kenny @kennycoree - Tumblr Blog

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ── 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘 !

◟ she/her. filipino. amateur writer.

⟡ masterlist fic recs jejemon

✴︎ currently writing for : jujutsu kaisen!

✴︎ all about my fics : mainly fluff and angst

I accept all fic requests, rants and headcanon reqs :3 my inbox is always open!

✴︎ what i don't do : noncon, incest, underage, or romanticization of SA. I personally am not ready nor want to write under that, so please do not bring up the topic

٠ ࣪⭑ i'm just here to improve my writing, and write about my interests, lol

@/𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝄃𝄃𝄀𝄁𝄃 2 0 2 4.

#✉️ — kenny texts #introduction #writers on tumblr #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #masterlist #I DONT HAVE A MASTERLIST YET LMAO

lordior

YOU MISSED MY HEART

000 - what are you doing?

synopsis: in which toji meets his little sister for the first time, and it's on the ledge of a bridge, and the few times after that, he decides it's time they both leave

tags: older brother!toji, suicidal themes, reader stands on the ledge, selective mutism

masterlist

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

toji was 12 when his sister was born.

one surprisingly from his own mother. honestly, he had assumed she was too old to have more. but she did. and it was a girl.

from what he has heard his old man was not happy about that. it didn't matter that she had an exceptional amount of cursed energy, apparent even from birth. he did not want a daughter, he had a few of those with the servants of the zenin clan. but the difference between them and her was she was born to his wife.

I spent a few minutes writing a toji fic only for it to not save because it had a format problem on tumblr. Literally all my work went to waste i hate my life

#✉️ — kenny texts #jjk x reader #jjk x you #toji #this is so bad omg #i was on a roll and iw as writing nonstop #why does this always happen to me

03owlyn

I summon all the trollhunters fans who is still active in fandom to look at these sketches I made.

Thank you for your attention

ahkaraii

prison cecil time travel AU [fancomic p.19]

yes, Brit canonically owns a strip club xD

ahkaraii

prison cecil time travel AU [fancomic p.18]

Both Mark and Cecil are Extremely American in certain ways, but of them both I think only Cecil would be a gun nut XD

sem24

Is Invincible Fascist Propaganda? (the comic) *major spoilers*

Or: Why I Don’t Like the Ending

I love superheroes. I grew up on them. But no genre is without it’s flaws, and this one has a very particular, very insistent flaw: it keeps flirting with Fascism. Sometimes knowingly. Sometimes with the bashful innocence of a golden retriever goose-stepping by accident.

At the heart of the superhero myth is the strongman fantasy: the Übermensch in tights. The “special” who stands above the ordinary, waging endless righteous war against “evil” others to protect “the innocent.” It’s baked right into the DNA.

If you doubt me, take one of the most beloved superhero films ever, The Incredibles. I adored it as a kid, but let’s be honest: it’s basically Objectivism for children. One of its central messages is that some people are just better, and it’s unfair to ask them to dim their brilliance for everyone else’s sake. Cue the iconic line:

“If everyone is super, no one is.”

Sounds inspiring until you realize it’s one step away from “some are born to rule.”

Now, I’m not saying The Incredibles was designed as propaganda. But propaganda doesn’t need to announce itself with a swastika flag. It can seep in through structure and payoff. There’s a brilliant breakdown of this in a long (but worth it) video essay on fascist media, which explains how propaganda can masquerade as its own critique.

The gist:

A film can appear 90% anti-fascist, and still end up completely fascist by the last act, if the final moral turn flips sympathy toward the ideology it claimed to reject.”

The example given is Hero (2002). Most of that movie follows a man trying to end tyranny by killing the Emperor. The narrative trains us to root for him, until the ending, when he decides, actually, the Emperor was right all along. His submission is framed as noble. The title itself tricks us: Hero isn’t about defiance, but obedience.

That’s how ideological sleight-of-hand works: by seducing the viewer first, then quietly swapping the moral cards while the audience’s guard is down.

Which brings me back to Invincible.

