#duke: OR SOMETHING??

[redsray]

i love the (slightly cracky) premise that the newer batkids like duke who weren't around during jason's genuine "i hate the batfam" era would sometimes forget that it even happened so there'd be times where it would go:

Tim: where are you going

Jason: got a call from a friend in the alley, some fuckers need bullets in their knees. tell B and i'll kill you

Tim: no you won't

Jason: i dunno, i almost did it twice, third time's the charm

Tim: boooo you'll have to try harder

Jason, flipping him off as he leaves: watch your back, timmers!

Duke, who was sitting next to Tim the whole time: ??? he almost did it twice???? i thought he's joking when he says that????

Tim: oh, he is joking whenever he says that now. try a few years ago and it wouldn't have been as much of a joke

Duke: ???????????

Tim, snorting: i'd like to see him try again, anyway. once you realise that spends 80% of his free time in the local library he becomes no better than a nerdy loser who happens to be a bit dangerous

Duke: DUDE

Tim: what? do you find jason scary?

Duke: not usually but DUDE?!?!?

[rainpunk07]

hear me out, danny speaking russian (dc x dp hc)

so i was just watching a video about space, right? allegedly, turns out if you (an american) wanna board the international space station you must speak russian fluently since the only way to get there is by a russian shuttle and pilot (nasa apparently ended their own shuttle program way back when??) (don’t quote me on this)

so picture danny learning russian at a relatively young age for the sole hope of going to space and such, and it coming out every once in a while when he’s mumbling or something like that (it’s basically second nature to him)

so danny ends up at gotham for whatever reason (demon twins, reveal gone wrong, idc, they’re all cool) and he wants to start anew, so he pretends to only speak russian?? ig?? it’d make for some funny/interesting BatFam interactions i suppose

i don’t know where i was going with this but i want to read prompts of danny speaking russian

[kizzer55555]

The Vampire Aesthetic

Ok so Danny knows two billionaires personally and they really couldn’t be more different. Yet they had one thing in common. A vampire aesthetic. Sam is fully into goth. Spiderwebs, bats, the color black. She enjoys fangs and fake blood and the darkness of her soul. Meanwhile, Vlad is Vlad. If his name wasn’t enough, the dark clothing, pale skin, and flying around with a cape and fangs with coffins in his mansion really sells it.

Danny doesn’t know many rich people so he thinks this might be some kind of trend. (If Paulina is rich, her family likes the chupacabra) So he just thinks that all rich people have some kind of vampire thing going on.

Cue Danny somehow ending in the Wayne household. Maybe he was brought over as a friend of one of the bats, maybe rescued from a field trip/vacation gone wrong, maybe some other situation. But he is there in civilian form with civilian Waynes and Danny just takes a good long look around the inside of the mansion.

“So where’s the vampire aesthetic?

Everyone freezes.

Danny just starts looking around, checking behind paintings and feeling the walls for secret levers. Used to secret passages with Vlad and possibly Sam. The Fentons definitely had them when they were temporarily rich.

“Come on, I know you guys are hiding it.”

Cue the entire batfamily thinking that this is another Tim and that he is fully aware that these people are the batfamily. Danny hangs around the mansion more and the bats just start dropping their disguises and not even bothering to hide stuff around Danny because they assume he already knows. (Possibly even trying to recruit him to be a new bat) Meanwhile, Danny, who does not know these people are batman and his birds, just does not pick up on any of it.

He grew up in a health violation with a giant ballon observatory lab above his head and a portal to the afterlife in his basement. He is a half dead teenager who has tea with the god of time and his godfather is the other parent to his clone child. He’s used to death lazers being scattered across his home and mysterious stains on clothing.

People are weird! He doesn’t judge!

[sleepy-cone]

Pssst...hey... Alfred can't be "good" if Bruce is "bad"

If Bruce is written as abusive and obsessed with "the mission," then logistically, ya gotta write Alfred as an enabler/accessory to the abuse.

