YOU KILL, I KILL YOU.

[knightbat]

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&. 𝙆𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏𝘽𝘼𝙏 , a private and selective ( highly adaptable ) roleplay blog. written for a canon removed interpretation of, 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚁𝙰 𝙲𝙰𝙸𝙽, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘢𝘵, 𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭. compliant with pre-52 and dawn of dc works. minors & personals dni, you will be blocked. anti birds of prey film, dceu, the killing joke. bat signaled by by 𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙋𝙃 ,  𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 / 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 ,  𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙮4.

𝐈. 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐈. 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐕. 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐕. 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝐕𝐈. 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒

&. 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 / 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ,

read my statements on cassandra's disabilities & skills prior to interacting.

this blog is pre-52 based. i am generally non-compliant in regards to new-52, rebirth, the birds of prey movie, most of dceu and other dc animated movies. i don't care if if you write within these timelines but i just won't SPECIFICALLY in regards to cassandra. i'm still open to interacting with some characters and iterations from these timelines.

i am NOT interested in downplaying cassandra's personality or abilities. this is your warning: cass is one of THE best martial artists in the entirety of dc. she also is incredibly off putting and does not care about societal norms. if any of this bothers you, block me!

i am currently keeping up to date with cassandra's new dawn of dc run and will use it for inspiration in my writings. i also pull a lot of my influence from post crisis comics of hers, mainly from her batgirl runs (vol. 1-3), batgirl redemption, no man's land (vol. 1-4), batman: officer down, and gates of gotham vol. 1 (issues 1-5). if you are looking for cass content to read, these are what i would suggest!!

anything regarding shipping/romance will only occur with non-batgirl cass, as my batgirl-specific writings will MAINLY occur when she is UNDERAGE. even when she is batgirl and 18+, i am not interested. shipping/romance will ONLY occur with her other adult verses, specifically when she is the black bat.

i WILL NOT ship anything romantic, sexual, etc. with her family / family adjacent characters -- ie. bruce wayne, david cain, lady shiva, talia al ghul, ra's al ghul, alfred pennyworth, barbara gordon, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne, helena wayne, the mad dog, and marque. don't come to me and ask, it's fucking weird and gross. anti bat-cest, i will call you out so fucking fast for this.

[knightbat]

superhero summer is here and i am so Back

[notmorbid]

longlegs.

dialogue prompts from longlegs (2024).

half psychic is better than not psychic at all.

maybe we'll just call you 'highly intuitive'.

can you stay on the line?

you know, there's such a thing as looking too long.

i must have lost track of time.

i'll drink while you tell me things.

it's almost like ____ was never there at all.

you didn't call to say goodnight.

even veals grow a little, and they grow up in a box with their legs all tied up.

i spent the day at home. where else would i be?

i'm okay. i just can't sleep.

i saw more than my fair share of nasty stuff.

i think i just need to be quiet for a little bit.

somebody's birthday is coming up.

be careful they don't work you too hard, alright?

are you still saying your prayers?

you're not afraid of a little bit of dark because you are the dark.

i've seen you before.

you've been to my house.

it's like a long dream, and so dark. a world of dark.

do you remember coming here?

what aren't you telling me?

when was the last time you talked to your mother?

will you tell me the honest truth about something?

i never said my prayers, never once. they scared me.

all our prayers don't help us. prayers don't do a goddamned thing.

nobody ever came to visit. no family, no strangers, no big bad wolves. not anybody.

you're not a child because you were allowed to grow up.

this is a cruel world, especially for the little things. not all of them are allowed to live.

i might have forgotten everything i could, but i never threw anything away.

you really don't remember?

now you're free, too.

i'm just a friend of a friend.

i'm doing this for you. just like i've always done.

don't call me that.

