📚📖📚

It drove them mad to see such a difference between them, and thus, none of the Waynes noticed Danny's side project to get home.

The Waynes gave him a giant room and helped set up a fake Identity for him while they worked on getting him home. To the public, he was Danny Kane, a long-lost relative recently coming to Bruce for help.

Thanks to the support of Jacob and Kate, they agree to make it seem that Jack Kane- Danny's made-up father- was the result of Bruce's material grandfather having a fling after his wife's death. Jake was hidden from the public eye but had his father's financial support until he was an adult.

Jack was never bitter and told Danny stories of his wayward father, filled with love to prove it. These stories inspired Danny to seek out the remaining Kanes after Jack's untimely death, which led him to Bruce as Martha Wayne nee Kane's son.

The day Danny would be sent home, the Waynes would fake his death, and no one would be the wiser that Danny Kane never existed.

Fine by Danny

. He only planned to stick around long enough to get his ship ready and pinpoint a location that had the vile between the living and dead thin enough to slice his way back to the Ghost Zone.

Unlike Wulf, who could open portals wherever he wanted, Danny had to find points weak enough to punch a hole through. He knows his parent's portal was way out of his set of skills, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give anyone the idea to build their own here. Two percent of portals were already two too many.

He mostly hung around the house- with someone always close by in a poor attempt to hide the fact they were watching him. Most of the time, Danny was either lazing around the house, eating and sleeping, and it felt like a costly vacation.

He refused to help on the coms when the Bats went out to kick ass, even after Dick offered to sit in front of monitors and relay information to the heroes like he was offering the chance of a lifetime.

This seems to disturb everyone else in the house except for Alfred.

If anything, the fact Danny straight-up refused to put on tights and rush into night to fight crime made Alfred adore him. The butler claimed he was worried everyone in the family would forget what everyday life was supposed to feel like.

A few Waynes couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the concept.

"You're not interested at all?" Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He was among the few who thought Danny was suspicious for not wanting to risk his life to fight the corrupted system.

"Nah, man, I'm good here. I got my nachos, I got a movie room and I got the softest bathrobe ever bathrobe." Danny snuggles more profoundly into the pink plush robe that Steph had lent him. "Why would I want to ruin any of these? Sides, I can't even throw a punch."

".....There has never been a single alternative Bruce Wayne that wasn't involved in this life in some way. If not as a hero then he was a villain. Bruce as a villain is one of the most dangerous things that can ever happen across the multiverse" Tim reveals grimly. "We've won every single encounter but only by the skin of our teeth."

"Damn. Let me guess. You guys beat the evil Bruces by sending his kids after him."

"Yes."

"Problem solve. You already know you can kick my ass, so if I try anything, you can take me out, right?" Danny doesn't wait for a answer. He turns away from the teenager to stare at the movie screen showing his picked movie. "I can do nothing but tremble before your bat might."

Tim steps into his line of sight. "I mean it. You do anything to harm this family and will regret it."

"Does that mean I can't bite Jason again? That sucks. It's the only way I can get him to stop trying to drag me to galas. He wants to scare the other rich people with my poor people's manners."

Tim's lip twitches and Danny knows he's fighting to keep his face under control. "You didn't have to lock your jaw in like that."

"I really did. Jason tested me."

Tim tilts his head. "You don't really feel like Bruce. You look just like him at fifteen. Alfred says you act just like him. But for the last three weeks, you've been trying really hard to make it seem like you're okay with doing nothing."

"I am comfortable doing nothing."

"I think you're lying," Tim says, moving closer to stare down into Danny's eyes with frankly a manic glare. Danny's core flares up with the sense of challenge he finds in that dark blue gaze.

Which is a first for a human, and frankly is terrifying. If Tim had been a ghost he would have easily been an Ancient assistant or a baby Ancient. He has to be able to match Danny's power like this. Holy shit.

"I think your parents didn't give you enough love as a child, and now you seek approval from everyone around you while trying to push everyone away because you are too scared to make yourself valuable. You find yourself in an endless loop of self-doubt and self-hate by doing both simultaneously." Danny blurts. He watches Tim freeze, then winces. "Shit, sorry, the psychoanalyze came out as a reflection. Forget that."

Tim is still frozen in a way Danny recognizes as someone hearing something challenging to come to terms with. This is why he needs to break the habit of using Jazz's psyche training as a weapon.

He forgets not everyone insults each other with their deepest insecurities. That's just how he and Jazz love.

"...Do you want to watch the Grey Ghost Marathon with me?" He asks after a long pause. Tim closes his eyes before plumping down next to him.

"I like that."

Neither mention Jason, who is gasping in the last row of seats and attempting to suppress muffled laughter behind the wrist cast that Danny lovingly gave him at the last gala.

On a side note, Danny Kane is called "Rabid Dog." by the elites of Gotham, who watched the boy make three grown men cry after two minutes of talking to him and also witness four Waynes attempt to pry his mouth open screaming, "No Danny drop it. drop it!" while the boy munched on Jason's wrist.

After a particularly grueling morning of non-stop rehearsals and choreographing, Jisung wanted nothing more than a little peace and quiet. The instant that Chan decided it was time for a lunch break, Jisung grabbed his bag and bolted out the door, only for Minho to grab him by the back of his hoodie.

“Hold it right there,” Minho let out a tsk, and Jisung groaned.