It is impossible for Alfred to be there throughout all Robins, be first witness for multiple years with multiple children "suffering" and still have the kids be like: "Oh well, Alfred is still an angel, though." They would've known he hadn't helped them.

Imagine a building is on fire, and someone just stands there and watches it. They didn't start it, but they also don't try to put it out. They don't help anyone get out. They don't even bother calling for help. Yet, they still get a medal for their bravery??

There would only be 2 ways that Alfred could be seen as a "loving grandfather" if he

1. Outright stops Bruce by confronting him directly or getting the kids out from the first sign of abuse.

2. If Bruce is at least a somewhat decent father. Sure, he can make mistakes, and he can fumble sometimes. But Bruce can not be actively harmful to the kids for years without Alfred being aware and choosing to leave the kids to fend for themselves.

Alfred would have to be written as a non questions asked, 100% dedicated to only a "True Wanye" kind of butler. He would have to see the kids as not real Wayne's to allow an abusive Bruce to continuously harm them. The kids would know this and hate BOTH of them.

[deostyx]

cape cape cape cape CAPE CAPE CAPE

[nikovraskol]

I'm curious of other members of batfamily reaction to reader's death? Like Cassandra, Stephanie and Barbara?

i was gonna add them to the first part but i lowkey don't have a good grasp on their characters, pls lmk how i can improve them im working on chapter 3 rn yall, it should be out soon so. >:)

if u saw alfreds part no u didnt i forgot he was dead LMAO

masterlist

cassandra isn't sure how she's supposed to deal with the heavy emotions in her chest. she can tell something is wrong the moment bruce walks in, his whole demeanour spelling tragedy. you've died? oh. a heavy feeling settles in her chest, she's mostly confused. the two of you weren't necessarily close, so why? why does she feel such sadness? such agony? she picks her brain, scowering for ever single memory of you -- your mannerisms she picked up out of habit, she'll find herself walking around your room, sitting in the kitchen every morning at the hour which you used to eat breakfast, she looks around every corner hoping to see the small child you were, peeking around with hopeful eyes. she doesn't like the way her heart clenches when she sees nothing but her own shadow.

stephanie is filled with tremendous guilt, she sits in your room, taking in every nook and cranny, every sign of your personality. she's not officially apart of the family, so she understands on a surface level -- the frustrations you felt. she's left with a memory of what could've been, her mind replaying each interaction with you, what she initially deemed as awkward was in fact just you crying out for help. she's supposed to help people, but when you held out a hand for her, she didn't take it, didn't help, how can she forgive herself? how can she move on?

barbara's been there from the start, she remembers when bruce took in a small child, a child who declined the future of vigilantism. she respected that, she's happy bruce has at least one normal child. but now, staring at your cold, dead body -- she's forced to acknowledge that she shouldn't have brushed you off, she should've understood that there is no such thing as a 'normal' child, you were a child, a child who lurked in the corners of the manor. she helps bruce to track down your killers, she slides jason some information about them. she wants vengeance for you, but how can she get it? your murderers can be thrown in a cell, but they're not the ones who made you suffer, not really.

duke is perplexed, the energy around the manor has completely depleted -- and as he stares at your body, he understands why. as the newest member of the family, he didn't understand you. in a family of greatness, there was you. but despite that, he spoke to you a few times, he remembers how you lit up when he complimented your homework, the way your demeanour shifted from gloomy to excited. why didn't he see the signs? he feels a crushing sorrow, but more than that, with your passing, he's able to see the cracks in the family -- he's able to see how your normalcy was the glue that stuck them together.

[casscainmainly]

I love how Cass is like 'I couldn't find a present for Dick :(' and Duke's first response is to comfort Cass, and then say 'just give him something already in the house'. Like he really doesn't give a damn about Dick. What an icon.

From Batman: Urban Legends #10

[violent138]

Tim, looking around the darkened corridor: "You think it's a good idea to be breaking into random places right now?"

Jason said nothing, fumbling in his pockets.

Dick: "You live here, don't you?" Which gets everyone's attention laser-focused.

Jason just cast him a look, getting the door open.

