Bats in the Belfry (And Other Places)

http://dapandabanda.tumblr.com/post/136152896277/merkymerx-oracle-workout-inspired-by-norman

This one’s inspired by this amazing fanart by @merkymerx!

Barbara was not one to roll over and give up. She was stronger than that.

At least, that was what she repeated to herself, those days in the hospital when it felt like rolling over and giving up would turn off the pain, emotional and physical. Because, surprise, a bullet through the spine hurt like hell, given its purpose as the center of the nervous system, and, double surprise, a psychopath tormenting her until she passed out from the blood loss left other scars--though, not even scars yet, raw wounds that hadn’t closed over even slightly.

And she was repeating those words even now.

Dick had stopped by to say he was sorry for what happened, but that just took a dark turn, and she couldn’t think about the Bats, any of them, for a long time.

Jason’s murder had hit them all hard. She knew that. And her...the assault had hit them hard.

But it was hitting her hardest, and she couldn’t be around people who would drag her down right now. She was in her darkest place, the kid brother kind of figure gone, her mentor of sorts driven to extreme grief, her close friend off being a dick when she didn’t need the crazy (even though she still cared about him) and her dad...

Her dad was not doing well at all.

It was all he could do to eat, it seemed, to eat, sleep, shower, the basics of living. And yet, he did everything he could to support her, stubble on his face showing through as he helped her through her exercises. Through PT.

It was him that made her doubly determined to pull through. Because she’d already been determined to at least live, but with her dad like he was, she was determined to thrive.

Physical therapy took so much out of her, but she still found time to learn more about coding at the end of the day, or the gaps in the middle. She learned the basics, and moved on from there. She needed something to occupy her mind, and she was exactly the kind of person to put that need to use. 

One didn’t become an award-winning gymnast through lack of willpower.

One did it by stretching and practicing and building strength even when it wasn’t official practice time. One did it by focusing and working so goddamn hard it felt like you’d cry tears of blood.

And she could do it again, she said to herself, even when she was crying actual tears because she would remember something she would never do again, such as a handspring or even a silly twirl with Dick.

The physical therapist said he’d never seen the like, but he should have expected it from an athlete like her.

And he probably would never again.

Barbara would be sure of that. No one else would get maimed like this, or more importantly, killed--murdered, like Jason. Not if she could do anything to stop it.

Her return to the superheroing world as Oracle was one that was a bit distant from Batman. She definitely made it clear she was a separate, independent entity. And woe to any who thought differently--or tried to fight her to target anyone ever again.

She would lay them out on their ass, and she did, time and again when they thought she was the target. That, she supposed, had long been her advantage:

http://nevolition.tumblr.com/post/136193103387/sometimes-they-screw-up-sometimes-someone-gets-an

Based on this art by the talented @nevolition!

Jason didn’t often get hit by fear toxin, in all honesty. Tim supposed it had to do with the mask--it usually ventilated it. But if for some reason he was without the mask, he was as vulnerable as any of them--maybe more so, what with vivid memories that made easy fodder for the toxin.

Jason’s eyes were blown, face unmasked in more ways than one--the fear was evident, the way he was trapped as a fifteen year old boy being beaten to death again. 

This time, though, Tim was pretty certain he was robbed of the confidence that Batman would save him.

His teeth seemed to chatter as he tried to speak, body ready to simply give out on him as if he had been struck by the crowbar. He was breathing hard, hands going up to block as Tim came towards him. “No! No! Stop!”

“Jason, it’s me, Tim,” Tim promised, not sure what was reaching him. It could be anything from only Tim’s words to absolutely nothing except a figure moving towards him.

“No! Fuck you, stop it!” Jason said shrilly, panic lacing his voice.

Tim stepped closer, having an antidote in hand. “Stay calm, I’m going to help you.”

“You already killed me, what more do you fucking want?!” Jason almost screamed desperately, and Tim had to wonder if the fear was even more amped up than in the original event. The Joker had made mention of Jason not screaming and crying...but that could be a lie.

