion was sweeter than they could have ever imagined.
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sarksarkos · 29 days ago
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Superboy before the Silver Age
More Fun Comics #101, from 1945, is the first comic appearance of Superboy, and he didn't even make the cover. What happened to Dover and Clover? Bring them back for DC Rebirth.
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In '45, original Superman creators and best friends Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster created a prequel series about the adventures of Superman when he was a boy. Remember that phrase, it will be on the test. This story introduced a lot of elements to the Superman lore that weren't present in the original story. His introduction in Action Comics #1 skipped over his entire childhood and presented his home planet as a natural race of Supermen.
The Superboy run was the first series to characterize the Kryptonians as a race of isolationist intellectuals with Jor-El (or Jor-L, but that's a whole other story) as a renegade trying to convince the science council about Krypton's destruction. Similarly, it showed Ma and Pa Kent as a kindly older couple who adopted Clark and nurtured his powers, but they're not very present in this series.
At the time, it was intended that this was simply an expansion of the existing lore, what we would now call a Retcon, but the term didn't exist at the time. Later creators would decide that this actually the birth of an entirely new Superman, one who started his career as a Superboy. The Retcon was itself Retconned into the beginning of Earth-One.
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I'm admittedly not a fan of the Golden Age, but I love Joe Shuster's art. There's a raw edge to it that you don't see in later Superman artists like Wayne Boring or Curt Swan. Especially with Superboy, they often draw him as a somewhat slim adult, but Shuster makes him feel like an awkward kid.
As is typical for the day, there aren't really any supervillains in these stories. Superheroes in the golden age were more about fighting back against the realistic horrors of the world instead of aliens and monsters with death rays. There isn't a lot of myth-making or "prequel moments" either. We never see Clark decide to start wearing glasses to hide his identity, he just does that between issues like an afterthought.
What we do get is a lot of golden age-style Justice. With the realistic focus means Superboy is going after the kind of assholes you would encounter in your real life and helping those who have been downtrodden by society. One of my favorite stories was in Adventure Comics #104, from 1946.
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Superboy meets Joie Mayhew, a blind child who makes amazing toys, and Clark Kent helps encourage him to enter a contest and win a cash prize to help his family. Joie's toys are so good that they could revolutionize the toymaking industry, and the organizers try to steal all the toys and claim the patents.
Superboy goes absolutely nuts on these crooks, using the toys to psychologically torment them until they drive their truck off a cliff, only saving them at the last second and forcing them to give Joie the prize. With the money, Joie can get an experimental eye surgery and start a toy factory where he and other prodigy children can make incredible toys.
It's not child labor if the management are also children, right? Like that's not... that's everyone getting exploited the same way, that's all good, right?
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These comics aren't about Superboy using his powers to fight crime - although there is an aspect of that - but it was primarily about using his powers to help people. Superboy would just as often help a sad kid have a birthday party or get a sick man to a doctor, or build a new playground. The above is from an issue where he becomes the Pinball Wizard to fight back against the scourge of rigged pinball machines, which was, I assume, the rock and roll, video games, and crack cocaine of their time.
Another issue has Superboy take part in his student council election so he can fight election interference from a thuggish, violent, anti-intellectual bully, something that I'm sure has no relevance to events either now or at the time.
The Superboy stories do start introducing elements of Superman's mythos. Adventure Comics #120 has Superman meeting a young Perry White at the start of his career, and helps him break the story of Superboy's existence. Then in issue #128, we meet the legend herself, the young Lois Lane.
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I absolutely love how tongue-in-cheek the narrator is being. It knows it's doing a Prequel Moment and it's going to go all in. "You know what we're doing, we know what we're doing, let's just have some fun with it!" It's great to see Clark so head-over-heels for Lois and her just not giving a shit about anything but Superboy. She's so tsundere.
There is a very low-key vibe to these stories, and the way they slowly trickle in familiar characters and raised stakes does make it feel like a good prequel. With its new position as the birth of Earth-1, it also feels like reading the original Dragon Ball after becoming familiar with DBZ, seeing a familiar hero that's nevertheless raw and unformed, not quite the person he would become. Superman as a franchise has gone back and forth on Clark's career as Superboy, and I fall on the Pro-Superboy side of things, but it's something that has its pitfalls.
