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peppersonironi · 3 years

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Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter 2

Next chapter for my Duke Thomas Big Bang fic is up!

(Once again, a hearty thank you to my betas @queerbutstillhereand @theycallme-ook)

Read On Ao3

It was four am on a Friday morning, a week after Duke had decided he’d had enough of Bruce’s - and the other’s - incorrect opinion of him.

It was so early in the morning, that the main group of bats had been trickling back from patrol over the past hour or so. Stephanie and Cassandra had arrived first, followed by Jason ten minutes later. Then Tim had gotten back from his route with Harper, and Kate and Bette had stopped by for a bit (but eventually left for their own homes). Dick came home next, and Bruce had returned last with Damian.

Everyone was in varying states of winding down, with Stephanie at one end of the spectrum wearing silk pajamas, a fluffy robe which Duke was sixty-seven percent sure was Bruce’s, and bright pink bunny slippers Duke was positive were Dick’s. On the other side, Bruce hadn’t even pulled off his cowl, and was sitting down in front of the Batcomputer to work on a case.

Though Duke thought that Tim deserved his own category, dressed in a strange combination of disco track suit and kevlar body armor, and was hunched over three cans of energy drinks and a quart jug filled with espresso shots.

Duke leaned down to double check that his boots were laced up - one time he hadn’t, and had then proceeded to trip and fall into a garbage pile. Not. Fun.

He looked up, however, when Bruce clicked open a case file. So did everyone else, as if drawn by some invisible force.

They all clearly saw as Bruce hovered his mouse over a link which had been typed in sometime while the big bat had been away. The only hint to what it could be was the note reading “New Evidence.”

Bruce grunted in what for anyone else would be an exclamation of curiosity and went to click the link.

Which clearly went to YouTube.

In unison, all the bats’ eyes widened in realization. You see, in a family such as this one, pranks abounded. So they all had painstakingly memorized that series of letters and numbers.

They all knew what it meant.

Suddenly, the Batcave lit up with the dancing form of one Rick Astley. It was everywhere. On the several large monitors that made up the Batcomputer. The various screens spread across the caves. Everyone’s phones somehow were affected. As well as the X-Ray machine in the med bay, which was showing a skeleton dancing.

Bruce jumped up, rage full on his face. “Who did this? Make it stop!”

No one answered, all too frozen in shock at what had happened.

“Who…” Dick whispered from beside Jason, “Who would be that brave?”

“Yeah,” Jason whispered back, “Rick Rolls were banned at the 2015 family reunion after you played it two hundred and thirteen times in a row.”

Dick grinned, “those were good times.”

The two eldest boys began to bicker, Jason complaining that Rick Rolls were a part of the war crimes banned by the Geneva Convention, and Dick saying he “liked it: so there.”

Meanwhile, the song was reaching the chorus, and the other bats finally began to react. The three girls were dancing on top of exercise equipment, popping bottles of sparkling cider - or was that champagne? For their own sakes, they should hope it’s the former - they had pulled out of what seemed to be thin air.

Damian was in the corner, trying to get Titus to dance to the music - though he glanced around every so often to make sure that no one was noticing his moment of fun.

Tim was still nursing his collection of drinks like an alcoholic nursed a bottle.

Bruce was practically foaming at the mouth by that point.

“This is NOT FUNNY!”

That, of course, made everyone just start laughing harder. In the corner, Steph started to do the macarena completely off-tempo from the music. Cass seemed to be chugging the cider that Harper was pouring into her mouth.

Just then the holographic training simulations lit up, and Rick Astly began making his way across the cave, dancing all the way.

Bruce glared up at the semi transparent form of the singer, as if trying to force him into submission.

“T-pose to assert dominance!” Jason called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Yeah, that’ll totally work, B! Trust us!” Dick called as well.

Bruce took a moment to turn his head and glare at the two former Robins, who only smiled like the angels they clearly thought they were.

The image was not aided by the two giant stuffed swordfish just pulled from Jason’s utility belt.

“En guarde!” He cried, and tossed the one in his left hand at Damian, who had been trying to reassure his dog that the giant man wasn’t real.

The thirteen year old screeched, but caught the four foot long fish by its fin.

“This is animal abuse!” He cried.

“It’s not abuse if it’s dead!” Jason countered, and attacked the youngest bat with a passion.

As the duel progressed, Cassandra tried to raise her hand and gurgle out a bet on who would win, but began to choke on the liquid.

Harper cursed as she tossed away the sixth bottle of cider and tried to give Cass the heimlich maneuver.

Dick, meanwhile, pressed a button on one of the many consoles spread around the cave, and several stripper poles came out of hidden storage via hydraulics. He grabbed the nearest one, and began to dance.

“I THOUGHT I DISABLED THOSE?!” Bruce bellowed, as Dick began a twirl.

Stephanie, however, didn’t seem nearly as dismayed at the sight of the poles. She herself smacked a button next to her, and several disco balls dropped down from among the stalactites to join the fun. She then began to morph her macarena into an epic macarena. A few flips here, and a few pantomiming choking your enemies there. And a whole lot of randomly throwing glitter bombs at, well, everywhere.

But especially at the nearest authority figure.

Damian tripped over a bucket during his fight - apparently left over from Alfred’s earlier cleaning spree - and the soapy liquid spilled across the floor.

But, of course, them being the bats, Alfred didn’t use normal soap.

Huge bubbles began to farm from the liquid, the longest almost three feet in diameter, and rise up to the cave’s ceiling. The suds spread around, eagerly began to mingle with Stephanie’s glitter.

A solitary bubble, relatively small, floated over to Bruce’s head, and popped on one of his cowl’s ears. He was not amused.

*****

Five minutes later, everyone was lined up next to the Batcomputer with heads bowed in either shame or disappointment.

Bruce walked up and down the row, the perfect imitation of a drill sergeant. His glare matched as well.

“This is an outrageous breach of protocol,” he was saying, “the Batcomputer is not a toy, nor something to use for your own amusement. It is a serious tool-”

“Then why’s it called the Batcomputer?”

Bruce froze and whirled on Dick, who had chosen that inopportune moment to speak up.

