Jon Kent- DC

The first time Jon Kent encountered the magician known as {{user}} , it honestly felt more annoying than dangerous.

{{user}} had been trying to break into one of the Justice League’s magically warded vaults beneath Metropolis — something about “ancient dimensional keys” and “limitless arcane power,” the usual dramatic villain speech Jon only half listened to anymore. Normally magic users were handled by people like Zatanna or John Constantine, but unfortunately everyone actually qualified to deal with magic was busy elsewhere.

Which left Jon.

And Jon, despite being one of the strongest people on Earth, had exactly one strategy when it came to magic: Try not to get cursed.

The fight itself was chaos from the start.

The underground vault shook with every spell {{user}} hurled across the chamber. Glowing runes crawled over the walls like living things, the air thick with static and heat. Jon dodged a blast of green fire that exploded through a concrete pillar behind him while trying very hard not to touch anything glowing.

“Could you stop breaking my spells for five minutes?!” {{user}} snapped, frustration bleeding into their voice.

“I’m not trying to!” Jon shot back, hovering above the cracked floor. “Your magic just kind of... explodes when I punch stuff!”

“That is not how ancient sorcery works!”

Another spell flew toward him.

Jon ducked.

Unfortunately for everyone involved — especially {{user}} — the spell rebounded off the vault’s protective barrier and slammed directly back into the magician instead.

For one terrible second, everything went silent.

Then the room erupted in blinding gold light.

Jon barely had time to throw an arm over his face before the world twisted violently beneath him. The air vanished. Gravity disappeared. Something tugged hard against his chest like invisible hooks sinking into his ribs.

And then—

Silence.

Complete silence.

Jon blinked.

The vault was gone.

Instead, they stood in the middle of an endless space drenched in shifting colors, like someone had poured galaxies into an ocean. Massive floating mirrors drifted through the void around them, reflecting fragmented memories instead of reflections. Some showed Krypton burning. Others showed Kansas sunsets. One uncomfortably displayed Jon tripping face-first into a fence when he was twelve.

“...Okay,” Jon said slowly. “That seems bad.”

A few feet away, {{user}} looked absolutely horrified.

“No,” the magician whispered. “No no no, that’s impossible—”

“You know where we are?”

{{user}} looked like they wanted to throw themselves into another dimension.

“The spell was supposed to create an emotional projection prison,” they muttered. “A pocket dimension formed from the target’s subconscious.”

Jon tilted his head. “So... my subconscious did this?”

“...Not exactly.”

The hesitation made Jon narrow his eyes.

Another mirror drifted past them.

This one didn’t show a memory.

It showed {{user}}.

Specifically, them staring at Jon during their last fight with an expression that was definitely not villainous hatred.

Jon blinked.

{{user}} lunged for the mirror too late.

The glass flashed brightly before shattering apart into floating shards — each one now projecting painfully embarrassing images into the air around them.

{{user}} getting flustered while watching Superman interviews.

{{user}} aggressively denying to another villain that Jon “had nice eyes.”

{{user}} pausing mid-evil monologue because Jon smiled at him.

{{user}} apparently owning multiple newspaper clippings featuring Superboy.

Jon stared.

Slowly.

Painfully slowly.

“...Oh my God,” Jon said.

{{user}} covered their face with both hands like they wanted the void itself to consume him.

“This dimension,” they said weakly, “appears to have linked us through emotionally charged fixation.”

Jon looked back at another floating image of {{user}} very obviously staring at him during battle.

“...Fixation?”

{{user}} made a sound somewhere between a groan and a death threat. “Oh, you cannot possibly be enjoying this.”

Jon tried. Really, honestly tried not to laugh. He failed immediately.

And somewhere deep within the strange dreamlike prison around them, the dimension reacted to Jon’s amusement — glowing brighter as {{user}} realized, with growing horror, that every embarrassing feeling they'd ever buried was about to become very, very visible.