An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The Fledgling by shewhowillnotbenamed1
Raven is cleansed of Trigon at last. While Damian fears for her safety, a small part of him fears her. Just who is this stranger who wants to disrupt routine to try something new? Does she still want the same things? After all the avoidance, it's finally time to contend with change, and the end of an emotional drought.
This is 1 of 2 pieces I completed for the 2020 DamiRae Fanzine.
This piece actually began as a response to a prompt taken past the point of no return. Which I am often want to do. I couldn't stop writing it until it became this. This answer was the alternate path I ended up posting. There is something about the vagueness of those prompts that I enjoy; it really opens up several possibilities at once.
We are thrilled to officially announce the dates and prompt list for Damirae Week 2026! Get ready for seven days of celebrating our favorite demon and bird duo.
🎬 MONDAY (8/24): Show Me Something
Themes: TV Shows, Movies, and Mixed Media.
Genres: Any genre goes! Sci-Fi, Drama, Anime, Comedy, Horror, Psychological Thriller, Noir, Rom-Com, Period Piece, or Mockumentary.
Media Ideas: Press conferences, publicity, documentaries, blogs, or gossip rags.
Themes: Great outdoors, getting lost in the wilderness, looking through camera rolls, honeymoons, or beach days.
Settings: Earth, interstellar travel, or interdimensional travel.
Scenarios: Campfire stories, summer camp, or a heroes' retreat.
⏳ WEDNESDAY (8/26): 2026 ＝ 2016
We are honoring this trend by paying homage to the year the Judas Contract movie was released.
Time Tropes: Time jumps, flashbacks, or a sudden return to the past.
Media Focus: Modernize something from the 2016 Titans/JL movie, comics, or general DC media.
Pop Culture: Create art, fics, videos, or playlists inspired by 2016 fashion, music, books, shows, and movies. Draw a direct parallel between 2016 and 2026.
🔮 THURSDAY (8/27): Magical Creatures & The Mystical
Mystical Elements: Fables, ancient artifacts, grimoires (Book of the Beast, Book of the Dead, Necronomicon, Book of Shadows), magical convergence, and gemstones.
Creatures: Vampires, incubi/succubi, wendigos, werewolves, hybrids, demons, mermaids, or sirens.
DC Lore: Justice League Dark, Occult, DC Vampires, Bombshells, League of Assassins artifacts, Temples of Azarath, Nanda Parbat, or the Church of Blood.
🦇 FRIDAY (8/28): Band of (Bat) Brothers & Sisters
The Bat-Family: Damian's side including Gotham, Talia, and Ra’s Al Ghul.
The Roth Family: Raven's side including Arella, her half-siblings, and Azarath.
Connections: Found family dynamics, and of course, Titus and all the pets!
💔 SATURDAY (8/29): Angst & Alternate Timelines / Free Day
This is so old and clearly, I'm on another WallyRae kick. Here is part one. The OG ask is from our lovely @ravenfan1242 AND she made some art!
In a dimly lit room there was a window facing the street, out from it were orange traffic cones cordoned off the shoulder of the road. Men in fluorescent vests stood in elevated cherry pickers, uncoiling string lights from the clingy branches of the trees lining the street. The last vestiges of holiday magic were being striped away. The Christmas trees lay abandoned on sidewalks awaiting their pick up later this week. Every last trace of merriment was cleared out, taken down, brought up to attics, or buried back in cupboards where they would remain until the end of the year.
So this was it. The holiday season was completely, one hundred percent, officially over. It was all so fleeting.
The cycle stopped only to spin again.
Everyone had long since returned from their vacations. All automatic replies were turned back off. Normalcy and schedules resumed. Relaxed attitudes were abandoned, while deadlines pressed in. It was as though the universe was screaming to its inhabitants: get over it. To all but one, who had yet to return to the office. And she would… Eventually.
Raven just needed a distraction. Though, there wasn’t much of anything special to look forward to for a while since Valentine's day had come and gone. Raven had spent it the way she always did, with her favorite trio of reliable companions. She could count on them because they always got the job done. She personally referred to them as the unholy trifecta: takeout, toys, television.
"I know you don't ever do this kind of thing, but..." Their mouths moved closer and closer until they were within inches of each other, staring into each other’s eyes.
It was about damn time, wasn’t it? They’d only been teasing the audience for over a season and a half.
“Exactly. I don’t do this kind of thing. I’m not that kind of woman…” She turned her cheek to him. “Besides, what would people think, Dorian?”
Again with these two? What was with them? It was a nonstop push and pull. Will they? Won’t they? It was frustrating. And yet… She was inexplicably fascinated and couldn’t bring herself to look away.
Besides, all this frustration was why she needed the toys in the first place.