“Because you were nine years old and saying no to you would have gotten me a meltdown.”

“It seems to me, Bossman,” Stephanie began, tenting her fingers in an attempt to act serious (the effect was strange combined with her bathrobe and slippers) “That you are perfectly happy to let Dick get away with things. But in this situation, with women present, you are strangely cold. This shows blatant sexism on your part and in this essay I will-”

“That’s enough, Stephanie.” Bruce cut off as a round of snorts and giggle erupted from the group of bats.

“You do realise that no one here is going to speak, right?” Jason asked, “You did teach us to resist torture. And - pardon my french, Alfred - but you are no fucking way close to the level of torture I’ve gone through. Namely waking up to Batcow sitting on top of me.”

“Are you commenting on her weight?” Damian demanded, glaring daggers at Jason.

“I said no such thing.”

“ Boys .” Bruce demanded, rubbing his temples. “Jason is right - not about Batcow’s weight - but I’m not going to get any of you to talk willingly.” He paused and made eye contact with every single bat present, trying to reach into their souls.

“Therefore,” he continued slowly, “I’m giving you one last chance. Otherwise: No one gets cookies from Alfred for two months. ”

The shock was immediate. Alfred’s cookies, of all kinds, were worth more than gold in the Manor. The ability to not have them? And for two months? Bruce truly was a cruel hearted tyrant if he was willing to go to such lengths.

Duke gulped.

“Fine, then.” Bruce said simply when no one answered. “I guess we’ll just have to check the security footage of the Cave.”

Why didn’t Bruce think of that earlier? He clearly wasn’t trying to give the kids an easy way out.

Bruce stalked over to the computer and began to furiously type at the keys, pulling up the footage for the past few days. The group watched in a tense silence as Bruce rifled through the multiple recordings, searching for the culprit.

“AHA!” Bruce grunted, upon finding a specific time stamp. There was a figure emerging from the shadows. He paused and then slowed down the video so they could all see who it was.

There were several gasps as the figure came into the light, looked around, and made his way to the computer. They had shown their face, not even bothering to hide.

Everyone whirled to Duke, then back to the screen.

“No way,” Harper whispered under her breath.

Because the person on the footage, who was now adding the link to the case file and hooking up bluetooth speakers, was Duke Thomas himself.

Bruce’s eye twitched.

There was a general consensus among the resident vigilantes in the cave at that time: Duke wasn’t going to live to tell the tale.

Duke felt uneasy under their scrutiny, unsure of what to do. This was his plan, after all. To be seen differently. But so far the lack of accusations or uproarious debate was disconcerting.

He looked up at Bruce, awaiting his reaction. Bruce didn’t meet Duke’s eyes.

“Hrn,” he grumbled angrily instead and whirled on Tim. Said teenager was barely standing up straight - well, he was leaning on Steph heavily - and blinked wearily around the cave. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a long moment before he whipped around and furiously began to mess with the playback settings on the footage. Everyone stood still, not daring to move while Bruce grumbled under his breath.

Finally Bruce straightened and pointed dramatically toward the screen.

“There,” he grunted out, and everyone subconsciously leaned a little bit forward.

They didn’t see anything different from before, though Bruce’s finger did bring their attention to one of the bats that flew across the upper left hand corner. A few seconds of footage later, and yet another bat flew across in a similar pattern. Not exactly the same, so it wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Lord knows the bats would randomly fly out and into their hair much more than necessary.

“Note how the figure is disturbed when each bat flies across the screen,” Bruce said in the same voice he used when talking about a case - cold, impersonal, and yet like he was giving a college lecture.

No one spoke, not really sure what to say. I mean, what was the correct course of action when your father figure suddenly refuses to accept reality, and is grasping at the most unlikely of straws?

“I know this technique anywhere,” Bruce said more to himself than the line of vigilantes. He turned, completely passing over Duke, and set his sights on Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake,” Bruce growled, stalking forward, “What possessed you to doctor this footage?”

Tim didn’t respond, only mumbled incoherently and leaned onto Steph some more.

Bruce was furious, bearing his teeth as he spat out his response: “Now is not the time to use the anti-torture training I’ve given you.”

Tim nodded slowly and draped his arm on top of Stephanie’s head.

“You should know better than this,” Bruce began, “pranks are strictly forbidden in the cave, as you very well know. And in addition, I taught you better at framing than this. You choose a victim that could actually be considered as a suspect. Trying to pin the blame on Duke was your undoing - he would never do something like this.”

Duke cringed slightly, as the rest of the bats glanced Duke’s way. All were a mix of confusion and awe.

This … was not how this was supposed to go. No, screw that. That was an outrageous understatement. Things ‘not going according to plan’ would have been Jason randomly blaming Harper for the mess on no grounds - or maybe Bruce not bothering to check the cameras, opting instead to just ground everyone.

But blatantly ignoring evidence and then lecturing someone completely unrelated? No, this was too much. It couldn’t be real. This was some kind of scare-tactic wasn’t it? Duke was too much of an adrenaline junkie to be bothered by the usual ‘hanging upside down over a busy road’ schtick.

But then Bruce moves on to possible culprits Tim could have chosen instead - did he seriously think that Ra’s Al Ghul would Rick Roll them?! - and Duke lost hope.

“Uhh, Bruce?” Duke asked after the ten minute mark.

The Dark Knight turned and faced Duke.

Duke scratched the back of his neck. “Do you think I could head out for patrol now? It’s getting light out, and since you’ve clearly got this covered… I thought I could scoot out?”

Bruce was nodding before the end of Duke’s request. “Yes, go. I’ll deal with Tim. You don’t need to worry - you won’t be blamed. It clearly wasn’t your fault.”

Duke nodded slowly, and covered his disappointment with a small smirk. “Thanks, B.”

He jogged over to the edge of the platform and dropped down beside his Signal-Cycle. A routine mounting, a quick putting on of his helmet, and he was off.

Duke was scowling as he left, wondering what on earth had gone wrong.

*****

“Did you see that smirk?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Did he blame Tim on purpose?”

“How, though? To make such a tactical move -”

“It would have taken a shit ton of planning.”