“Hyung, I’m starving, I’m tired, and my throat hurts. I swear I’ll be back on time,” Jisung pleaded. Minho rolled his eyes.

“Idiot, I don’t care whether you’re punctual. You don’t really expect to leave the building in the middle of comeback season, in public, without a disguise, do you?”

Jisung grimaced, having completely forgotten that he was a celebrity in his rush to get out of the rehearsal room. Glancing around the room, he snatched a black mask and one of Hyunjin’s baseball caps, pulling it down over his eyes.

“Happy?” Jisung crossed his arms, and Minho shoved him. “Yah! My whole body is sore right now!”

“Bring me back a coffee,” Minho ordered, as Jisung stumbled out the door.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Despite his snarky attitude, Minho wasn’t exactly wrong. Rabid fans were swarming every café and bookstore near the JYP building, and Jisung barely escaped with his life after one fan came up behind him, saying he looked rather familiar.

It wasn’t that he was mad at the fans. Jisung adored STAY- they fueled his passion, and he couldn’t be more grateful to receive their admiration. But the stiff rehearsal had left him exhausted in more ways than just physically.

He couldn’t hit the notes. Steps were landing just the slightest beat off. His entire body felt sluggish and, well, not like his body. He didn’t feel like Han Jisung of Stray Kids, just the inexperienced kid who had just debuted, nervous and wide-eyed.

Sighing, Jisung rubbed his forehead, spotting one of his favorite bookstores across the street. Maybe he just needed some alone time- Chan, having sensed his exhaustion, had offered they each take a longer break than usual, not regrouping for another few hours.

He walked by the shelves, skimming titles and signs until he reached the manga section. Smiling crookedly under his mask, Jisung grabbed a random novel and slumped against the shelf, thoughts melting away as the quiet draped over him like a blanket.

“Uhm, excuse me?”

The voice broke through his little bubble half an hour into his break.

Jisung glanced up, a tremor rippling through his skin as he immediately spotted the unmistakable Han Quokka keychain swinging on the tote bag of this stranger. He thought he’d gotten far enough away from the building to be safe- how had they even followed him here? Damnit, maybe he needed to start putting on the old granny disguises like Jeongin whenever he went out.

“Are you… currently reading that edition?” you asked hesitantly, pointing at the third issue of the manga he was currently reading.

He blinked. Once. Then twice. You genuinely thought this man was deaf, and was ready to break out your best sign language (re: indecipherable hand gestures), until his eyes crinkled in a smile- at least, you assumed he was smiling under the black cloth mask.

“Yeah, I’m finished. Are you into this series?” Jisung questioned, getting onto his feet to hand the book to you. Your eyes lit up in excitement, eager to have the chance to share an interest with somebody new.

“I’ve only just started, but I hear everybody praising it! Which book are you on?” you smiled brightly, accepting the book graciously.

“Ah- well, I’m actually rereading it right now, as a refresher before the series finale releases,” Jisung grinned sheepishly. You let out a wow in amazement, and Jisung felt his earlier worries melt away.

You hadn’t approached him with the knowledge of who he was. At least, if you somehow did know, you were being extremely gracious about it.

“So, what’s your name?” you queried.

Ah shit. He hadn’t thought of a good answer to that.

“Uhm… Hanji,” Jisung fibbed pathetically, praying earnestly to the gods that he hadn’t made it far too obvious. You stared at him for what felt like forever, until another bright smile broke out over your face.

Despite only just meeting, seeing such an enthusiastic smile when he had been so exhausted earlier seemed to send a warm energy through him, and Jisung couldn’t help but smile back.

You took a step closer, eyes shining with eagerness. “Do you know a band called Stray Kids?”

Jisung could’ve sworn his brain and all other vital bodily organs froze in that very second. It took approximately three and a half seconds for the hours of media training slammed into him like a truck.

“Uh- uh, I’ve heard of them, yeah,” Jisung lied brazenly, biting his lower lip underneath the mask.

You gasped. “For real? I just thought you might since one of the members, Han Jisung, his name sounds really similar to yours!”

“Oh, hah, really?” Jisung took a trembling step backwards, his back hitting the shelf. “First time I’ve heard that-”

One day ago, from Hyunjin: “Yo, Hanji, help me open this~”

This morning, from Changbin: “Hanji-ah, please get off the floor.”

Two hours ago, from Chan: “Huh? Why is Hanji still on the floor?”

Yup. Definitely the first time that he, Han Jisung, had been likened to the name Hanji.

“Oh, really? That’s surprising,” you noted, but then sighed. “But I suppose you’re right. I haven’t met many other STAY since I moved to this neighborhood.”

Wow, was that glitter on your lips? Jisung wondered absentmindedly, before snapping back to reality.

“Ah- I’m a STAY!” Jisung blurted out, then mentally drop-kicked himself in the gut. What the hell? Oh, when the others found out about this, he was certainly going to be relentlessly taunted for eternity.

Yet, even more strangely than his sudden declaration, he somehow felt all feelings of regret vanish when your eyes went from drooping in disappointment to lighting up once more.

For some unknown reason, he felt drawn into the way your eyes seemed to reflect every shift in emotion like a mirror, in the way they leapt between shimmering curiosity to enthusiasm as bright as the afternoon sun.

“Really?” you exclaimed with delight. “Who’s your bias? When did you start stanning? Do you have a bias wrecker? Have you been to their concerts-?”

