Screen readable text for the prompts below the line!
Week 1: Bruce Wayne
December 1st - December 7th
Naughty/Nice List, Mistaken Identity/Identity Porn, Praise Kink, Time/Dimension Travel
Bonus Prompt: Touch Starved
Week 2: Dick Grayson
December 8th - December 14th
Home for the Holidays, Unmasked, Virginity Kink, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Bonus Prompt: Flight/Flying
Week 3: Barbara Gordon
December 15th - December 21st
Mistletoe, Truth Serum, Object Insertion, Only One Bed
Bonus Prompt: Honeymoon
Week 4: Jason Todd
December 22nd - December 28th
Cabin in the Woods, Lazarus Pit, Somnophilia, Love Spell
Bonus Prompt: Winter Holiday
Week 5: Tim Drake
December 29th - January 4th
Gift Giving, Communicators/Comm. Issues, CNC/Dubcon, Relationship Reveal
Bonus Prompt: New Years
Week 6: Stephanie Brown
January 5th - January 11th
Frostbite, Winter Uniform, Breeding Kink, Soulmates
Bonus Prompt: Meet Cute
Week 7: Cassandra Cain
January 12th - January 18th
Clothes Sharing, Holiday/Charity Gala, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Jealousy/Possessiveness
Bonus Prompt: Proposal
Week 8: Damian Wayne
January 19th - January 25th
Baking Cookies, Hero/Civilian, Size Kink, Age/Role Reversal
Bonus Prompt: Birthday Wish
Week 9: Duke Thomas
January 26th - February 1st
Cuddling/Huddling for Warmth, Injured on Patrol, Edging, Omegaverse
Bonus Prompt: First Love
Week 10: Free Choice
(Alfred Pennyworth, Helena Wayne, Helena Bertinelli, Jean-Paul Valley, Kate Kane, Harper Row, Luke Fox, Terry Mcginnis, etc.)
February 2nd - February 8th
Snowed-in, Court of Owls, Sex Pollen, De-Ageing
Bonus Prompt: Holiday Magic
Thank you all so much for participating! Our Ao3 collection will remain open if you wish to add more works, but the window for earning points on your works has closed and all points have been tallied!
You can reach out to us here on Tumblr (through this account or one of our mods) or on Discord to work out the details of your prize (a fic of 1,200 words for those that earned at least 150 points and 2,400 words for those that went above and beyond to reach 200 or more)!
last minute addition to @batship-winter's 2025 event, using the prompts 'court of owls' and 'de-aging'! this is the first fic ive finished in literal years and took several of my braincells so i hope yall like it! (idk how tumblr or ao3 work someone pls tell me if i fucked smth up)
cross-posted on ao3:
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Batman - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Kate Kane/Harper Row
Characters: Harper Row, Kate Kane (DCU), a bunch of others are mentioned
Additional Tags: Court of Owls (DCU), Age Regression/De-Aging, i hate that tag, DC Stands for Disregard Canon (DCU), Nonbinary Harper Row, Harper Row Uses They/Them Pronouns, Harper Row-centric, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending
Summary:
it's a talon nest, and almost an hour ago, batwoman—kate kane, the bravest, smartest, sexiest woman harper has ever had the pleasure of being madly in love with—went into that building alone and has been mia ever since.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
harper lands silently on the roof of the nondescript building, intently listening to see if anyone has noticed their presence. when there's no sound to indicate as much, they let out a slow breath, reaching up to tap their comm.
"bluebird on site," harper murmurs quietly, knowing the bat-tech communicator device will still be able to pick up their voice. "what's the eta on spoiler and black bat?"
"eight minutes out," stephanie's voice buzzes in their ear.
harper grits their teeth and clenches their fists. "i'll meet you guys inside," they say, jumping from the roof of the one-story building and landing in a neat tuck and roll.
"bluebird, do not go in there alone!" barbara's voice crackles from harper's comm. "black bat and spoiler are almost there, just wait for them!"
harper growls under their breath. "batwoman may not have that long, o! i'm going in," they say decisively, tapping harshly at their comm to mute it when barbara continues to gripe at them.
harper pulls out their taser, checking that the charge is enough and readying it at their side. they move to press their back against the concrete wall of the building next to the rusted metal door that leads inside.
they know that despite the mundanity of the place, below it is a labyrinth of tunnels where the court of owls experiments on people and trains them into unstoppable assassins. it's a talon nest, and almost an hour ago, batwoman—kate kane, the bravest, smartest, sexiest woman harper has ever had the pleasure of being madly in love with—went into that building alone and has been mia ever since. and harper needs to save her, to make sure she's alright, because if kate dies (or worse) before harper can confess to her, they'll live with that regret for the rest of their life.
harper closes their eyes, breathing out slowly to center themself. "alright, blue. go time."