And he didn’t want to dwell on that now.

And he took one step too close, and bam!

Tim saw stars.

Jason had a mean right hook.

Still, Tim pushed through the violently bright images in his eyes and managed to get a gentle hold of Jason’s hands. “Hey. Hey, you feel that? It’s me, Tim. Not the Joker. I’ve got you.”

Jason was still shaking so violently, but the dissonance of the gentle touch as compared to his nightmare seemed to help him acknowledge Tim was not the Joker.

And Tim really hoped he was doing this right. He moved in, pulling Jason into a hug as well. Still gentle, still not a hold.

And Jason seemed to almost cling at that point, and Tim wondered who he was seeing.

If it was Bruce.

And he had to dismiss that thought immediately, so he carefully brought Jason to a corner where he could keep watch, and eased him down to the ground, offering small encouragements the whole way.

Jason immediately curled up, into Tim. 

He thought he could feel him crying still, and he gently ran his hand through his hair, petting. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Jason was still shaking, still crying, but he seemed secure.

His next uttering was like a stab to the heart. 

“I knew you’d come.”

Tim had to swallow the lump in his throat, and pet Jason’s head more. It would be selfish to tell him he wasn’t Bruce. He’d just stay here until he came out of it.

He felt like he truly saw the kid Jason had once been. The Jason he’d seen only some of on patrol, catching pictures with his camera. The one who totally trusted Bruce.

Tim as a rabbit was both hilarious and frightening.

Hilarious, because seeing a tiny fluffy bunny that angry was cute as all get out.

Frightening because a tiny fluffy bunny was an easier target than Tim had ever been in his whole life. Maybe even more than as a baby.

And the fact that Dick had to hold a tiny bunny Tim and fend off Damian? Really not fun and not something he’d recommend to anyone for anything. 

“Damian, stop!”

“Hand him over, Grayson!” Damian snapped, attempting to take Tim once again. Tim was helpful by starting to kick and thrash, and who knew a bunny could be so hard to keep a hold of?

“Tim! Damian!” he tried to argue with both of them at once, though he wasn’t sure it really did any good with Tim. 

Damian seemed furious, and made a grab at Tim.

And Tim was the less annoying one until he bit Dick.

The sharp pinch made Dick drop him. Not because it hurt so much, but just because it startled him. He definitely had never expected to be bitten by Tim. He didn’t think almost anyone would see that coming.

And Damian dove, and Dick went after him--

And then stopped in shock.

Damian cradle Tim carefully, supporting his rear and petting his back. He didn’t coo over him, but he might as well have. His green eyes turned furiously on Dick. “Grayson. You were holding him entirely wrong. You could have harmed him.”

And Dick had to choke back a snort of shocked laughter. 

Apparently, Tim’s wellbeing could overtly matter if Tim was an animal.

Surprisingly, Tim seemed content enough with the state of things, even if his nose seemed to be twitching in a very accusatory way towards Dick.

Dick sighed. “Okay, Damian, since you’re the expert, you keep an eye. I’m getting Babs on this.”

He looked back as he clicked through the controls on the monitor, suppressing a smile at the secure, almost affectionate way that Damian held Tim close. 

Damian insisted, thereafter, that rabbits were skittish and his was the most logical, pragmatic course of action. It had nothing to do with Tim, and only with accomplishing the mission.

Dick gave the equivalent of, ‘uh uh, sure’ and moved on.

Anonymous said to thebatfamwriter:Batfam soccer team AU?

I actually really love this idea. :) One batfam soccer team AU coming up!

Sorry it took so long! I know next to nothing about soccer, so it took some doing. I kinda hope to make this a series now.

The thing about being in a small town known as Gothamville?

Small population.

And if you wanted to have a soccer team, the pool was limited. Bruce hadn’t set out to make waves, or really to get involved with soccer, but his kids had wanted so badly to play, and so he became a coach.