For most of its run, Invincible looks like it knows exactly what it’s doing. It seems to get the fascist subtext baked into superhero stories, and to be actively deconstructing it. The Viltrumites are portrayed as what they are: space fascists. Eugenic, imperialistic, obsessed with purity and domination.

Mark Grayson, our protagonist, is the moral counterpoint, the boy who rejects his father’s genocidal worldview. For almost a hundred issues, the comic insists that empathy and humility are stronger than brute force.

And then comes the ending.

Mark becomes God-Emperor of the universe. Okay, technically “benevolent ruler of the Viltrumite Empire,” but let’s not kid ourselves. The empire isn’t dismantled, it’s rebranded. Colonization doesn’t stop, it just gets a PR glow-up. And the story treats all of this as progress.

Let’s break it down:

• Nolan’s Restoration. Mark’s father is “restored” to his rightful place as ruler through bloodline, literally a return to monarchy framed as moral resolution. The comic treats this like healing the galaxy’s wound, as if the problem wasn’t the system of hereditary autocracy itself, just the wrong guy in charge. Once the “good king” returns, the empire can be great again.

• Mark’s Succession. After Nolan’s death, Mark inherits the crown. But instead of dismantling empire, he leans into it. His rule is “benevolent,” sure, but it’s still imperialism with better manners. He becomes the cosmic equivalent of a colonizer who insists he’s bringing peace, not subjugation. Planets are still being folded into an expanding empire, they’re just doing it with smiles and handshakes now.

• The Destruction of Democracy. This is the kicker. Mark literally destroys a functioning intergalactic democracy, wipes it out, because it’s “corrupt” and “inefficient.” And the narrative frames this as the right thing to do. The democracy’s biggest crime? Being slow. Debating too much. Not acting decisively enough. The comic rewards him for choosing decisive strength over collective deliberation, textbook fascist logic dressed up as heroic pragmatism.

• The Language of Benevolent Strength. The final chapters drip with that “we rule for your own good” rhetoric. The empire is now “peaceful,” the conquest “orderly.” The Viltrumites are still an occupying force, but one that talks about unity and harmony. It’s space colonialism in moral cosplay “saving” the galaxy from chaos by ruling it. The same narrative logic that justified European empires, now projected onto alien worlds.

And because we’ve spent so long sympathizing with Mark, because the story built him up as the moral heart, we buy it. We’re told this is the good ending. The problem isn’t power, the comic whispers, it’s who wields it.

That’s the same ideological sleight of hand Hero pulled. The anti-fascist becomes the fascist, and the story calls it growth. It begins as a rejection of tyranny and ends up reinforcing it.

By its final issue, Invincible doesn’t dismantle the strongman myth; it crowns him king of the cosmos. It doesn’t reject empire; it canonizes it as destiny. And it doesn’t defend democracy; it vaporizes it for daring to be slow.

Dunno if this take is unique or a common critique. The ending really bothered my ever since I read it. I just couldn’t figure out why.

Then I stumbled across an interview with the creator Robert Kirkman, calling Jeff Bezos a “great man” And I was like huh the politics in Invincible being against strong-men, cult of personality leaders does not seem to line up with that statement. Plus it just really skeeved me out.

It didn’t click for me, for years. Until I read Watchmen and saw how it dealt with the baked in conservatism in comics, (and masterfully deconstructed it) it still didn’t completely click though, until I saw that video, stewed on it for a few hours and then a lightbulb went off in my head.

But hey, I’m completely open to critique. I know this is a fairly out-there take and I’m writing this at almost 2 A.M. while the idea is still fresh in my mind. So who knows whether this even turns out coherent.

Anyway, I hope they change the ending in the cartoon.

Besides that, the ending sentiment of answering that question posed all the way back in the very beginning about what Mark will have in 500 years, is beautiful.

Ultimately, this is just an observation and I don’t want to ruin anyone’s enjoyment of either the comic or show.

(And when I say the Superhero genre has baked in fascist elements, I am in no way denying, how it has also been genuinely used to critique those very systems, it’s complicated.)

