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3 yrs ago
Current is sexualizing Pokemon a variation of bestiality?
3 likes
3 yrs ago
lol. lmao
7 likes
3 yrs ago
JOHN TABLE!
1 like
4 yrs ago
hearing rumors that rebornfan is storming the US capitol, looking for whoever's responsible for everyone ghosting his RPs
14 likes
4 yrs ago
you got a fat ass and a bright future ahead of you. keep it up champ
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Bio

Most Recent Posts

<Snipped quote by Roman>

It was a damn good post. Looking forward to Frank's arc.


Seconded. Always love in-character reactions to events in other parts of the world, and Castle's a grad-A grump about it
You IKEA lookin bastard
<Snipped quote by Cybermaxx>

You want more?


spare me pls
<Snipped quote by Sep>

You'd have to be mad. Or maybe...super.

Super duper.


Having a normal one

Imagine posting daily.


You'd have to be mad. Or maybe...super.

Super duper.
SEASON ONE Sensation & Wonder
SUPERBOY #4 Pull My Strings

Hob's Bay Metropolis

Two superhumans battled their way across Metropolis. Buildings crumple as bodies smash through ceilings and support beams. Streetlamps become blunt instruments. Cars are taught to fly. Anything not physically part of the earth becomes either a weapon or a projectile. They batter, bash, bump, thrash, choke and cut each other until they're black and blue. Cameras mounted to flying disks record the entire, violent affair.

They've been at it for near half an hour, and Superboy was tiring. He'd thrown everything he had and then some at Knockout and she'd just kept on coming. No amount of damage left her on her back for long. The first time he'd put his fist through her chest he'd thought he'd killed her, but the woman had just howled with joy. It was off-putting, to say the least.

This wasn't as fun as he thought it'd be.

A storm was upon him. Blows raining down on his face. Nose cracks like thunder. Pavement snaps like twigs under the vestigial force. Hands up, bat away the punches. Redirect. Head feels like jelly. Slip under a haymaker, body compresses like a slinky- pop back up, head rockets into her jaw. Knockout stumbles back. Gives enough room for Superboy to leap back, clear to the other side of the street. Need a moment to breathe.

"Damn," words heave from his chest alongside a glob of blood. Every breath burns. Muscles ache. Red, sticky fluid flows down from an open wound over his eye. No amount of blinking clears his vision. Swimming in red. "Damn!" Superboy hoots, slamming a fist against his chest. Another batch of blood comes crawling out of his mouth. That was all of it. Airways were clearer, now. A glance toward one of the cameras. Gotta keep up appearances. Can't let them see he was struggling. "You're really rockin' my world, baby."

On the other side of the street Knockout stood, jaw in her hand. She pushed it upward, and a sickening snap followed. Worked to the left, then the right. Thing went from hanging by a handful of sinew to fully functional in seconds. "Ooh yes!" Her whole body shook. Fidgety energy kept her bouncing on her heels, her fingers curling. "It has been so very long. Pounding ears, chest swelling. Racked with pain from head to toe. Transcendent! Ecstasy!"

"You're a chatterbox, y'know that?"

"The pot accuses the kettle!"

"Close enough." His feet were off the ground and he was racing toward her. Can't give her too much time to recover. She healed through everything he threw at her. He could take more punishment, but anything that got through was permanent. Gotta find a way to pin her down.

Fist connects with her cheek and she's keeled over. That one would've knocked anyone else's block off, but all it did was slow her down for a few seconds. This close up it was hard to ignore how she was taking all this. Every inch of exposed skin was covered in goosebumps. Every strike either of them landed made her tremble. Air around her stunk of estrogen, dopamine, oxytocin, and norepinephrine. Her limpic system was practically cannibalizing itself from hyperactivity. That same healing factor that was keeping her alive was restoring neurotransmitters faster than her brain could kill them.

'She can't build up a tolerance. Every high's exactly as intense as the very first.'

Knockout was back on her feet and swinging away at him. Every one of those punches would've been devastating. Even the air around her fists was crackling with heat from the sheer force of her movement. Superboy was fast enough to play keep away, but for how long? If she tagged him and brought him down, would she even stop? Something's wrong with her brain. Like somebody'd gotten inside and switched all the wires for violence and sex around.

Idiot. Dumbass! How'd it take him so long to see this?

"Really hate to be the bearer of bad news, lady, but you've got a condition." He wasn't even throwing punches anymore. Just batting her arms away to redirect the most of the impact and dancing back, quick as he could, to make some distance. Knockout kept right on top of him. She was a flurry of savagery. None of the skill she'd shown in the beginning, just a barrage of strikes- most of them weren't even killing strokes. She was just trying to make contact; every successful hit produced chemicals regardless. There was laughter on her lips.

"They knew what drove me." She struggled to speak between fits of giggles. They must've been involuntary. "They knew I could never be loyal to anything but my own..." It looked like a great deal of effort, but she managed a disappointed scowl. "...Needs."

Superboy faltered. He'd been going about this all wrong.

She finally caught him.