they open their eyes as they whip around to kick down the door to the nest, sweeping the entrance with their taser primed. they're slightly thrown off when no talons immediately jump to rip their throat out with knives for claws, but keep their guard up, slowly and carefully walking further into the room.
this area is as unremarkable as the outside of the building, the overturned file cabinets and empty desks make it seem like it might've been an office at some point. harper carefully picks around the room until they find it: a painting of an owl on a branch on the far wall, a nest of chicks behind it and its eyes glowing green.
harper can't help but scoff at it. "not exactly being subtle, are they?" they whisper to themself. they approach the painting and feel around the sides of it until their fingers come across a switch. harper flips it and the wall the painting sits on slides back and to the side, revealing a set of stairs spiraling down into the dark.
harper steels themself, raising their taser once more before starting their descent.
--
the space the stairs lead to is a classic court-style entrance hall, complete with white marble columns and creepy owl statues whose eyes seem to follow harper's movements. harper doesn't bother searching this room, it's so big and empty enough that they can tell right away there's nothing and no one here. (of course, they do take a perfunctory glance up to the rafters.)
the entrance hall has a door on each wall, similar to the outside one. harper starts with the door on the right, opening it and sweeping the visible area with their taser raised. the new room is a small laboratory of sorts, strange machines and gadgets of vaguely medical-looking uses strewn about. harper is sure they do not want to know what most of them do.
this room is deserted like the last… except no, it isn't. harper can just barely hear a strange sort of snuffling noise from the corner. keeping their taser poised at the ready, they carefully walk towards the sound, stepping lightly.
harper's brow furrows in confusion when the only thing in the corner is a bundle of clothes on one of the metal lab tables, but it does seem like it's where the noise is coming from. they keep one hand on their raised gun, the other slowly moving towards the clothes. quickly, they yank it off the table to reveal—
a… baby. a pale, ruddy-faced, now crying baby.
"oh shit," harper curses emphatically, lowering their taser in their surprise. "what the fuck?!"
harper starts to panic as the baby starts crying louder. they look around for something to cover it in—her, harper can tell, since she's naked as the day she was born, which very well could have been today, for all harper knows! they settle on the cloth they pulled off her, black and sleek and actually really similar to the texture of the bats' capes.
"wait a fucking minute," harper says, pausing in the middle of attempting to swaddle the baby to feel the texture of the cloth between two gloved fingers. "this is a cape."
and horror mounts in harper's mind as they stare down at the baby. the pale-skinned, fiery-haired, and—harper can see when the little thing opens them—bright-green-eyed baby.
"you're kidding me," harper deadpans, staring down at who they are now sure is kate kane.
"fuck."
--
harper paces back and forth in the batcave, hands flexing rhythmically at their sides. it's been almost two hours since harper found kate and brought her back to the cave. once he was aware of the situation, bruce contacted the flash. who contacted martian manhunter. who contacted zatanna. and all of them have been cooped up in the medbay with baby kate since.
"you're gonna wear a hole in the ground if you keep doing that," says a voice from harper's left.
they whip their head around to see luke, dressed down in civvies and holding two steaming mugs of tea.
"c'mon," luke says, setting the mugs down on the long table that the bats use for meetings and nodding to the chair across from him. "sit. you look like you're about to combust."
harper scoffs, ignoring him and instead turning back to their pacing. "course i am, kate's a freaking baby!" they turn to glare at the medbay door. "they've been in there with her for a long time, what the fuck's going on?"
luke doesn't immediately respond, tilting his head slightly as he studies harper. "you seem stressed. and maybe a little freaked out."
harper whirls on him throwing their hands out to their sides. "no fucking shit! kate is a baby. she was in that nest for a long time, who knows what the fuck they did to her!"
"besides the obvious," luke responds, not unkindly.
"shut the fuck up," harper growls out, starting to pace once again. "how the hell are you so calm, anyway? that's your friend in there, too."
"true," luke says, taking a sip of his tea, "but i'm not the one in love with her."
harper stops in their tracks, taking an about-face turn to stare at luke in shock, who sips at his tea with comical ease. "what," is all harper manages to force out, the word more of a statement than a question.
luke gives them a deadpan look over the rim of his mug. "did you really think you were being subtle?"
harper is silent, their brain short-circuiting. luke pauses and gives them an incredulous look. "wait a damn minute, you really thought you weren't being completely obvious? seriously?"
harper still doesn't respond, opening and closing their mouth like a fish. luke puts his head in his free hand. "harper, i love you. but that's a little pathetic, even for you."