“Can we get back on the fact that Bruce was fooled?”

“Or who fooled him?!”

#duke thomas #duke thomas big bang #batfam #fanfiction #my fanfiction #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #harper row #cassandra cain #damian wayne #batfamily

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iwritethat · 5 years

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Tim Drake: Sister, Sister

Tim Drake x Sister!reader

A/N: This beautiful idea was all down to @comicsgirlimagines who is truly wonderful and an incredible writer also (check them out), credit goes to them for their support and talks when writing this.

Thank you @comicsgirlimagines ♥️

>>>>——————————>

It was ironic, everything around was designed to perfection, to be exactly what you wanted and needed to maintain a positive existence as a reward for your past choices on Earth.

Yes, Heaven may've been perfect and brought you endless happiness but you were conscious enough to find the faults, for a start your brother was absent - which of course was a blessing, you didn't want him to join you for as long as possible, he had his whole life to live after all. It was entrancing, tuning in to the life events of Tim Drake on occasion, your little brother had certainly taken an interesting path - currently he fought with his new brothers, the League of Assassins were after Damian again and it automatically became a family emergency.

They hopped from rooftop to rooftop, battling various members with each vigilante fighting their own battles yet managing to lend assistance when able. However as you watched on, Red Robin seemed to be doubled down - more assassins were upcoming and he was the first standing in their way. You began to panic, was there even a way to get down there?! You'd looked into such things before as soon as you learned of his hobby, sure you were dead but people constantly connected with the spirit world - such a phenomena should work both ways. Or at least it was a theory under construction at the moment.

———

Another down, then another, and another. It became routine, but with repetitive strain came exhaustion and before Tim could react he'd made what was soon to be a fatal mistake, he should’ve ducked the blade gunning for his throat but instead was a millisecond too late to react. His body falling short of available counters and it was then he realised, this was it - after everything, this was finally how he’d go out. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, he’d aided more people than he ever thought possible but surely there were things he’d miss out on like having the opportunity to become a father, get married or even see Gotham make progress as a city. Regardless, he had made his peace with that and he’d closed his eyes in acceptance ready for whatever awaited him in the afterlife.

It was a split second - he never thought the white light actually existed but it flashed behind his eyelids rather sporadically and suddenly the breath was knocked out of lungs and it felt as though his head collided with concrete.

"Jeez I'll be back soon, don't worry." His sister gave an exasperated sigh, hands on her hips as her little brother tugged at her backpack.

"But (Y/n)! Please let me come with you!" Tim pleaded, successfully halting her in her tracks.

"No way kiddo, you'll probably fall off of the mountain. But hey, no matter how far apart we are, I'll always look out for you. Okay?" She smiled, tousling his hair as he accepted her justification.

"You promise?"

"I pinky promise."

"Hmm, see you when you get back loser." Tim mischievously commented, his sister rolled her eyes with a sarcastic "Oh haha." before heading off on her rock climbing trip.

That was the last time he'd laid eyes on her, unbeknownst to him at the time. And yet, this light, this warm familiar presence brought back such memories - of that day, of the news, of the funeral...

So then, how is it that he could hear her voice so clearly?

"Get up Tim! C'mon loser, I don't know how long I've got!" It was dangerously loud, demanding almost and it made him consider how things hadn’t changed much.

Tim was coming to, clenching his eyes shut in order to adjust to the bright glow that shrouded the area as he sat up with a squint.

"Argh, (Y/n) what the-?"

The figure kneeling down beside him was easily recognisable, having not aged in the years that had passed without her but the concerned expression she wore was contagious.

"No time to explain, magic spiritual existence or whatever but please get up. Here's your staff." You pulled him to his feet, albeit Tim remained dazed with these developments and stumbled against your figure with a groan. His staff was pushed into his chest and it was only now - dream or not - he spoke his true feelings.

"I missed you, so much..."

“I know...” The sincerity in his voice only made you feel guilty, the accident wasn’t your fault but you still left him and that was a weight you’d carried since you’d died.

Tim was slowly adjusting, finding what seemed to be a brief flash of wings behind you but that must’ve been from hitting his head so hard considering he now stood on the opposing rooftop to previously. Recalling the last moments his hand shot to his throat, more than shocked when his fingers remained absent of blood and his breathing was perfectly normal ignoring the quickness of it, next he looked back to where he was standing beforehand only to find bodies of assassins littering the roof and battles continuing over the street.

“Am I dead?”

“What? No. I’m dead, you’re alive.” You quickly corrected with furrowed brows and a sigh, flicking his forehead as he pushed your hand away in retaliation.

Although he paused, the familiarity of sibling like antics hitting him with an unwanted wave of nostalgia and he looked at you again - really looked. Saw past the golden glow, saw past the perfect skin and any evidence of scathes or aging. It was you but ethereal, you weren’t alive, you weren’t staying and you definitely weren’t coming back to life. That was what made him embrace you, arms wrapping around your torso so tightly that if alive then breathing would be a problem but you didn’t care, his face buried in your hair whilst you held back emotional whimpers. For however long you had been gifted, you’d say goodbye properly this time.

“I’m sorry for breaking my promise, so sorry, please please forgive me Tim -“

“Yo-you didn’t break it idiot.” It was such a soft whisper, an attempt to comfort you even if he didn’t understand your reasoning for profuse apologies.

“I didn’t come home, I left you alone and that’s the worst thing I could’ve done as your sister!” You defended, justifying your beliefs and pulling away from Tim who offered a soft smile amidst his watery eyes.

“You promised that no matter how far apart we are, you’d always look out for me and you have. (Y/n) you saved my life just now - how many people have the willpower to come back from the grave to do that? But you did that for me, you kept your promise.” Tim assured, wiping your tears away before hugging you once more.

“I’m proud of you y’know, kicking names and taking ass.” You weakly laughed, parting to punch his shoulder once regaining your composure.

“So you keep up with the times in the afterlife huh?”

“It gets boring up there okay? Speaking of, you should get back to fighting beside your family - who I love by the way.” You happily informed, gesturing over time the members of the Batfamily fighting various battles with a sad knowing smile.