A left hook clipped him on the chin, and a right knocked him in the temple. She stopped swinging long enough to grab a clump of his hair and heft him into the air, delivering a dozen body blows with her free hand. Crack like thunder. Broken rib. The rain beat down, down, down. Down into the ground. Split the earth, spray of dirt and concrete and pavement. Air stunk of pheromones and blood.

She drops him. Pleasure crackles like lightning through her veins. A rush unlike any she'd felt in so many years. "I tried." It takes momentous effort to speak between heavy breaths. "I tried to find a substitute, but there is nothing on this earth like it. The writhing flesh of a dozen demigods, pounds upon pounds of your recreational drugs- I was a fool to believe this could be replaced." Her hands were shaking, demanding to be laid into flesh. Knockout was doing everything she could to control herself.

Superboy didn't even bother trying to get up. It was hard enough to just lay there and speak. "I'm sorry."

"What?" She frowned, puzzled.

"I-" He coughed. "-I knocked ya off the wagon. Me'n my stupid- shit, that hurts- stupid ego. So desperate to prove somethin' I couldn't see it starin' me in the face."

"You're kind, but a fool. I am a warrior. My actions are my own. No boy could make me do anything I did not wish to." She wasn't going to hold it together for much longer. "Truth be told you were an easy excuse to indulge in something I have dreamt of for so long. And now I've ruined everything. Gods above. I was given a chance and I threw it away."

"You quit before. How? Why?"

Knockout smiled wistfully, trapped in a memory. "Your predecessor humbled me. Delivered me to Belle Reve, where I was to rot for my crimes. I was given a chance at penitence: serve your country in Waller's death squad and earn a clean slate. T'was not true redemption, but it was my path out of prison."

"So that's it?" He sat up on his elbows. "You just went cold turkey?"

"I would have returned to my old ways in under a week if not for..."

"Liana."

"Liana." She nodded. The shaking in her hands had lessened. "The sweetest creature in this galaxy, or any other. She was the only human to never fear me. It was her that convinced me I could...I could be more than what my creators intended."

That was all she needed to push through, freeing her mind from its chemical haze. Demands for more were shut out, for now. Willpower was only a temporary solution, but she proved strong enough to shackle her worst impulses- this time.

'Will need to find her help later. Real help.'

She took a step away from Superboy, lowering a hand to him. He took it without hesitation, expecting to be helped to his feet. Instead he was hefted into the air and wrapped into a too-tight embrace. They were both a mess of sweat, blood and dirt. But they'd be fine. Eventually. "You have been most helpful, Son of Krypton. Thank you for reminding me of who I am meant to be. You are an adult, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess. Why-"



Then she dropped him into a pile of rubble and walked away.
That image took more time to make than the rest of the fuckin post. Anyway, left you suckers with a cliffhanger- expect some punchin people in issue #4.
SEASON ONE Sensation & Wonder
SUPERBOY #3 Pull My Strings

Boom Boom Room Metropolis, Delaware

They called it the Boom Boom Room. The premier strip club in the Suicide Slums, frequented by everyone who couldn't afford the place five blocks over. It was near-identical to every other three-story brick building in the Slums, save for the giant, neon letters on the roof that spelled out its initials: BBR. That middle B had made a habit out of breaking every couple of days for the last month. The Room's helpful customers made sure to point it out to the owner every time she came by; yet still it stood, broken and unlit.

Thumping music filtered out onto the sidewalk, where the BBR's only bouncer was doing his best to keep his eyes open. They called the big man 'Little Petey,' even though he insisted it was Cephas. Little Petey was a cornerstone of the community, known for helping anybody and everybody who needed it- no questions asked. This night job was the only thing paying the bills while he struggled his way through school while the sun was up. Nobody knew how the guy did all that and still managed to show up to synagogue every Saturday morning.

His body was the battering ram Superboy used to bash down the front door. Cephas went a-tumbling head over heels through the air until he crashed in the middle of a bachelor party. People scattered. The bartender pulled a first aid kit off the wall and rushed to check on the bouncer.

"Good evening scumbags and crooks-"

It wasn't exactly the scene he expected. This was the supervillain's clubhouse? No thugs had pulled their guns when he made his grand entrance. The DJ had abandoned his post rather than setup the beat for the fight to come. "Come on, guys, really? Nothing?" Maybe they knew better than to mess with the S, but still...so lame. Gotham's criminals would'a tried something. They were all psychos.

"I'm gonna be honest with you fellas, this ain't the night to piss me off. Got a real desire to beat the snot outta somebody, n' I'm gettin' the impression you're all too soft to take what I can dish out. So how's about you get your boss out here, alright? Lookin' for a lady named Knockout."

Somebody came marching toward him. Dark-haired woman, short, and dressed like a working professional. Didn't at all match the description in Cadmus's briefing but she looked pissed to all hell. "She doesn't go by that name anymore, asshole." She stuck a finger in Superboy's face. "And you have a lot of nerve assaulting my employees and destroying my property. I'll give you one chance to get out of here before I call the cops."

"What?" He blinked. "Sorry, just who'n the hell are you?" The audacity! He could count the number of people who'd talked to him like that on one hand, and none of 'em worked for the bad guys.

