#which pretty much shocks tim beyond what he thought his body was capable of handling

[allthegothihopgirls]

i think it would have been funny if tim, after discovering his bisexuality and thinking that was the 'unique feature' he brought to his iteration of robin, mentioned this to the rest of batfam, only to find out they've all been some degree of queer this whole time.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:

#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.

but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.

but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.

#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.

the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.

tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.

#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.

both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.

the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.

#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.

so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.

#5 : the splits

#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.

the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.

cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).

kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.

still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.

#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.

eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.

and then there were two.

kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.

kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.

#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.

right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.

somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.

tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.

#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?

it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.

maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.

besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.

he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.

maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.

#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.

kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.

so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).

understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.

kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.

i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to

also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy

[reddrobins]

curiosity killed the cat and perfection killed the bat

tim drake x reader

summary: you were the batgirl to Tim’s robin. his everything, that is until you started to deteriorate away.

warnings: depiction of eating disorders, angst, hurt/comfort

You hadn’t always been a perfectionist. Really, if anything that was a new trait. But of course, all new things become old and all good things must come to an end, and you were the best thing in Tim’s life.

Bruce had taken you in under circumstances like any other of his children. Small child, carrying absurd amounts of trauma on their back. He saw potential in you the minute he laid eyes on your scared shaken form back in Crime Alley.

You were quickly welcomed into the family and not long after made friends with Bruce’s newest son, Tim.

You and Tim were inseparable the moment you met. Bruce could tell there was a bond like no other between the pair and would never dare to break the two of you up. So when Stephanie decided to go solo, the role of batgirl was open and Bruce saw no other option than you to be Tim’s new crime fighting partner.

You were thrilled. I mean what average child gets to go ham on criminals nightly and punch out their aggression? Though you knew batgirl was a more strategic role within the duo, you still couldn’t have been more excited to be a part of the team.

However, that joy didn’t seem to last too long.

Your first week as batgirl you decided to watch some footage of old fights on the batcomputer. It was videos of when Barbara and Dick were batgirl and robin and boy, were you blown out of the water.

You were drawn to Babs. Her moves, her brain… Her body. Everything just seemed so superior to you. You started to feel inferior, to feel like you weren’t good enough, like you didn’t deserve the mantle. It was basic comparison at its finest, however when you add comparison on top of years of trauma, it shifts into something different. Something more sinister.

Tim was the first one to notice your mood shift. Of course he was, the teen was your partner both in life and at ‘work’. The first signs he noticed was your increase in irritation and newly adapted short temper. The most prominent example being the one fateful night on patrol.

“Batgirl, do you have the location of the drug circle?” Tim asked as he scoped out the area from atop the WE building.

“Yes, it should be right under the pier. A small ship where they’re beginning to load up cargo for a trade.” You responded as you grappled from building to building - catching up to Tim.

“Okay. Here’s the plan, I’ll go in first, quietly. Then you can swoop down and take out the two thugs by the boa-”

You interrupted him, “Why are you going in first?”

Tim furrowed his eyebrows behind his domino mask. “I- I just thought you would’ve wanted to do some recon before we go in fighting…”

You crossed your arms, “do you think I can’t handle it myself?”

Red Robin was at a loss for words, beyond confused. You were a partnership, were was this sudden burst of irritation coming from?

“What? No, (Y/N) - I mean batgirl of course not. Why would you even think that?”

Rolling your eyes you sneered, “You just always calls the shots Tim. I’m starting to think you don’t think I’m capable enough.”

He was taken aback by the accusation, you were never normally like this. “That’s not that at all. No way, I think you’re more than capable, I just… I just thought that’s what you’d want?”

“Sure Tim.” You glared at him, “if you think you can pull this off on your own, then why don’t you get on with it. I won’t interrupt your work anymore.”

And with that you left, grappling away from Tim and back home to the Manor. The raven haired teen was left astounded. What the hell had just happened? Did you really just sacrifice the mission for what, a mild argument? He’d definitely be talking to you about this later.

The second sign he noticed of your change in personality was your avoidance of dinner. Or all meals for that matter.

“(N/N)! Alfred’s calling us for dinner! You want to come down?” Tim hollered from the stairs.

You however were busy in your room, music up to a volume that drowned out Tim.

