#vests-randomness

. . . I . . . wow, sorry, I'm having a moment of disassociation almost here, hahaha. okay, so

a) at LEAST one Kon's canonical reaction to clones getting treated like disposable lifeforms was going full supervillain dictator on MULTIPLE realities, so I think that one is best summed up by flashy gold accessories and the words "Black Zero"

and

b) do I . . . have FEELINGS on Star Wars. are feelings on Star Wars a thing that I have.

wow, time sure does fly.

Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones and confuses everyone

Match freezes, technically, and locks every single muscle and vein and nerve in his body before he can flinch.

Superman could decommission him from anywhere, so it's not like it matters how close he is.

the one where omegaverse fucks up Red Hood's life 💚

He hates fucking Batman. 

Goddamn obviously he does. 

“The fuck do you know about being dead, golden boy?” he bites off sharply. 

Dick knows plenty about it, he knows. But Dick hasn’t been it. 

Dani just makes incoherent choking sounds against Danny's shoulder, her body wracked with sobs and clinging to him as tight as it can and burrowed in as tight against him as it can get. She's still holding Superboy's hand-clutching Superboy's hand, and almost as desperately as she's clutching at Danny, which is . . . very desperately, yeah. Like. Very. 

Fuck, Tucker thinks, and feels like total crap about this. He needs to do something. He needs to do something. He–

“For the record, boo, I am an expert in raiding stupid labs. Kinda a specialty of mine, actually,” Superboy informs Dani. “Also, like, if you actually need to kidnap a Leaguer or two I could totally play bait for you. They'd buy that; I've been reliably informed that I'm a natural at getting my stupid ‘S’ clonenapped.”

Dani lets out a sob that sounds like she's just gotten eviscerated and then lifts her head just enough to look at Superboy, grinning painfully past all the snot and tears on her almost, almost unmelted face. 

Only “almost” unmelted.

Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this

Kara is asking herself a lot of questions right now, frankly. And she’s noticing a lot of little things that are sticking out to her, but she needs to actually think about those things; put them all in order in her mind and figure a few of them out. So–

“Room. Now,” she orders, short and sharp as an observation. Thirteen glares at her; Match doesn’t have any expression on his face at all. She doesn’t repeat herself this time, just clears her own expression and folds her arms and locks eyes with Thirteen to stare him down. He bristles, clenching his fists roughly. Match doesn’t visibly react at all and just stands there with military-perfect posture. 

Like . . . Superboy was fine with it, that Superman didn’t pay him all that much special attention or anything. Didn’t pay him all that much attention or anything. Superman already lets him wear the “S” and be “Superboy” and . . . and all that stuff. Let him make a living off what is, technically, his face and name and fame. Helped him out when Cadmus was being shitty a couple times, even, and at least tried to help him out when his DNA got all fucked-up and, like–unzipped after the Agenda’d gotten ahold of him, and . . . and like, that is attention. A lot more attention than Superboy really, like–earned, or whatever. And he knows he has to earn that kind of shit, because, like–obviously he does. Obviously he has to earn it. 

Superman doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do this. Jonathan said he couldn’t do it wrong, but, like–that’s not actually true, obviously. Like, obviously there’s ways to fuck it up, no matter what Jonathan and Martha think. They’re used to Clark, not–they had someone like Clark for a kid, not–not something like him. 

And that’s just–that’s not the same thing, obviously. 

Jonathan and Martha take him to the food trucks, and they actually do go through all three lines. Superman lets them pick what to order all three times, but they still ask him what he wants all three times. He doesn’t know why, when he doesn’t even know what tastes good or whatever. Like–obviously he doesn’t. 

“And what did Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor think of your system star and the pace of your courtship?” she inquires dryly, and Kal startles a little as he seems to remember people besides Lois Kal-El both exist and are in this conversation, then just barely flushes before smiling wryly at her. 

“Tell you once they've actually met,” he replies wryly and also shamelessly. Kara does not know how she's the problem cousin in this family.