Another short WIP bc Winged Batfam has invaded my mind (also drawing from a post I saw about runes making the wings)
It hurt.
Every second of making them was pain.
Was it going to hurt like that every time?
But it was going to be worth it.
All the devastating pain of slicing his own flesh open. All the endless hours of trial and error. All the research to create the runes. All the studies in magic all over the world.
All of it was going to be worth it, as soon as he is first going to soar.
But first he was going to have make it through the transformation.
_…_…_…_…_…_…_…_…_…_…
When he awoke he was greeted by darkness, which was not unusual, and warmth, which was highly unusual.
When he sat up he noticed the extra weight of something unwrapping (?) from around him.
He wasn’t exited at that. He wasn’t.
Just .. pleased
Yes, pleased that it worked.
Now with a bit more light, the sight of dark feathers greeted him.
At that he certainly didn’t rush to turn the lights brighter
He finally had wings.
To finally be free with.
They were breathtaking quite large.
Most of them were black but a few on the inner side of them were a deep, rich purple, with the ones closest to his shoulder-blades almost lavander.
He looked almost regal
The remaining aches didn’t matter. Testing new appendages was so much more important.
At first he stayed in the ground. How were the wings moving? What did they feel? Were they sensitive? Did his body move in sync with them?
He came to the realization, that his wings HE HAS WINGS! HIS WINGS! were naturally moving with his body. They felt right. As if they had always been there. As if a missing piece of him had been found.
Fascinating
So he decided to test their ability to fly.
He did not fall flat on his ass.
He also did not twist his ankle.
_…_…_…_…_…_…_…_…_…_…_
Three months later the bat of Gotham had its first confirmed appearance.
And if the “feathers of impending doom”, that were being found where Batman has beaten up criminals, were a side effect of having no one to preen with, then so be it.
Maybe he could make it an actual tactic. It’s not like he was ever going to have someone to preen with.
At least he thought that until he saw another bird have his wings clipped, the way his were clipped that fateful night
And so a Little Robin with bright Wings and even brighter smiles and an even brighter thirst for vengeance came to be Batman’s preening helper