With every question, Jisung found his face getting redder and redder with a relentless blush behind the mask, too distracted by the way those eyes were practically glimmering with adoration for the very group he was in.

A buzzing punctuated through your multitude of questions. Your eyes shifted from delight to confusion, and lastly panic as you glanced at your watch.

You swore. “Ah- I’m so sorry Hanji, that’s the end of my lunch break, I really gotta dash, but it was so nice to meet you-”

Right as you spun around on your heels, Jisung grabbed your wrist gently automatically, eyes still wide, still blushing furiously underneath the mask.

“Could I get your number?” Jisung said, trying to hide the stammer in his voice. He could perfectly read the perplexity in your eyes, but then you smiled once more.

That smile. Is that really all it took to fall?

“Sure! Here, you can borrow my phone, and just type it in there~”

**********

Han Jisung was thoroughly screwed, cooked, in dire straits, headed for the rocks, toast, and certainly done for.

A week after your first encounter, you invited Jisung to a café, where he learned your bias was none other than himself.

Two days afterwards, you ran into him at a park while on a run, and he tried not to faint in front of you when you offered to share an earbud with him, only for your SKZ Playlist to begin blasting “Wow”.

Small meetings turned into frequent hangouts, and eventually, only two months afterwards, melted into perfect dates once he was bullied by Minho and Chan into finding the courage to give you a bouquet and invite you to dinner.

Not a single time had Jisung taken his mask off in front of you. At this point, he was pretty sure you were under the impression he was deathly allergic to air, but you rarely brought it up. If needed, he was ready to put on a full-Shakespearean monologue about a tragic childhood where he nearly suffocated to death on a butterfly.

So then, why exactly was Han Jisung so completely, royally screwed?

Being the wonderful girlfriend you were, knowing how dedicated of a STAY your boyfriend was, you bought him a pair of tickets to the KBS Music Festival performance.

Being the oblivious boyfriend he was, Han Jisung had ended up saying, in pure confusion with his guard let down, “But babe, I’m performing, you didn’t need to buy the tickets.”

Cue the awkward silence. Cue the rapid blinking.

“Jisung.”

“… Yes, sweetheart, darling, jagiya?”

Your eyes gleamed with barely concealed fury, head creaking around from the kitchen to face your terrified boyfriend on the couch.

“What the hell did you just say?”

“That I love you very much?”

A head of cabbage came hurtling towards his head, and Jisung shrieked, diving underneath the coffee table, to no avail. You stomped over, grabbing him by the back of his shirt, and tossing him onto the sofa, leaning in dangerously close with murder in your eyes, arms on either side caging him in. Not the worst position to be trapped in, in his expert opinion.

“Babe?” Jisung asked timidly. “Are we flirting right now?”

You took a deep breath, head drooping, and then snapped back up to glower at him.

“It took you this long to finally confess that you were actually Han Jisung?”

“I’m sorry, please don’t stab me- wait, what?”

Bewilderment was plastered all over Jisung’s face. You maintained the look of betrayal for about three more seconds before you started giggling, collapsing into his arms. Despite his confusion, he caught you instinctively, but still couldn’t make sense of anything.

“You knew?” Jisung questioned, completely befuddled by the turn of events.

“Babe, I knew since a month after we met. You talked about the other members as if you lived with them, and you literally have the exact same phone case as the one I saw on your Instagram live. Including the keychain on it that I got you.”

You smiled up at him. “But you know what the most obvious part was?”

Jisung sighed in defeat, somehow fully relieved he no longer had to hide who he was, yet also a bit disappointed he wasn’t able to reveal the truth himself.

“What was it?”

Leaning in, you planted a kiss on Jisung’s cheek, carefully tugging off his mask.

“I started calling you by your real name after we started dating, and you never noticed, Jisung,” you said sweetly, before properly kissing him on the lips, then breaking out into giddy laughter seeing the malfunctioning expression on your boyfriend’s face.

It wouldn’t be odd for you to call him Han or Hannie when his alias was Hanji. But even earlier, and many more instances beforehand, you had called him Jisung without hesitation, and he didn’t even skip a beat to respond.

“I’d be a terrible secret agent,” Jisung muttered, hiding his face in his hands. But peeking through his fingers, seeing your victorious grin, he felt his own smile tugging up at his lips. “I’m really sorry I kept it from you for this long.”

“Yah, Hanji,” you frowned, poking his cheek, echoing the fake alias he had used. “I love you either way. Both as Han Jisung of Stray Kids, and also as Hanji, the random guy at the bookstore hogging all the manga. Because you’re my Hannie, and I’m yours.”

Jisung studied your face for a moment, with nothing but adoration and gratitude. Somehow, he’d been lucky enough to give you his heart, and lucky enough to cherish yours.

How fortunate you had found each other that day.

…

“So if I don’t have to wear a mask around you, can I kiss you more often now?”

"but i know that tone. it's your 'i want to do something and you're going to have to come with me' tone."

you turn to face him fully, phone in hand with the video already queued up. "we have to do the first snow dance."

he blinks at you. "what?"

"the first snow dance.” jisung just stares at you, brow arching as he waits for you to elaborate. you sigh but continue. “the tiktok thing? to the exo song?" you're already doing a little demonstration move with your arms, humming the melody.

recognition flashes across his face. it’s almost comical how quick it fades into resignation. "oh god. that thing."

"you've done it before! i saw the video so you can’t bullshit yourself outta this one." you beam.