Superboy would be in Adventure Comics from 1946 through 1969, and we've only covered the first two years. At that time, Superman was also appearing in his own self-titled comic, as well as Action Comics and World's Finest. In 1949, he would get a fifth comic, when DC began publishing Superboy. Until next time.
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superslavemannn · 2 months ago
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The Nuclear Apocalypse of Superman: Book 1 (Chap. 3)
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Last week...
Superman got the most bizarre gift from his father, Jor-El. He had no idea that this ring would end up changing his life forever—and that he'd fail the test in the most unexpected and miserable way…
Let’s dive deeper into the story this week…
Chapter 3: Reflection of Shame
Metropolis, the city of dreams and ambitions, the city built by its hardworking citizens, the city blessed by its protector, was bathed in the soft, golden glow of early morning light. At 7 a.m., the streets were just beginning to stir. The gentle hum of life filled the air as birds chirped on telephone wires, and the occasional clatter of footsteps echoed on the sidewalks below. Vendors set up their carts, their voices light and cheerful, offering fresh coffee and pastries to the early risers. For a moment, it was the most peaceful time of the day in Metropolis, as the city's usual hustle and bustle had yet to awaken fully.
In a crowded but lively residential area, nestled among the labyrinth of fire escapes and brick buildings, stood a shabby old apartment complex. Its faded paint and creaky staircases spoke of decades of wear. On the third floor, one apartment in particular looked unassuming, barely noticeable. Its windows were wide open facing a dimmed abandoned valley, letting in the crisp morning breeze that danced with the faded cream curtains, making them billow like sails.
At first glance, the room within was ordinary. Modest furnishings—a small dining table, a sofa that had seen better days, and a few bookshelves packed with newspapers and magazines. Nothing special about it that almost everyone would say its occupant led an ordinary life. But then, on a chair near the window, a vibrant burst of color caught the light: a red cape draped casually over the back, its golden 'S' insignia gleaming faintly, attached to a bright blue and red Superman suit. The sight was almost comical in its juxtaposition with the otherwise mundane room.
This was Superman's home, but to most people, known as Clark Kent's apartment, hidden in the heart of Metropolis.
From the bathroom came a faint sound of running water. Clark Kent was showering, the soft patter of droplets breaking the morning stillness. The steam from the hot water curled out through the semi-opened bathroom door, mingling with fresh breeze. Inside, Clark hummed a tune to himself, his voice carrying the cheerful notes of Singin' in the Rain. He couldn't help but imagine himself as Gene Kelly, twirling through rainy streets, carefree and laughing. For a moment, he let himself pretend—pretend he wasn't Superman, but just a regular guy dancing without a care in the world.
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He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of warmth against his face, letting it roll over his broad shoulders, down his chest, and along his legs to his feet. An unalterably, beautiful physique. The mass of his arms, thighs, the staggering breadth of his shoulders, the cut, mounds and curve of his pecs, the narrow hips, and well-rounded buttocks. His fingers couldn't help brushing idly across his incredible, muscular pecs, tightening, caressing them, tracing to his tight abdominal, to his crotch.
But then, mid-thought, his fingertip touched against something unexpected at the base of his half-erected penis—something not quite skin. It was firm, almost rubbery, and definitely not supposed to be there. Clark paused, his humming abruptly cutting off as his eyes snapped open. His smile faded into a puzzled frown as his heart sunk to the bottom.
It was the penis ring—his father Jor-El's warning, his restriction—given just hours earlier in the Fortress of Solitude.
The memory flood back like a raw but forgotten wound getting touched accidentally, shame and anger surging from deep within him from his crotch to his mind. Suddenly, everything felt surreal, blurring the line between reality and illusion.
Just hours ago, he had endured a brutal lecture—emotionally scarring and physically draining—from his father. Now, back home and stripped bare, he still felt uneasy in his comfortable area, his confidence shaken.
He quickly pulled his fingers away from the cock ring, an anxious flicker of fear sparking within him at the thought of accidentally activating it. But nothing happened. The ring remained still—no shrinking, no pain. His penis hung flaccid, long but soft, while his heavy ballsack swayed low, water dripping onto the spaces between his strong toes.
''Okay, okay, all good, Kal. No need to worry. Focus. Be a hero. You can do this,'' Clark muttered to himself, his voice wavering as he tried to summon courage. He inhaled deeply, letting the warm water cascade over him, though his gaze remained fixed below.