#invincible #mark grayson #invincible comic #fascism in fiction #i really want someone to explain this to me in more detail

hero-villian-blog

The Viltrumites Are Fascist

So a problem I've noticed starting to arise when it comes to how people talk about the Viltrumites is one I've seen show up in other discussions about media. People will often think it would be nice to live under Viltrumite rule, that the Viltrumites aren't that bad, or suggest Oliver asking if Mark thinks Omni-Man had a point is somehow valid. Alongside some people not necessarily calling the Viltrumites what they are by merely calling them imperialist, and by extension downplaying what they are.

The Viltrumites are clearly and blatantly fascist, and because of this the claims that they aren't that bad or it would be nice to live under their rule is dumb to say. This is something that I have seen in other discussion about media whether it be Starship Troopers or Helldivers. Where people either miss the point or are drawn in to liking certain fictional groups because they agree with what they are saying, regardless of satire or if the character is meant to be a bad person. A similar thing has happened in Warhammer 40K, where people miss over the fact that almost every single group is overtly meant to be a variant of fascist, and that Space Marines are included in this. Or how people are drawn in to liking someone like Homelander and Rorschach thinking they are actually good people. Heck this has even happened with Star Wars when people have claimed the Empire did nothing wrong, ignoring who they blatant represent. They aren't called Storm Troopers for no reason.

The Viltrumites are no different, they are fascist plain and simple. So far we have seen them straight up perform eugenics on their own species, in a might makes right mentality. Such practices is more than likely the reason why there are less than 50 "pure" Viltrumites left.

The Viltrumites as view themselves as having a right to rule over other species, because they are somehow "superior." As often the perform a specific Undertale route on those they subjugate. This is further seen in how they are selective in what alien species they will have relationships with, as they need to look like Viltrumites. This ties into their practice of eugenics. Because of their elitist mindset they have contempt for those they perceive as weak. They are also militaristic, you have how they treat resistance, and a kind of of cult of heroism. In others words, they meet a lot of the points. Written by Eris

guideaus

ok, the other day i said invincible tries to be better than the comic w some social issues stuff, but it actually still keeps the making fun of progressives by making them villains thing, even in 2025, before things started getting conservative again. which normally would be... whatever, but it notably does not have the same types of jokes for the opposite side of the political spectrum. i just kinda noticed it after rewatching invincible and then watching creature commandos which opens with this:

which kinda makes it clear which side they're on. even flag here, who was one of the misogynistic characters in the show, doesn't approve. meanwhile, i dont think you'd see any villain like them in invincible

not-an-anagram

ok but like I feel like we need to talk about the internalized ablism in the background of Rudy's entire character. like the fact that he specifically choses a clone body based on an able-bodied conventionally attractive person to connect with other people under the assumption that it would be impossible to form bonds in his original body.

johannestevans

have to wonder if my old friend's abusive husband (the reason we don't talk to any of those friends anymore) knows that the character in invincible he's most like, being a big fan of the comics and the tv show, is literally nolan grayson

invincible is a genuinely good series and part of what makes it so good is that like. it is a horrifically genuine and impactful exploration of abuse and fascist ideology, and esp like. the desires of abusive men to "punish" those who they believe to be their inferiors for "weakness"

omni-man is so self-obsessed and so desperately concerned with his own superiority that whenever his selected few - his friends, his son, other loved ones - don't immediately bow down to his "correct" opinions, he either shuts down or flies into a violent rage

bc he just HAS to be in control

pizza564738

A Sneak Peak into Prisoner's Dilemma

Here is a brief snippet of the current fic I am working on called Prisoner's Dilemma. A fanfiction where Cecil is a little more broken after everything he’s been through. He never accepts Radcliffe’s offer. Never gets out of prison. Somehow, he still manages to get dragged into the Grayson family drama.

Life in prison made sense. It was easy and simple. Everything had structure and Cecil ensured it stayed that way. When Cecil first arrived here over a decade ago, Payton Penitentiary had been a chaotic hell hole where any day could be your last. A place where the powerless didn’t last long. Hell, he’d taken the bed of someone whose remains had to be scrapped away into a bucket. It was still a hell hole but at least you weren’t gonna get your head caved in for looking at the wrong person funny.