"hey!" they shout, the insult finally getting something out of them.
luke lets out a loud, single laugh at them before pointing to the tea he'd made for them. "would you sit down and drink your tea before it goes cold? it's lavender, a little birdie told me it's your favorite." harper makes an exasperated noise but complies, taking the seat across from luke.
he pushes the mug closer to them, which they grab with one hand, the other coming up to cover their face. luke watches harper with a small, snarky smile. "if it's any consolation, i'm pretty sure kate hasn't figured it out yet. she's one smart lady, but she can be just as oblivious as you sometimes. shit, even bruce figured it out, and you know how dense he can be about that kinda stuff."
harper groans into their hand, slumping over the table. "you're not helping, but thanks anyway," they say, their words slightly muffled. they move their hand enough to sip their tea, and let out a small, pleased noise. "how did you know exactly how i like it?" they ask, giving luke a curious look.
he smiles at them over his own cup, giving them a knowing look. "told you, a little birdie."
harper snorts and replies, "which one?"
luke chuckles, and his next words are cut off when the medbay door opens. harper immediately shoots up, all trace of amusement gone as they turn to face the other heroes exiting one by one. they meet bruce's eyes as he comes out last. "how is she?" they can't help but ask him.
bruce eyes them for a moment, surely taking in their disheveled state, with their uniform mostly still on save for the gloves, mask, and utility belt. finally, he says, "we managed to return kate to her normal state."
harper doesn't let their guard down just yet, hearing a but coming.
when bruce doesn't immediately continue, it's the flash that steps in. "she's still unconscious for now, but she should make a full recovery," barry says. "we won't know if there'll be any side effects until she wakes up."
harper bites their lip, wringing their hands together in front of them. "can i see her?" they ask bruce softly.
the man is stock-still, and harper can tell that he's also shaken by what's happened to his cousin. bruce lets out a barely-perceptible sigh, and nods once.
harper is immediately rushing past him into the medbay. there's only one occupied bed, and it's where kate lies, her face still and serene in sleep. kate has never been the type to move around a lot, always more keen to slow and meaningful movement. but still, something about the way she lays—stock still as if dead—unnerves harper.
harper breathes shakily, trying their best to hold back the sudden onslaught of tears obscuring their vision. they move to sit in the chair next to kate's bed, slow and careful as if they could accidentally wake her up from whatever process batman and the others put her through to get her back to normal. they take a moment to look over her slack face, thankfully unmarred. harper knows she always gets a little pissed off whenever an assailant manages to get a hit on her face.
harper's hand is moving forward before they can think better of it, carefully caressing one of kate's smooth, pale cheeks. harper feels a wetness on their face, and as soon as they notice it's as if a dam has broken. they quietly choke through their sobs, scrubbing at their face with their free hand.
"i'm—i'm sorry," they force out between their cries. "i should've been there. i'm so sorry, kate."
harper covers their face with both hands, their head falling forward onto the edge of the bed.
it's then, while they're facedown and crying, that they feel a hand in their hair, the touch gentle and hesitant. harper's head shoots up, their blue eyes locking onto kate's green ones.
"kate!" they say, standing to wrap her in a hug.
kate lets out an oomph! as harper scoops her up, laughing weakly and bringing an arm up to hug them back. "it's good to see you, too," she says sardonically.
harper gently lets her go, leaning back to give her some space. "sorry," they say sheepishly, retaking their seat.
"don't be," kate is quick to respond, picking harper's hand up where it rests on the bed and just… holding it.
harper can feel their face heat up at the simple touch, something they aren't very used to receiving or seeing her perform. "u-um…"
kate's face falls slightly. "oh, i just thought… never mind," she says, slipping her hand out of harper's.
"no!" they say quickly, grasping her hand. "no, it's okay, i just wasn't expecting it."
kate smiles something small at harper and intertwines their fingers, and harper feels their heart melt a bit.
"finally!" a loud voice from behind interjects, causing kate and harper to jump apart. jason comes sauntering in, wearing his costume sans helmet, and stops to lean on the end of kate's bed. "which one of you decided to fess up? was it kate? please tell me it was, replacement's gonna owe me big time."
kate and harper both blink at jason, turning to look at each other in bewilderment before turning back to jason. he looks between them, and furrows his brow. "what? what are you looking at me like that for?"
the door to the medbay is suddenly thrown open again, and in comes stephanie. "jason, you freaking moron!" she yells, grabbing the man by the back of his leather jacket and bodily hauling him out of the room. "don't mind him, you two continue!" stephanie throws over her shoulder, the door slamming behind her.
harper and kate sit in the silence the disruption leaves for a few moments, staring at the closed door. surprisingly, it's kate who breaks it.
harper turns to her, staring open-mouthed as her twinkling laugh fills the room. "sorry, sorry," she says between giggles, covering her mouth with one hand. "those kids, i swear."
harper blinks at her for a second before starting to chuckle themself. "yeah, no kidding," they say with a shake of their head. "what the hell was he even talking about?"
kate gives harper an amused look. "probably about how we've been dancing around each other for the past few months."