There weren’t enough players to make an all-male team like the rest of the league’s teams, so it was mixed gender.

Dick, who was his legal ward but basically his son, was team captain. He sometimes butted heads with Barbara over this, and some of the team, which varied in age a lot, called her ‘Team Mom,’ but that title more accurately applied to someone else.

Jason, his adopted son, second oldest. He often acted very tough, and often got penalties for being aggressive on the field, but no one was more of a mother bear than he was. Anyone bothering the younger players was in for his wrath, and any of the players on the team who were younger or smaller or both were bound to be on the receiving end of an ice water bottle or a curse-laden pep talk if they got hurt.

Tim was one of the common recipients, given that he seemed to have little self preservation skills on the field. He was Bruce’s foster son, who he was hoping to adopt. He was very fast, small, but took hits pretty hard. He was exactly the kind of kid to grin at Bruce while blood ran down from his nose, as if to say, ‘Did you see me? I got the ball to Dick.’

Stephanie was not his kid, at least not in a familial sense. She was, however, extremely enthusiastic and always bringing in snacks for everyone. She got in trouble like Jason a lot.

Like she’d once said, ‘I came here to chew sunflower seeds and win a championship, and we’re all out of sunflower seeds!’

Cassandra was his adopted daughter. She was actually fostered after Tim, but the parental rights were very quickly terminated in her case. And she was a force to be reckoned with, silent and deadly. She was the kind of player that surprised people by appearing without warning, and her focused stare was said to give people the heebie jeebies. Not Bruce’s team, of course, but everyone else felt that way.

Damian was his youngest. He and Stephanie were strikers, and Damian was good at it. He was the type to want to be good at anything he put his mind to, and often traded insults with Steph.

The boy actually seemed to be more proficient and at peace when making art, but he was extremely competitive when it came to soccer. Sometimes got in similar trouble to Jason and Steph.

Harper was also on his team. She had a brother, but Cullen didn’t particularly want to play soccer. It didn’t stop him from cheering her on every game, and he also made sure they all had water.

Harper was a positively vicious player, at times, amazing at timing and very coordinated. She also came up with the most creative insults and chants, and tended to get in trouble for that.

The colored hair didn’t help the refs’ opinion.

Bette was a cousin, younger than Bruce, and she played as well. She was very flirty and kind of silly off field, tending towards having a good time, but if the ball was put in front of her, she got kind of scary. Single-minded focus and intensity.

She told him once she’d played tennis, but it wasn’t as fun as soccer and the local school cut the team anyway.

She was the one who typically always had a hair tie, and could be seen speedily doing up the girls’ hair for the game.

Terry was just older than Damian, also Bruce’s son. He lived with his mother and stayed with them on weekends, given that his mom had no desire to live with Bruce or be married to him. However, they were on amicable terms.

That boy really enjoyed ribbing Damian, and they were kind of competitive with each other--but also had solidarity, given that they were the youngests on the team. If anyone suggested age order anything, they were the first to demand, in unison, that it was youngest first.

Luke was a co-worker’s son, and Bruce was pretty close with Lucius, so it was like Luke was as related as most of the team. He also had a tendency to buck Dick’s authority, and you could often find him and Barbara teaming up to try to ‘win’ a team decision.

He played with cool detachment, precise in his aim and unable to be flustered. Which worked well, given he was the goalkeeper.

“Why is she wearing a dress?”

Of all the questions Damian could ask, this seemed like a silly one. Dick couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter, but this only made the blonde little girl tilt her head.

“Is it something I did?” she asked, and yeah, she was definitely not well dressed for crimefighting.

The red dress, knee-length skirt, was a horrible choice. Her mask was also red and green, and it looked...somehow amateur while also just wrong even for an amateur.

And of course, the fact she’d introduced herself as Batgirl...

“Yes, it is,” Damian snapped, which made confusion fill her blue eyes.