"exactly, i've done it before. i've fulfilled my first snow dance quota for my entire life."

"but you haven't done it with me." you draw out the syllable, knowing damn well that the shameless pleading will win him over. "come on. it's literally the first snow. this is like, a once a year opportunity."

jisung sighs, long and dramatic, and it’s at that moment that you know you’ve won.

he pushes himself up and out of his cozy little nest of couch cushions with a begrudging "you're lucky i love you."

outside, the world looks like it’s been cut straight out of your pinterest feed, all light gray skies and white dusted ground.

the street is empty, the snow just starting to stick to the pavement. you can see your breath in the air. in the back of your mind there’s a bit of regret for not grabbing a thicker coat in your rush to get ready, but the excited adrenaline in your chest helps to keep you warm.

"okay," jisung says, already resigned to his fate. "you remember the moves, right? i’ve been told i’m a horrid dance teacher, so i’m not sure i can be too much help."

"i watched like fifty videos yesterday. i'm ready."

he pulls out his phone and queues up the song, propping it up on of the tree planters that line the sidewalk. "if this ends up on the internet, i'm denying everything and stealing the entirety of your ramen supply."

"deal."

you shuffle into position next to jisung as the start of the chorus plays. jisung counts you in, and then you're both moving, doing the simple dance moves that look far cuter on camera then they have any right to be.

he's good at this, obviously. his movements are clean and practiced, even though he's barely trying. you're doing your best to keep up, laughing as you fumble through one of the shuffling footwork.

the snow is falling a little harder now. you notice it whenever you look over at him, the way it clings to his hair, his lashes.

"you're not even trying!" you try to keep your complaint serious, but the stern tone is completely derailed by the grin pulling at your lips.

"i am absolutely trying," he says, smiling back at you. "this is me at solid like, sixty percent."

you're coming up on the little spin move, the one that looks so easy in the videos but you haven't quite mastered yet. you go for it anyway, momentum carrying you around, and that's when you realize the pavement had a little more slip to it than you originally thought.

your foot slides out from under you.

"fuck-!"

jisung reaches for you as you squeak, reflexes kicking in, but he's standing on the same slick pavement that you were. his feet fly out from beneath him in a way that’s almost comical and you both go down in a tangle of limbs and winter coats, landing in the thin layer of snow with matching yelps.

for a second, there's just silence.

from his phone speaker, you can hear exo telling you merry christmas.

you’re the one that laughs first. it only takes a few seconds before jisung’s dissolving into it too.

it bubbles up from somewhere in your chest, uncontrollable and bright. it’s one of those laughs that’s so hard to stop once it starts, the one that makes your eyes water and your cheeks ache.

jisung is laughing too, the kind where no sound comes out at first because he's laughing too hard to breathe. you're both just lying there on your backs in the snow, staring up at the gray sky, absolutely losing it.

"that was…" you try to say, but you're laughing too hard for any words to come out coherently. "that was so-"

"terrible," jisung finishes for you. "we're so bad at this."

"speak for yourself, i was doing great until the ground betrayed me."

"the ground betrayed both of us, apparently."

you turn your head to look at him, and the sight nearly knocks the breathe out of you worse than your stumble to the ground.

the snow catching in his bangs has begun to melt, cheeks pink from the cold and the laughter. he's already looking at you, and there's something soft in his expression that makes your heart do a little flip.

"come here," he says, and before you can ask what he means, he's tugging you toward him and pulling you on top of him so you're face to face.

his lips are cold at first, but they warm quickly as you they move against yours in slow, earnest presses. your hand raises to rest gentle against his jaw, holding him like the precious thing he is.

the snow is still falling around you, landing on your back, his face, melting where your bodies meet. you can vaguely hear the song fade to and end in the background. but honestly? kissing han jisung in the snow is far better than some stupid little trend.

when you finally pull back, you're both smiling again. not that you’d ever really stopped.

"so," you say. "was it worth it?"

"the dance was a disaster," he says, brushing snow off your cheek with his thumb. "but this part? yeah. this part was worth it."

you kiss him again, quick and sweet, before finally pushing yourself up. you offer him your hand and pull him to his feet, both of you brushing snow off your clothes.

"we're definitely trying that again next year," you say.

he groans, but he's still smiling. "you're going to be the death of me."

"probably," you agree, lacing your fingers through his as you head back inside. "but at least we'll look cute doing it."

behind you, his phone is still sitting perched on the edge of the cement planter, and you realize with a start that it was recording the whole time. you catch jisung's eye and you both burst into laughter all over again.

"i’m totally deleting that-,"

"absolutely not!" you say, rushing forward to snatch his phone before he can. "this is going in the archives."

later, once your both dry and warm and curled up with a disgustingly sweet cup of hot coco, you watch the video back. jisung nudges you with a laugh when you both went down like (ay) dominos, and you poke him in the side at the way you couldn't stop laughing.

theboth of you get a little quiet at the way he pulled you close and kissed you in the snow like something out of a drama, and before you know it jisung’s pressing a kiss to your hair with a mumbled little “i love you”

Lino:

Stares the second he catches you napping on the couch with his Leebit plushie

He's not surprised - you texted saying you were tired, wanted cuddles - but he was at practice and he was still all sweaty and grimy

Walks over to take a quick picture

Picks up the plushie and pretends to aggressively punch it's little face before calmly placing it back in your arms

Thinks it's really a cute sight but silently hates the plushie for taking his place

Changbin:

Starts immediately punching the air to fight his cuteness aggression

Almost wakes you up with how hard he's breathing because he's holding it all in

Takes a picture and sends it to the group chat to talk about HOW CUTE YOU ARE !!