Downstairs, the teen groaned and clambered up to your room knocking once before entering.

There you were, on the floor doing crunches, eyes squeezed shut due to over exhaustion. “(N/N)” he called again, this time from the doorway.

You sat up and pressed pause on the speakers, facing Tim. “Oh. Hey, what’s up?”

“Um, Alfred made dinner and wanted me to come bring you down… am I interrupting something?“ 

 “What? Oh that, no. It was nothing. Just some pretraining workouts before patrol tonight.” You laughed, looking off into the left. 

 Though Tim was a great detective, it didn’t take skill to know that you were lying. However, he let it go. “Okay… so, you coming down?” 

 You bit your lip in contemplation and then finally shook your head. “Uh, I had a big lunch and am still not really hungry. So please tell Alfred I’m really sorry and I know whatever he made was wonderful.” You lied, hoping he would let the conversation go.

Luckily, he did. 

“Sure. Just please come down if you get hungry. With all of the extra training you’re doing you need to make sure you’re staying nourished.”

You quirked your head at his response, “extra training I’m doing?” 

 Tim sighed and ran a hand down his face, “Do you really think I don’t hear you sneaking down to the batcave every night? The floorboards are old you know.”

 Not knowing what else to do, you put up your walls. “What are you spying on me or something? The fuck Drake, I thought we were a team?” 

 Tim faltered at your response, not knowing what provoked this outburst, “What? No. Of course not. I just care about you okay?” 

 The teen walked over to you and lifted his hand, bringing it up to caress your cheek. However before he could make contact, you pulled away instantly. Hurst flared in Tim’s eyes. 

 He sighed, “Okay. Well I’m going back down, feel free to come down if you need anything.” Walking to the door, Tim shut it behind him and waited for a few second, seeing if you would change your mind.

However all he was left to hear was floorboards creaking and pained counting as you continued your workout. 

The third thing Tim noticed was a change in your clothing style. Suddenly all of your favourite dresses, crop tops and t-shirts were swapped out for baggy hoodies and men’s jumpers. Tim swears you steal them from Jason.  

The two of you were sat on the floor of the batcave, Damian off in the distance spearing dummys with his katana. 

 “So” Tim started, “last night I was looking into our case and I found out some pretty interesting facts. The guy were looking at, his name is Gregory Jacobs and guess what, he works for Sionis. If we crack him, he could be a huge lead to whatever- what’re you doing?” 

 “Huh?” You looked up at Tim. 

 The teen pointed at your wrist which you currently had two digits wrapped around. Immediately, you unclasped your grip. 

"That?” You laughed, “That was nothing. Just something I do when I’m nervous.” Based on the inflection in your voice and your lack of eye contact, Tim could instantly tell you were lying. However, like last time, he decided to drop it. 

 “Uh, Sure… what’s your opinion on the Jacobs thing? Say we go on patrol tonight?” Tim quirked an eyebrow, obviously really intent on taking down Sionis’ men. 

“Yeah. Sure.” You said distantly. Tim was about to respond when you opened your mouth again. “Hey Timmy, you mind if I take a nap. I’m just really tired right now and want to rest up before patrol, you know?” You stood up from your spot on the floor. 

 “Um yeah. Go take a nap. I’ll catch up with you later about the case.” Tim stood up too and leaned in to kiss you on the check, only for you to once again pull away abruptly. 

You gave a weak smile and ran up the stairs from the cave, heading towards your room. 

“Somethings wrong with her, Drake.” Tim turned around to find his little brother, sheathing his katana. 

“I know. I just wish she would tell me.” The older teen sighed. 

 “Do you wish me to talk with her?” Damian asked, shocking Tim. Why all of a sudden was he being nice? 

 Tim shook his head, “No, it’s fine Damian. She’ll just get annoyed with you. I’ll just wait for her to talk.” 

 The younger Wayne nodded, “I’m only asking for her well-being, Drake. Don’t get any ideas I’m going soft on you.” 

 Tim smirked, enjoying this unusual moment with his brother, “of course not Damian, I wouldn’t expect that of you.” 

 “Good. Now I am going to go play fetch with Titus. If you decide you’d like me to talk with (Y/N), I shall be in the yard.” Damian went up the stairs leaving Tim by his lonesome. Lost and confused on how to help you get through… whatever you were going through. 