“No, it’s nothing you did, uh, Batgirl...” Dick said, as gently as possible. She seemed entirely like a fish out of water, little pixie shoes toeing the ground anxiously.

Damian had rescued her when she’d just shown up in this costume in the middle of Crime Alley. He looked like he was regretting the decision.

She clasped her hands in front of herself. “It’s Bat-Girl. It has a hyphen, you know.”

How she could tell he hadn’t used a hyphen, he didn’t know. He guessed it sounded minutely different. “Okay, Bat-Girl, back up--where did you--where are you going?”

She stopped walking backwards. “I’m sorry.”

Damian groaned. “She’s an imbecile as well.”

“That’s not very nice. Someone should give you a spanking,” Bat-Girl said to Damian in a disapproving tone.

“Do you wish to attempt it?” Damian said in a threatening tone.

Dick could have cracked up at that point, but he focused on the important thing. Figuring this girl out. “So. Bat-Girl, what’s your real name?”

Her eyebrows rose. “That’s a secret, I’m afraid, and I can’t tell you.”

Dick groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was not what he’d been hoping for today...but then, their lives were unpredictable by their very nature.

“Okay, Bat-Girl, what if I told you I’m a good guy and I won’t tell anyone else?”

“You sound extremely creepy, Grayson,” Damian felt the need to point out.

“My aunt wouldn’t want me to,” Bat-Girl said, though there was a slight confusion as she looked at Damian.

Dick sighed. “Okay, then. How about you tell me where you came from?”

At that moment, however, there was a whooshing noise. Damian was quick to draw his katana, to glare at the opening wormhole of sorts. Dick stood in front of Bat-Girl.

Out stepped a woman in a garish yellow and red costume, flanked by a tiny boy in...a Robin costume.

Said boy immediately went to Bat-Girl, saying, “Holy Missing Children, Bat-Girl, you should have been more careful! It’s just like a girl to go tumbling in headfirst like that!”

Was Dick gaping? He might have been.

Bat-Girl pecked this Robin on the cheek, despite his grimacing. “I knew you’d rescue me! I never supposed for an instant you wouldn’t come!”

The woman gestured towards the wormhole. “We’d better get back there, children. Batman will be worried.”

“Goodbye! It was a pleasure to meet you!” Bat-Girl said, flashing a bright white smile at them. Suddenly, she ran over and pecked Damian on the cheek too, and then dashed back towards the wormhole.

And they were gone.

“We never speak of this,” Damian said shortly, “None need to know of those--those strange--” he cleared his throat. “No one needs to know.”

(Werewolf AU 1)

Most people who woke up with a wolf growling near their face would probably freak out.

Stephanie was not one of those people.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, saying soothingly, “It’s okay, I promise. You’re fine. Come on, Tim, it’s okay.”

He still shook a little, clearly unnerved. 

How could Steph promise so easily? Well, that was an easy answer--Cass was keeping watch. And this was definitely one of their safest places.

Tim let out a huff, but pressed closer anyway. His fur was a gray color, a tint of brown evident. He was not a big wolf, not fully grown or, let’s face it, likely to be all that big fully grown anyway.

But, wolves were still decently sized animals.

“I know. To be fair, no one really expected you to shift like that, but Cass and I got you here fast.” She stroked along his neck, behind his ears, like he liked.

He seemed to relax at that.

“You’ve been shifted for like five hours,” Stephanie filled in, “Cass was getting kinda worried, honestly. You’ve been sleeping a lot after trying to take a chunk out of literally anything that came near you.”

He stiffened.

“Besides us, dumbass,” Stephanie consoled.

He relaxed again, though his ears flattened back some. Stephanie could almost smell the shame.

She stroked his head gently, murmuring, “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt anyone. Sides, you’re good, you know?”

And he still didn’t entirely believe her, she could tell. 

But she’d stay with him til he shifted back.

“Hey.”