harper tilts their head at her. "what do you mean?"
kate sighs, reaching for their hands again. "i think i need to hold your hand when i say this," she starts, and waits until both of hers are in harper's before continuing. "i've been flirting with you basically constantly for the past four months."
harper thinks they might feel a breaker in their head flip. "huh?" they say, thinking they must surely have heard wrong.
kate sighs exasperatedly. "come here, idiot," she says, and it's all the warning harper gets before her lips are on theirs.
now, harper doesn't have zero experience when it comes to kissing. but there's a very, very stark difference between that one boy in freshman year of high school and kate fucking kane. but harper manages to not make a complete fool of themself, gently kissing kate back, just simple presses of lips.
kate is eventually the one to pull back, and she smiles that small, beautiful smile at harper. "so i'm assuming that means you…?"
harper's nodding before she even gets halfway through the sentence, leaning to rest their forehead on hers. "yeah, i've kinda had a crush on you since we met."
kate makes a noise of disbelief. "you've liked me for that long and you never said anything? what the hell!" she responds, her words laced with equal parts exasperation and adoration.
harper shrugs sheepishly. "never thought you'd like me back."
"and how would you know if you never asked?"
harper looks to the side, thoroughly chastised, but kate turns their head back with a finger hooked on their chin. "you're an idiot. but you're my idiot."
harper can feel heat rise to their face. "yeah," they say. "yours."
Words: 3075
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage Sex
Prompts: Sex Pollen, De-Aging
The villainous Floronic Man’s latest schemes for Gotham go far deeper than some sinister violent weeds. And Batwoman is the first of many to fall under its terrifying thrall.
Written for week 4 of @batship-winter week 4 - Jason Todd under the prompts “Lazarus Pit” & “Somnophilia”.
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Jason Todd/Damian Wayne
Fandom: Batman - All Media Types
Warnings: Underage Sex
Wordcount: 2.5k
Tags: Pseudo-Incest, League of Assassins, Introspective POV, Extreme Underage, Consensual Underage Sex, (Seriously Damian is 10), Established Relationship, Lazarus Pit, Somnophilia, Boypussy, Damian Wayne Has A Vagina, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Jason & Damian met in the League of Assassins
Summary:
Damian isn’t asking to be tucked in. He’s not asking to be put away like a weapon not currently being used. He isn’t even really asking to rest. It’s about the waking up part that matters. Saying ‘take me to bed’ rather than simply falling asleep in Jason’s arms and trusting him to get Damian to the safety of his room means something.
Written for @batship-winter Week 3 - Barbara Gordon under the prompt “Only One Bed”.
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Barbara Gordon/Damian Wayne
Fandom: Batman - All Media Types
Wordcount: 3.8k
Tags: Aged-Up Characters, Alternate Universe, Pseudo-Incest, Only One Bed, Paraplegic Barbara Gordon, Older Woman/Younger Man, Age Gap, Getting Together, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Masturbation
Summary:
A dark, henna decorated hand drops to Barbara’s shoulder and squeezes slightly before moving away. Damian isn’t a touchy feely guy like Dick so it’s clearly a show of comfort. “Is there any way an extra duvet and a few pillows can be allotted?”
Cassandra Cain/Barbra Gordon F/F word count: 2,187 words
Holiday (New Year's Eve)/Charity Gala, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Bonus Prompt:Proposal
Gotham - Charity Gala at the newly renovated, Wayne Manor
During no man's land, Cassandra couriered messages between the Oracle aka Barbara Gordon, and Alfred, the gentleman's gentleman, she’d travelled the length and breath of Gotham city.
From the Gotham Harbour where Hunters ruled, to Robinson Park where Ivy was contained, cultivating flowers, producing fresh food for the city forming some kind of understanding with Batman.
To the other parts - Gotham river to WatchTower, of the Gotham police - the Blue Boys and the Justice building, where TwoFace held a mockery of court.
She used the rooftop highway as Dick - NightWing called it. Cassandra had walked the streets, climbed fire escapes, and balconies and hidden dumpsters. Cass was familiar with every alcove, out cropping and gargoyle, to hide, to protect her from the cold or the rain. Except Wayne Manor.
Not during the Wake of Barbra’s step-mother. The opening of the borders, removal of the mines, the Apache helicopter's farewell.
But tonight she was here. As a guest of Barbara Gordon at the first Gala after the opening of the borders, Gotham was no longer No Man’s Land. Gotham was part of a country again.
A lot changed in one year since the earthquake. Cassandra had a name. She went by Cass as well.
Cass belonged to the Batfamily, and all that went with it. She was no longer jealous of Barbara and her father, as she had one of her own, in Alfred.
Cassandra could talk. Which was also nascent. She sounded like a toddler, all grunts and tonal sounds with no volume control.
Her speech sounded wrong to her own ears.