''Be…a hero…''
He couldn't help but stare at his manhood—a true marvel even in its relaxed state. Light teal veins traced across the cavernous tissue, and his X-ray vision accidentally engaged as he studied it too intently. Beneath his skin, he saw the frenetic movement of sperm swimming in his urethra and scrotum, a sight he had never witnessed in broad daylight but only been able to take a glimpse through his body, underneath his skin. Yet still, those powerful sources of power were so close and dear to him, even though he had never touched them, felt them, held them, or even tasted them.
Maybe he never will.
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The realization hit him hard: his body, god-like in power, felt alien to him. He could never truly control or embrace this part of himself, could never masturbate freely or even ejaculate—not without Jor-El's permission. The thought poured over him like icy water, a suffocating sorrow creeping in. Would he ever experience release? Could he ever truly feel human in this way?
''No,'' he growled softly, shaking his head as if to dislodge the thought. ''It's not the time for that, Kal.'' Clark turned off the water immediately. He couldn't bear even one more second staring at the harsh truth between his godly thighs. He couldn't allow himself to be immersed into such hopeless and shameful musings, although he must face it one day.
''Think about the city. Your people. They need you. They love you.'' He stepped out of the shower, forcing himself to focus on brighter thoughts. ''Think about Jonathan. You dad, he loves you. Think about…Jimmy…''
As he dried off, Clark turned on the radio sitting on his cabinet. He needed something, anything, to distract himself and take his mind off the desperate truth between his thighs.
''... Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman! ''
The radio crackled to life, and the familiar opening theme of the Superman radio drama filled the room. It was the crown jewel of Metropolis Radio: The Adventures of Superman. These were imaginative stories lovingly created by fans and brought to life by talented voice actors. Sure, real-life stories of Superman saving the day happened all the time, but you couldn’t underestimate the enthusiasm of his admirers. Kids especially loved hearing about Superman’s daring, heartwarming imaginary stories, which were far more exciting and personal than the stiff reports on the news.
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''What's a better way to start the morning than with some fan fiction?'' Clark thought and chuckled, shooting red laser beams from his eyes into the mirror, using the reflected beams to neatly shave off the stubble on his face.
Clark, of course, was also a huge fan of the radio show . He tuned in regularly, though with a hint of amusement and curiosity. He wondered how ordinary people imagined his life, or, whether their version of his adventures was more exciting than the ones he actually lived.
Yet, what Clark wouldn’t readily admit was that he felt a peculiar thrill listening to those heroic tales. He was, after all, the very main character in the broadcast, the lovable figure hailed as the greatest hero, the strongest man on Earth, invincible and the ultimate champion of justice and truth.
Yes, he savored the fiery devotion, the bouquets of admiration and love that people showered upon him. Despite his public modesty—every time he saved the day, he would humbly declare, ''I’m just your friend, a helpful neighbor''—he couldn't deny the immense satisfaction he felt inside when basking in the applause and cheers. His ego was insatiable when it came to praise.
The stories might not have been entirely real, but the adoration they carried was. It fueled a part of him he rarely acknowledged: the part that reveled in being worshipped. It made him weirdly excited, not only in his heroic mind, but also in his little red briefs.
''Yesterday, we witnessed a remarkable moment as Superman's former archnemesis, Dr. Dedalus, chose to turn over a new leaf after Superman’s heartfelt appeal. Not only did Dr. Dedalus provide life-saving treatment to Superman in his time of need, but he also went on to invent a cure for cancer! Has Dr. Dedalus truly become Superman's ally, or is there a deeper, more sinister plot at play? Join us today as we continue The Adventures of Superman!''
Turning up the radio, Clark reached for Superman suit draped across a chair in the corner of his room. The vibrant red, blue, and yellow seemed to shimmer in the morning light.
As the radio played the story of Superman and Dr. Dedalus teaming up to battle underground monsters, Clark donned the suit, pulling it over his powerful frame with the practiced ease of a man who had done so countless times before. Once his little super buddy with its ''cursed'' choker was tugged comfortably right in the cradle of that smooth red briefs, Clark turned to the full-length mirror mounted on the wall.
''Hooray!! With Dr. Dedalus's help, Superman has once again saved Metropolis! The greatest hero in the hearts of the people, the embodiment of justice! It's Superman!''