Steph entered first, smacking into something that falls over. "Jeez." She complained, stumbling backward until Cass steadied her by the shoulders. "Sorry, that's my bad."

Duke turned on the lights in one motion, making everyone blink and wince.

"Get off me." Damian snapped, and Dick carefully let him go, letting him limp angrily into a chair. He frowned, scrutinizing the place. "You live here? Why would anyone--"

"Guys." Dick rubbed his eyes over the mask, cutting off Damian and Jason’s sharp answer. "First aid kit?" Dick asked Jason tiredly.

Jason nodded, moving to get it and heard Damian ask "What?" in response to a patented glare he must be getting.

Tim had made a beeline for the kitchen. "Dude, why do you have a singular set of dishes? And why are there just guns in this cabinet?"

Jason scoffed, handing Dick the kit. "Didn't realize I was running a fucking bed and breakfast."

"There's guns in this cabinet too!" Tim shook his head, opening and closing two more. "Oh good, just large knives in this one."

At Tim's raised eyebrows, Jason went into the kitchen and shooed Cass down the counter she was perched on, grabbing the paper plates he kept in a drawer and shoving them into Tim's chest.

Glancing at the way Steph was rubbing her neck, slouched at the table, Jason grabbed two ice packs, sliding one her way and throwing the other to Damian.

Duke, taking a book off Jason's meticulously organized shelf: "Why do you have seven copies of Pride and Prejudice? Did you keep forgetting you bought it, or--?"

Jason, storming over to put the book back. "Stop."

Dick looked up from the wound he was stitching. "Are they different at at all?"

"Are they in different languages?" Steph asked.

"Did you barter them for food? Because your fridge is fucking empty." Tim reported.

Jason groaned, realizing that they weren't going to drop it. "One has a different introduction and one is the zombies version. And yes, the rest are the same, now could you all stop touching stuff?"

"Why do you have five copies of the same book?"

[aingeal98]

The "Our dads are assholes club" founded by Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown current membership now includes Damain Wayne and Jason Todd, both there due to Bruce although they constantly argue that the other is a fake dad hater and their claim is more legitimate, and also Duke Thomas, who always starts the meeting by saying that he loves his parents. His biological father is the asshole NOT his actual dad. Everyone knows this by now but they hold space for his introduction speech before going into their biweekly Bruce bitching session and finishing up with depressing anecdotes about Cluemaster and David Cain that only Steph and Cass laugh about.

[lustwithoutlore]

Barbara: What did you get Dick for his birthday?

Jason: I got him a Glutemaster

Barbara: Really? Me too!

Stephanie: I also got him a Glutemaster.

Duke, gesturing to himself and Tim: Looks like we had the same idea.

Jason, sighing: Kill me. Please tell me you didn’t get Dick a Glutemaster as well.

Cass: I got him… a Glutemaster 🥰

Later-

Dick, surrounded by Glutemasters: THIS IS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!

[breadandblankets]

stop making duke surprised that Jason died not only does he Canonically know that Jason died but Canonically jokes about it To His Face okay

[haveihitanerve]

Gotham Protects Her Own

“Gotham protects her own.” Bruce had whispered to him once, in a, at the time, not so rare moment of affection, cradling dick to his chest as they looked over his city. Their city. Batman and Robin. Dick had believed him, of course, but he hadn’t really felt it. Not until he had stood at the bats side for the second year in a row, and his cape had fluttered. Dicks cape had never fluttered while he was standing. Running across the rooftops? Sure. Jumping over a chimney? Most definitely. But just standing still, no movement? It had never happened. Bruce’s did, from the very beginning Bruce’s cape had flown behind him, flapping with grace in the wind that was not there. But dicks hadn’t. But now… Bruce smiled down at him, pride lining every line in his face, before he took off across the roof, a challenge and a test at the same time. Dick chased after him, and for the first time since he had become Robin, he flew. His feet barely touched down, cushioned by the roofs, by shadows, and he laughed, wild and bright and free, and Bruce joined him, laugh deep and rich and full. Dick belonged to Gotham now, the city had laid her claim on him, and as Batman and Robin flew across the city, Dick could hear a new laugh join them, light and happy and feminine, delighted by their delight, their acceptance. Gotham protects her own, and Dick Grayson-Wayne, the first Robin, had earned that right, that protection, with his leaps and jokes and belief in Batman, in a belief in the city, in the belief that it could be better. 