Learning to talk can be very difficult for a person who’s deaf from birth or became deaf at a very early age. Cass, was neither.
Cass rubbed her forehead at the memory. At the sound of her attempts at speech.
No one made fun of her.
Not by word.
Not by gesture.
But micro-expressions of pity leaped through. Cass saw it and couldn’t unsee it.
No one understood her, saw her, as she did them.
Cass watched Barbara Gordon - amazingly beautiful, smart, independent, empathetic and even though kind of differently abled, holds her own well against all the warlords during no man's land.
She laughed, her red hair catching the twinkle lights of the high ceiling. She shoulders shook, eyes crinkled prettily at some joke Dick, the first robin made.
Class couldn't hear them over the noise of the crowd, she could see genuine in Barbara's green eyes. A wave of possessiveness flashed through her body, followed by shame.
Barbara deserved this bit of happiness. A New Year, new beginnings and old friends.
Cass shook her head as she turned her back to the room, walked down the corridor leading from the ball room, and Barbara to the veranda and the garden beyond.
She was stopped short by someone leaning against the railing above the steps. A girl. About her age, dressed in dark blue gown, a cape flowing from her regal back and a hood, down, resting on slim muscled shoulders.
Cassandra instantly recognised her posture. She was Raven. The only one able to travel at will to Gotham and then back to the outside world.
Cassandra had only met her twice. The first time was when she transported Nightwing to the ClockTower. Then later, the female superhero approached her. A hand on her shoulder compassion in her indigo eyes.
Even though she didn't turn in greeting, Cassandra could read body language. Raven knew she was here. Perhaps Raven was giving Cassandra the option of joining her or to ignore her and move on to the garden. Bye for lonesome.
The sounds of the party, of the crowds behind them dimmed. Cassandra wasn't sure how, but without her saying a word, Raven knew how Cass felt. Again she was considering her feelings - of being lost in the crowd. People asked her questions and she was too self-conscious of the sounds she made, to answer.
Without turning, Raven tapped one block heel clad foot. Demonstrating her impatience. Make a choice, Raven’s gesture said. And that made Cassandra smile.
She looked wistfully at Raven. And at the maze beyond her shoulder.
Raven uncrossed her bare arms, the midnight cape moved on its own, to cover her shoulder, a protection from the chilly night air as Raven walked towards the garden.
“Follow me,” she whispered. The words were unnecessary, Cass understood her perfectly without them. But perhaps this was Raven signalling the end of non-verbal communication.
Cass considered for a moment.
She was out of place at the Manor, the event, in her A line, loose fitting Qipao Chinese style black dress with a long slit on the side for mobility. The black floral print attire covers her chin to wrist to ankle. And yet she fells exposed.
With nothing better to do than follow, Cass works her way to Raven slowly, testing the uneven ground under the grass in her ballet flats.
Raven didn’t look back, yet Cass could see that the moment she joined Raven at the Woden bench at the mouth of the maze, she was going to be forced to talk.
“Don’t,” Raven said.
“What?” Cass whispered, modulating her voice to fringe innocence. And inwardly cringe at the sound she made. Her voice an unruly bark in the quiet night.
Her lip quivers.
Cassandra knows how to mouth the words. She practised lip movements in front of a mirror with Barbara standing behind as a guide. Cass can lip read. She has no difficulty understanding language anymore.
At Raven’s unimpressed expression, Cass takes the gesture for what it is. A reprieve.
Raven is making a concession. The conversation won't be wholly verbal!
Before she knows it, Cassandra laughs.
A sound of pure joy leaves her mouth. It transcends all language and even to it. Her own critical years, it is full of happiness.
The sound of Raven’s surprised laughter joins her own. Creating the most beautiful music that only the living can create.
Cassandra can see it in Raven’s eyes. A couple of things hit her in quick succession.
(1) The world continued to turn while Gotham was shrouded as no man's land. And it probably wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.
(2) Raven herself has been through some stuff.
(3) And yet here Raven is, with her presence, asking after Cassandra. Caring about Cass’s well-being.
Cassandra can feel her smile about to dim. And while the laughter dies down, she catches herself. No matter what has happened. It is her choice to be happy. To be a hero.
She continued on, following Raven to the bench in then empty Garden.
By the time, she sat down beside Raven, she had the distinct impression that the garden was not empty, or deserted by chance.
Raven raised her brow. And almost, what of it?
Cassandra raised her hands in the air, in surrender.
That got a silent laugh out of Raven. Her dark brows quivering.
It seemed to Cassandra every time Raven smiles or laughed, she was surprised by her capacity to still do so. What happened in the outside world, Cassandra thought not for the first time tonight?
Ravan shook her head in response, loosing a curl, covering Half her face, the half that was towards Cassandra.