Meanwhile, the real Superman, dressed in his skin-tight suits, proudly stood in front of the mirror, listening to his imaginary story and people's praise, drinking in his reflection. Clark's eyes scanned the details of his physique, lingering on every muscle, every curve, every detail that set him apart from mortal men.
''I am the hero! I'm Superman!''
A grin reappeared across Clark's face, widening as he struck a pose, puffing out his chest to emphasize the iconic ''S'' shield. He pivoted slightly, admiring the way the cape fell perfectly over his shoulders, then adjusted it minutely for maximum effect.
''But wait! Just as Dr. Dedalus and Superman were examining the remains of the monster in the lab, Dr. Dedalus sneaked up behind Superman and switched on the large green light above him! Oh no! That’s a Kryptonite beam! Superman’s greatest weakness!''
''Kryptonite!'' The word suddenly pulled Clark’s attention back to the radio drama.
Kryptonite. It was the very thing that had appeared in his dream earlier that day, the reason why he had received the cruel punishment from his Krypton father. Superman stood frozen, holding his breath, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Involuntarily, Clark's gaze shifted to his crotch. The outline of his super member on the red briefs slowly began to take shape, swelling and elongating before his eyes.
'' 'I'm h-hhh-hhorribly weakened and... pained... by the rays!... turn them off! Doctor, have y-yyy-you gone out of your mind!'  Oh no! the Man of Steel collapses on the floor! 'You're in super trouble! You fell right into my death trap!' ''
As Superman's pained groans echoed through the apartment from the radio, the intense desire Clark had felt in the shower suddenly surged back again, as if a monster had caught him off guard, seizing his throat from behind and leaving him utterly powerless.
'' 'You...Devil! Ow...ow-ww!  Ow-ww!' Superman, no!!! The greatest hero struggles in vain as Dr. Dedalus straps him to a bench, with bands of metal containing, also, Kryptonite! 'Ha ha! How simple it was to outwit you! Resistance is hopeless, you fool!... Pardon me, while I turn up the power of the rays a trifle!' Dr. Dedalus raises the power in these rays to its full strength, making Superman cry out in agony! Get up, Superman! You cannot give up like this!''
''Why my scream... No, it's not mine. But why does it sound so much like I was in the show...Oh...no...'' Clark thought to himself, breathing heavily. Superman's scream sounded almost like it was voiced by Clark himself, the real Superman.
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'' 'Aaaargggh! Stop... oh...no...Please!...It's killing me....Aaaaaargggh!' ''
The scream from the radio crept over Clark, igniting an excruciating urge inside. His gaze fixed on the reflection of his now throbbing erection. He wanted to touch it, his glorious bulge, to tame that howling tiger in his red underpants.
'' 'I was... a... fool... to trust you... Ow-oww... Please... Stop it... I'm begging you!....Stop...'  Oh... How come our hero reduces to this. He is begging his enemy for mercy! Dr. Dedalus claps and cheers while watching our hero suffer a big time! 'Aha! Your skin has begun to turn green as the Kryptonite fever rages within you!'  What a twisted cruel cruel man!''
As the plot thickened, Clark's mind spiraled into a maddening, torturous haze. Catching sight of the faint outline of his ring beneath the red briefs, his rational mind screamed that there was no way he would touch that erection like he used to do. He dreaded that the penis ring would tighten its unbearable constraint once his hand landed on it.
Now, the real Superman was almost as hopeless as the hero in the show.
As the scream from the radio intensified, Clark found himself involuntarily leaning closer to the mirror, his hand hovering just above his reflection. Slowly, he reached out, fingers brushing the cool silver surface of the mirror. They traced his jawline, his lips, his mouth, and then lower—to the powerful bulge beneath the red briefs. Tears welled in his eyes, betraying the raw hunger and frustration simmering within. He wanted to touch, to feel, to be free.
'' 'At last!! After all these years of vainly trying, I'm finally going to kill you, Superman! Your glorious days are over! Now, face your inevitable doom!'  ’’
Clark's whole body quaked as the show reached its climax. Leaning closer to the mirror, his lips met the cold, hard, unyielding surface. His chest, firm and broad, pressed against the glass, the cool sensation stark against his heated skin. Without a second though, his hips moved forward with his glutes tightened, his breath quickened, and his desire only deepened. Finally, his huge bulge touched with the hard surface of his reflection and lust. A strange but overwhelming warmth began to blossom at the core of Clark's wood-stiff manhood, radiating outward like a rising tide.