Gotham protects her own. Catherine Todd had murmured to him once, late one night, a bruise blossoming on her cheek, eyes heavy from drugs. She was close to death, Jason could feel it practically wafting off her, and he didn't think much of her last words, a hazy drugged hallucination, slurred speech. But then she had passed and Jason had left, choosing the street over his father and then he had understood. People came looking for him, naturally, even his father ventured out, but shadows seemed to envelop him, the streets opened to his footfalls, and he always found a safe place to sleep, never waking with his things stolen or suddenly kidnapped. Jason could feel the city, his very lifeblood, could hear her music in her traffic, felt her song in the earthquakes. Gotham cradled him, sheltered him, and when the time came, pushed him to a left unattended Batmobile, tempting him to steal the tires. For the first time, Jason doubted his city, hated her for sending him into a trap. But then he became Robin, and Gotham squealed in delight, and Jason watched in awe as Bruce flew, as Gotham made his cloak billow, as she nurtured her prodigal son. Batman had gotten injured, once, badly enough that he had struggled with his grapple line, and it had snapped. Jason had screamed, lunging for him, but it was too late. Before he could cry over the dead body of his mentor, he found Bruce at the bottom of the building, not much worse for wear at all. Gotham had cradled him, shadows leaping to cushion his fall. Jason had laughed with glee, rushing Bruce home as quickly as possible, and something had brushed his cheek, a faint kiss against his forehead. Gotham protects her own and Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin, had been born into that right, that protection, and felt her city pound through his body like blood, feeding his soul. 

Gotham protects her own. Tim had seen the slogan on a Wayne Enterprise billboard once, when he had been seven, an ad campaign promoting insurance and helpful housing. It had become a sort of mantra for him, something he whispered under his breath every time his father made a snide comment about Tim lacking proper talent or social skills, after every call his parents declined, after every fight that had him biting his lip to stop the tears and debate running away. Gotham protects her own. Became his lifeline, his mantra, a promise of a better life. It wasn't anything he ever believed, until he finally worked up the courage to approach Bruce Wayne about the secret. Tim slipped on the Robin uniform for the first time… And something inside him settled. A woman's voice in the back of Tim’s head squealed. But as he raced over the rooftops, finally at Batman's side as he always dreamed to be instead of a few feet behind, snapping pictures, his cape dancing with the wind, his feet hardly touching down, that mantra, that false belief of hope, of a better life, became truth. Gotham protects her own, and Tim Drake-Wayne, the third Robin, had believed in that truth his whole life, wishing with every fiber of his being that she would protect him, and she finally had. 

Gotham protects her own. David Cain had warned her once, telling her great stories of the city with air of midnight black, of water a putrid green, and of a people a hardy and tough. It hadn't been a compliment, just another obstacle she would need to overcome to fulfill her future missions. She had believed him, of course, but… she had never truly known what it meant. Not until she had stumbled into the city, hurt, bleeding, afraid, and she had felt that… otherworldly power. Reaching for her. Its tendrils soft and kind, like a mother, shadows stretching across her, shielding her, as the League prowled the streets. It wasn't until she saw him. The Bat. And his little Bird, brutal efficiency and yet mercy in every action, wasn't until she saw how Gotham cradled them, lifted them, helped them to fly. Gotham had been more accepting to her than she had thought. Maybe because she hadn't hurt her children. Maybe because she knew her pain. Maybe because Cass had been so afraid. But whatever the reason, when Cassandra Cain-Wayne took to the streets, a proud, blazing Bat on her chest, her cape billowing behind her, Gotham sang. 