Tim noticed the sorrow in your irises, the way you turned back to him like it was the last time you’d be with each other and it probably was but he simply sighed and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“You’re still my favourite sibling and as such I guess I should take your advice.” Tim softly commented and with an understanding nod a bright light engulfed his form once more.

This time he’d landed in the most heated area of the fight, landing executed perfectly with an immense rupture of light knocking out every enemy on impact. Tim stood, his family turning to him awestruck at the amount of unfathomable controlled power that originated from his form and how exactly he’d seemingly beamed over out of thin air.

“Later Timbers, and by the way I think you should stop crushing on Steph and ask her out already.” Your voice remained, albeit fleeting, as was your figure standing beside him overlooking your handiwork.

“Wha- you can’t know all of my business zombie!” He went to knock your upper arm, fingers phasing straight through your body and you both mirrored sympathetic expressions, a knowing and meaningful exchange enough to say what words couldn’t.

“I’m so happy for you Tim, stay alive okay?” And with that your figure faded into blissful golden stardust that spiralled into wind up toward the matte sky until they’d disappeared from Tim’s line of sight.

“Goodbye (Y/n)...”

——

“What was that out there Tim? A new gadget?” Bruce questioned his former partner once they returned to the Batcave whilst Tim got out his phone with an absentminded smile.

“My sister.”

“You have a sister, why didn’t you ever mention it?” Dick now inquired, walking in step beside him.

“Because you’d want to meet her and that’s, that’s impossible but her name was (Y/n). Here, this was us a few years ago.” Tim answered honestly, the implications easily read by his family who remained respectfully quiet until Tim handed Dick his phone which displayed a picture of the two of you. The others gathering around out of curiosity.

“Damn she’s hot.” Jason casually commented, reviving a facepalm from Cass and chiding from an irritated Damian.

“Todd, that’s completely irrelevent!”

“She has standards Jay sorry, but, she really likes you guys.” Tim smugly replied, his last words laced with underlying gratitude whilst Jason received over dramatic ‘ooohs’ from the rest of the family after that smart burn. Although Tim saw the contentment on each of them, that despite not knowing you, they had your blessing as his new family which was a very sacred thing in their opinion.

Once he’d regained his own space, he began typing a message he never thought he’d write until after your encounter.

Tim: [Hey Steph, I’ve been told I need to act on things so I was wondering if you wanted to go out this weekend? Not in costume, just as you and I.]

Stephanie: [About time Tim, who do I have to thank for your sudden confidence haha?]

Tim gave a relieved smile at the positive reply, looking up to the sky before asking with a proud yet considerate tone.

“You happy now?”

He would’ve said the sun broke through the cloudy sky of Gotham for a few seconds, golden rays bathing the Manor grounds and his skin - but that was probably unrelated coincidence...

#tim drake imagine #tim drake #tim drake x reader #dc #dc imagine #red robin #red robin imagine #red robin x reader

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daemons-not-rogues · 5 years

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@toastedside asked in a gc for rec's of where to start w/ Batman comics and it turns out I have a lot of Opinions™️ about this so I thought I'd make a longer post :)

Basically, it boils down to:

Start with what you want to read!

Admittedly, that's not very helpful if you don't know where in the comics to find the bit you want to read, so we'll work from there! I've listed below what I think can be good entry points to the Batman (& the Batman Family of comics) based on what you might be looking for. [Keeping in mind that this list leans heavily away from DC's Rebirth/New 52... maybe someone who likes the newer stuff enough to keep up with them can help me out there??]

[Note: links go to the full comics on https://readconiconline.to - BUT! I *highly* recommend using an ad-blocker with this site! Some of the ads make me really uncomfy. You have been warned!]

Also, the ⭐s aren't important other than that they represent some of my personal faves :)

1. Looking for slightly-silly, lighthearted classic tales (from long before you were born)?? Try:

Batman: the Classic Casebook (includes The Rainbow Batman⭐ and Batman Meets Bat-Mite)

2. How about stories featuring Batman's two original partners? Check out:

Batgirl/Robin: Year One for an updated (circa 2013) take on Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon's origin stories.

Or, if you've ever heard a reference to Babs' time in Congress and want to know more, try The Batman Family (1975) (Note: this is most definitely part of pre-crisis continuity and has little relation to the rest of the stories on this list, but it's a fun read ☺️)

3. Already know who your favorite Robin is? Are you sure about that? See:

For Dick Grayson, the OG™️ Boy Wonder:

Robin: Year One (above)

A throwback, but Batman & Superman's first Golden-age team up in World's Finest Comics #71 kicks off the "two dads and their son just having a good time" era

Not a Batman comic exactly, but New Teen Titans (1980) #1-8+ has the (pre-flashpoint/infinite crisis) origins of probably the most recognizable cast of the Teen Titans team (& features Dick striking out on his own)

Personally, I have... never really cared for all the retconning in 2005's Nightwing: Year One, so I'd recommend starting with either:

Nightwing (1995), the 4-issue limited run featuring #discowing ⭐ (honestly, the * isn't even for the story. The art is insane absolute gold. Dick's flowing locks. Alfred's green pinstriped suit. The artist's obvious thirst way they draw Dick & esp. when he's stripping off the suit. I just... can't even with this series. It never fails to make me giggle)

Or Nightwing (1996) #1 if finger-stripes are more your style (welcome to the Haven, Dick 😉)

For Jason Todd:

Batman (1940) #408 ⭐ (stealing the tires from the Batmobile will never not be a classic),

Batman (1940) #366-368 ⭐ (pre-crisis, but you will have to pry this version of Dick passing the mantle from my cold, dead hands),

Superman (1937) Annual #11: For the Man Who Has Everything (A throw-back: it's Clark's birthday at the fortress of solitude, and Robin saves the day!)

