Athena N Faymont's Stories

The prompts for SuperBat Week 2026 are here, courtesy of @superbateveryweek, which means it is once again time to look at a perfectly innocent list of ideas and immediately start making terrible decisions.

I love fandom events like this.

There is something genuinely fun about being handed a prompt you might never have chosen for yourself and having to ask: all right, what can I do with this?

Sometimes it gives you an excuse to write a trope you have been secretly wanting to try. Sometimes it pushes you towards a version of Bruce and Clark you would never have thought of otherwise. Sometimes it makes you experiment with structure, POV, tone, canon, an AU, a completely ridiculous premise—or just write something smaller and stranger than the stories you normally tell.

This last point may be important… because fandom weeks are also a wonderful opportunity to practise writing short things. A concept I support wholeheartedly. A concept that my brain seems to be unfamiliar with.

My current ambition is therefore to participate in SuperBat Week this year if life allows me to, and also if I can somehow prevent myself from looking at each individual prompt and deciding that what it really needs is 50,000 words, three subplots, an emotional arc about Bruce's inability to communicate, Clark having at least one small existential crisis, Tim appearing for reasons that were definitely necessary, and an epilogue.

A one-shot can be 2,000 words.

People do this.

I have seen evidence.

And they are amazing stories.

So: I am going to try.

And one of the things I enjoy most about these events is precisely the permission to experiment. Not everything has to become The Next Big Fic™. A prompt can be a scene. A strange little AU. A conversation. Something funny. Something painful. Something incredibly self-indulgent.

Or, knowing Bruce and Clark, all four at once.

Which brings me to you: Give me ideas.

If you see the SuperBat Week proposals and think "oh, I'd like to see this idea with this event written by Athena" come here and tell me, you cowards!

I am very open to suggestions and I trust your intelligent and malevolent minds.

Part Two. Chapter five: On the Lately Much-Mentioned Michael Holt

After the Wally disaster, Barbara officially retires from matchmaking. Then Michael Holt comes to Gotham: brilliant, mature, controlled and exactly the kind of man Barbara thinks she should want. Everyone has opinions. Especially Dick.

This is definitely not about Barbara Gordon.

Barbara is intelligent, observant, highly competent, and usually right. These are excellent qualities in a vigilante. Of course, this isn't about her. This is meant for a person who has decided she understands everyone else’s love life better than they do. Not Barbara Gordon.

So, for purely educational purposes, here are three unmistakable signs that your matchmaker does, in fact, need an intervention.

She no longer asks what you want. She tells you what you will eventually realise you want.

You might think you are not interested in dating anyone.

You might even believe that the person she has selected is entirely wrong for you. That is fine. You simply do not have all the information yet.

Fortunately, your matchmaker does. She has examined your personality, your romantic history, your childhood trauma, your interpersonal compatibility, and several conversations you did not realise were being evaluated.

Your objections are not evidence that her theory is wrong. They are merely another stage in the process she has already predicted.

This is not matchmaking anymore.

This is an investigation in which you are the last person permitted to see the case file.

Intervention status: required.

She creates an entirely fictitious surveillance mission so that two people will spend weeks watching absolutely nothing together.

A normal matchmaker might arrange a dinner.

A matchmaker (not Barbara Gordon) who needs an intervention invents suspicious activity, constructs an operational justification, assigns Steph and Wally to conduct surveillance together, and allows them to spend several weeks monitoring a target that does not exist.

There is no criminal conspiracy.

There is no meaningful intelligence to gather.

There is only an empty location, a great deal of unnecessary observation, and two people being given enough uninterrupted time to develop feelings under what they believe are legitimate vigilante circumstances.

The fact that it might work does it alarming. And, in many ways, it makes it worse.

Intervention status: immediate. Take away the earpiece.

She is reorganising other’s romantic lives so she does not have to examine her own situation with Dick.

This is the most serious sign.

Your matchmaker can identify Steph’s unspoken needs, Tim’s emotional blind spots, Jason’s self-destructive habits, and the exact person each of them should supposedly be pushed towards.

She can analyse every glance, argument, contradiction and unresolved attachment around her. She can create plans. She can create backup plans. She can create fake missions that continue for weeks.

What she cannot do is look directly at Dick Grayson and ask herself what exists between them, what she wants now, or why involving herself in everybody else’s relationships feels so urgent.

Barbara is not simply matchmaking because she enjoys solving romantic problems.

She is treating other people’s feelings like cases because cases are easier than vulnerability. Steph, Tim and Jason become puzzles she can organise while her own history with Dick remains safely unresolved.

At this point, do not allow her to open another file.

Take the laptop.

Call Dinah.

Bring snacks.

Prepare for a detailed presentation explaining why everyone else’s emotional crisis is more urgent than hers.

Intervention status: overdue.

The problem is not that Barbara is bad at matchmaking.

(Yes, we must now accept that we might be talking about Barbara Gordon).