Before Raven realized it she was five episodes deep and didn’t know how she’d gotten here. Raven slipped a kernel of popcorn into her mouth and swallowed hard. And followed it with another and another. Trying not to notice that she was masticating so vigorously she was practically grinding her teeth between mouthfuls. There was no use pretending—these romantic comedies were downright ridiculous. But deep down, she enjoyed them a little. Okay, more than a little. And she knew the main reason why she liked this one in particular. The appeal was all in the male lead. He was a dashing man with bright red hair.
And ever since he left…
Since Wally left and all she had to remember him by was his favorite mug that she had found on her desk the next morning after his departure. She hadn't had the heart to use it or to look at it. And she'd kept it covered up with a black scarf in the bottom of her cabinet ever since. Almost as if she’d been in mourning. But she was done with that place now.
"I don’t care what people think and neither do you, Sparrow. So please… Stop pushing me away... Don’t we owe it ourselves, to see what we could be—"
K-KNOCK KNOCKK
KNOCK
An odd and jarring knock pattern, sent popcorn flying as Raven careened out of her trance and bolted upright. She held a hand to her chest, quelling her pounding heart.
Could it be?
Was it really?
But—
"Raven—it's me."
"What is he…? How did he…?" she mumbled under her breath. She knew she wanted it to be Wally coming to her to make some grand gesture. But it was too good to be true. Maybe she’d been watching too many romantic soaps. Perhaps this was all some wonderful dream her subconscious had conjured up? Or it was possibly she’d accidentally fallen asleep on the couch again.
He knocked louder this time. “Raven, if you’re in there can you open up? Please?”
Could it actually be real?
She rose from her perch on the arm of the couch, tiptoeing to the door in a rush. She was in a daze, she was so lightheaded. Raven could scarcely believe it, even though she knew from the first knock, it had to be. Her shaky fingers ran through her mussed hair as she leaned her back against the door.
“I can hear you breathing, Raven,” he coaxed, his voice drawn even closer. There was a creak from the sound of his body pressing into the door. There were mere inches of wood separating the two of them. Slowly, she felt herself slowly slide to the ground, almost unconsciously, holding her trembling knees, just listening to the words reverberate through the other side of the door.
“Okay… I realize how that sounded and how this must look,” he continued. The teasing lilt was fading from his tone. He sounded the way she’d felt for months, anguished. “Was it the note? Maybe it was too much… Maybe I’m too much and that’s why I haven’t heard from you.”
The pounding from her heart was so violent, maybe he could hear that too. How was it that he could be so close and yet still feel far away?
“I heard you left your old company too,” he murmured. There was no humor anymore, he sounded serious and worried. About her. “That must have been a difficult decision.”
Yes, it had been. She still had more than a few regrets.
Raven squeezed her knees tightly to her chest. "Oh, Wally," she whispered. Now she could hear his ragged breathing and the way his hands were grasping the door hinge and the sweep of the vibrant red locks along the wood as if searching for a secret combination to unlock it.
Her door wasn't simply keeping them apart, it had become an impromptu confessional.
“I’m here for you if you need it.” Wally said, resolute. “Even if all you need is a friend…” He gave a soft final knock, and his feet shuffled as if he was preparing to walk away.
Hesitantly, she slid her palms up her side of the door as she lifted herself up to chance a glance through the peephole. Only to see an inquisitively bright seagreen orb staring straight back.
Thank you for blessing us all with this and your fanzine piece during canonaversary week! 😱 😍 Raven and Selina look incredible! (I love the way you draw Selina btw 🥰.) I love the expansion on one of our fav longstanding head canons: that Damian and Bruce have similar taste in women! And I am here for giving Raven ALL of the adoring mothers in law! 🐈🐈⬛
Calling all DamiRae shippers, the 2026 DamiRae Zine is ready for your enjoyment on the pair's 6 year canonversary.
You can download it here for free 💕
While we initially planned to price these at $5 each and donate all proceeds to the Save the Children foundation, given the shorter length and level of interest this time around we didn't want to lock anyone out from being able to enjoy it. That said, this is a wonderful charity that could definitely use your support. Donate here if you can!
We had a few lineup changes here and there as the zine came together, and want to thank sincerely every artist and writer who contributed to this project:
andthendk
eevee
illuminaudie
limeru
menaisyl
OpheliaWillowBrook
Raverin2
sandradaffodils
shewhowillnotbenamed1
ViLaVi
xaphrin
Once again, Happy Canonversary and Long Live DamiRae! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
Dick remembered her long time crush on the Atlantean vividly. It was long before he and she were even...whatever it is they were. He'd never even seen that side of Raven before. He hadn't known it existed. This Raven flirted openly and often. She'd toss her hair. Bite her lip. Shake her hips. She'd acted like she wanted nothing more than to take her time at Aqualad's touch tank.