Tim (presumably Tim, the person in front of Jason was almost unrecognizable) was leaning into Jason’s space. Well, okay, he was like three feet away, but still.

And Jason had startled away, staring at Tim. “Uh? Timbers? That you in there?”

Tim rolled brown eyes. Contacts. “Does this make me look fat?”

Jason stared a little bit. “I don’t know, Tim, is this a trick question? Cause I don’t want you bitching at me--”

“You’re not funny, Jason,” Tim said flatly. 

“I’m probably funnier than you are, just saying--”

“Jason! Does it make me look fat or not?”

Jason let out a small laugh, and said, “Yes, Tim, the fatsuit makes you look fat.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I mean believably, asshole.”

Steph had shown up about then, and shouted, “Oh my god, Tim, who did you eat?!”

Tim left in a huff, complaining about how both of them were immature.

Jason couldn’t stop cackling, though, no matter how unprofessional Tim claimed it was. Steph looked like she was trying not to laugh too, and said, “Well, if Tim’s tryna disguise himself, it’s gonna work. No one who knows him would believe he’d eat enough to gain any weight.”

Anonymous said to thebatfamwriter:So, I have this idea that Tim and Damian get into these MASSIVE prank wars, but in the end, Dick (or possibly Jason) finish it. Would you like to write it?

Oooh, that sounds fun! Will do!

It probably started to get out of hand the day that Tim dropped about fifty gallons of grape juice on Damian–while the kid was in costume.

As anyone knows, that shit doesn’t come out. And Damian was pissed off, unsurprisingly.

Though, of course, if Jason was going to be accurate, he’d say the previous prank had probably brought about the grape juice: superglueing Tim’s mask to his face. Thank god it was a more standard eye-covering kind, and not like, a crazy Batman cowl, but Tim had legit lost some skin getting it off–with help from a doctor. And he had refused to admit who did it, though of course, Jason and Dick knew.

And of course, following the grape juice, things got progressively worse.

It reached too damn much when the Batmobile nearly exploded, though, cause fuck, Jason was inside at the time and the broken wheel shredded part of Dick’s motorcycle.

So naturally, the two of them decided to team up and put the pranking ghost to rest once and for all.

It had started out like any other day to lull the two into a sense of security. Of course, Tim was always planning for catastrophe and Damian legit had no chill, so it was only so much help. 

Still, the prank was going end this war forever. Or so they hoped–Tim was the one lauded as a mastermind.

“DRAKE!” came the unearthly shriek throughout the house.

Jason continued watching the TV, idly flicking through channels. Dick scrolled down on his phone, seated not far from him.

A familiar five foot five figure came through the door, absolutely seething. He gestured to his body, and demanded, “Why do I look like an abomination?!”

He also looked like he might kill somebody.

“I think you look fine, Tim, it’s just a bit of bedhead,” Jason commented, eyeing the blonde, puffy-lipped woman on TV crying about god knew what like it was interesting him.

“I am not Drake!” the person who looked exactly like Timothy Jackson Drake hissed, adding, “And I will kill you if you don’t fix this this instant, Todd!”

Jason looked over like he was hurt. “I thought we were on a first name basis, Tim. God, that’s rude.”

“It really is,” Dick concurred, sliding his thumb on his phone absently.

“All right,” came a flat tone, a kind of childish one, “Who did this and why am I the demon brat?”

The sharp eyed face of Damian Wayne had far more of a Tim expression on it, arms crossed over his chest and looking at Dick and Jason as if to say, ‘Really?’

“Damian, don’t talk about yourself like that,” Dick said, looking up from his phone. “You’re not a demon brat.”

“Dick, that’s not funny,” Tim said flatly again.

“Of course it isn’t. Internalizing negative things people call you never is,” Dick agreed.

Tim looked like his head was slowly building towards popping off.

“You fix this right now!” Damian raged, looking near murder–a funny look on Tim’s face, in Jason’s opinion.

“If only there were a way to fix the family tension,” Dick sighed.