Sits on the ground by the couch where you're napping and reaching out to touch the plushie.

Gives it head pats, rubs its cheeks. Then does the same to you

Gentle happy boy <3

Hyunjin:

POSTS a PICTURE on his INSTAGRAM OF YOU

Hard launches your relationship while also promoting the most recent SKZOO collaboration project

When you wake up he's pouty

Pretends not to be jealous of the plushie but most certainly IS jealous you got to cuddle him instead of Jinnie.

Please give him snuggles, he's probably gonna drown the bitch in your kitchen sink if you don't (Learned from the worst)

Jisung:

He thinks it's the cutest thing on Earth !!!

Makes a picture of you with Hanquokka his phone background

Thinks it's soooo cute because your cheek is squished against the plushie's round cheeks

Shows all the members the following evening at practice

You end up finding out from Chan who texted you a pic of Jisung's background - who was then running around yelling that Chan ratted his out and that they'd never see him again when he went home

You get revenge by making a .5 of his big ass forehead your background <3

Felix:

Ends up waking you up because he's giggling so much at his phone

He'd texted the group chat a picture of you sleeping with Bbokari and said his two favorite girls were napping together (idk Bbokari's gender fluctuates she's a unisex icon we love him)

Apologizes and wraps his arm around you in the bed so you can cuddle him and Bbokari at the same time

Gives you lots of cuddles and pouts at himself for waking you up

Gives you a little back rub while he's there <3

Seungmin:

Pouts when he finds you but ultimately stays quiet. Until he sees the Puppym plushie.

How DARE you replace him so easily with someone so.... SMALL.

Recreates the 'Welcome Home Cheater' banner and puts it up on the kitchen wall so you see it when you wake up

Ultimately he just laughs about it but he makes a show of acting serious when you question what you did wrong

Gives you lots of hugs and kisses as an apology for worrying you but also sits on the Puppym plushie as y'all watch movies together as payback

Jeongin:

Gets SO smiley when he sees you with the Foxiny plushie!!

He takes pictures but he sends them to his family members instead of the group chat

Actually, he tells them that 'this is the person I'm gonna marry some day'

Loves that you love his skzoo as much as you love him

Later when he's chatting with you about seeing you sleeping w/ the plushie, he pretends to chokehold it and feigns anger at the plushie for 'stealing his partner'

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hwangjoanna @skzophreniic

"Dodge." Moon Knight's voice echoed in your head.

Your head snapped up at the presence near you.

"Can you not sleep in the living room? You have a bed for a reason." A voice said behind the couch.

It was Tim.

"I was watching something." You groaned.

"Well, Steph and I want to watch something too. If you're gonna sleep, then leave." He said with a frown.

"It was a doze and I still haven't finished."

Tim was slightly taken aback by your cold tone. What was your problem? What could possibly be so important about what you were watching that made you get snappy at him?

"It's just a Cyclops interview, he's boring anyway." Steph said, moving to get the remote.

"I'm waiting for Jean." You moved the remote to your lap.

"Don't make me get Bruce." Tim threatened. That was low. He knows Bruce takes the side of whoever is against you, and he hates dealing with you. So he's harsh, incredibly so.

You stood up and gave Tim and Steph a glare and dropped the remote on the ground before leaving the room.

When you left the room Steph and Tim exchanged looks.

"What was your problem?"

As you walked up the stairs albeit angrily you couldn't help but think of what would happen at school. You were killed, and were supposed to stay dead.

"Don't worry... We'll make them pay." Astraea assured.

"How? I'm not in the mood to tarnish my good record over this, you know."

"Young one, are you forgetting that you are capable of causing harm without it tracing back to you?"

You stopped in your tracks and hummed.

"We won't kill."

"Oh no ofcourse not haha but you should get vengeance." She chuckled.

You rubbed your temples as she ran through potential plans. This whole telepathy thing is still quaking you, you just can't get used to it. There are streams and streams of thoughts plaguing you and you feel everything now.

The roughness of the floor, the soft bedsheets, callous skin.

You took a deep breath and saw that it was getting dark outside.

Your day was uneventful, really uneventful. You did realise that Astraea wants you to try everything and she seems to have a sweet tooth.

"You need to train today."

"I know."

"Dreading it?"

"I can manage."

"I know you can."

You walked to your room and opened the door before locking it immediately.

"Astraea."

"Yes?"

"I want a cape."

"When your training is done you will get your cape."

"Abyssmal."

With a sigh and a flash of light you vanished.

The cold air was biting, but you were warm and waiting. Not long after your appearance you heard the silent footsteps of Moon Knight... and someone else?

You turned around to face them.

It was a second Moon Knight, but he was adorned in black and gold rather than black and white.

"Never knew you had a twin."

"This is Hunter's Moon, the other fist of Khonshu."

"There's two Moons?"

"Most people tend to have two fists, Our god is the same." Hunter's Moon responded.

"That's oddly convenient" You replied "Do you two always pose like that?"

"Like what?" The pair responded in unison.

"Nevermind." You deadpanned. "So what's the lesson today? Also I need to be home early because I have school tomorrow and I want to be somewhat well rested."

"On field training. Werewolf." Hunter's Moon responded as he moved beside you. "And don't worry, you'll be home in time for sleep. We can't have your academics slipping."