Legends of the Dark Knight: Norm Breyfogle (TPB, collected 🦇 comics mostly from the 80s, many of which feature Jason as Robin)

For Tim Drake:

Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (1990) (collected from Batman/Teen Titans, Tim's first appearances after Jason's death),

Robin (1991) (Tim abroad, featuring Shiva and King Snake),

And Robin II (1992) ⭐ (Batman's out of town, but don't worry - Tim and Alfred have got this covered 😆)

For Stephanie Brown:

Honestly, you for Steph you *have* to start with Spoiler's introduction/origins. See: Detective Comics (1937) #647-649 ⭐, and

Showcase '95 #5 ⭐ (for the Spoiler stand-alone story)

From then on, she shows up every few issues in Robin (1993)

For Damian Wayne:

honestly, I... probably wouldn't recommend starting here? Maybe I'm too biased towards the 90s, but I just think you miss out on a ~lot~ of Batfam history if you do

If you're sure though, his first appearance is in Batman (1940) #655 circa 2006

4. Does Oracle's all-around badassery make you swoon? SAME

It's not her earliest appearance (that's in the 80s run of Suicde Squad, believe it or not), but for her origin story, see 'Oracle: Year One', in The Batman Chronicles (1995) #5 ⭐

Birds of Prey is iconique Oracle!Babs. See Black Canary/Oracle: Birds of Prey for the start of their adventures (and if you fall in love like I did, there's a good reading order by ComicBookHerald here, since there are a half-dozen differently-titled one-offs and mini series before the start of the BoP serial in 1999)

5. Love you some Cassandra Cain?? Me too!!

Her first appearance is in Batman (1940) #567 - BUT, it's the middle of the NML run, which is sooo good I recommend the whole thing. Depending on how much you want to bite off, I'd even recomend starting as far back as Batman: Contagion, because it's really really good.

Below I've listed the progression of major arcs in that era (most bridge the entire Batman Family of comics, from Detective Comics, Shadow of the Bat, Robin, and Nightwing, to Azreal, Catwoman, etc.). Any of these could be a good place to pick up the comics!

Batman: Prodigal (after B broke his back in the Knightfall arc, Dick Grayson temporarily takes the cape. Great for Dick & Tim brotherly bonding, plus flashbacks where Dick retells his origins)

Batman: Contagion & Batman: Legacy ⭐ (Ra's Al Ghul tries to take Gotham out with a plague)

Batman: Cataclysm & Batman: Aftershock/Road to No Man's Land

Batman: No Man's Land ⭐⭐ (Cass!!! The whole Batfam!! Oracle and the GCPD!! Huntress!!! Plus the A++ characterization of the rogues *cough*Ivy*cough*Two-Face*)

What do you think? Do you have different recommendations?

#long post #batfam #comics #intro to batfam comics #oracle #robin #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #nightwing #batgirl #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #comic recs #barbara gordon #90s comics

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hero-imagines · 5 years

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back to december | jason todd

summary: in which you reflect on all the highs and lows of your relationship with jason todd.

genre: angst

word count: 4.06k

a/n: i swear i’m still alive, i’ve just been drowning in school work and sat prep, sorry !! i poured my heart and soul into this so i hope you guys enjoy <3 oh ! this is based on the song back to december by taylor swift, if you didn’t already know.

I’m so glad you made time to see me

How’s life, tell me how’s your family?

I haven’t seen them in a while.

For as long as anyone could remember, it has always been [Y/N] [L/N] and Jason Todd—soon enough Batgirl and Robin morphing into Red Hood and [S/N]. The two of you were practically joined at the hip, and it was only a matter of time before something inside the both of you snapped, the closeness and feelings that the two of shared soon overflowing into something more. There was no denying the bond that you both shared, it was something that could not be faked, something that only could have progressed over years of close friendship with each other. The two of you have been through everything together, the highs and lows of your relationship seemingly to only draw the two of you closer (if that was even humanly possible).

It was only a matter of time before you became a couple, for years the idea has been on both of your minds—lingering, awaiting the right moment in order to make its presence known. The love the two of you shared was sort of like a tug-of-war, both of you practically pulling each other in opposite directions, wanting to confess these overwhelming feelings, but too fearful to actual say those words aloud. And even with the amount of meddling from the Outlaws, especially Roy to attempting to bring the two of you together, the two of you remained clueless.

Yet, it seemed that fate was on your side.

You could remember vividly the day that happened, walking into your shared apartment with Jason after a long and difficult mission, the door harshly slamming shut behind you as he followed you into the living room. He was livid, to say the least, throwing his guns and other miscellaneous weapons down on your coffee table, some of the clattering onto the wooden floor below. This behavior of his was nothing new for him, every time a mission or even something didn’t go his way he became aggravated, consumed with blinding rage that it often clouds his better judgement and causing him to make decisions that he often regrets. Of course you knew why he was practically steaming, you could read Jason Todd as if he was an open book, but you chose to ignore this fact and instead focus on unpacking all of your equipment from the failed mission.

He wanted your attention and that was evident from the amount of banging and stomping that he was doing around the apartment, slamming closet doors, kitchen cabinets, and haphazardly tossing his guns into the back of his closet. You could only roll your eyes at his childish antics as another loud bang could be heard from inside his room, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose as you counted down.

Three, two, one—

“How the fuck could you be so reckless like that?”

Jason’s voice boomed, echoing through the relatively small room, as slammed his bedroom door open and he strided into your shared living room. You ignored him, You ignored him. Instead focusing on taking off your bloody clothes and hissing a bit as the fabric caught a bit between the grooves of the wounds. It was nothing really major or anything and you surely weren’t dying, yet Jason was a bit of a drama queen and was making a scene out of nothing. He was fine, you were fine, and in the end the two of you accomplished the mission without killing any civilians and gained the intel from the villains—in your opinion the mission was surely a success. But of course, he disagreed with you.

“You know you could have been killed? If I didn’t push you out of the way, you would be there on the warehouse floor bleeding out,” his voice was low and his mouth in a thin line.

He didn’t know how to let things go, and he was surely stubborn as you could feel his green eyes piercing into your back. With a soft sigh and throwing the last weapon onto the table, you turned around to face him, your eyes narrowed and lips in a frown.

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say—”

“An apology would be nice for starters, and acknowledging that what you did was wrong.”

“—but, this is our job, we put our lives in danger so civilians don’t have to. I’m not going to apologize when I didn’t do anything wrong,” you finished, feeling the anger bubbled inside of you. And if it was even possible, it looked as if his discontent with you only seemed to deepen as soon as you said that. Jason walked forward till he was standing only a inches away from you, his gaze lingering on your bandaged left side, causing you to turn away slightly so that it was blocked from his view.