 The fourth time Tim noticed something was off was when you fainted on patrol. And man, was that the scariest night of his life.

“Red Robin to Batgirl, I’ve located Jacobs, are you in place to attack?” 

It was the night of the mission. Tim was overly stoked whereas you, well you had your mind on other things. The suit felt really tight, almost like you were too big to be in it, you’d much rather opt for your oversized hoodies. You kept thinking about the breakfast you had that morning, everything was just too much. “Yeah...” you responded.

“Good. Batman,” Tim spoke into the coms, “we’re moving in.” 

You swung your grappling gun to the nearest ledge, jumping off your current perch, and ow, why did that hurt? Your shoulder felt like it was on fire and when you landed on your feet, you felt like you broke both your ankles. 

You hissed in pain and Tim heard, “Batgirl, are you okay?” 

You nodded, “Fine, dunno why that hurt all of a sudden though...”

To say Tim was worried about this mission was an understatement. For the past few weeks, though you had been working out, you seemed to be quite frail, walking slowly, speaking with no energy - it was scaring Tim. But still, you insisted you come on the mission.

“Okay, just please be careful... I’m going in, are you behind me?”

You mumbled a ‘yes’ into the earpiece and followed your partner into the building.

Flipping down from the awning, you stumbled on your landing, luckily Red Robin was there to catch your fall. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he whispered to you.

You shrugged him off in annoyance, muttering an ‘of course I am.’

“Okay, we’re going to split up from here, I’m going to take the two guys in the back and you can handle the one by the cargo, then we’ll both go after Jacobs.”

Though you didn’t see why Tim insisted you only take down one goon, you complied with the plan and snuck over to the cases of drugs.

Quietly, you reached out behind the thug and pressed your hand to his mouth, pulling him behind the crate. You tried to use your core strength to flip and straddle his neck but to no avail, you were just too weak.

He got the better of you and wailed a punch at your temple. You stumbled slightly, blinking away the dark spots in your vision. Cursing, you charged at the man again, batarang in hand. 

You threw it at your target but alas, the force wasn’t strong enough and it clattered against the crate, limply falling to the ground.

was the room spinning or was it just you?

At this point you couldn’t even tell. Nonetheless, you tried to attack one more time, sliding onto the floor you stuck your leg out in means to trip him, but it just barely made the man sway.

He laughed, “So this is Batgirls replacement? A weak little twig like you?”

You felt a flare of anger in your chest, how dare he call you a replacement!

You let out and angry growl and with all of your might pounced at him, tackling the large man to the ground. 

He laughed again, and easily threw your body off of him, leaving you to crash into a wooden crate.

You laid on the floor staring up at the ceiling, was the ceiling always that high up? Where are those dots coming from?

Weakly, you tried to sit up, ignoring the heaviness of your head, at least that was until you passed out.

When you came to, you realized you were in fact, tied to a chair, however not by yourself. Tim was tied behind you on his own chair.

“Timmy?” you mumbled.

The teens ears perked up, “(Y/N)? Oh thank god, you scared me so bad.”

“Tim, what happened? Why are we tied up?”

He sighed in response and craned his neck to look at you, “After you fainted, the third thug came at me. There was just too many of them for me to handle while thinking about if you were dead. God, (Y/N), you scared me so bad. Please don’t do that again.”

“It’s not like I chose to faint, Tim.” You sneered, upset that he was putting the blame on you.

“Well you are the one that chose not to eat. The one that chose to overwork them self. The one that didn’t ask for help when you were clearly struggling... I mean, am I wrong?”

You gulped, so he knew... 

“Tim... I-”

“(Y/N) I’m not mad at you, I just want to know, why? Why put yourself through that?” He pleaded with you.

You sighed and then out of frustration and exhaustion, let out a cry. “I had to okay?! I saw footage of Babs and saw how much prettier and skinnier and smarter and just better than me she was. I didn’t have a choice but to fix myself to live up to her legacy.”

Tim’s heart broke at your sobs, god he wish he cold take away your pain and just tell you how naturally beautiful and smart and unique and talented you are... He just didn’t know how.