You laughed. "Werewolf? Really? Those aren't real.."

Your fit of giggles were interrupted by a scream. Moon Knight turned to face you before leaping off the building with Hunter's Moon in suit.

God why you...

--

You were in bed hissing at the bruises on your back. You won't lie, you were quite proud of how you did back there but you were also in pain and had to resist the urge to scold yourself. Your suit is quite impressive now that you think of it, because not only did it not tear once, it also seemed to absorb most of the blows you received.

"You'll be healed by morning, Young one." Astraea reassured you, and you believed her but damn did this not hurt like a bitch. That werewolf got you good, and what was worse was the fact that you didn't have much assistance.

As the minutes went on it became harder and harder to keep your eyes and opened and you soon found yourself succumbing to sleep.

--

You were currently in the dining room getting breakfast. You're earlier than usual but you've noticed that you don't need that much sleep.

Wish you could say the same for food.

"Miss, are you sure you wish to attend school today? You can always call in sick after what... happened."

"Yes, Alfred, I'm fine. I promise. I don't really like missing school, it makes me feel weird. If anything happens, I'll call you." You said as Alfred put down a plate of pancakes, fruits, cream, and syrup in front of you.

"You seem to be spoiling yourself, it seems. I haven't seen you indulge in anything sweet since your toddler years." He chuckled while you instantly dug into the meal in front of you.

He was right, you rarely ate anything sweet. You weren't sure why, but savoury was your go to. And most sweet things you ate were fruits. Being a competitive MMA fighter had its downsides, and one of them was a coach that'd give you certain do's and dont's. You hoped that these cravings would subside before you had any major tournaments.

"Thanks Alfred. It's just a weird craving I guess."

"You're awfully too young to be eating the way you do." He said as he stared at you.

"Helen says it's good for me."

Alfred let out a reproachful hum before exiting. He never liked your coach.

--

You were in school and really regretting the choice of being here. Your head was loud. Ringing echoing voices vibrated in your head.

You were trying to play it cool but you were truly on the brink.

You were even more annoyed when a pair of girls stopped you.

"Hey! We're a band and we're looking for a guitarist!" One of the girls said as she handed you a flyer. She was the shorter one of the two and had sunglasses on her forehead."And we know you play guitar because we've seen you! So please consider it because you were really good!" You raised your eyebrow at that and took a step back.

"How-"

"Don't worry about it. Join us! Please? We've seen you around school and we think you're pretty cool.." the girl continued. "Also are those your real arms...?"

"What? Yes? Why wouldn't they be?"

"Muscles. She has such cool muscles"

You felt your face get hot. Wow! What an awkward way for your powers to flare.

"Look I'll think about it.." You said reaching out to grab a flyer.

"She doesn't speak for us." The other girl said with a nervous smile. "But please, join us. It is getting embarrassing not having a guitarist in our band."

"I'll think about it."

"So you're in!?" The shorter girl said.

"I didn't say that!" You said defensively.

"You're in!!”

God what did you get yourself into?

A circumtriple planet — that's what you are.

A planet that orbits around three bright, dazzling suns.

But you weren't like this before; it didn't start out like this, no.

You were your parents' firstborn, a child bearing a perfect resemblance to both Clark and Lois. You were loved, adored, and you still are!

Your father had always been open about his being Superman, Humanity's Greatest Hero, fully expecting you to inherit his powers—his genes are in you, after all. You will surely do great, just like your father.

But... That never became true.

You've never woken up one day and realized you're floating above your mattress, you've never accidentally broken a metal spoon by gripping it too hard, you've never been able to move at immaculate speed.

Your father reassured you that it would be okay, that maybe you're a late bloomer—but those reassurances died down as time passed. Your family accepted that you, despite having Kryptonian genes, inherited no power.

But no, your father has never blamed you for it, of course not! Your parents still love you, your mother still kisses you on the forehead before bed, and your father gives you a big hug before school. Your parents have never let you feel shame or insecure for not being a superhuman like your dad.

At the age of seven, your parents have another child—a son, your younger brother.

Jonathan—they named him—, or Jon for short, bears the same curly black hair and baby blue eyes like his father, but his face is as soft and pretty as his mother's.

He was sunshine-incarnate even as a baby! He rarely cried, and he loves clinging to his parents, especially you.

The first time you held him in the hospital room, with your mother helping guide Jon into your arms, you knew you were going to love him forever.

And Jon loves you back just as much, always giggling and babbling for you as a baby. And when he learned how to walk, it was a nightmare for Clark and Lois, because Jon kept crawling out of his playpen and started taking a tour around the house, determined to find you.

And when they came back to an empty playpen, they learned not to panic and go to their eldest child's room instead, knowing you'd be sitting in there with your baby brother clinging to your lap and reading to him a random book.

Your life was perfect. For seventeen whole years of your life, everything is as perfect as you could wish it to be.

Okay, there were nights during middle to high school when you wanted to give up because everything was too stressful, but your family was always there for you.

Jon sleeps in your bed with you for practically every night, so it almost feels like his own room was only for decorations in the house, because the very owner of said room never used it. No, instead, your room was also his room—everything he needs is there! You are there!

Everything was perfect.

Until just a year before you graduate from high school, your baby brother Jon got his powers at the age of ten.

And you wished you were as kind-hearted and optimistic as your dad, sometimes, but the first time you heard the news, there was a pang of jealousy that struck you deep in your chest.