Dick didn't know Raven could house such desires. Before Garth, he'd never seen Raven unabashedly wanting before. Not for the last box of chamomile teabags on the shelf at the market, let alone another being. And for someone to bring that out of her... Someone that wasn't him. Well, it still made his blood boil just on principle. Even if the only wide blue expanse her nude body now graced were her sheets.
"It doesn't matter," Dick growled. He was done stewing over the past; he intended to make full use of the present. He was sure in his haste he wasn't making much sense tonight, but that didn't stop him. "I don't want anyone flirting with you and I don't want you flirting with anyone else either."
"Why is that?" Raven teased.
He wasn't sure she was taking it seriously, but he couldn't help it. "I don't want you to," Dick repeated. "And I don't think you want to."
"That's presumptuous of you," She quipped. "There was something about the way he filled out a black and blue unitard that sent me completely off the rails..." Raven was driving him mad. He was certain she was enjoying herself more than a little.
But, Garth. That...that...
That nautical knockoff.
"A black and blue unitard?"
"Yep." Raven folded her arms.
"Something as ubiquitous as black and blue spandex is really all it takes to get under your cloak?"
"And a head of impossibly black hair—probably product enhanced. A winning, photo-op ready smile. Throw in a box of brooding, a forkful of familial issues, and a splash of almost unreasonable moral obligations..." She shrugged and for once he couldn't tell where the sarcasm ended and she began.
But it was her cauldron and Raven's recipe was to be imbibed at her leisure.
"You make us all sound like action figures," Dick scoffed in mock outrage.
"It could start to sound that way, yes," she said casually. "But when you boil it down..." She shrugged as if her point was made.
"Is that all we are to you, Raven? Is that all I am?"
"If the painted on briefs fit." She stifled a snort. "Or bat briefs in your case."
He couldn't tell if she was serious or not, or just toying with him. But he liked it. He wanted to prove himself to her. He was better. He was the original black-haired, blue-unitarded man in her life, after all.
"Raven, I don't know what you're trying to do to me, but I have to admit it's working."
"Oh? Do you like being told you're a product?" Her lips parted wider than needed on the last syllable, so he could just make out her tongue touching the roof of her mouth. And Dick shivered at the memory of what that tongue could do.
He snatched her hand and steered it to his chest, particularly glad he'd spent more time on upper-body this morning. "What else do you think I am?" No longer guided by his own, her touch trickled down to his abs. "Tell me."
"I think, you're..." But with her fingers on his impeccably toned stomach, she was finding it hard to say anything at all. "You're so full of hot air, it's a wonder you need a grappling hook. You could probably just glide over to the next rooftop."
"You think so?" he mused. "Well, I happen to crave an extended session with a rather gifted healer." He bit his lip at the double entendre. "One with a very soothing touch, who's extremely easy on the eyes." Dick's blue gaze shifted over her figure. "Maybe I might have to try it one of these days, see if I stick the landing."
"Pity," she swallowed. "I guess then the Titan's Most Charming Smile Award will go to someone more deserving this year. At long last."
A wide smirk spread across his face. "This smile?" He chuckled. Dick's fingers feathered her wrist and with a swift singular motion, he tugged her closer so he could speak low in her ear. "How about I prove to you once and for all that it's good for something?"
@fuckyeahrobrae / @ravenroth-grayson (Thank you for organizing this for our OGs again!❤)
A screen reflected his dull, expressionless mask back at him as he typed into the dreary, darkness of midnight. Dick slumped over and slid a hand down his bleary face. In a matter of months, he had gone from egomaniac to pod person to a shell. By contrast, the Robin that led the team in his youth seemed like a level-headed tactician. These days he was hardly a dog with a bone, desperate to make disjointed pieces fit a theory—he'd been neutered months ago. He felt helpless, like a toddler. Because this 'work' was little more than a pacifier. It was hardly dire, it was basic. Data entry. Did he urgently need to finish digitizing their old backlog of cases?
Obviously not.
Hell, they all knew Victor could have done it in minutes, but he didn't. Because it was a project. And a project meant something to do. Something to keep busy. And these days, it was best he kept busy, better in fact if he stayed far away from the others. His moods seemed to put everyone off, but he didn't care. He worked better alone anyway. He sighed for the thousandth time. This was frightening dull work, but it at least was numbing. Anything, so he didn't have to think about—
Intruder! Tower Main Entrance... Intruder!
Dick bolted upright like a Pavlovian response. Without warning, the room blazed with light, shining red, white, and yellow straight into his face. It was blindingly bright as his computer began to flash incessantly with the same alert.
Intruder! Tower Main Entrance... Intruder!
Something had tripped the Tower's silent alarm. Or maybe even someone. Dick felt an odd excitement stirring in his bones. Surely, he could take care of this one on his own. There was no need to even wake the team. If he were to be completely honest, he longed for danger and the thrill that accompanied it. It was the only thing that could make him feel alive anymore. A leader shouldn’t open himself up to constant risk. But this was different. It wasn't as if he had gone out to seek it this time. So Vic couldn't tell him he was being reckless when it had come to him directly.