Cecil accepted his life here. Radcliffe had stopped trying to convince him to lead the GDA years ago. He wasn’t interested in that life anymore. He couldn’t be responsible for people. Not after those seventeen people. He thought about them every day, repeating their names in his head like a mantra. Cecil knew he would never be a hero not like he dreamed of when he was young wrapped in a threadbare blanket in a too-cold and still house, his head buried in comics and papers telling the real stories of heroes like Immortal, War Woman, and Brit. Back when he still believed in good and evil. Heroes and Villians. Back when the world was black and white and not the monotone greys of Payton Penitentiary. But that didn’t mean he was willing to become the person Radcliffe claimed the world needed him to be.

He was willing to carry out the rest of sentence in the only way he knew how—by keeping order in the place where order had no right to exist. Becoming top dog of this place hadn’t been easy. But Cecil wasn’t going to allow a bunch of superpowered criminals push him around.

Cecil had learned early on that prison wasn’t about strength, not really. Strength helped, sure, but it wasn’t what kept you alive. What really kept you alive was control. Knowing who to push, who to pull, and when to let things settle on their own. Payton Penitentiary had been a place where people died for the smallest things—a misstep in the yard, an insult thrown in the cafeteria, a wrong glance at the wrong person.

Cecil had changed that.

He built something here—not a kingdom, because he wasn’t that vain, but a structure. A system. He made sure people who followed the rules lived, and those who didn’t? They got put down fast. It took years, but eventually, people listened. Even the ones who shouldn’t have.

Titus was proof of that.

"Boss," a deep voice rumbled from behind him.

Cecil glanced over his shoulder at the massive light blue-skinned man looming in the doorway. Titus barely fit through the damn thing, ducking his body so his massive frame didn’t crack the top of the doorframe. He had been a monster when Cecil met him—pure rage packed into a body too strong for its own good. Back then, Titus killed without thinking, without reason. But now? He wasn’t exactly soft, but he followed Cecil’s rules.

That was the thing about monsters. You could teach them to listen if you spoke the right language.

"What is it?" Cecil asked, dragging his cigarette from his lips.

Titus crossed his massive arms, shifting his weight with a grunt. "New fish comin’ in."

Cecil flicked the ash off his cigarette. "Since when do you care about fresh meat?"

Titus shrugged, the motion making his massive shoulders roll like shifting tectonic plates. “You’ll wanna see this one.”

Cecil sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn’t give a shit about new prisoners anymore. Once, maybe, he would’ve scoped out fresh arrivals, decided where they slotted into his carefully maintained order. But after years inside, after clawing his way to the top of this hellhole, after turning chaos into something resembling civilization—what more was there to do?

Still, if Titus thought this was worth his time, that meant something.

“Alright,” Cecil muttered, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Let’s see what poor bastard they’ve tossed in today.”

They made their way through the cell block, the heavy steel doors groaning as they passed. Other prisoners saw them coming and stepped out of the way. Even the ones with powers, the ones who thought they were untouchable, kept their distance.

Cecil had earned that.

He had earned all of it.

Titus led him past the cafeteria, through the back corridors where they kept the new arrivals before processing. Cecil expected to see the usual—some bruised-up thug with too much mouth and not enough brains, or another idiot who thought they could take over what he had built here.

Instead, what he saw made him stop cold.

Because standing in the dim light of the processing area, small and terrified, was a child.

A kid.

A kid who couldn’t have been older than eight, wearing clothes too big for his small frame, fists clenched at his sides as if pretending he wasn’t scared when everything about him screamed that he was.

Cecil felt something settle in his gut—something dark, something sharp.

He turned to the nearest guard, voice like ice.

"The fuck is this?"

The guard—a young recruit, probably fresh out of whatever hellhole Radcliffe had picked him from—stammered, shifting under his glare.

"Orders from the GDA," the guard mumbled. "Director Radcliffe’s orders."

Cecil’s jaw clenched. Of course it was. Radcliffe’s games had always been cruel, but this? This was something else.

"Who is he?" Cecil asked, voice low.

