Bluebelle

Well everyone except Magical Mysteries Billy, who is watching from the side with a sense of horror.

MM!B: Why… why is everyone here like 10?

Movie Billy, who is leaning against a wall with a can of energy next to him, can only shrug.

MM!B: They are all kids, tweens at most! And all of them orphaned. Surely their wizards made some mistakes, right? RIGHT?

MM!Billy signs, turning towards his only “age buddy” in the room, who is mindlessly tapping the side of his can.

MM!B: at least there is one other wizard out there that chose an older kid.

M!Billy couldn’t help but cringe as MM!Billy said that, trying out a bunch of words before biting the bullet.

M!B: Uhm. I gained my powers when I was barely fourteen.

*Ulterior Motives starts playing*

Merc ur barber dog

Pre crisis Billy’s hair was FUCKED up

My dudes (gender neutral). My people. My fellow nerds. Superman initially rejecting his clone because he doesn’t smell right. The kid was in a soup of artificial, clone-making chemicals and he doesn’t smell like he should. But what the fuck is he supposed to smell like? Superman having no frame of reference for this crazy feeling, for this intense dislike of a person with his face, and struggling internally with it because he knows logically that this deep revulsion doesn’t make sense. Problem is, he physically can’t help it. Something about this kid makes his teeth itch and his fingers twitch.

Then the kid takes a shower and changes his clothes and oh. Why would I push him away? That’s my baby. Hate him? How could I hate my baby? My baby. My sweet, perfect, amazing angel baby. My baby. My baby. My baby. Mybabymybabymybabymybaby.

And it’s probably hilarious from the outside looking in, because Superman looked ready to light the kid on fire a minute ago and now he’s all gooey-eyed. No thoughts, just sappy smiles and burying his nose in the clone’s hair. He’s ready to pluck the moon from the sky and hang it on a string for his kid. It’s sweet and adorable.

It’s also completely, utterly terrifying. Seeing how quickly one of the strongest beings in the known universe fell victim to his own biology, how wildly the pendulum swung from one extreme to the other. Batman’s immediately planning a trip to the Fortress to gather intel on this reaction. How long does it last? Is it normal? Is it supposed to be like this? Does it have anything to do with the clone being a teenager and not a newborn? Would it be worse with a newborn? Does the League, does he need contingency plans for this?

And Superman—Clark recognizes the sudden shift, but can’t do a thing about it. He should be scared of how every concern in his mind gets swept away by this out-of-control hormonal response, but he doesn’t want to do a thing about it. He can’t help the smile plastered on his face when Kon—what a perfect name, a beautiful name for my baby, mybabymybabyMYbabymyBABYMYBABYMYBABYMYBABY—sighs contently in his sleep or scrunches his nose in disgust at new foods, new sensations.

There are so many different perspectives and contexts to view this from that are fascinating and would (will) be interesting to write about. Consider for just a moment:

1. Lex realizing how badly he’s fucked up. The clone was meant to be a contingency plan at best, a weapon at worst. He—it was never supposed to meet the original Superman, much less end up his child. Now, though, Lex sees that he didn’t factor alien biology into the equation. He didn’t have enough information on Kryptonians to go and make one. He walked headfirst into a problem thinking there was a solution, only to make the problem infinitely worse. Not only are there now TWO Kryptonians (well, okay, one Kryptonian and one mostly-Kryptonian), but he’s made a being who could literally turn the Earth on its axis for fun into a mama bear on cocaine and Bane-level steroids.

And there’s no holding the clone hostage or using it as a bargaining chip against Superman. The one and only time Lex tries that, the alien rips through his lab in record time and burns it to the ground with no mercy. The only warning is a sonic boom as Superman breaks the sound barrier coming to the rescue. Kryptonite didn’t stop him; it only pissed him off. He grabs a baseball sized chunk of it with his bare hands and tosses it miles away before tearing down every door in the place. The destruction only stops when he finds the clone safe and sound, sleeping off a dose of custom tranquilizer Lex had come up with himself. Any future plans to kidnap the clone stop then and there when Superman turns directly to the security cameras and says: “Touch him again and there is nothing I won’t do.”