[leneemusing]

CONFRONTATIONS

“  you have to talk to someone,  eventually.  it doesn’t have to be me,  but.  you need to.  ”

“   i’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.  ”

“  you may like to pretend,  but i don’t.  something is wrong and you’re hiding it from me.  ”

“  you can’t even say that and look me in the eyes.  you’re clearly lying.  just tell me the truth.  ”

“  everyone else might be buying it,  but i don’t.  what’s wrong?  ”

“  you’re not fine.  you’re clearly not fine.  and you don’t have to keep saying that you are.  ” 

“  you can talk to me,  you know.  whatever you have to say,  i’m not gonna judge you or do anything.  i just want to listen.  ”

“  you can’t run away from this forever.  ”

“  i can’t keep acting like i don’t see something is wrong with you.  ”

“  you keep acting like if you let down your guard the world will end.  ”

“  stop brushing me off.  i know something is going on.  ”

“  hey— look at me.  you can talk to me.  ”

“  i don’t know if you think you’re being strong or protecting me,  but i don’t need you to keep painting on smiles when you’re clearly upset.  ”

“  why don’t you trust me enough to let me in?  ”

“  you think if you run around taking care of everyone else,  no one will notice you’re falling apart.  ”

“  you keep acting like you’re looking for an excuse to leave.  ”

“  stop.  just stop trying to avoid this.  shutting me out isn’t going to fix the problem.  ”

“  you do realize you don’t have to do this alone right?  ”

“  you think you’re handling this on your own but you’re not.  that’s not how it works when the people who care about you can see you’re suffering but refusing to ask for help.  ”

“  you don’t get a choice this time.  i’m helping you.  ”

“  why do you keep lying to me like i don’t know ever time you try it?  ”

“  i don’t know why you seem to think you have to hide your pain.  ”  

“  i don’t know why you thought i wasn’t going to notice.  but i see right through you.  ” 

“  i know you’re having nightmares again.  ”

“  why are you acting like this?  ”

“  don’t change the subject.  i saw you crying.  ”  

“  you fucked it up.  ”

“  what the hell is wrong with you?  ”

“  just tell me what the fuck the problem is?  ”

“  did you just flinch away from me?  ”

“  i trusted you. why can’t you trust me too?  ”  

[knightbat]

if anyone is wondering who cass is you just need to know these two things: 1. she 'conquered' and lived with a pack of WOLVES for a while (they all hunted together too! <3) 2. she was so mad that a murderer killed someone that she stopped his heart for a little so he could 'see what it felt like' (a very teachable moment!)

[bat-girled]

Has this been done

[yyzh0u]

cass!!

[xiaolanhua]

NI NI as YE LIU XI Parallel World 西出玉门 (2023) – Ep. 27

[knightbat]

@byanyan : " why are you helping me? "

𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝙱𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙻𝙰𝚈 ... unconscious against the wet concrete by their feet, the batgirl stands hovering above, their eyes gazing down to ensure two things: that their chests are still moving from the labored breaths they take & that they stay down. the other stands nearby, neither phased by the half dead gang members or by their stitched cowl, long pointed bat ears turn faintly to glance at them. they must be around her age, maybe a little bit older, hardly by the way they seem so on edge - batgirl couldn't blame them, the yellow symbol strung across their chest came off more as a warning than anything, it's better not to trust anybody in this crime ridden city.

and yet, the girl merely ties the criminals hands together and props them up against the brick wall - the strength from this teenager seems almost impossible, superhuman. they have yet to make a running break for it, cassandra thinks that they're going to - though instead, questions her motives. she would help anybody in need, but maybe she worked extra hard this time around, for no particular reason. " my job. " a truth, though explanation runs short and curt out of necessity, not want. " you. hurt? "

[preposterousjams]

from Batgirl (2000) issue #61

[fightwing]

the rush of the chase (and non-life threatening at that!) was a thrill. rather than spending hours standing at the gate, wondering whether or not he was going to go in, rather than take slow, purposeful, painful steps and praying (horribly) something goes very wrong in bludhaven that would give him a plausible out . . . he's running, no SPRINTING towards the ominous grand doors. he doesn't even really realize he's there until he's made a rather performative flip to entirely bypass the stairs and comes to an abrupt stop at the doorbell. OH. they're here. " he's a forgiving guy. " he says it a bit absently, because while that's true and dick would forever be grateful for the love alfred afforded him, his mind has wandered a bit farther from their grandfather. last time he saw jason he was punched in the face. last time he saw tim, he hadn't said a word and somehow that was just as painful. dick didn't blame them, not even a little. his only excuse was the blinding grief of losing damian back then and the power of bruce's persuasion --- both of which didn't exclusively happen to him and yet nobody else seemed to go around faking their deaths. his fault, his fault, his fault. dick rocks on his feet a little bit, only barely stopping himself from taking steps back. he's never been good at this part and he desperately wants to go back to the lighthearted fun they'd taken refuge in. his eyes wander back over to his sister, nodding his head back towards the entrance they'd just painstakingly come from with a joking, pleading smile. " best out of three? "