The guard swallowed. "Mark Grayson."That name meant nothing to Cecil. But it would. Because even though he didn’t know it yet, this kid was going to change everything.

hotbanananaa

two

"So .. you're new to this, right?" Eve questioned, turning her head to Mark who was sitting beside her.

Clark, still a bit tired from the alien invasion yesterday, was taking a small nap.

A small nap on Mark's shoulder, resting his head as Mark made sure not to move too much.

Mark didn't show it but he was freaking the fuck out.

It was THE, THE Superman who was sleeping against his shoulder though snapped out of his thoughts.

Mark looked down at his hands.

"Uh.. I just got my powers. That was my first big fight."

Mark let his hands fall between his open legs as Eve placed a hand on his other shoulder, her voice full of understanding.

"Ah, okay. Explains a lot. Still, not bad for a rookie!"

Though Mark didn't look convinced.

"Are you kidding? I froze out there. People got hurt– well could have but that's because Superma– Clark swooped in!"

Eve interrupted Mark before he could continue as he turned to face her.

"People escaped because of you and Clark. And everyone freezes their first time. I used to throw up before every fight, barf my guts out."

Mark let out a soft chuckle as he looked at Eve.

"Really?"

Eve turned to him as she gave him a mischievous glance before fully turning her head to look ahead.

"Like a fire hydrant. You'll get used to it. The fights, not the barfing."

Mark's eyes glance away as he also looks ahead with her.

"..I just... It wasn't what I expected. I figured I'd punch some aliens, and they'd go home."

Eve stared at Mark for a moment, her expression filled with the same sympathetic look.

"It's not how it looks on tv."

Mark glanced at Eve, he, by habit, rubbed the back of neck. The movement made Clark stir awake as he rubbed his eyes as he leaned up straight which made Mark feel an absence of warmth.

"No shit.."

For a moment, both Eve and Mark looked ahead to look at the horizon, Eve leaning back. Mark put his hands together on his lap, shutting his eyes.

Clark yawned as he stretched before his eyes, glance at Mark and Eve, as he followed their gazes.

Was there supposed to be something he was also supposed to look at?

"Thanks."

"I charge 250 an hour, so does Clark."

"Huh? I do?"

"Mhm, maybe even more since you had him resting on your shoulder."

Eve held out her hand to Mark as if expecting money to be placed on her palm.

Clark, who was still a bit disoriented, blinked confused.

Mark stared at Eve in pure bewilderment as she got up, and motioned to Clark.

He obliged as he stood up as well.

"Now I'm kidding." Eve spoke, her voice filled with amusement.

Eve swept a few strands of her hair as she stared down at Mark, who was still sitting down on the rooftop ledge.

"You are new to this."

She then picked up her bag, slinging it on.

"Why don't you come by and meet the Team after school?" Eve offered.

Then Eve turned to Clark.

"What about you? Are you stopping by too?"

Clark hummed as he thought about the offer.

He had helped the 'Teen Team' on some occasions but he wasn't an official member by any means.

"Mmh, sure."

Mark scratched the back of his neck, he also was standing, seemingly got up when Eve was talking to Clark.

"Teen Team? I dunno .. I heard they were only everyone's fourth favorite."

Eve let out an amused huff as Mark matched her sarcasm before starting to walk off.

"Meet me out front after class, Invincible."

She then hopped down from the rooftop ledge and flew away.

Mark walked closer to the ledge as he watched Eve drift farther from his view.

Then Mark cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So .."

Mark's eyes trailing to the curl that delicately sat on Clark's forehead.

"Mark."

"I.. uh yeah..?"

Clark's hands take Mark's hands, his fingers tightening just a bit around Mark's.

"I heard what you were talking about with Eve.. I know it may be hard, especially since you didn't think you did well yesterday."

Clark began, his voice soft and low, still groggy from sleep.

"But you did, Mark. More than you think."

Mark went to open his mouth but nothing came out.

"You showed up. That is what matters, anyone can be strong when everything's easy but when things get bad.. Really bad.. Loud and messy.. And people are scared, simply showing up is when it counts the most."