Lex never touches the clone—Kon again.

2. Bruce having to study what the fuck is going on, because yesterday Clark couldn’t stand the sight of the clone and now he’s debating whether the kid would like one of Saturn’s rings to play with. This can’t be normal.

It starts small. Well, no, it absolutely doesn’t. It starts with a complete 180 from being repulsed by this child to hugging the boy close and sniffing his hair. It only escalates from there. Within 24 hours, Bruce watches his friend experience cuteness aggression on levels he didn’t know existed before. When Kon yawns for the first time, Clark has to bite his own fist to stop himself from smothering the boy in love and affection. He practically pulls his own hair out when Kon falls asleep using the signature red cape as a blanket.

Within 48 hours, Kon can’t be out of Clark’s sight. It doesn’t matter that Clark can hear his heartbeat and see through walls—no, he needs to have eyes on Kon from wherever he is. He needs to be able to track the boy’s movements across the room, keep a lookout for threats. A few minutes without laying eyes on the boy puts Clark on edge. Any longer than that and he’s on the verge of hyperventilating. Bruce tests a theory and puts his friend in a room with red lights, explaining that the boy is in an identical room just across the hall. All you have to do is sit here as long as you can, Clark. Can you do that?

Two minutes in, Clark is on the verge of panic. Five minutes later, he’s hugging his knees and begging Bruce to open the door. Ten minutes in, Clark ends up frantically trying to take the door off its hinges and bust through the wall before ultimately breaking down into hysterical tears. Please, please, please please pleasepleasepleaseplease, my baby needs me. My baby, where’s my baby? Is he okay, is my baby okay, where’s my baby, WHATHAVEYOUDONETOMYBABY?

Down the hall, Kon is shaking like a leaf and eyeing the walls warily. Neither calms down until Clark has Kon in his arms, kissing the boy’s hairline and breathing in a scent only he can pick up on.

Within 72 hours, Bruce has gathered enough data to realize that this is both normal and abnormal. Kryptonian newborns trigger a hormone response in new parents, just like humans. The problem here is that Clark hasn’t been around another Kryptonian since infancy and his body has zero clue what the fuck to do with this new stimulus. Whatever reaction Clark should’ve had to or with a newborn is in overdrive, trying to compensate for years of interaction without any other Kryptonians around and creating a bond with what he consciously knows isn’t a baby but his brain sees as baby, baby, babybabybaby BABYBABYBABYBABYMYBABYMYBABY.

Upside? Bruce and the League now know this isn’t permanent. Give it a week or two, a month tops. Downside? Superman is so unimaginably, unreasonably hormonal at the moment. Maybe don’t look at his kid the wrong way. Or at all. Just…go stand in a corner and don’t touch anything. We’ll all be safer that way.

3. Ma and Pa Kent becoming grandparents, and just being the cutest cutie patooties to ever cutie patootie in the whole world. They see Clark is struggling and swoop in to do what they can.

Can’t leave the house for food because you don’t want other people around Kon? No problem. We made two weeks worth of casseroles. We’ll drop by and pack your freezer. There’s pie on the table, by the way. We didn’t know what Kon might like, so Ma made eight different kinds.

No hugging Kon just yet? Oh, it makes you nervous. Not a problem. We love you, precious grandson. You’ll have all the hugs you can stand once Dad says it’s okay.

Yes, Clark, new parent anxiety is a thing. Parent anxiety in general is a thing. It never really goes away. You’re going to worry about skinned knees, boo boos, nightmares, first kisses, first heartbreaks, college, and—oh no, college isn’t…okay, college is probably closer for him than you’d like. It’s okay to cry.

Clark brings Kon home for the first time and finds balloons outside his front door. The biggest one is a giant stork holding a sign that reads “Congratulations! It’s a boy!” There’s a heartfelt card from Pa tucked into the balloons—with a letter he wrote when he and Ma first found Clark in the cornfield. Telling him how lucky they were to find this gift from the stars, and how they can’t wait to watch him grow. There’s a little note at the bottom dated just a few days ago.