''Oh, no! Superman turns completely green and his struggles are getting weaker and weaker. He is dying! Dr. Dedalus is killing Superman! ''
As the radio show painted a picture of an imaginary Superman falling into the hands of death, the thought of his own downfall, the death of Superman, sparked a powerful, almost intoxicating rush. It surged through Clark’s body like a current—electric and unstoppable—spreading from his chest to the very tips of his fingers.
''Superman's weakening breath ceases! His whole body is now turning into a glowing green, lying motionless on the bench! Has Dr. Dedalus really succeeded in killing the Man of Steel?''
Those terrifying words were like a giant invisible hand, pressing Clark against the unresponsive cold mirror, and yet he felt something burning in his every cell and every nerve.
''Why does it feel so good... hearing the story of me... dying... helplessly... at the villain’s hands? Oh no...''
Clark couldn't help but tremble, standing slowly on tiptoes, giving his crotch a further push against the mirror to increase the pressure. The warmth suddenly turned into an explosion, as if the blood were rushing in his body at the speed of light. The news of Superman's imaginary death has made Clark burning, dizzy, weak, and helpless, but he knew he could keep doing it until the end of the universe.
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The cruel story in the radio continued...
''Is Superman dead? Dr. Dedalus begins to examine the hero's limp form. 'I must make sure Superman isn't just pretending to be dead, to trick me into turning off the rays! Hmmm... this super X-ray disclosed all things in his body. The organs and his blood! All turned green! He is very, very dead! DEAD!'  ''
As the final word echoed through Clark's mind and soul, the warmth in his body turned into an intense surge of flame, like a raging inferno. Clark pulled back slightly to look down, while the bulge stayed pressed against the mirror. His eyes fixed on the growing erection in his briefs—a vibrant and swelling red. It lifted, pressing hard on the mirror, stretching as it’s hardened, thick and full. He rubbed it against the mirror up and down, from left to right, while his hips instinctively pressed with such precision so that the mirror wouldn't break under his superhuman strength, seeking more friction, more connection. Harder and harder.
'' 'I just killed Superman! I've destroyed the mightiest man in the universe!'  ''
While the cold, stiff body of the imaginary Superman lay dead, the real Superman was reaching an unparalleled, earth-shattering climax, unlike anything he had ever experienced. His manhood stood fully erect now, long and solid, straining against the fabric, craving for escape. Superman trembled violently and moaned like a teenage boy masturbating for the first time.
A moment ago, Clark thought he would never feel it again. He thought the punishment, along with the ring, took away his right of self-touching for good, as well as his right of sexual climax. But now he could relive it once again, hand-free, in the illusion of his own imaginary death. Finally, he could have his only private moment without activating that damn dick ring! He wept like a reborn man.
''Superman is dead. There is no way to save him now.'' The narration voice from the radio started to tremble, then suddenly gave way to Dr. Dedalus's chilling laughter as he announced his victory to the world., '' 'People of earth! I, Dr. Dedalus, have killed Superman! This is no hoax! It's absolutely true! Now, I own his dead body. It will be my greatest trophy forever!' ''
''Oh... Why it makes me so hard... What he will do to my body... Oh great Krypton... Cut off my head... make it into a trophy...Oh great Rao...'' Clark couldn't help but think about what the imaginary villain would do to his lifeless body. Meanwhile, the pressure on the tip of his penis had almost reached its maximum. He was ready to release his natural flow.
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''Now, my audience, please remain silent for a minute. We mourn the loss of the greatest hero...''
As the room suddenly fell into silence, Clark closed his eyes and pressed his whole body onto the mirror. Suddenly, the ring  began to vibrate. It was shrinking.
Clark let out an agonizing howl, and tiny cracks started to appear on the mirror..
''I don't care anymore! I will die from the radiation on my dick ring. It will kill me, emasculating me on site. But I DON'T CARE! Let me have it, father! Let me have IT!!!''
The surge of precum building up to the tip of his urethra.
But as quickly as he came to the verge of collapsing, the sharp ringing of the phone cut through the quiet, snapping Clark out of his sexual spiral. He jumped back from the mirror and glanced at the desk where the phone sat, but before he could answer, his old answering machine clicked on with a beep.