The problem is that she's clever enough to make her plans work, stubborn enough not to recognize when she's crossed the line, and persuasive enough to convince herself that ethical issues can be discussed after the fact. All this is seasoned with criticism of each of these things, but directed at Bruce.

Which is, unfortunately, much more interesting.

Part One. Chapter four: The Wayne Gale trope

Every Wayne Gala needs champagne, gossip, beautiful dresses and at least one romantic misunderstanding. Unfortunately, there's a big absence at this gala, but that's no problem for Barbara's plans! In fact, she's sure to turn things around and make the most of it all.

Spoilers for episode 6 of season 3 of Interview with the Vampire/The Vampire Lestat. If you haven't seen the series, MAKE IT A PRIORITY!

When you all started messaging me to say that episode 6 of The Vampire Lestat had reminded you of Dark Days and Lost Suns, I hadn’t watched it yet, so I freaked out a little. My brain immediately tried to come up with a thousand possibilities, I forcibly shut all of them down, saved the messages for later, and sat down to watch the episode as soon as I could.

And, oh my God. What a fantastic episode. So good. So good. It gave me everything I wanted. Straight into my veins, thank you very much.

And, yes, as soon as it happened, I understood exactly which scene you meant.

The situations are very different, of course. Louis and Clark are coming from almost completely opposite directions. Clark is already there to support Bruce: he knows something is wrong, he tries to calm him down, and, as soon as he recognises that Bruce is having an anxiety attack, he focuses entirely on helping him breathe and making sure he knows he isn’t alone.

Louis, meanwhile, arrives angry, and he is the one applying pressure. He is confronting Lestat, demanding answers and trying to understand something terrible—while also thinking about himself, because everyone here is a selfish piece of shit and I love them. But then he realises that he is no longer arguing with Lestat. Lestat is falling apart, and everything changes. Louis stops berating him and holds him, keeping him from falling.

I think that is what made you think of Bruce and Clark. The way they cling to each other during the breakdown.

I also think there is some similarity in the whole “proud, controlling character who is deeply unaccustomed to showing vulnerability ends up crying and unable to breathe in front of the man he loves” thing. We see vulnerable Lestat quite often in the show because he is with Louis, but, generally speaking, he is… I don’t know whether you are aware that he has Akasha’s blood, so everything is fine and nothing is wrong.

That, and the fact that the other person understands what is happening and, instead of asking questions, trying to reason with him, or giving him space, stays and comforts him.

And, in both cases, they stop the other man from falling to the ground—physically and metaphorically.

I suppose they may also be slightly alike in that the person who finally pushes them past the breaking point is the other man. In TVL, the crisis begins with Daniel and Armand airing everything out and culminates in Louis’s accusations. In DDaLS, the crisis begins with Tim + Dick and culminates when Clark tells Bruce that he is having an anxiety attack.

So, yes. I understand perfectly why it reminded you of them.

And, yes, it made me ridiculously happy that some part of your brain went, “This reminds me of that Bruce and Clark fanfic…” while you were watching the absolute masterpiece that was episode six.

That is an enormous compliment, and all I can do is thank you.

Part One. Chapter three: Stephanie Brown's Very Free Decision

Barbara's plan for Steph and Wally is going well, very well. In fact, she's making the best choices for herself. There are minor issues, of course: Tim is still around, Dick starts asking awkward questions, and Barbara discovers that guiding someone's life is easier when they're not paying attention. But everything is going well.

(Extra 1)

Extra Scene 2

Location: Watchtower, main meeting room.

The atmosphere isn’t exactly tense, but it is expectant. At least, until everyone sits down and starts flipping through the dossier in front of them.

Barry, of course, is the quickest, the first to exclaim.

Barry: Wha…? What?!

Bruce looks at him, expressionless behind his white lenses. Clark smiles. A little shy, but mostly happy.

Hawkgirl: Congratulations to both of you. I’m really happy. Diana: Of course, that’s great news.

The others join in the congratulations, and Arthur jokes that, seeing the document, he expected a plan to deal with some terrible super-earthly threat.

Victor: And do you know what you’re going to do with your civilian identities?

Clark nods.

Clark: I’ll request coverage at the next Wayne Gala, and we’ll start… becoming public.

Everyone nods.

Clark: We’ve decided that Superman and Batman are the ones who don’t have a relationship. Aside from being the World's Finest.

Hal: That’s fine. I’m used to seeing Brucie Wayne kissing people, but I don’t know if I could handle seeing Batman being affectionate…

There are a few laughs, and Bruce simply crosses his arms, expression unchanged.

Bruce: I’m not affectionate.

The entire League goes silent instantly, and Hawkgirl and Barry each give Hal a playful smack.

Hal: Sorry, sorry, Bats, I didn’t mean to make you… I’m sure you two will do great and…!