Mark gulped, staring at Clark, trying his best not to stare too hard at Clark's smile or more specifically his lips.

Or the dimples his smile formed.

Or that curl that had the audacity to fall just right.

Clark didn't seem to notice Mark's ogling as he simply leaned a little closer.

"You're there, trying to help. That tells me everything I need to know about the kind of hero you're going to be, Mark."

Mark could barely register what Clark was saying as his brain short circuitied for a moment.

Clark, Superman, was holding his hands with such tenderness, and smiling at him like he was the only thing that mattered.

"You're not alone in this."

Clark added, gently letting go of Mark's hands.

"You've got help now, Eve, me, we'll figure it out together."

Mark squeaked out a nervous chuckle, still caught somewhere between awe and heat rising to his cheeks.

"You know.. Uh.. you are really good at this whole comforting thing..!"

Clark cracked a toothy grin, showing more of his dimples to Mark.

"Hm. Well, I'm only doing what anyone would do."

Mark cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, his voice quieter.

"Thanks though.. Clark."

Clark smiled again as he tilted his head to the side.

"Anytime, Invincible."

"Give me your phone."

"Wha–"

Clark seemed to smile at Mark's confused expression.

"I'm going to give you my number."

"Y–your number? I mean– sure– yeah! You want mine too?"

"Of course."

Mark nodded rapidly as he fumbled as his hands dug into his pockets, trying to find his phone.

Before Mark managed to pull it out, though almost dropping.

Clark waited patiently.

Mark laughed nervously as he handed Clark his phone.

Clark softly tapped on the screen as he handed Mark his phone back, before he grabbed his own phone and handed it to Mark.

Mark stared at it for a moment before grabbing it as he fumbled to type in his number, then clearing his throat.

"You know, we could team up. I mean I bet it's hard work to save kittens from trees.. Might need a helping hand like Invincible?"

Clark hummed as Mark handed him back his phone.

"Alright, just me a call. I'll always answer."

Mark clutched his phone as he nodded with a dorky smile.

"So.. I'll see you later..? With Eve to meet the team?"

Clark smiled as he nodded.

Mark watched Clark turn around and flew off, a gentle breeze washing over Mark's face.

――――――――――――――――

Guess whos back

hotbanananaa

prologue

You know how the story goes.

There was a planet called Krypton, a planet that was collapsing.

A man named Jor-El, knowing the fate of his home's doom, tried to warn the Kryptonian Council but unfortunately his concerns were ignored.

Not losing hope, he built a spacecraft and sent his infant son to another planet called Earth.

Jor-El along with his wife, Lara stayed on Krypton, and died in the aftermath when the planet exploded.

The spacecraft landed in rural Kansas, where it was found by a passing couple named Jonathan and Martha Kent. They immediately took the child in, adopting him and raising him like their own.

They gave him the name, 'Clark Kent.'

――――――――――――――――

The Kryptonian, now the age, 8, was playing near the porch.

Martha was cooking in the kitchen, making her homemade pie that smelled heavenly.

Jonathan was sitting on his rocking chair, reading a newspaper while keeping a watchful eye on the Kryptonian child, who just found out he had these special abilities.

They first found out when Clark was stuck on the roof of the barn, accidentally slipped but instead of falling to the ground.

He floated mid air, just mere inches from the ground as he started to fly around.

The couple couldn't believe their eyes at first but got used to seeing their son flying around, it made chores go by very quickly.

Though the quiet peace wouldn't last long.

――――――――――――――――

One day, a black SUV pulled up the long dirt driveway to Kent's home.

Jonathan, who was outside fixing the fence, making sure to keep watch of the krypton child doing flips in the air, felt a prickle of unease as he noticed the vehicle pull up.

"Clark, on your feet."

Clark paused as he saw the unease on Jonathan's face as he stopped doing flips and set himself down on the ground.

A man in a dark suit emerged out of the vehicle, his expression unreadable. He looked around, before his eyes landed on Jonathan.

"Mr. Kent, I presume?" the man stated, his voice calm, too calm.