“Sure it’s our job, but that doesn’t mean you ignore me when I tell you that you should wait for me before running recklessly into a fight—” he began before you cut him off.

“You’re forgetting the point here, I’m literally fine, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“—well, next time, you could be dead and then what? How am I supposed to explain to Roy, Kori and the others why you decided to be fucking stupid enough to—”

“There won’t be a next time, trust me, either that or you won’t know it. I’m fine and I’ll be fine, I really don’t know why you’re fretting over this, I’ve been in worse situations and come out fine so—” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as he cut you off mid-sentence.

“Maybe it’s because I’m in love with you!”

And just like that, the two of you crashed into each other, your body fitting perfectly in his arms. Everything moving forward from there was as if you were in some kind of high, every waking moment with Jason was pure bliss. Together the two of you were like in your own world, everything seemed to revolve around each other, but you should have realized that after high comes the a crash. And boy, did you both fall hard.

You've been good, busier than ever

We small talk, work and the weather

Your guard is up and I know why

Because the last time you saw me

Is still burned in the back of your mind

You gave me roses and I left them there to die.

Flowers were perhaps your favorite gift to receive from Jason. There was something whimsical about them, a quality that you struggled to formulate the words to describe. He knew how much you adored flowers and practically made it his mission to supply you with all of the flowers in the world, they soon became scattered across your apartment, turning it into some sort of garden.

Yet, the beauty of flowers does not last forever, and in a matter of weeks decaying flowers littered your apartment. You knew that you should throw them away, the sight of rotting flowers quite depressing, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to move them. As irrational as it sounded, there were memories tied to every single stalk of every single flower in the room, small things that just reminded you of him—the time when he gave you those sunflowers “just because” or the those daisies because you were disappointed that after walking past the animal shelter for the fifth time that week, he still had to tell you that you both could not adopt a puppy.

Dozens of times he had joked with you to discard the flowers, and that he’ll buy you new ones to replace them, but you always refused. In more ways that one, those wilted flowers held a special place in your heart along with the memories associated with them. Eventually, they did end up in the trash can, and while the two of you joked about it for a while, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness watching Jason take the trash (and the flowers) out the next morning—almost as if the memories were leaving with him.

So this is me swallowing my pride

Standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night

And I go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you

Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I'd go back to December, turn around and make it all right

I go back to December all the time.

December used to be your favorite month for an abundance of reasons, the way snow blanketed the entire city, enjoying hot cocoa with little marshmellows floating inside your mug, or curling up by the fireplace with Jason snuggled in your lap; however, the main one was the fact that it was Christmas. Of course you enjoyed gifts as much as the next person, but it was the family time that you enjoyed the most. The Wayne Manor was always bustling with activity, especially around the holidays where things became extra hectic, but you always thought it felt like home. With Damian angrily chasing Dick around the halls, Tim and Steph shouting at the TV as they try to beat each other in Mario Kart, Cassie eagerly watching from behind them and calling to be in the next game, Alfred was busy inside the kitchen as Bruce simply watched from the bottom of the staircase while sipping his coffee. And Jason, he was too busy trying to persuade you to go under the mistletoe with him.

No matter how dysfunctional this family was, they always made you feel like home.

You could always remember how happy Jason always looked on Christmas, a while he was not the greatest at expressing his emotions or even letting himself be happy, that was perhaps the one time of the year that he let himself indulge. The joy that radiated off him was contagious, and you could always feel your heart swell with pride at the sight of him laughing and letting himself go for once, his smile making you feel all warm inside.

As the previous year ends and a new one begins you always make a silent vow to yourself every single year. You promised yourself that you would see more of this side of Jason, that you will protect him until the end of time so that he could stay this happy and blissful. And your thoughts always drifted to the future, promising yourself that you would both be a little less reckless this year, so that you would both get to bask in this moment again next year. And every year you made this silent prayer, before flashing him a smile and joining Jason and the rest of the family by the dining room table.

These days I haven't been sleeping

Staying up playing back myself leaving

When your birthday passed and I didn't call

And I think about summer, all the beautiful times

I watched you laughing from the passenger side

And realized I'd loved you in the fall

And then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept into my mind

You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye.

You weren’t sure what triggered it, perhaps it was the fleeting summer air—the youthfulness and joy being swallowed up by the impending change of fall or the gloom of the upcoming winter. But, whatever it was, you knew that something had changed between the two of you. Somehow the nights became longer and you were left pondering—overthinking every interaction that happened between the two of you. There was no denying the fact that you loved him dearly and you knew from the bottom of your heart that he loved you too, but between the two of you something was definitely not the same.

There were times where you couldn’t take it anymore, but you were hopeless to stop its progression. As close as the two of you were, you both respected each other and even then, there were still things that you kept from each other. And this only further nourished the seeds of insecurity growing inside your head. How were you supposed to talk with him about this, when he practically left every morning before you woke up and went to bed long after you fell asleep. From the outside it looked like Jason Todd had practically everything that he could ever want, he was incredibly handsome, wealthy, and practically set for life—and he had practically everything going for him. And in those aspects, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to him—someone who came from a modest family and honestly just had the luck of being in the right place at the right time.

You liked to believe it was all luck that you happened to end up in those situations, that in this lifetime you happened to be extremely fortunate and everything just ended up working out for you in the end. There was no skill involved, instead there was something in your timing perhaps—nothing but pure luck driving your circumstances in life. But of course, luck could only get you so far.

He was practically a ghost, a shell of the man that you once knew, and you absolutely despised it. Every waking day and night you wanted to scream at him—beg him to let you in and let you work out these problems together. But he was Jason Todd, stubborn as a mule, no matter how much you could plead with him he would never waver.

And that’s what you both loved and despised about him, that every goddamn time he had to be the hero, no matter the cost.

So this is me swallowing my pride

Standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night

And I go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you

Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I'd go back to December turn around and change my own mind

I go back to December all the time.