Hal chokes on his own apology, and everyone is a little cruel letting him struggle for a few seconds. Then Diana resumes the congratulations, signs her own document, and reminds everyone to be more careful and to respect Batman’s “special circumstance.”

Gradually, everyone signs, offers congratulations again, and leaves the room. Victor is last, as he’s in charge of administration this semester.

Clark and Bruce linger a little, and when they leave, they first take a walk through the Watchtower, gazing at the Earth below and the infinite space beyond.

Clark: You lied to Hal.

Bruce: I lied to Hal.

Clark laughs, surprised and happy, and Batman takes his hand and kisses his knuckles.

Bruce: But I’m not very affectionate. I’ll try, if it’s important to you. Clark shrugs.

Clark: I’ll let you know —he pauses as Bruce caresses his knuckles, eyes lost in the window— so… me then?

Bruce: I can’t lie to you.

They stay silent for a moment, gazing at the vastness.

Clark: Zatanna said it could be complicated to break it…

Bruce: She did.

Clark: So… you can lie to some and not to others…

Bruce: I can lie to everyone. I just can’t lie to you.

Clark swallows. Bruce squeezes his hand.

Neither dares to ask—or wonder—if that restriction has to do with the curse or with Bruce’s heart.

The End.

Part One. Chapter two: Second Chance

Steph deserves someone kind, intelligent, and down-to-earth. Barbara knows exactly who she needs, so she takes action because she's a woman of action.

I hadn't seen this question until now, I'm sorry!

I know exactly who you are!! Thanks again for all your help in chapter 10 :)

Chapter 13

Extra Scene 1

Location: Clark’s apartment, Metropolis. Time: Sometime later. State: Let’s pretend there’s a sheet.

Clark: There’s… something I need to tell you.

Bruce: If you have doubts, tell me n—if you have doubts, we need to talk about it now.

Surprised, Clark watches Bruce sit, even though just a moment ago he seemed to melt next to him, like water.

Clark pulls him down to lie back again.

Clark: It’s not… really bad. But… some inappropriate pictures of me might be circulating. From recently. I don’t want you to think that… I don’t know what I want you to think, but you should know I didn’t do anything.

Bruce narrows his eyes.

Bruce: Are they illegal?

Clark frowns, thinking.

Clark: I don’t think so. There were a lot of people, they would’ve stopped us.

Bruce relaxes slightly.

Clark: They’re…

Clark doesn’t seem able to finish the confession.

Bruce: With another partner?

Not ideal, but Bruce has horrid skeletons in his closet and Clark intertwined his fingers with his during sex. He could cry just remembering. Again.

Clark: No! Just… just me… well, in underwear and a little wet…

Honestly, if that’s Clark’s level of embarrassment, Bruce will have to make a dossier and tactfully explain a lot of the things someone could find online about Brucie…

Clark: … riding a mechanical bull.

Oh.

Oh…

Bruce blinks.

That’s… different.

Slowly, he nods.

Bruce: And who has these pictures?

He can’t add “so we can stop them from circulating,” though he’ll work on that after he gets them.

One of the reasons I've always loved Batman is that, at his core, he's a noir protagonist.

I adore crime fiction, detective novels, hardboiled mysteries, and classic noir stories. Give me a cynical investigator, a city full of secrets, morally gray suspects, corruption hidden behind wealth and respectability, and a mystery that slowly unravels piece by piece, and I'm immediately invested. That's why I always get excited whenever Batman stories return to his earliest roots and remember that he was originally conceived as a detective first and a superhero second.

Don't get me wrong—I enjoy the big superhero stories too. Batman fighting world-ending threats alongside the Justice League can be a lot of fun. But those stories rarely feel as uniquely Batman to me as the noir-inspired ones do.

There's something special about seeing Bruce alone in Gotham, following clues, interviewing witnesses, reconstructing crime scenes, and trying to solve a puzzle that nobody else can. Gotham feels more alive when it's a city of corruption, organized crime, dirty politicians, and hidden conspiracies rather than just a backdrop for the latest crossover event.

The best Batman stories, in my opinion, are often the ones that lean hardest into that atmosphere. The rain-soaked streets. The narration. The sense that Gotham itself is a character. The feeling that Bruce is one step away from disappearing into the darkness he's trying to understand.

Maybe that's why stories like The Long Halloween, Dark Victory, Year One, and similar detective-focused runs remain so beloved. They remind us that before Batman was a global icon, a team leader, or a superhero who could punch gods, he was a detective walking through a noir city, trying to solve a crime.

And honestly? That's still my favorite version of him.

Part One

Barbara Gordon knows what people need; usually before they do. It is one of the things that made her a great Batgirl, a devastating Oracle. After Dinah and Oliver's wedding goes exactly according to plan—no matter how much Bruce complains—Barbara discovers a new use for her talents: helping the people she loves make better romantic decisions. Come on, she's Oracle! Of course nothing's going to go wrong.