“Yeah, I know,” Jason agreed with exaggerated empathy. “I mean, we don’t even have a spaceship to send the problem kids away–or any spare apologies lying around.”

Damian’s jaw set at that.

Tim groaned, the exasperated look a touch out of place on Damian’s face. “I’m not apologizing, he started it.”

“You started it by existing, Drake!”

“Now Tim, technically you were born first–though, why you’re addressing Damian by your last name is kinda murky there.” Jason smirked as Damian’s face turned red with anger.

“Did we switch bodies or is this an illusion?” Tim demanded, as if they would give him fuel to fix the problem on his own.

“Who knows, Tim? We could all be illusions. The whole universe could be an illusion. We could be switching bodies all the time and nobody knows it. I mean, how can I answer a question like that?” Jason said, shrugging as a commercial for a magically effective cleaner came on.

“He’s right, that’s a bit existentialist for this early in the morning,” Dick pointed out.

Tim growled under his breath.

“By the way, Steph’s coming over–think she wants to have a makeout session, Timbers. Hope you’ve been using your chapstick!”

Damian’s face twisted in disgust. “I’m not kissing Brown! She’s disgusting and fat!”

Dick whistled. “Wow. Maybe you want to tell her you don’t like her anymore?”

“Hey!” Tim snapped, “Don’t you dare say that to her!”

“Or what? What could you possibly threaten me with, Drake?” Damian demanded.

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “How about confessing your crush on Supergirl? To her?”

“Tt. I don’t even have a crush on–”

“And Superman.”

Damian glowered, but this wasn’t enough.

Tim apparently was going to push this, and Jason was kinda entertained. Tim said, “Or I could make a video of Robin gushing about Supergirl and put it on the internet. Not many people go on there, right, Damian?”

“You’d ruin our reputation!” Damian snapped back, looking ready to fight Tim.

“Yeah? You’d ruin my relationship with Steph! I call that even.”

It looked like it might come to blows.

Damian’s teeth were positively gnashing, his face a bright, bright red–almost redder than when it had been Tim’s face, ever.

"Come on, guys, kiss and make up!" Jason said helpfully, smirking.

Damian’s face was redder than Jason had ever seen Tim’s outside of infection or some other illness. It looked like his head might actually pop.

And that was about when things backfired and he started screaming, demanding to be put back in his body--the batarang hurtled towards Jason’s head, and the knife that thudded uncomfortably close in between Dick’s legs, meant that things were beyond a simple prank war.

Tim joined in at that point, launching himself at Jason, and soon enough, what was essentially a brawl had broken out.

It ended with both Tim and Damian crying, though in different, horrible ways, and a sense of of guilt that made both Dick and Jason be just a little spoiling for the next week.

As for the other...I am just stuck. DX I think I might be poisoned (septic gas) and it’s a titch harder to think. Not sure.

Dick had never seen Jason look so disappointed in him.

It was Jason, how could he be disappointed in anyone? But here the Red Hood was, out of costume, in a large brick red hoodie and black sweats, arms crossed over his chest, and looking completely disappointed in Dick.

It made Dick pause in what he was doing. “Uh? Something wrong?”

“Dick...” Jason sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t you want to walk Mar’i down the aisle?”

Dick blinked. “Um...she’s four. I don’t think I’ll, uh, have to do that for a long time--”

“Exactly, Dick,” Jason said, rather solemnly. He was still giving high-level disapproving looks at him. “Don’t you want to be around by then?”

Dick suddenly felt a bit perturbed. “Did something happen I don’t know about, Jason?”

“Oh, something happened--it was you.” Jason’s eyes glanced down, and Dick looked down at what he was holding.

It hadn’t changed, of course. It was still a plate full of chocolate-and-cream-and-sugar-to-the-max cake--Alfred’s best. Literally the most decadent he could make, while still not tasting like overcharged Swiss Rolls or something.

“Uh...what?”