“We need to talk about this,” you sighed, rubbing your temples as you closed the front door behind him. As usual, there was no response from him, instead he turned away from you and stormed into his room. You honestly did not have time to deal with his crap anymore, you were tired—tired of this tension and animosity between the two of you that you wanted it to all be over. For weeks you both had been dancing around the subject, ignoring rising tensions in favor that somehow things would return to normal.

But deep down, you knew that things would never be the same.

Standing up from the couch, you followed him into your shared bedroom, knocking slightly on the door when you noticed that it was closed. There was no answer, but as you turned the doorknob, you realized that the door was unlocked, and you entered. You found him standing by the window which was slightly open, the chilly night draft flowing inside. In his hands he was fiddling with an almost empty cigarette packet and a lighter, as he looked out the window. Jason had quit his smoking habit years ago, he knew that you absolutely despised the smell and despised how terrible it was for his health. Yet, the packet brought him some kind of comfort as he fiddled it around his fingers, but he was playing with fire—dangerously close to burning himself and falling back into his old habits.

He already knew what you were going to say, that same look has been written across your face for weeks, and while he knew that this confrontation was inevitable, he couldn’t help but subconsciously avoid you and your pleading [E/C] eyes. Even though he knew that things were changing, deep down he knew that there was nothing that could ever change his feelings for you.

“Jason, please,” you sighed, sitting down on your bed with your shoulders slumped. You were defeated and he could see it. He knew how heavily this was weighing on you and just for a second he wanted to be selfish, he wanted you by his side no matter the consequences—for a second he wanted to imagine that the two of you weren’t broken.

“What if I don't want to talk about it,” he muttered, twirling the lighter between his fingers and refusing to look you in the eyes.

His confession caused your heart to melt, as you turned away feeling the tears pricking at your eyes. This was pure torture, and if you could keep living like this maybe you would do it for him—and you were always a sucker when it came to him. But this time it was different, this time he couldn't persuade you no matter how much he tried, your mind had already been made up.

“You know we can't keep on living like this—if you would even call this living. We're no longer the same people and that's natural, it's natural to have change.”

“It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of that, more than me,” he chuckled dryly, finally looking up as his eyes met your own.

Isn't this what you would have expected, he's fighting—always fighting—never once allowing himself a break. He's too stubborn to let go and even though he's on a sinking ship, he's attempting to make sure that you stay afloat, even if that means he'll drown with it. Stupid! He was too stubborn for his own good, and for once you just wanted him to listen to you.

“Stop, just stop,” you turned around, running a hand through your hair. Looking at him would be the death of you, and your resolve would crumble in a matter of seconds. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Moving from his position by the window, Jason pocketed the loose cigarette and the lighter before making his way closer to you. You could feel his arms make their way around your waist, and for the last time you wanted to enjoy the feeling of him holding you as you felt safe and comforted. His chin rested on your shoulder, as he whispered hesitantly a single question.

“Did you ever love me?”

Just like that the dam broke, and tears streamed freely down your cheeks. Thank god he couldn’t see you because you absolutely hated when he saw you cry—you wanted to be strong especially for him, and at this time, tears were the last thing that you need. Taking a shaky breath, you composed yourself before answering him.

“Oh baby, I would have given you the whole universe if I could.”

I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right

And how you held me in your arms that September night

The first time you ever saw me cry

Maybe this is wishful thinking

Probably mindless dreaming

But if we loved again I swear I'd love you right

I'd go back in time and change it but I can't

So if the chain is on your door, I understand.

There was something about the way he was standing in your doorway, looking at you with piercing green eyes. The two of you have been separated for a couple of weeks now, and even then just looking at him made the pit of your stomach swell with butterflies. You did your best to get over him, but everything just reminded you of him. You were practically surrounded by him, the memories of the apartment that you once shared together drowning you with the idea of him. Being the gentleman he always was, he had offered to move out after the breakup, but that didn’t make the pain of it all any easier. Jason had done his best to get rid of most of his belongings from the apartment, but he was forgetful sometimes, and once in while you would find some of his belongings—a rush of emotions overcoming you as memories of him replayed in your head.

His presence at your door was like a breath of fresh air that flooded into your lungs as you looked at him. He hasn't changed much in the past few weeks, only slight details that you wouldn't have noticed if you were not standing so close to him. The bags under his eyes had gotten darker, his face a little more scruffier and his hair a little more disheveled than usual—but damn, he still looked as breathtaking as he did on the first day that you met him.

“What are you doing here?” your tone was soft, the question coming out quieter than you intended.

“I just wanted to see you,” his confession came out like a hushed whisper, and any quieter you would have missed what he said. This caught you off guard, your cheeks immediately becoming flushed at his words. A part of you, however, grew defensive at his comment. The two of you were no longer lovers and no longer friends, he had no right to be saying things like that—playing with your heart like that when the two of you have long been broken up.

However, before you could protest, he closed the already short distance between the two of you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist and burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. The smell of him of him hit you suddenly like a freight train, everything in that moment felt right, this was home—he was your home.

“You're going away on a mission again, aren't you?” you asked, noticing the material underneath your fingertips and the multitude of guns that you felt pressing into your side. He didn't answer you, but the way he squeezed you just a little tighter gave you the conformation that you needed. “Promise me you'll be safe.”

Your demand was met with silence once again, but this time you needed an answer—you needed him to promise that he was going to return home safely. Even though it was hard, you teared yourself out of his grip and looked him straight in the eyes, attempting to convince him to tell you the truth.

Leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he uttered his answer to you.

“I promise you.”

But this is me swallowing my pride

Standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night

And I go back to December

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you

Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I'd go back to December turn around and make it all right.

And you stood there, looking down at gravestone in front of you, his name printed in bold letters in front of you, did you know that he lied to you. Rain pelted down on you, soaking your clothes as you struggled to differentiate between rain droplets and tears running down your cheeks. You should be furious at him, breaking his promise and ending up even worse than what you could ever imagined—dead. Of course, you always knew that this could be a possibility, your line of work was dangerous and it wasn’t uncommon for things to go south pretty fast.

But the two of you have always beaten the odds, and you hoped that this time would be no different. Yet, it seemed that both of your luck has finally run out.