“(Y/N)... you didn’t have to do any of that. You, you’re amazing just the way you are. And, and I know I wont be able to change your mind but, but... I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. I never wanted you to be any more than you already were because in my eyes you’re amazing. You’re my (Y/N) and I wouldn’t ask for any different.”

You gasped, I mean you knew there was something between you and Tim, but love? He loved you? You cried again, overwhelmed. “Tim, I love you too. I just thought I had to be better, to prove myself to you all, to show that I actually deserved the title of Batgirl.”

“Oh love, if you want to talk to someone about deserving their title, hell talk to me. I’ve struggled with that for years. But I would never, ever tell you to do something like this. You’re so much more than a body. You’re just a beautiful soul, inside and out.”

“God Timmy, you’re such a sap... But you’re my sap. Or, is that okay?”

Tim smiled, leaning his head on your shoulder, “That more than okay.”

The two of you stayed like that for a bit until you were brought back to reality. “Hey Tim...” The teen in question gave a loving ‘hmm?’

“Um, how are we going to get out of this?”

[littlemissonewhoisall]

Guide to writing Cassandra Cain

I’ve seen a lot of people in the Bat Family fandom say that they often minimize or exclude Cassandra from their works because they don’t know enough about her. While I HIGHLY recommend reading her Batgirl comic from 2000, I’ve compiled a guide to her personality, abilities, and relationships with other DC characters here for easy reference. (I’ve tried to be as comprehensive as possible, but I’ve probably forgotten something so please feel free to add onto this if you know the character well)

PERSONALITY

Cassandra has a difficult time with language, spoken or written. This generally manifests through her relying on body language and single-word sentences to get her point across. When she needs to speak, it is halting and awkward, but not broken. She will pause frequently, mumble, or use Malapropisms, but she is a perfectionist and is frustrated when she doesnt use perfect grammar or pronunciation. At times she will be unable to find the words for a particular thought. She usually is portrayed as being unable to read or write. 

Cass sometimes uses mimicry when she has trouble putting words together herself, quoting films, tv shows, and plays.  

Cassandra is compassionate above all else. She values life, and protecting it is her highest priority. She will not hesitate to put herself in danger to save others, and does not tolerate killing. 

Cassandra has a strong guilt complex. Anyone who dies on her watch weighs heavily on her conscience, even if there was nothing she could’ve done to stop it. She does not let go of these “failures” easily. 

Cassandra has little regard for societal norms and expectations. While generally caring and compassionate, she often comes across as rude due to spending most of her life either locked in a bunker or surviving in the wilderness. This includes poor table manners, a tendency to lurk in the shadows, and mirroring her adoptive father’s habit of coming and going without warning. 

Cassandra has great pride in her physical prowess, but little in her moral character. Though she has a strong moral code and is quick to intervene when others break it, she does not see herself as above them and may even have more faith in them than in herself, as she still feels that she may not be able to rise above her upbringing. She can be rather arrogant about her superior agility and combat prowess, however. 

Cassandra is fond of friendly jibes and snark, usually but not always expressed nonverbally. Her sense of humor is slightly unconventional, but usually good-natured. 

Cassandra wears her heart on her sleeve. She is very emotional, and her past trauma can make her emotionally vulnerable, especially because of her lack of communicative skills. Her emotions show through her entire body, even when she doesn’t vocalize them. 

Cassandra is quick to leap before looking, but excellent at adapting to unexpected situations. She is a poor planner and rather impulsive, with a rebellious streak that sometimes makes it hard for her to listen to instructions. However, she is great at thinking on her feet and analyzing her situation in the moment.

Cassandra does not do things in half measures. When she wants to learn something, such as reading or detective work, she is eager to dive into the deep end even if it’s not always the best way to approach it. As mentioned before she is also a perfectionist when it comes to herself, so this approach often leads to frustration. 

Cassandra is very physically affectionate, with little mind for personal space. This often comes in the form of gently touching the face of someone she believes to be in pain. 

Cassandra is extremely empathetic, to the point that it can be overwhelming for her at times. She is very good at spotting falsehoods, hidden pain, etc. 

Despite this, she often misinterprets social cues. For instance, when Barbara and Dick were going through a rough patch in their relationship, she though Dick had intentionally done something to hurt Barbara, and threw him out a window. 

ABILITIES

Cass is fast. Really, really fast. She can move incredibly quickly and quietly, making her very hard to track.

