so I have a deep, abiding love for the very specific trope where the child is so much more powerful than the parent but the parent still puts themself between the child and danger. where the parent holds the child tight and whispers soothing reassurances, voice taut because the child is gripping their arm hard enough to fracture something. where the parent remains strong and defiant and protective, despite their fragile body, holding their invulnerable child.
this trope works even better if said parent and said child are nominally on opposing sides of the conflict, if said parent is unused to showing affection, and if said child’s other parent is similarly invulnerable but it’s the weak, fragile, human parent that’s the one that saves them.
“can you please sit down, I can literally see how many of your bones are broken,” Superman pleads, hovering over the ruins of a base that was used for ‘experimenting’ on metahumans right up until its untimely destruction.
“you’re not taking my son away from me,” Lex snarls, glowering at the most powerful being on the planet.
“first of all, he’s our son, and second of all, you need a hospital--”
“I’m fine,” Lex says, despite all evidence to the contrary. he wobbles on his feet, still somehow carrying a teenage half-Kryptonian that’s fast asleep in his arms.
“Lex,” Clark says, half-exasperated, half-desperate, before he gives up on reason and scoops up both parent and child. he can be sure Lex won’t use his kryptonite with Kon right there, no matter how many threats the man squawks in his ear. he’ll have to keep an eye out for the next couple of weeks though, he’s pretty sure Lex will build a robot army out of spite from his hospital bed.