It reawakened your want deep inside you that had gone to slumber since all those years ago—the desire to be just like your father, to have his powers so you could help him save the world, bond, and do all that stuff you used to imagine doing together with your dad. Like hanging out in the sky, eating fast food with stained fingers while you both talk about random stuff.

That would never happen.

But you quickly pushed all those thoughts down, shaking your head before smiling at your baby brother and scooping him up into one bigggg hug. All the while, he clings back to you, grumbling about how he's "a big boy now", even though he's hugging you back even tighter.

Things changed after that. But not suddenly, no. Even you yourself didn't notice anything until it's too late.

It wasn't noticeable at first how your parents started pulling away, unintentionally. Even Clark and Lois didn't notice, not when they're exhausted already from trying to keep a little boy who inherited the destructive strength of Superman out of trouble daily.

You didn't notice until it was too late. Until the gap between your relationship was too far apart that you couldn't even remember the last time you had movie nights together, as a family, anymore.

These days, your father and Jon are often out on adventures, and Jon always comes back home, bouncing on his feet as he clings to you and going on and on about this new friend he got—"Damian". Yeah, he seems nice, even if a bit scary sometimes.

The day of your graduation was a bit awkward, really. There were moments when no one spoke a word, and each of you realized that something just... wasn't the same anymore.

Although you guys tried to cling to the lasting warmth of familiarity of it all. Partly for you—since it's your day—but mostly for Jon. He's still too young to really understand everything that was happening, and you're not about to sour everyone's mood just because of something trivial.

Was it really trivial, though?

After graduation, you immediately decided to move out. You got a scholarship for the university that you liked, and that just happened to be far from your home. Well, you're eighteen now, so no harm in that, right?

Your parents were proud, but they were... awkward, unlike before. Maybe if you guys hadn't drifted apart before all of this, they would be in tears sending you off. But the one who was the most emotional was your baby brother.

When you mentioned moving out to the family, Jon tried to stay happy. His eldest sibling is going off to do their own thing; he should be happy!

But then one night, he goes into your bedroom to cuddle like always, only to see you packing your bags. Most of the stuff on the walls and decorating your shelves is all gone, already packed somewhere in one of the boxes, and he just... started crying.

Poor thing clung to you for the entire night, begging you not to go off without him. His super hearing could only reach so far. What if he couldn't hear your heartbeat? What if you're injured or dying and he doesn't know immediately?

He never understood why his father remembered the exact rhythm and sound of his loved one's heartbeat until now, because what if he forgot what your heartbeat sounds like?

You groaned as you put the last box onto the ground of your new apartment, sweat rolling down the side of your cheek as you heaved—it's been a long day, full of nothing but moving into your new home.

You looked around your apartment, taking in the spacious yet empty place. Yeah, you're gonna need a lot of work to liven this place up.

Today was a lot, actually. This morning was, at least. Jon couldn't stop crying, not wanting you to go and begging you to either stay home or let him go with you—but all you could do was kiss him goodbye on the forehead before letting go.

Your parents looked at you with soft eyes, but you couldn't bring yourself to hold their gaze, only giving them a quick goodbye before hurried getting into the car.

And completely missing the way your mother looked like she regretted the things that happened in the past few months. Now that her eldest child is moving out, Lois was reminded that you weren't a baby anymore

And completely missing the way your mother looked like she regretted the things that happened in the past few months. Now that her eldest child is moving out, Lois was reminded that you weren't a baby anymore—that you're an adult now, and you're going off on your own, spreading your own wings and flying out of the nest.

She realized that you had been so distant for the past few months. She couldn't remember the last time you hugged her willingly without stiffening up, as if you didn't hate her, but rather didn't know how to act close to her anymore.

And you completely missed the way your father looked like he was about to cry, wondering if it's too late to postpone this for at least a few more days, just so he could take you out to eat at your favourite restaurant again. Without Jon or Lois this time, just you and him, father-child bonding time.

He stopped doing that around when you started high school, because you were already stressed enough, and you were already happy to eat dinner with him at home.

But then family dinner became rare as well. It's not really uncommon for a teen to pass out earlier than dinner due to exhaustion, right? Besides, sometimes you also bring food back into your room to eat while doing your assignments.

So, in conclusion, they realized too late that maybe they hadn't been the best parents ever in the last.. year.

And Clark frowned every time Jon begged him to let him go to your place for just one night, because Jon still wasn't used to sleeping alone without his big sibling. It was just too sudden a change.

But not because he's annoyed, but because he wanted to do that too—but just as he thinks of going to visit his eldest child, it seems like another threat just keeps popping up.

Is that what has been happening without him even noticing? Because he has been so distracted by saving the world that he couldn't even spare his own child a glance?

He wanted to bond with them, but what can he even say? He's embarrassed, really. Not of you but of himself. Because the longer he looks at it, the longer he realized that maybe, he hadn't even been paying attention from the start.

What's your favourite colour? Favourite food? What kind of movie do you like? What's your favourite restaurant?

And whenever he mentioned that, Jon just looked at him like he was being ridiculous. Because, truly, he was. Because it couldn't be possible that Jon knew all of that while Clark had been so clueless for years, right?

...Oh no, he needs to talk to you. Right now.

“tired or somethin’?” jason asks, his voice low in your ear. it makes you jump, makes your heart leap from your chest. doesn’t help that you’re standing next to the autopsy table. 