Cass has a shocking amount of strength for her small size. She has punched through 3-inch thick quartz glass, kicked down concrete walls, and thrown a metahuman more than twice her size without issue. 

Her primary advantage comes from her ability to read body language and predict her opponents’ actions, allowing her to dodge bullets and outmaneuver pretty much any non powered opponent. This ability does not work on robots, animals, or sufficiently nonhuman aliens. 

Cassandra is a contender for the world’s best martial artist, along with Lady Shiva and Richard Dragon. She can pick up new fighting styles nearly instantly, allowing her to learn and adapt techniques she’s never encountered before. 

Cass is an incredible acrobat, though not as good as Nightwing. 

Cass is able to control the amount of force she uses to the point that she doesn’t usually have to worry about killing even when using normally lethal techniques. 

She is able to use pressure points to paralyze someone nearly instantly, though she has only shown the ability to use it on those who do not expect her to attack.

She can stop a person’s heart using a special technique, and in later appearances was able to do so without endangering the person for a good length of time, though they’d still die if not revived within that time period. 

She is very good at analyzing her surroundings, which has helped her solve cases. 

Cassandra is exceptional at dividing her attention and energy, able to coordinate herself to the point that government agents assumed she was a metahuman. 

She is very good at the intimidation side of the job, able to terrify even trained killers. 

RELATIONSHIPS

Cassandra is very close to Stephanie Brown, who was her first real friend. She can be a bit overprotective of her, even using violence to keep her out of fights that Cass thinks will be too much for her, though she has largely grown out of that and these days has a lot more faith in her. Cassandra is able to unwind with Stephanie in ways that she has trouble doing with around other people, even those she trusts like Barbara and Tim. When Stephanie seemingly died, Cassandra was deeply affected, becoming shorter-tempered and more violent. 

Cassandra sees Barbara as the mother she never had, and values her insight. Though she often chafes at Barbara’s well-intentioned attempts to get her to see beyond her life as Batgirl, she still cares deeply for her. 

Cass sees Bruce as somewhat of a father figure as well as a bit of an idol, and seeks his approval. When she believes that she has disappointed him, it can be devastating for her. However, she also recognizes his pain and trauma, and sympathizes strongly with it. Her admiration also doesn’t always mean she’ll do what he says.

While Cassandra and Dick don’t always get along (as mentioned earlier), she usually sees him as a mentor and big brother, and she is often more relaxed around him than most people. 

Cass and Jason’s interactions have been largely confrontational, and it’s likely that further encounters would be similar, as she is strongly opposed to lethal force and would endeavor to stop him if she could. That said, she would almost certainly understand the pain he went through, and would try to get through to him with words as much as she is capable, rather than immediately resorting to violence. 

Cass and Tim have a long and complicated history. While the two of them started off rather tense, with Tim being somewhat intimidated by her, they soon grew very close, and treat each other as siblings. Their strengths complement each other, and they are able to work in synch with each other very well. She has also been known to break into his house to steal food and take a shower. 

Like Jason, Cass’s interactions with Damian are few and far between. Their first meeting didn’t end well, as Cassandra pulled him from a building when he was disarming a bomb despite his protests that he could handle it. While she found some of what he said hurtful, she didn’t seem to hold much of a grudge, and I think they could find common ground due to their similar backgrounds. 

Cassandra and Duke seem to be friends, though beyond that little is known of their relationship.

Cassandra is close with Harper Row, and the two of them definitely care for one another despite the troubled history between them.

Cass and Jean-Paul Valley bonded quickly over their shared inexperience with society, and they are both very fond of one-another. 

Cassandra is friends with Dinah Lance, who she has been shown to train with on occasion. 

Cass does not get along with Helena Bertinelli for obvious reasons, and when they worked together during the Battle for the Cowl there was quite a bit of tension between them. 

Cassandra had a close relationship with Basil Karlo/Clayface during the time that he had reformed, as she had faith in his ability to change. His apparent death devastated her.

Her relationship with her biological father is complicated. Though she has always despised what he does for a living, it took a long time for her to come to terms with how badly he treated her. 

Cass’s relationship with her biological mother is even more complex. In most depictions, Cassandra respects Shiva in some ways, but is also troubled by all of the lives that she’s taken.