Jonathan nodded as he moved Clark behind him protectively.

"My name is Cecil Stedman. I'm with the Global Defense Agency, GDA for short. I would like to talk with you about your son."

Jonathan's blood ran cold.

Martha, who was inside, alerted by the sudden quiet, stepped onto the porch.

"Mrs. Kent." the man, Cecil greeted.

"Our son is none of your business, Mr. Stedman." Jonathan replied, his voice firm.

Martha walked over, she was confused, what was going on.

She turned to Clark who went to her side, hugging her leg as she softly ran her hand through his hair.

Though Cecil didn't flinch.

"With all due respect, Mr. Kent. A child with powers and not from here, tends to become the GDA's business."

Martha gasped, pulling Clark close to her.

"He's a child. Just a boy.."

Cecil's gaze slowly became softened as he sighed.

"I understand your worries. Believe me, I do. But you have to understand where I come from. Your son possesses abilities only one can hope to have, it could help this world or .. destroy it."

Cecil let out another sigh.

"What he needs is guidance. Protection. And frankly, something that goes beyond what a single family can give, however loving, cannot provide."

"Protection?" Jonathan scoffed.

"From whom? From what?" What are you trying to get at?"

"From those who would find him, who are less than kind and exploit him." Cecil said.

"This is only the beginning, and he's only beginning to grasp it. The world is a dangerous place, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Kent? More dangerous than you can imagine."

Cecil paused, letting his words sink in.

"We're not here to take your son away from you. We want to help him to understand his abilities. We can train him. To ensure he grows up not just a powerful asset, but a hero."

Clark peeked his head behind Martha's leg.

Hero.

That single word resonated deep within his young mind.

He can be like those guys in those comics saving the day.

His parents had always taught him to be kind, about helping others, doing good for others.

And that word, 'hero,' felt like a culmination of everything they preached.

Jonathan and Martha exchanged a long, worried glance at each other.

They loved the boy like their own, but they knew Cecil's words were true, it struck a bit of fear for the future but hope.

Hope that their son could thrive and use his gifts for good, like they had always taught him.

"You'll really do that?" Martha questioned, her voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, we will provide the resources, the training, and the secure environment for him. We will help him understand how to use his powers responsibly. He could be humanity's greatest hope but he needs our help to get there.

Cecil then looked down at Clark as he kneeled.

"You wanna be a hero, kid?"

"Mmh.. I want to help and .. and I'll give it my all!"

Cecil let out an amused hum.

"That's what I like to hear– ah.. You got a bright kid, Mr. and Mrs. Kent."

Cecil then blinked when he felt arms wrap around him as Clark hugged him as he hesitantly patted his back, slowly relaxing as he looked up at Jonathan and Martha.

――――――――――――――――

The city jolted under the impact of a giant monster's attacks.

Screams of civilians and the sounds of buildings crumbling.

A mother ran through the crowd but bumped into another which made her lose her grip on her daughter's hand.

The little girl tried to call after her mom but in that desperation, her foot was pinned beneath a crack in the ground. Her frantic cry was drowned by the monster's screeched roar, its shadow falling over the little girl.

The child cried hopelessly before squeezing her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.

But it never came.

The little sniffed as she managed to gather enough courage to peek.

She saw a figure who stopped the descending foot before it could crush her.

The figure used their strength to push back the monster before moving with breathtaking speed, and guiding the monster's fall to the ground and easing it to the ground gently, ensuring no further destruction.

Those previously frozen scrambled to safety.

The mother seemed to notice her empty hand as she looked around frantically, before shielding her eyes from the gold light, but she could discern a curse of a soft smile. The figure floated down, landing softly, and surveyed politely through the dazed, staring faces.

Though he appeared a bit young, his voice carried a steady, calm.

"Is everyone okay?"

Some civilians, still trembling, managed a nod.

Some were hiding behind the rubble as they stared at the figure.

The figure walked directly to the stuck girl, crouching down.

"Hey there, hey .. It's okay.. Deep breaths. Just a few deep breaths for me, alright?"