“always, why?” you respond, so dry and so not paying attention. 

“cause you misspelled dismemberment, doll.” warm, pleasant weight leans onto your shoulder, like he’s propped his arm up there. “s’not like you.” 

you scoff, shaking your head a little sheepishly when you realize you had in fact misspelled it on the paperwork. 

“thanks, asshole.” 

he shrugs, the motion seen by no one but you. “all in a day’s work.” 

if you’d thought you were familiar with death before.. 

well. 

that was before jason todd had decided he was haunting you. 

he’s gone again before the work day’s over, your day oddly silent as you drive home. 

it’s a reminder of what life was like before the dead people started talking back. 

you’re not really sure you’re used to it yet. you’re not willing to ask why your parents have never popped over to chat. 

you make dinner, stirring the pot in the silence of your apartment. every time you turn you half-expect him to be there, making some witty remark or sparking up a cigarette in your non-smoking apartment. it’s nothing new to you, thinking about someone who’s no longer there. 

it’s been a few weeks since you first saw him in your dreams. 

it was rough going, once he’d started appearing during the waking hours. you’d reflexively thrown your toothbrush at the mirror one morning when he’d showed up behind you in the reflection. it got a laugh from him at first, even though he spent the rest of the day apologizing for scaring you. 

you don’t care that he startled you. it made your heart beat in a way it hadn’t in months, years. you realize how ironic it is that you sort of feel like the living dead. jason would probably get a kick out of it if you ever shared the sentiment with him. 

your reluctant bedtime routine starts up like it does every night: a cup of tea, a lit candle or two, and that stupid self-help book. it’s honestly become a ritual, even if you slightly despise the false cheeriness the author imbibed into every sentence. 

like clockwork, you start to nod off barely ten pages in. “the key to rediscovering who you are after the death of a loved one is to…” 

“that damn book again, huh?”

you turn your head, greeted by what’s now an extremely familiar face. “hi, jay.” 

it’s nice to see him here. fully fleshed out—unlike during the day, where he’s nothing more than a trick of the light. his cheeks are dusted with pink as he looks you over, fiddling with his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie. 

“what happened to ‘asshole’?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow as he looks down at you. 

you giggle, raising a shoulder in a half-shrug. “nothin.’ did i hurt your feelings?” 

the tease in your tone feels like a challenge to jason, who steps closer. 

“nah, just figured i should check if your feelings had changed.” 

“not likely.” you squeak out, trying to keep your composure even though he’s almost toe-to-toe with you, eyes looking into yours. it’s been hard admitting to yourself that you’re crushing on a ghost.

“y’know, maybe if you read something good, you wouldn’t always fall asleep to it.” 

“maybe i’m trying to fall asleep, asshole.”

“there she is.” 

you scoff, nudging him with your shoulder. “whatever. since you’re so sure of yourself, i’d love to know what you consider a good book.” 

he lights up like you’ve just given him a christmas present, transferring his cigarette from his hands to his mouth. 

“somethin’ classic, doll. like austen, or shelley.” 

“i’ve read frankenstein, asshole.” 

he shrugs. “wasn’t sayin’ you hadn’t.” 

you roll your eyes, smiling to yourself. 

“what’s your favorite book?” 

he sighs happily, and your smile grows wider. you would’ve had him talking about books ages ago if you knew he was such a reader. 

“probably pride & prejudice, just from how many times i’ve read it.”  

“oh, yeah? how many times do you think you’ve read it?” you turn to him, riveted. “hmm..,” he chews on his bottom lip as he thinks, closing one eyes as he counts in his head. “roughly fifty times, i’ll bet.” 

“fifty!?” you reply, a bit incredulously. makes your reading habits look ridiculous. 

“mm, yep.” jason says, puffing on his cigarette. “loved it so much i’d finish it and flip right back to the front. got parts of it memorized.” 

“bullshit.” 

“one mornin’, about a week after bingley's engagement with jane had been formed, as he and the females of the family were sittin’ together in the dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window, by the sound of a carriage. they perceived a chaise and four driving up the lawn. was too early in the mornin’ for visitors, and besides, the equipage didn’t answer to that of any of their neighbors. the horses were post, and neither the carriage, neither the livery of the servant who preceded it, were familiar to them. as it was certain, however, that somebody was—,”

“oh my god!” you cut in, aghast. “there’s no way. you’re makin’ that up.” 

“mm, nope.”

“what chapter is that from?” you ask, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. 

“i think fifty-five? fifty-six? it’s obviously been awhile since i’ve had a chance to read.” 

“right.” you nod, trying not to sigh heavily as you remind yourself to be more sensitive to his situation. "i believe you."

he puffs out, the tobacco smoke swirling into your nose as he blows it towards you.

“gonna keep smoking in my face or are you gonna share?” you sneer, watching as jason crosses his arms. as you reach up to grab it from between his lips, he dodges, leaning back. 

“get your own,” he laughs, face cracking into a smile as the sound rasps from his throat. like it’s been awhile since it’s happened. 

you watch, settled like a predator as he takes another drag, still smiling. just as he’s about to exhale, you grab his jaw and pull him towards you, opening his lips to meet yours. 

smoke fills your mouth, and you breathe in, letting it curl into your lungs like an embrace. 

his cheeks flush as you pull away, blowing the smoke back at him. 

“n-nevermind.” jason says, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “we can share.”