"I'm Liana Kerzner, this is my club, its my partner you're threatening, and you'll have to go through me before you lay a finger on her. Got it, punk?"

Superboy was still trying to compute everything she'd just said when a voice three rooms above his head drew his attention.

"Am I who you're looking for-"



The boy of dubious-consciousness went soaring up, up and away, leaving her alone with her partner for the time being. Knockout was a monster of a woman, scrapping just under seven feet tall and more built than an amazon: arms like cannons, muscles taut like steel cable, and thighs with the mass of neutron stars. She pumped an arm in the air. "Yes!" She hollered. "One crack unto the jaw and he is already on the ropes. They don't make Kryptonians like they used to, truly." She looked to Liana for agreement and found only scorn.

"What?"

"I had that!"

"I would beg to differ. That boy's hormones stunk of anger and violence. It was only a matter of time before he became trouble," she motioned to the missing front door, "more trouble, to be precise."

"Why- why are you wearing that?" Liana motioned to the faded green leotard, which left precious little to the imagination. "And you called yourself that again? Really, Kay?"

Knockout crossed her arms defensively. "My other attire is not suitable for battle, and- and that was what he knew me by! You're making a- what is the phrase- mountain out of this mole hill."

Liana grabbed Kay's arm. Her expression softened to sadness. "You said you were done, Kay. That was the deal. You hang up all this and I come back-"

"I know!" Kay turned, taking both of Liana's hands in her own. "I know, my ambrosia...my sweet nectar of the gods, I know. And I have, truly. But what else was I to do? What kind of woman would I be if I let you fight my battles? This is our life, and I will not surrender it without a fight."

A pause for consideration. The two stood, hand in hand, as Liana wrestled with those words. It felt like an eternity had passed before she spoke again. "Alright, alright. Go kick his ass for hurting our people. But that's the end of it."

"Yes! You shan't regret it." Kay leaned in for a kiss, only for Liana to let go and step back.

"Oh no, no no. Not rewarding this. Now go already!"


Five blocks down Metropolis, Delaware

'Ouch.'

Superboy plied himself out of the pavement. That hit packed enough punch to send him flying all the way outta the Slums! Now he was out in Hob's Bay, embedded in the parking lot of...the Ace? Wait, was this that highfalutin 'gentleman's club' that Rex was always going on about? And now he was thinking about what got Rex Leech's rocks off. Gross. So very gross.

Shaking the chill from his spine, Superboy stood on unsteady feet. Head was still throbbing. Nobody'd hit him so hard in his whole life. Sure, in-context that wasn't the longest period of time, but it sure felt significant to him. Nothing could ruin this moment, not even Rex's sex life.

Finally, finally! A real, bonafide, in-the-flesh supervillain. This wasn't carjackers, bank robbers or some loser with a third robotic arm. Knockout was one of the big players. Somebody who could trade punches with the big S without crumbling like a sack of potatoes. This was his chance to prove he was more than...than some third-stringer knockoff whose only purpose in life was to sell merch.

'Tonight's gonna be my big break.' He thought, deploying the camera drones on his belt with a tap of his finger. 'I'll show 'em. I'll show 'em all just who Superboy really is.'

A shape appeared in the sky above. A figure, draped in green, descending down to the street like a comet. She slowed to a stop just before her boots touched the asphalt. Hovering there, red mane whipping in the wind behind her, a barely concealed mix of rage and rapture on her face.

"So you're Knockout, Fury of the Apocalypse." He called out to her, trying to keep his voice from cracking. The pressure of the moment was getting to him. "Gotta be honest, the name's badass. Why's it spelled so weird, though? Or was Cadmus's tech guy totally wasted when he wrote up your dossier?"

She raised a brow, expression shifting. Confusion. "Have I fallen into such obscurity since retirement? Or perhaps you are an ignorant whelp who does not understand the ways of the world. Either way, allow me to educate you, boy. In my prime I served Darkseid, lord of the planet Apokolips, as one of his Furies: we were the tip of his spear, his honor guard. We scourged a thousand worlds in his name."

"That's..." Superboy held a clenched fist up. "So frickin' cool."

"Yes! I mean- what?" Knockout shook her head. "No, you dolt. I shan't never forget the horrors we committed. On Apokolips we were raised as beasts: mercy was punished, while cruelty-"

"No, yeah, don't get me twisted, that's real evil. You're a nasty piece of work. I'm just sayin' its a pretty, I'unno, metal backstory for my nemes-"

"-Is this all a game to you, boy? You ignoble, rash, petulant lecher-"

"Hey, I resent that last one."

"Then you are truly worthless. Fine, you wish to do battle?" Knockout slammed her gloves together, and the shockwave it produced broke every window for a hundred yards. "Let us test your mettle! This one is for Cephas!"
<Snipped quote by Cybermaxx>

No but there are these god-awful things known as teenagers.

Though I was 16 at the time so I was an adult, technically legally speaking.


Every thirteen year old I've ever known has more in common with the 10-12 range than the 14-18 range
<Snipped quote by Cybermaxx>

When you're 13 that's not childhood tho.

I'm only a couple of years older but I feel much older.


are you an adult at that point?? is Scotland still on that 1400s serf angle?
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