A voice crackled through the speaker—Jimmy Olsen, his colleague and ever-enthusiastic partner in journalism. But today, Jimmy sounded anything but upbeat.
''Clark! Clark, are you out for work!'' Jimmy's voice was rushed, almost frantic.
''Listen, you've got to get down here right now. Something big is happening, and it's bad—real bad. The East-West arms control talks... they've broken down. Completely collapsed! The President is about to make an emergency address to the nation. It's all over the news, man. The Planet's newsroom is in overdrive. Perry wants everyone on deck! And Clark, the streets are saying something big is gonna happen in our office. Something catastrophic. Just get down here, okay? Hurry!''
Clark jumped towards the desk, almost ludicrously, scrambling for the phone, and said ''Hello,'' hoping to get a hint from Jimmy about details, but he had hung up. He was talking to a dial tone.
Clark's jaw tightened as he stared at the desk, his mind racing.
''Something catastrophic…'' he whispered; his voice barely audible. The words jolted him like a sudden burst of clarity, snapping his thoughts back to reality. The lust and vulnerability that had consumed him moments earlier slowly evaporated, leaving behind a sharp focus. His vision, blurred moments ago from tears and sweat, cleared. His hearing sharpened, catching the sound of streets beyond his walls. Energy flooded back into his body; the sluggishness of indulgence replaced by the vitality of purpose.
In that moment, a warm voice from the radio filled the room once again, ''Well, let's not feel too badly! After all, this was only an imaginary story!... Folks, the chances are a million to one! It will never happen! Just a quick reminder to our audience: all Kryptonite on earth had been collected and destroyed by our government over a year ago! So right now, Superman is probably safe and sound, listening to our show, entertained by our little story! Again, the hero will not leave us! And by the way, just last night, Superman saved three Russian astronauts from a deadly collision between the space station and orbital debris,'' the announcer cheerfully continued, ''The Man of Steel not only repaired the station but also escorted the injured astronaut safely back to Earth. Truly, a hero for all humanity!''
The words washed over Clark, a quiet reminder of the reality, right here, right now.
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Yes, there was no way that somebody could defeat him, let alone kill him! The only Kryptonite on earth probably was just that tiny bit in the penis ring of his. He is Superman—the symbol of hope, protector of a fragile world. He is the hero that will always stand against evil. There was no time for indulgence, no room for hesitation. The instinct of a big boy scout surged within him, obliterating the remnants of his earlier misstep.
Without wasting another second, he carefully tugged his Superman suit beneath his reporter's attire: a crisp white shirt, a modest tie, old-fashioned suit trousers, and his signature thick-rimmed glasses. He glanced at the mirror one last time, not as Superman but as Clark Kent—mild-mannered journalist, no trace of the crazy turmoil he'd felt earlier. To his surprise, his body had calmed entirely, his khaki-colored trousers loose and unremarkable, no evidence of his earlier arousal, no trace of that once throbbing bulge.
There was no time to linger. Grabbing his satchel and suit jacket, wearing his hat, he bolted out the door, bounding down the apartment stairs two steps at a time and into the bustling streets of Metropolis.
After Clark left, the apartment returned to its peaceful, serene state. Sunlight streamed in through the wide-open window, casting a glow on the tiny cracks left on the mirror.
Clark never noticed, but those cracks were like an omen. The repression of his hyper sexuality over the past thirty years was beginning to take on an unexpected but extremely dangerous form. From his narcissistic admiration of his own body, to his obsession with the allure of strong male bodies, and then to a secret yearning for pain, torment, and humiliation. And today, after enduring his father's cruel punishment, something inside him had surfaced. It was something darker and more twisted: fantasies of his own death, at the hands of his enemies.
But Clark was too cocky, too full of himself, to realize what the series of events that had unfolded that morning truly meant for him. He was still reveling in the thought of being the strongest hero in the world, completely unaware that this new thing, lurking in the back of his mind, a dangerous fetish, would lead him down a path of irreversible destruction.
Now, the awkward and naive young reporter from the Planet Daily was making his way through the bustling crowd, heading straight for the subway station.
There was no room for distraction. He had one thing in his mind:
The world needed Superman.
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What could possibly be waiting for Clark at the Daily Planet? Something catastrophic? Another test from his father—one he’s doomed to fail again?
Stay tuned for Chapter 4: Love in Flight, arriving this time next week…
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