Wishing you it, her fingers were raising her bronze skin, pushing the curl behind her hair, and then behind Raven's shoulder, revealing ocean eyes, winded a fraction.
Cassandra almost leaped back on the bench. Contrite. Flabbergasted at her own thoughtless boldness.
Raven size crinkled in amusement, surprise leaving her face. It was almost Maternal her expression. No Cassandra corrected herself. It was sisterly.
Raven waved her hand in the air as of sweeping the incident as unimportant.
Tell me,” she said. Her voice held an ethereal hypnotic quality. Inviting Cassandra to confide in her.
Something tickled at the back of her brain for a moment, Cassandra chewed her lip, indecisiveness seizing her vocal cords.
Cassandra had the impression that if she didn't answer now, she’d never have the chance again.
Ravan wouldn't press her to open up.
And so she did.
She tried to explain through words, and then when the idea couldn't be put into words, through gestures and mining everything she’d been, still was feeling.
The things she felt for her guardian and her mentor, Barbra Gordon.
How she’d cried when she fled her father. Who only wanted her to kill. How lost Cass had been, nameless and voiceless. trying to find her sense of morality after being a murderer.
How Barbra took her in.
Named her.
Fed her.
Gave Cass a mission she could be proud off.
Raven nodded, telling her she understood. Cass looked at the dark haired beauty and she felt, Raven really did understand.
Cass frown a moment. She was having difficulty articulating how she chose Barbara’s father, protected Commissioner Gordon with her own body, over her father. Confronting her father, the assassin - David Cain.
And now here they were, Barbara, beautiful and laughing, inside celebrating with guests, and Cass, Raven listing as she poured all the anguish of loving her friend, her mentor, the one who taught her to trust. To love, who smiled at her in the most Maternal way, while Cassandra was in love with her.
How she felt lost in a new world, yet again. And how ashamed she was missing, nostalgic for no man's land, a time when so many had suffered as anarchy and lawlessness ensued.
It was a pity, Raven thought, Barbara isn't here to hear Cassandra pour her heart out. Anyone with an ounce of sense would mind their own business.
Right?
But then, when it came to feelings, no one was logical or smart. And empathy, the ability to feel what others feel is voyeuristic in itself.
It wasn't the first time Raven had felt this need to help others. She leaned in with her unique senses and could feel rising sense of affection. They could be happy. And I am not going to restrain myself when I can bring a bit of joy into the world.
Raven, the strongest empath in the known universe was about to have some voyeuristic fun.
Cassandra was too busy in her own head to see the glimmer of satisfaction in Raven’s eyes.
Barbara Gordon - Oracle, was the original BatGirl. Unlike the Robbins, she chose the mantle without permission.
Barbara understood the power of Batman. After her father made it clear he wouldn't allow her join the police. She chose to take up the bat symbol, protect her city her way.
And regardless of her actions as a masked vigilante, Barbara Gordon lost her legs. She lost her city to blown bridges and Apache helicopters - not to protect the citizens, but to stop anyone from leaving.
Barbara lost her lover - NightWing, it was mutual, but still. And finally, her stepmother sacrificed herself to save the world. The Gotham part of it.
When Raven ferried Nightwing, the other Robins into Gotham, she got a good read on the Oracle.
Barbara Gordon may not be Batman, but her aura and energy was close to being as dark. And Raven wanted to save the original BatGirl from that abyss.
And now, Raven felt confident in making it so.
Raven, having decided to play Cupid wasted no time.
Raven cast out her senses, found Barbara Gordon. Her blue eyes darting around the room. Raven felt confident in presuming the redhead was searching for her, Protégé.
“I have a proposal.” An astral projection of Raven, that looked very much like the real thing, said to Barbara.
“Proposal?” She’d almost dropped her drink in surprise. But recovered quickly.
Raven using the table behind Barbara Gordon as support, she ignored a few drops of punch on the satin fabric, preserving the former BatGirl’s dignity.
Regardless of the strategy used, it’s vital Barbara Gordon be unsteady. There was no morality in matters of love and war. And she knew how to deal with her.
She opened the Oracle’s mind to the possibility of happiness. Shielding her from all the negative thoughts. What if’s like, failure and loss.
“Remember the last time I was at the ClockTower.”
Barbara nodded, browse creasing in confusion on where this was going.
“I had occasion to meet a beautiful girl.”
Barbara, stop nodding and frowned harder.
Ravan was satisfied by the feelings, eliminating from the seated woman.
“What was her name?” Raven pretended to think about it, waving a hand in the air, as if to catch the thought.
“Casey?”
“Cassandra” Barbara said a firm, no nonsense, tone.
“Ah yes, Cass.” She waved her hand pointing towards Cassandra, who on Raven’s urging for a drink, was entering the ballroom.
Heading towards the table, ladened with food and drink. Heading towards Barbara and the astroprojection that was Raven.