The little girl let a few tears slip, the adrenaline of fear still in her system but still she complied as she took deep breaths but took the figure's hand who squeezed hers in response.

While the little girl was breathing, the figure managed to get her foot unstuck.

Then, pulling her into their arms as the girl realized she wasn't stuck anymore before her gaze got fixated on a single, dark curl that fell across their forehead.

She reached up, her hands gently playing with it.

The girl's mother slipped out of the crowd as she cried out.

"My baby.. Oh my baby.."

The figure softly smiled and gently passed the girl into her mother's embrace.

The mother sobbed as she cradled her daughter as she choked out a 'thank you' over and over.

But before the figure could turn, got stopped by the mother who tugged on his cape.

"I.. thank you.. Truly.. What do you go by.."

The figure smiled.

"I'm Superman."

――――――――――――――――

Hoping and praying that my girl yuka doesn't die...if she does i'm kms

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk modulo #jujutsu kaisen modulo #modulo spoilers #yuka okkotsu #shes so beautiful #gege what are you planning #DONT TAKE HER AWAY

spicy30

Y'all ever see like a premise with so much potential, and then you read it and they sold tf out of it💔 Shit makes me so mad, like MOVE Imma write it my damn self. Lemme show you how its done 😭

UNCLE TOJI.

toji fushiguro & reader

platonic headcanons of toji as your uncle!

Uncle Toji comes around once in a blue moon at family gatherings, but never staying for long. Each visit, you remember seeing him wear the same black shirt and sweatpants over and over again, as if he didn't have another pair of clothes. Not to mention that you'd always find him either eating or drinking. Or even having both in hands.

No one really talks to Toji, and Toji doesn't talk unless spoken to, either. So when interacting, it's usually a miss. Even as a kid you've always wondered why everyone ignored him, or how some of your family members weren't keen on inviting him. He looks scary, sure, but the one time you spoke to him he just seemed like any other person. Like someone who just wanted to be acknowledged. But maybe not.

Despite Toji's looks and how he acts, he doesn't drink anything with alcohol like the other adults. When he's drinking something, it's juice, soda, or water—pretty much anything that isn't alcohol. You have seen him take a smoke break or two at the side of the house before, though, far away from the kids and everyone, really. You caught him once, and he had jokingly offered you to smoke as well, then immediately declining when you actually wanted to.

He's also surprisingly well versed and knowledgeable on certain subjects and topics, and you would've never found out if he hadn't seen you studying. He's good at math and history, and helps you understand the terms by using short, simple words. One time, he had given you information on history for your project after just one look."I didn't know that happened," you'd say, and he would provide you with a low chuckle, amused. "Pretty bad, huh?"

He doesn't look like the type, but he remembers things easily. Except for names. And it's weird because he remembers a lot of movies, new and old, their titles and the actors that starred in it. You started to suspect that he either doesn't put the effort to remember other people's names, or just purposefully forgets. Either way, uncle Toji is confusing.

Like everyone in your cursed family, Toji is nowhere near a good person. He feels cracked, forever in shards, unable to fit back together. Everyone seems to notice. And everyone seems to ignore it.

He's intimidating and strong, but at the same time he can look the opposite, even with his physique. Everyone seems to ignore it. To look away, to whisper and judge. To laugh and mock what they created.

And sometimes it hurts you, too, knowing you could never say the things you want to. You were, after all, still a mere child. And words from someone so young wouldn't do anything, no matter how comforting you could be.

Speaking of comfort, Uncle Toji brings comfort to a lot of the kids in the Zenin family. Which was weird, because the adults do not trust him with a lot of things. All they do is ridicule him, either behind his back, or subtly. Yet even though Toji was confusing, he was more comforting than the fathers and mothers the children belonged to. You could see that he never really minded, gaze softening ever so slightly despite his hesitance.

"You should be a father." You told him out of the blue, causing the man to cough, choking on his spit. "What makes you say that?" A hum. "You're nice." Then a pause. "I wish you were my father instead."

Those were one of the rare times his gaze softened in the Zenin household.

@/𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝄃𝄃𝄀𝄁𝄃 2 0 2 5

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