Who could fault him for defending the Tower?
He molded with the shadows as he propelled forward, cutting around corners and bending behind archways. He tried not to think about what or whom he was channeling as he crept along. Sleepless nights and overwork meant that Dick had lost a little muscle mass, but he hadn't lost a step. He was silent and stealthy as ever.
At last, he saw it: A silhouette of an intruder gliding through the west entryway to the Operations Room of the Tower. Were they trying to get in using the cover of darkness? Well, they were in for it now. Trespassing was enough of a pretense. His lip curled into a sneer as he approached deadly and dangerous.
"Don't. Move."
The figure froze.
"You have exactly ten seconds to explain who the hell you are, and what the hell you're doing here." He paused. There was still no answer, just more dead air. "Staying silent? Bad move. Whoever you are, you better start talking—now."
His escrima sticks cast crackling spotlights in the dark. They oscillated with blue electricity as he approached—far less cautiously than he should. The shroud leapt backward. And the umbras seemed to move with it, like a squid hovering above the ocean floor, using ink clouds of its own making for cover. Something was eerily familiar about it all. He tried to shake the feeling that he recognized the way this shadowy figure was moving.
But it couldn't be.
He'd dreamt about it enough times. But… There was just no way.
"Fine." He widened his stance, the escrima sticks moving like electric nun-chucks. Though his body's rhythm was languid, it was seamless. Second nature. But mercy wasn’t anymore. "Don't say I didn't warn you—"
"Wait!" The hoarse voice was insistent. "It's me." The cyan pulses outlined an outstretched hand and a pale visage, widened eyes. That face... Her face. "Please, don't."
The weapons clattered to the floor with a resounding clang.
An ebony brow creased in confusion. He gazed blankly, struck dumb, as a petite girl walked into the moonbeams and electronic sea of dotted blues and greens. It was her standing in the entrance. It was her in a tiny black sweater and baggy low rise jeans. Really her, like no time had passed at all. She took a single step, letting the duffel bag slip off her shoulder to land in a noisy heap on the ground.
He fell out of his fighting stance—he was powerless against her. She had overtaken him completely without drawing her magic or a fist.
"Raven."
"Dick, I—" Her voice was barely audible. "I thought... No one would be awake—at this hour..." But he was. Dick's eyes were growing wider and wider. "Hi..."
"Raven," he repeated, dumbly. He knew nothing else but her name. Because it was her. All he could think of was the fact that it was her.
"I'm sorry I didn't call first," Raven croaked. She swallowed, blinking quickly. "Maybe I shouldn't have come... I can go—"
"You're not going anywhere." Dick's voice rumbled low and threatening. Suddenly, he rushed forward again. Then, he grabbed her. Not to apprehend her, but to hold her, to bring her into a full and tight embrace. Lifting her off the ground, cradling her to his chest. Threading his fingers through her hair. Touching her. Breathing her in as deeply as he could. "Raven, you came back." There was a river of emotions rushing and Raven was quickly swept away as the flood poured through the cracks in the dam of their bond to break free. Her legs shook until they gave out. And she closed her eyes and let him hold her and hold her up.
"You're back—you came back."
"Yes," Raven whispered. "I did—I am."
"You came back to me," Dick said, almost questioningly. He brushed the longer locks out of her eyes as he searched them. They were different. Her hair was different.
It didn't matter. Not just this second. Not ever. Not when he'd soon be able to open her up and search her at his leisure. He registered this briefly before his mind went blank and he crushed his mouth hard into hers. She melted into him, so he could drink her up, after drinking her in.
Dick was unrestrained, claiming her lips furiously, holding her so tightly, his hands fumbling all over her body. He just needed to feel her. Make sure she was really real. Really there before him. Gods, she tasted so damn good. And she felt just like he remembered.
Perhaps a bit thinner, but he didn't care. It was her all the same.
"Dick. Dick, what are we doing—" She whispered on each erratic breath falling between their lips.
But she knew what they were doing. And what she was doing to him. She let out a squeak of surprise as he pushed into her mouth. He hissed when her tongue pressed back against his. It was so hard and hot, their teeth clashed before they had to breathe.
"I missed you." Her words tumbled out clumsily. Drunkenly. But she couldn't fight it. "I did."
"Gods, Raven." He grunted in approval, tucking her lip between his. Dick sighed. "I really was losing my mind. A moment ago, I thought you weren't real." Each day had been more painful than the last. "I just...missed you so much."
"Oh, Richard..." Her eyes were moist, but she couldn't stop. And neither could he. She gave in completely the soft sensation of his lips on her neck. "Mm—"