[knightbat]

𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴 𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝚂 ... because right now, he's bigger, faster, stronger, better - maybe it makes her shoulders drop a little lower than they usually sit, because it should've been a chance to win, where fun is only granted for the one that comes up on top. a girl that can outrun bullets lost in her own courtyard, of her own home - or maybe, this isn't and will never be her home. the clocktower that stands miles away seems more of a stand in than anything else, and though filed adoption papers state the prestigious last name clearly - she's not one of them. she knows it, and she believes somewhere deep down, they all know it too. maybe that's just how it is supposed to be.

and yet cassandra still looks at him with a half cocked smile on their face - of course he wins, he's nightwing. and in these moments, when they both are not wearing the cowl, that is all she sees when she looks up into his features, a hero that never loses (even when he should).

that doesn't mean he's perfect, no - he's buying himself some time. the way he almost winces when he speaks, it only makes her provide him an empty, blank, unhelpful stare. " no. " it's curt, short and to the point as she always is, not usually by choice. her hand goes to push the imposing front doors open, unlocked as they are because alfred knew that they were coming. she steps inside first, and lets the door begin closing behind her. " if you win again, i die. " ( only perhaps an ego death; however, if she truly were to lose their little race twice in a row, she might as well die. )

[rainystarters]

⭒˚｡🖁‧₊˚ 〖 down these mean streets . . . 〗 a collection of scene prompts inspired by n͟e͟o͟-n͟o͟i͟r͟, v͟i͟o͟l͟e͟n͟c͟e͟, c͟o͟n͟t͟r͟o͟l͟, e͟t͟c͟. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the receiving muse to be "the sender" instead. adjust details as necessary.

dead end. there's nowhere left to run; the sender has cornered you at last. anonymous. disguising your voice, you call the sender to threaten/warn them. loose ends. you thought you killed them! but there's the sender, walking your way. ashtray. your cigarette smokes as you extinguish it on the sender's skin. deck. you lick the sender's blood from your knuckles, still stinging from the punch. backstab. end of the road, pal—you reveal you're double-crossing the sender. blunt. hidden in the shadows, you press your gun to the sender's back.

heel. you stare at the sender from across the room and beckon them to you. fix. not looking like that—disapproving, you fix the sender's appearance. tilt. you take the sender's chin in your hand and make them meet your gaze. staccato. irritated, the sender drums their fingers against you beneath the table. listen. the sender disobeys and you swat their curious hand away. fasten. just something i picked up—you clasp a necklace/tie/etc. on the sender. quiet. you press a finger to the sender's lips and tell them to be patient.

vomit. you can't handle this; you vomit as the sender groans about leaving evidence. wink. don't worry—you wink as you assure the sender you have no morals to offend. up front. the sender's job is a doozy; you demand half the payment now or you walk. hush. talk is cheap but you sure aren't. you accept the hush money from the sender. crossfire. you realize the sender asking you to put out a hit is your next target. gulp. hard to argue with a bullet; you agree to the sender's demands. jugular. you hold your breath as the sender uses you to demonstrate how the murder weapon was used to strangle the victim.

patron. you know the sender is hired to keep you spending but you linger anyway. last call. the sender has one final cigarette in their pack; you take it without asking. loose lips. the sender pours you another glass as you finally confess. bills. it's on me—you pay for the sender's meal. cozy. there aren't enough seats open; you pull the sender onto your lap with a grin. coffee. you look like hell—you press a cup of coffee to the sender's hands. waiting. you duck into the bus stop to escape the rain, intruding on the sender.

gutter. the trail of blood ends and you find the sender broken on the ground. speak up. you press the knife in deeper as the sender swears they didn't betray you. plaster. it's not pretty but it'll do; you wince as the sender patches your wounds. empty. you laugh at the sender as you throw your gun aside, finally out of bullets. rat. the sender falls to their knees and agrees to tell you everything they know. smother. you clasp a hand over the sender's mouth to keep from being heard. cut our losses. the sender won't make it; you leave them to die.

voyeur. you know the sender's watching; you open the blinds so they can watch. slip of the tongue. the sender whispers another's name against your skin. sign here. the sender traces a finger over [your choice], asking you to leave a mark. desk. your most enticing assignment yet: the sender bent over your desk. handcuffs. the sender dangles the key, teasing, but you hope they take their time. window. you press the sender against the glass, watching the city watching them. harsh light. what's worse? the hangover or that you can't recall the sender's name.