“Gotham protects her own!” Arthur Brown had screamed once. It had been in a fit of rage, followed by the sounds of windows crashing and tables smashing against the wall. He had been angry, livid even, the sound of his footsteps heavy and hard on the floor as he stormed around, pissed that Batman was unreachable for him, untouchable, protected by the city he claimed to do the same to. Steph knew the truth in the words, had been protected by them her whole life, finding a window open right when her father got home, the closet door unlocked miraculously after her father had locked her up, alleyways opening for her to escape through when bigger kids picked on her, or the cops chased her. And it happened now, as Arthur Brown came storming for her, rage and malice and every evil intention written across his features. Steph could feel that tug, that indescribable feeling of home, and she took a step back, melting into the shadows as she fled, fled her home, fled her father, fled his wrath and everything wrong with the world. She settled on the roof, the way she always did when he got like this, and waited, as she always did. For it to end. For him to stop. It was that night that she saw him for the first time. Steph had heard of him, of course, the Batman was infamous throughout Gotham by now, but she had never seen him in person. Never watched his work. It was at Bethany’s house. Bethany’s father, Vincent, was screaming again. The way Arthur was. But Gotham, Gotham didn't protect Bethany the way she did Steph. Or maybe Bethany just didn't listen. But Batman.. Batman listened. Batman protected. Steph watched, wide eyed, as he jumped through the window, as he grabbed Vincent by the throat and slammed him against the wall, snarling in his face. Steph watched, hands clutching her teddy, wondering whether she would rather risk her father than this demon. But he stopped. Paused. Threw Vincent to the ground in disgust, unconscious, and turned to Bethany. Beth had stopped moving, the way she always did when Vincent got the way he did, dissociating so she wouldn't feel his hands on her. Steph didn't think it worked, but it was something. Batman bent down, gentle, slowly, a few feet away, extending a hand to Beth. Steph couldn't hear what he said, couldn't see his face, but Beth blinked at him. She blinked, and she walked closer, slowly. And Batman… Batman held her, held her until she was crying, held her through her tears and wiped her eyes and rubbed her back, held her until she was asleep without nightmares, and carried her to bed, tucking her in gently. Steph didn't know how long she sat there, watching as he cared for this little girl, forgoing the Bat Symbol in the sky, and his anger, for her. Gotham protects her own, Steph swore as she watched him drop from the window the same night, flitting away on shadows only she could see. Gotham protects her own, and she would protect Gotham. She would mold herself after the Bat, and help. 

[spicy-apple-pie]

Pov your mom and dad are fighting

based off this low res comic panel lol

[welcometogrouchland]

ANOTHER SKETCH DUMP! Featuring more of me playing with lineless art. Batman reborn era trio (dick, damian and steph) I miss you...when will you return from war. Also featuring Steph designs bc I've seen ppl dissatisfied w/ her current look, some good mom Talia, and Jason Todd poetry club. Duke is confused not that Jason would start a poetry club but that he'd have such mid poetry opinions. (ID in Alt)

[aangarchy]

The funniest thing about the boiling rock episodes is zuko telling sokka at the start how this prison houses the most dangerous and notorious criminals of the fire nation as well as war prisoners, and then at the end they just let one of them tag along without ever asking him what he was in for. Could have brought a serial killer to meet the fucking avatar and they'd be none the wiser

[periswirl]

DP×DC Prompt

Love the idea of Danny being a horror movie child.

Like he somehow ends up with a non-supernatural DC family, be it the Kent's or the Batfam, and kind of just....is vaguely unsettling at first.

He stares into dark corners laughs at jokes only he hears. Tells random people things no one else should know.

And, used to weird, his new family let's it slide. Then they start seeing things. His shadow is bigger than it should be. Multiple eyes appear in the dark, watching them. Whispers fill the halls at night.

It's driving some crazy as they can SWEAR that when Danny gets mad they hear the screams of the damned.

Meanwhile Danny is chilling with his bodygaurd Fright Knight and is happy to have visits from his former rogues who make sure to check in on him as he's going through a rough patch in his life and, as a young ghost, is very susceptible to drastic changes.