Barbara, once her eyes snagged Cassandra, walking sure and graceful across the room, Raven was forgotten.
Target acquired.
The astral projection fell, dissolved into air.
Leaving the lovers, alone in the crown, a phenomena, a magic exclusive to those in love, allowing nature to take its course.
Stephanie Brown, after a long week chasing, yet another Arkham breakout, stretched her arms above her head to let out the kinks.
Muscles screamed in protest, an ache settles deep into her bones, dull, persistent that seemed to resonate with every heartbeat.
The TV blinked, bring her back, streaming some show Steph’d recommended to Cass. A catch up on pop culture kinda thing.
Last week, while the whole family watched some show from ancient times Bruce put on in the main theatre about a talking car, a silent alert rang out.
A DefCon 2, a little more common than they should've been, yet could only mean one thing.
Arkham breakout.
Shorthand for a large‑scale Arkham Asylum escape.
The last time was about 2 and a half years ago. Step’d been a teenager then. So had Cass.
Spoiler and Orphan.
Then Robin and BatGirl.
And now we are both BatGirls.
I sigh in contentment, dead tired.
I feel like I need match sticks to keep my eyes open, like the cartoon cat on screen. Besides me on the other end of the sofa Cass lays her head on the round armrest. Her bronze eyes half lidded, watches the screen as the matchsticks snap and the animated cat in outrage prepares to retaliate on the cartoon mouse.
Regardless of her gaze, I can feel her attention on me. I should be sleeping. The rest of them are. Damien, Dick and Jason are home for once, sleeping in their, less used rooms. Soreness throbs at the thought.
I, who lived in poverty, have my own room I could be sleeping in, instead is considering a booster to stay awake longer. If my trembling hands can manage the shot.
My room, like many in the Manor is airy, spacious and warm. I've added my eclectic eggplant air to the elegant functionality. And I love that space. But my favourite place in the BatMansion is the mini theatre, in an alcove I am currently in. Mid-way from Cass’s room and mine, we fitted a 30’ inch tv, dragged old couches and rugs to create a warm, cosy haven with dark wood floors and no windows. So comfy. I think the cushions have actually moulded themselves to my body shape. As has Cass’s side to her, I think after all the time we spend on it. Which is any time we're not out patrolling or in classes or at our respective extracurricular. For Cassandra Cain, that means ballet and for me - martial arts training.
When I started my mission all that time ago, I thought I was all that. Falling in love with superhero life, I grew stronger, faster, more agile, learnt computer, mechanics.
Then, after Batman’s training, I again thought I was all that. Until I met Cassandra Cain. I learnt what peak agility and being an exceptional martial artist was.
I am often asked why a train so hard. My skill is not less. And with the other BatGirl at my side in the field, do I really need to improve?
The thing is, I'm not trying to compete with Cass as Damian believes. What I want, what I truly believe in is a safer Gotham. It is my passion. My mission in life. And so I must always draw stronger and be a successful BatGirl, a willing partner and friend Cass can rely on.
I'm still in my fighting outfit. At least the body suit part of it, which could conceivably mimic exercise clothes in a pinch. This is not by coincidence. Barbara designed it to be so. We’ve all learnt the hard way to leave our recognisable gear in the BatCave.
It's not that I enjoy being in this sweaty stinky outfit. But after a week of catching cat nap here and there, while in emergency mode that we were. I've not had time to do laundry.
Alfred did our laundry. But when we shucked our teenage self, we decided anybody above 20 could cook and clean and take care of themselves. Which gives Alfred a bit of a reprieve and us some real life experience. Which is good because I was growing reliant on him, and I'm playing with the idea of moving out. Besides, this last week or so was particularly hard on Alfred.
I sit up straight. The least I could do is look awake. I try to. But the only thing that changes is Cass’s attention on me, earlier cursory, has sharpened.
I treble. At her attention or the exhaustion. Could be either or both.
I fear she may tell me to go to my room to get some rest. She would be right to do so. That is what I should do. I find myself reluctant to leave even for much needed recovery. The time we have together is precious. With me, thinking of moving out - I don't want to squander even a moment of it.
Instead of speaking, Cass gets off the couch in one sleek, smooth, graceful, move.
She walks over to me. Standing in front of me. At my wide eyes, she only smiles. I draw myself up with some attempt at dignity, and she looks me Sq in the eye. Offering her hand.
I'm dead, tired.
The exhaustion in its extreme rushes up to me all at once. My head is swimming, but I steal myself. I push my blonde unkept curls behind my ear with one hand and with the other eye clasp Cass’s.
For years Cassandra Cain, daughter of Lady Shiva - not that she’d been aware at the time, and Mr. Cain, trained in total silence by her father. Even in my mind, I spit the word out like a curse. Father. What a complicated term.
A product of her upbringing, Cass reads body language with absolute accuracy.