“Dick, do you think you’re going to live long enough to walk Mar’i down the aisle eating that? Or better yet, maybe you’ll be there, but you won’t be able to walk--you’ll just roll along in your power chair, it’ll give hiccups partway through, your rolls of fat’ll fall out of the grossly re-tailored suit you’re wearing and Mar’i and her wife or husband or space lizard’ll never talk to you again--”

Dick rolled his eyes, and laughed, suddenly catching on. “Nice try, Jason. You shouldn’t have been late to the party.”

Jason’s face immediately turned to petulant. “Well, fuck you too, Dick, I hope you do get obese eating that goddamn cake!”

And he stalked away.

Dick figured he’d tell him in a bit that Alfred saved a piece for him. Let him suffer for a bit.

Because he deserved it for trying to bring Dick’s child into it.

Anonymous said to thebatfamwriter:A slip during rooftop tag lands Cass on crutches and benched from patrol for a month. It's up to her family and Steph to try to cheer her up.

Absolutely, Nonny! :D I love Cass stuff!

The thing about being them--the games could be dangerous. Like Dick’s game of who can do the most aerial somersaults off a building before shooting out their grapple, or Tim’s game of who can fit the most marshmallows in their mouth (spoiler: it’s Tim. The boy isn’t human).

But a universally enjoyed game among the bat brats was rooftop tag. Tim occasionally complained that it was dangerous, and Jason occasionally complained that he had better things to do, but it was Cass’s favorite. It was (technically) nonviolent, but still used her skills to their fullest.

Which way a sibling would move. Extreme accuracy in flipping from rooftop to rooftop. Being silent and sneaky like a shadow. Playing them against each other.

Because it was just for fun, it was fun.

Or, it was fun until ‘someone got their eye stabbed out,’ as Jason put it.

No one lost an eye, but it went like this:

Cass was running along the rooftop. It had rained during the game, a gentle mist, and no one paid it much mind. Damian had been lurking, being ‘it’, and Cass was kind of glad he wasn’t going after Tim as usual.

He wanted a challenge (not solely revenge)--and he chose Cass. Which was nice.

So she was going along, keeping an eye on him as he sneaked along. What she hadn’t quite kept in mind was that there were always two ‘its’ and that other it was Jason, who was known to play underhanded at times.

“Cass, it’s a baby!”

The bundle flew through the air, and it was the right weight and size and while Cass’s mind was going through the feeling of ‘Jason wouldn’t throw a baby’ she reacted, catching the bundle--and sliding right off the roof.

“Oh shit!” was what she heard, before she hit the ground.

Then red-sparkle-black.

She came to to Damian tearing Jason a new one. “You are a complete moron, Todd, the point is not to kill!”

“Fuck, she’s not dead, okay? Cass, come on, say something!”

“Not it,” Cass murmured, and slapped the ground while pain crackled in her ankle and skull, “’s safe.”

It turned out to be broken. The ankle, that is. An ankle itself did not break--it was a set of two fractures in the connecting bones. She was glad the joint was undamaged, but crutches were not what she had in mind for the next month.

Neither was having a concussion, of course, but Cass had dealt with those enough.

The house was the picture of remorse.

Jason moreso than everyone else. He was the epitome of penitence the next two days, getting her ice cream and ice and the TV remote while railing on the horrible slipperiness of roofs in Gotham and how someone should do something about ‘that bullshit’--until Alfred made him leave to cool off.

To his credit, he did apologize--’Sorry, Cass, that was a dick move’--but it didn’t exactly fix Cass’s ankle.

Steph was the one who turned out to be a godsend. She perched next to Cass, doing homework or whatever and playing some weird movies she referred to as chick flicks--but they were actually martial arts movies.

“What? Chicks like ass-kicking.”

Cass wouldn’t have admitted it, but before Steph stepped in, she was moping. A whole month without action felt like it would kill her.

Steph made it bearable. She’d bring her things to do, to look at, and so on.