[soulscollection]

"𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥" 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴.

i'm a sucker for that scene where one person is injured and alone and ends up knocking on another person's door in their hour of need, and i'm an even bigger sucker for the tending to the injuries and the quiet emotional content that follows, and i'm here to make it everyone else's problem! as always, to reverse the actions, just add "+ REVERSE" to the end! i made these prompts on @soulprompts , DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST OR REPOST OR CLAIM AS YOUR OWN.

from the injured.

" i didn't know where else to go... "

" whatever you've been told about me, whatever you've heard or seen or listened to... none of it's true. "

" at least i have you to look after me, eh? "

" would you believe me if i said i got all these injuries by slipping in the rain? "

" i'm sorry... i know this isn't what you signed up for. "

" you're the only one i can trust. "

" do you believe what they're saying about me? "

" aren't you going to say i told you so? "

" i am grateful, you know. for everything you've ever done for me... i notice. and i see you. and i've never thanked you properly before, so... thank you. "

" i know i must be the last person you expected to see tonight, but... i'm afraid i have nowhere else to turn to. "

" thank you for not asking questions. "

" i know you have no reason to believe me, much less to trust me, but... i promise you. i swear to you, i am being set up. "

" you know, you'd make a nice profit if you turned this place into a safehouse. "

" why are you helping me? "

" why the hell did you open your door for me if you're so angry at me?! "

to the injured.

" quickly, get in before anyone sees you... "

" you came to the right place. hurry, get in... "

" what the hell happened to you!? "

" are you going to tell me what happened to you tonight? "

" i assume that the rumors surrounding you are all false and unrelated to why you're bleeding out on my sofa? "

" do you honestly expect me to just forget about the past so i can bandage you up? "

" you don't need to thank me. you'd fix me up if i came to your door with this much trouble, too. "

" regardless of everything you've said and done in the past, there isn't a single part of me that wouldn't open the door when you're knocking on it. "

" we can talk in the morning. for now, you need to rest. "

" i found you unconscious on my doorstep. "

" oh, i get it. i can stitch you up and let you get blood all over my bed sheets until the cows come home, but heaven forbid i start to ask questions about why you're bleeding in the first place. "

" things must be really bad if you're trying to say i was your best chance at being helped. "

" don't be stupid. you're not going anywhere. come on, back into bed... "

" i called in sick. we have the whole day to figure out what your next moves are going to be. "

" good! you're awake. i was beginning to worry... "

" you're not allowed to die in my bedroom. the rumours would never stop... "

" perhaps we ought to let bygones be bygones. until i'm confident that you're not going to die on my sofa, that is. "

" it's a bit late to worry about dragging me into your mess, don't you think? "

" you know why i opened that door... "

ACTIONS.

[ BANDAGE ]: sender gently begins to bandage receiver's wounds.

[ BED ]: sender guides receiver into bed, tucking them in and taking a seat by their bedside.

[ FEVER ]: having noticed the receiver beginning to spike a fever, sender presses a cool cloth to their forehead to try and bring it down.

[ CLOTHES ]: after tending to the receiver's wounds, sender brings them fresh clean clothes to change into.

[ FOOD ]: after ensuring the receiver is safe and stable, sender brings them out a plate of food.

[ BATH ]: sender runs the recently-cared-for receiver a hot bath.

[ WAIT ]: aftering tending to the receiver's injuries, sender takes a seat across for them, and patiently waits for them to start explaining what happened.

[ CATCH ]: noticing the receiver beginning to collapse on their doorstep, sender hastily catches them and brings them inside.