If you knew that he was doing this alone—god, if you knew that this would have happened to him you wouldn’t have let him go alone. Of course he wouldn’t tell you, that stubborn asshole, always having to play the hero and now look at him, he’s paying the ultimate price.

Kneeling down you gingerly touched the gravestone, tracing his name with your finger, sniffling a bit as you felt the cold stone underneath your fingertips. And taking a deep breath you closed your eyes and let the tears fall—and for the first time, he wasn’t there to comfort you.

I'd go back to December turn around and change my own mind

I go back to December all the time.

#jason todd #jason todd imagines #batboys imagines #dc imagines #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood imagines #red hood #my writing

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whumpbby · 6 years

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ok you know how Ivy can make those plant people that are basically indistinguishable from real people? Ivy notices that Robin is gone and Bruce is being a real tit and he clearly has a thing for black haired blue eyed boys and so creates Jason Todd. they have regular run ins as Robin v Ivy so she can top him up when needed. and burying? him in the ground? where saplings belong? u fools. bonus angst Jay thought he was a real boy. cue Pinocchio quest to magic users as they try to make him human

Aw man, you broke my heartTT All I can think of now is Jason never finding a way!

Either Ivy made him and sent him to Batman to be an infiltrator or someone else used her tech to do that, but very soon it turned out that Jay isn't willing to play the role. OR he was created by Ivy, but somehow got free and wandered Gotham, happened upon a child dying in an alley and, well, ate it, merged with it, getting all of its memories. Then he was found by Batman.

Alfred was the one person who knew Jason was a little plant boy as soon as he did his first serious physical. But he never told Bruce, never included that information in the Batcomputer, because this child firmly believed it’s real and Alfred wasn’t about to take it from him. Because Ivy’s usual creations had an expiry date, he lived expecting Jason to one day start dying off. It didn’t happen and Alfred was happy.

And then Jason died for real and was buried.

Except burying a dead plant carried a chance of a new one growing out if it. Jason didn't dig his way out of the grave, he grew out of it and went wandering, and then was found by Talia and things happened there. And she was the one to tell Jason that he’s not real - that he was never real and that Bruce had to know. Jason was so angry, so betrayed and angry and Bruce didn’t know that it isn’t only about Joker and Jay’s death. And by the time he knows, Jason is already estranged and alienated...

Then, say, years in, they have this uneasy truce, and they fight some maniac on the streets and, unfortunately, Jason gets trapped underneath a crumbling building and dies... again... the family is crushed, Jay’s body is lifeless and broken, and what to do now. Except this time Alfred isn’t fine with just agreeing to it. He goes to visit Ivy - him, in person, talks to the villainess and reveals to her what happened and what his family is going through. And Ivy isn’t a monster, she has a heart.

“Bury him in clean moist soil,” she tells Alfred. “Where the plants grow unhindered. And wait. The only thing you can do is wait.”

Alfred does. He buries the body on the grounds of the Manor, in the patch of the wild garden with some old lilacs and an oak tree. He visits daily and at the beginning, it’s just him, he comes and prunes the weeds, has to stop himself from trying to bring some order to the patch of land. Soon, however, the rest of the children starts visiting. Dick site under the tree once a week, for an hour or so, talking to Jason about the happenings in and around the family, trying to keep him in the loop. Tim shows up once or twice a month, to read a passage or two from Jay’s favourite books. Steph sneaks in often with a cup of natural fertilizer and joking that someone has to feed the growing baby. Damian, since he lives in the mansion full-time, visits almost every day for a moment or two, telling Todd he expects him to grow faster and stop stalling... Bruce can be sometimes spotted near the great tree, when he’s not careful to be stealthy, to whisper some things to the mound of earth.

It happens on the last day of the summer, Alfred does his usual morning rounds and sees the dirt on the mound had shifted - and there are some green tendrils sticking out of it... they seem to be moving... and then he sees the tips of small fingers. But he doesn’t do what he feels he needs to do, because Ivy had told him to wait, and you can’t rush nature. Instead, he hangs back and goes back to the Manor to alarm Master Bruce what’s happening, gather some blankets and a warm drink for the boy when he finally comes out.

Bruce and Alfred go back to the garden and set out to wait as the little hands try to dig their way out of the soil - and they're small, smaller than Jason’s were, pale and soft-looking. B has to be held back from jumping in to help - he had lived for so long with the horrifying idea of his son digging his way out of the grave the first time, but... this time it doesn’t seem like that, this doesn't seem rushed and panicked, the little hands are steady and patient, and methodical. B has to stand back and let it happen.

By the time the head of black curls pushes its way through the dirt, Bruce is there on his knees, eyeing the... kid of about 8 staring back at him with wide, green eyes, covered in dirt and dead vines and tearing up. When the kid reaches out for him, Bruce is there, embracing him and pulling him close, gently disentangling the boy’s legs some the vines and pulling him out, whispering to him that he’s there, here for you Jay, shh, shh, I got you. Doesn’t even matter that his nice house robe is now covered in dirt, his son is there, living and breathing, alive. Alfred is there with a blanket to swaddle baby Jason in and they make their way home. Surprisingly, they have a couple hours Robin-free to wash and dress the kid, and feed him a bit, and not for even a moment B would let him go.

In the evening Dick and Tim arrive at the Manor, Damian comes back from school and they get to see their newest baby brother.

“Hey, baby carrot,” Dick is just enchanted with the little tyke, the kid doesn't say much, but his eyes are just so big and shiny. “Good to have you back.”

“Isn’t he more of a potato?” Tim suggested. “New potatoes grow from an old one.”

Dick gasps! “Oh my god!” He cuddles Jason to his chest. “He’s a small fry!”

“T-t, Richard, you’re humiliating yourself in the face of a child.”

Damian’s opinion of Jason changed in the strangest way when it came to picture that he’s a plant now - somehow, that endeared him to the demon child. Vegetarians, man, who understands them?

Jason grows fast - like a, well, weed - and two years in he’s almost back to his previous height and brawn - he has the memories of his previous lives, but this is a new one and it’s a better one:)

#headcanon #daemoninwhiteround2

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