And it informs her actions. Instead of using vocabulary, she helps me up. Taking my not so inconsiderable weight on her shoulder, her dark eyes, survey the room in quick darting glances.
Satisfied she leads me over the Persian rug, we pass by handcrafted tables, desks, broom closets. The mansion is massive with identical furniture commissioned by the ancestors and long uniform passageways, it's easy to get turned around. That's why it takes my sleep addled brain a full minute before it realises Cass is taking me towards her room, not mine.
At the questioning look in my blue eyes, Cass looks down at me and smiles.
I feel a sense of warmth at her attention. I am usually an inch or tow taller than Cass, but the way she shoulders me, I can only look up at her.
I know the corridor as well as I know myself, and I find myself holding her gaze longer. Reluctant to break the contact. The emotional connection.
I hope she feels as I do.
Touch is how Cass expresses her affection. Cass is a sensitive, of that I am sure, maybe in a magical way, I don't know.
What I do know, is that consciously or unconsciously she keeps a physical distance from others that are not family. Except with me when I find myself often touching her, grooming her hair, helping her with her skin routine. Adjusting her clothes. Which I realise our subtle ways of closing the physical distance between us. Cass smiles. She doesn't step away. Like how she’s looking into my eyes as we walk to her room, a light flush on her cheeks, up to her slanted unturned eyes. Eyes like dark pools, all pupils, I am like always captivated by her presence.
I wonder what she reads when Cass looks at me. Am I obvious to her?
I smile back.
She hasn’t said a word since she grasped my shoulder, taking my weight and guiding me. We are almost to her room and I have no idea why. Is Cass inviting me to sleep? Why not out me to bed in my room I wonder. The alternatives as I think of them leave me breathless. She releases me in a bid to open the room’s door and I'm afraid I'll pass out.
Cass is quick to grasp my swaying form, hugging me to her.
More mussel and mass than you’d think at first glance. I notice yet again, I’m not much taller than her, bulky though, compared to her leanness. But we are similar in size, having swaped our vigilante cuniform in a pinch or to confuse our opponents.
Keep them guessing as Barbara always says.
Every time I enter her room, I feel a smile on my face. This morning is no different. A mirror of mine. But it couldn't be more contrasting. Having never expressed herself in her childhood, Cassandra Cain's room is a sample of everything a teenage girl could potentially enjoy.
She has bars installed by Dick, to keep up her agility without leaving her intimate space.
She has a chest of drawers at the foot of her bed filled with every plated weapon known to man.
A dresser, with a bench and a mirror on top filled with Polaroid photographs - Batfamily in their civilian identities filled to the brim with make up accessories, diaries, cute stationary.
Walking across her room, I noticed I feature the most in the pics, and I hope it means what I hope it means. I don’t dare ask. Respecting boundaries is crucial in our relationship.
The other side of the cosmetic filled dresser is a wardrobe with privacy screen to the side. A basket rest on the floor filled with freshly laundered clothes waiting to be put away.
When did Cass find the time? I wonder.
Unconcerned by my musings, Cass pushes me behind the privacy screen near her wardrobe, clearly asking me to strip.
She opens the door to her wardrobe rifle around.
I stand there, behind the screen. But after I strip, I’ll - what? Not body shy I remove the suit Babs designed for me. and cringe at the smell. Not rank yet, but not too far from it. With the last of my Energy, I push it off. 1 foot out, and then the other. And now I am done.
I'm not sure how long I stand there only that when I look up gas standing before me, her hands filled with clothes, some in plastic wrapping.
She makes a motion for me to raise my hands, which I do without question.
I'm too tired to do much else, and my eyes rest on her face. This slide smile playing on her lips.
I hear a rust of plastic and then something is hugging my chest blocking the cold air. She hugs, me, and I feel the zipper clasp up my back. I smell, fresh cloth smell. And I think the object of my affection just put a zip spots bra on me.
I’d cringe in embarrassment if I had the energy.
The hair on the back of my arms, the back of my neck is standing up. It seems I can react. I'm not sure why I am lifting a leg, and then the other. Cass must've asked me in that silent way of hers, barely conscious, her directions I obey.
And then it is dark and safe and wad and soft.
Next thing, I know, I open my eyes and stare up at the high ceiling of the BatMansion.
It takes me a moment to note the warm colour palette and cluttered functional aesthetic of Cass’s room.
I’m in Cass’s bed, the thought jerks me wide awake. And I’m sitting up, cover at my lap.
I am in Cass's room.
In her bed, the colour of the T-shirt I spy with my eye is any indication, she shared her clothes with me.
As the most eligible bachelor of Gotham’s high society scene, Bruce Wayne is not a stranger to receiving proposals from eligible bachelorettes. However, his daughter Cassandra does not appreciate other women thinking they have a chance to take him away from her.
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