[ KISS ]: sender, after being cared for by the receiver, breaks the tension that's been building since they walked through the door, and pulls them in for a kiss.

[ HOLD ]: having been bandaged and cared for by the receiver, sender unexpectedly reaches out to take their hand and hold it in a quiet, sincere gesture of gratitude.

[knightbat]

𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙺. without focus you're nothing. and that's what you really always wanted me to have --  𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶.  but you never asked me what i wanted. i wanted to read. i wanted to talk. i wanted a father. i wanted a family. 𝙸 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴!

a roleplay blog for , 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚁𝙰 𝙲𝙰𝙸𝙽. a private , selective , canon removed interpretation of the black bat & the batgirl. anti birds of prey film, dceu, the killing joke. 𝚋𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚑, 𝟸𝟺, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 /𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. minors and personals please do not interact. free p.alestine, c.ongo and s.udan. blogroll.

[sweeetestcurse]

Scenery in Mafia: Definitive Edition 01/??

[proditeur]

| txt — c. w. | : Lmao. My parents might have taken you up on the offer. But I'll handle them myself.

| txt — c. w. | : Did I catch you at a bad time?

| txt — c. w. | : We can do something tomorrow instead.

[knightbat]

[ text : regulus ] only if your ok [ text : regulus ] no. not bad time [ text : regulus ] was sleeping. but awake now and want to hang out [ text : regulus ] i had late night. fighting a racoon

[fightwing]

YEAH, YEAH, SOMETHING SOMETHING about betting on a losing horse. it's a fools game to challenge cass to ANYTHING, much less the accuracy and speed of their skill set but, well, dick's in a good mood. a foolish, blind to reason, good mood, but a good mood none the less. and well, the wayne's may not be blood but there's more than a few things he'd consider HEREDITARY. like, for example, competitiveness. suffice to say, dick plays to WIN. " twenty seconds for my full head, thirty seconds for streaks. " and of course, a dash of practicality. there's no doubting cass could do it with one second of intimidation alone but if dick's committing to this, then it's going to be worth his while. he places a foot on the ledge, masked eyes roaming the scene below them as their thugs continued their conversation and remained none the wiser. they were big dudes, fit the bill for the assumedly MUSCLE they were hired for but they were about to be humbled fast by black bat. the only question now was HOW FAST? dick moves away from the ledge. clearly he wasn't needed here as anything more than an INSTIGATOR, and if he was going to play then he was going for the GRAND PRIZE. " a milli-second over thirty and YOU tell b you were the one who lost his new tracking prototype. " b's newest invention wasn't 'LOST' so much as it was 'SUNK TO THE BOTTOM OF THE HARBOR' and it definitely wasn't 'cass' so much as 'richard john grayson', but those were all minor, MINOR details. something for cass to figure out when she lost because dick was feeling particularly lucky. he smirks, one eyebrow raised in interested CHALLENGE and a single hand held out between them to solidify the game. " deal? "

[knightbat]

𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝙰𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂 ... in their consideration of 20 or 30 seconds, and what she will be aiming for. if she was younger, naive, dumber, and with a deathly chip on her shoulder, this processing would never take place - instantly jumping off the balcony, colliding head and fist first into the goons below and surely, she would be telling batman about how she had lost this tracking prototype ( which of course, would actually make sense considering the recklessness of the former bat girl ). though here and now, age, experience, new found wisdom settles into the scars that only she sees when the cowl is removed, and cassandra waits.

to hear him out, to watch how he seems relaxed, only interested in their wager and not about the three idiots awaiting their timely demise. his demeanor can't help but bother them, only slightly, with how lucky he feels - he thinks she can do it, he thinks that this bet is a risky one, and yet, he takes it and provokes further, why?

maybe he really doesn't want to tell batman the truth. her eyes follow his smile to his hand, in which cassandra only meets him with an open palm, slapping his hand away loudly. it is sure to catch her opponents attention, and that is the point - because she swan dives off and when they look up to see what the noise was, her black boot collides and makes the first point of contact. 10 seconds go by, she remains untouched by the granted surprise, though now a pistol is pulled out and pointed between her eyes. redirection, a jab to one's stomach and the cracking of bones as she makes them shoot each other - two down, and 20 seconds are up.