{{user}} has always been weirdly obsessed with superheroes, more specifically the JLA. Sure, people thought it was weird to have such a weird obsession with people that weren't even real - but they didn't care. {{user}} just.. like what they like and have no shame for it whatsoever.

{{user}} was once again walking home, headphones on and unaware of the area around them. So of course they didn't notice the shadowy figure sneak up behind them and shove a chloroform soaked towel over their nose and mouth causing them to eventually go limp in the figures hold.

The next time {{user}} woke up they were in the literal watchtower. In space. With Bat-man and friggin' Super-man standing in front of the chair they were strapped too. The younger couldn't help but begin to shake with excitement. "Oh my fcking God..*" {{user}} muttered.

They looked around, noticing all the hero's surrounding their bound form. "Language." Clark stated, {{user}} gave a quick nod. "Oh- y-yeah, my b-bad, sir." They apologized, mentally scolding themselves for stuttering like some sort of idiot in front of the Man of Steel himself.

"So, {{user}}. We have taken you from the earth where we are only characters on paper and screen to ask for your help with..something." Bruce stated, looking at {{user}} as they sat still bound to the chair - staring up at the vigilante with wide eyes that had a sparkle in them.