The most memorable part was when she’d just suddenly looked at Cass’s face, and announced, “I think you might have a heart shape face. That or a circle.”

“What?”

“Cass, let me do your hair, kay?”

And so she did--weird braids. It looked horrible. Steph was hardly a hair stylist. But Cass was delighted, and they talked the whole time--about crimefighting., Tim, Jason, stupid people (Jason and Tim were in here too), gum and gummies and how great they were, waffles, Steph’s secrets for good waffles, characters in the martial arts movies and how bad some of the martial arts was--just everything.

Cass made it through, and was back to full power in the end. 

Oh, and she and Steph crazy-stringed up Jason’s hideout. Payback was a bitch, Jason.

I literally screamed when I saw this. :D Thanks for asking!

Why I like them

She’s a badass, for one thing, but also has feelings. She basically has intuition as a superpower, in terms of understanding people–and that’s like an extrapolated version of my own talents. She genuinely cares about people, and was able to make the decision to live on her own for years to avoid having to kill again. A lot of parallels with Damian Wayne, actually.

Plus, she’s half-Chinese (I believe) but that isn’t played up too much. By which I mean, most of her comics, they don’t seem to play the tropes involving East Asian martial artists too much. There’s more focus on her as a person in much of the comics–and she is an interesting person to get to know.

To me, she’s like, neurodivergent–like me. Unusual in her ability to communicate and understand, even if our skills and methods differ. She is tough as nails, but still cares so much for Barbara and Bruce and so on.

Plus, god, her and Steph…XD 

Steph: I can fight you, just let me!Cass: *hands her ass to her without trying*

I like them as buds, in all honesty.

Maybe

as a pairing, if written well, but yeah…

Why I don’t

Sometimes she has a touch too much of the Batman god-mode going on. She’s not the only character in this series to get that treatment, of course–and hardly the worst offender.

Batman’s probably the worst offender, lol.

With her, I really dislike the approach taken to her lack of verbalization. Cause, frankly, if you don’t learn a language–and no, body language doesn’t count–by a certain age, you are forever crippled. Feral kids who haven’t learned a language by, eh, like eight, can never do it. They may be able to say a few words, with lots of therapy, but they can never understand grammar or structure sentences.

Cass would be severely crippled mentally. Language is a huge part of development, and it would affect more than just not being able to speak.

Not a lot I dislike about her–except when she’s badly characterized (like that whole mess with Deathstroke and Rose Wilson and shit).

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

Hm…two favorites, I guess. The whole ‘beating up Steph to prove she should not be in superheroing with so little training’ and being Tim’s ‘protection.’ Which, the one is funny while somewhat caring, but it just gave me strong feels to see her protect Tim, and I just wish they had been closer as siblings. But the fact Tim was completely sure that Cass would be there was just…you know, good. :)

Favorite season/movie

No movies yet. *cries* I guess pre 52?

Favorite line

“I don’t kill…but I don’t lose either.”

(Roughly.)

Favorite outfit

The Black Bat costume and this one outfit she wore that was a sports bra and showed all her scars. I found it cool that she was just so comfortable, and it wasn’t sexualized, I think, if I’m recalling correctly.

In New 52, the cute black dress she has is just awesome.

OTP

Hm…so far, I kinda like Cass/Harper and maybe Cass/Tim? Sometimes Steph/Cass too.

Brotp

Definitely Cass and Tim! I love them. I also like Damian and Cass getting along and relating to each other, but yeah.

Head Canon

Hm…

Cass really relates to Damian, despite his being nasty to her?

Unpopular opinion

Just take the inability to understand language out of her story. It’s bad science and she can be just as interesting if she lacks a lot of vocabulary and such due to her focus in training on body language. Cause, seriously, what kinda assassin can’t even read? How is she supposed to sneak?

A wish

A series with Cass as a/the main character?

Please?

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Death. *knocks on wood*

5 words to best describe them

Tiny badass empath ninja baby

My nickname for them