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megaerakles · 8 days

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Duke Thomas Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Stuck-On Sunshine by zodarii_dae - Rated G

The Signal tends to interact with kids a bit more than his nocturnal coworkers. Even in Gotham, there are more kids out at two pm than two am. Those kids want to show their appreciation for the hero keeping them safe. What better way to show that than with stickers?

A Special Expection? No, A Son by Raccoonwriter - Rated T

Duke was excited to meet the Justice League until they start to ask and talk about things Duke didn't want to here.

breathing down your neck by Batbirdies - Rated G

Duke gets sick on Friday. Joker breaks out of Arkham on Saturday. It’s radio silence, until it’s not. — When Duke is benched with the flu the Joker attacks a small Gotham neighborhood with Joker venom. Duke knows he’s not well enough to help, but with stinging memories of his parents still trapped in their own heads—he has to do something. Bruce has a few things to say about that.

Frightening, But Not Afraid by snackbaskets - Rated G

When the family is hit by a new strain of fear toxin, safety is in numbers. Unfortunately, three members of the flock are still out there, afraid and alone. Bruce may not be the best at comforting his children, but apparently, he can let his wings do the talking. ((aka, the classic fear toxin hurt/comfort but with a splash of the classic wings-make-u-feel-safe hurt/comfort))

birds and brothers and other assorted synonyms by hoebiwan - Rated T

Duke isn’t an idiot. He knows it’s a bad idea to go into the underground tunnels of Gotham where people disappear for years on end and occasionally (if they’re lucky) stumble out coated in cobwebs and madness and blood. So he takes a flashlight and a water bottle and a bag of trail mix and lots and lots of beef jerky whenever he goes. If he ends up trapped down there, wandering in hopeless circles (which Duke thinks is important to note having never happened), at least he’ll have food. Also, the weird little kid dressed up like a miniature Talon likes the M&M’s in Duke’s trail mix.

the scientific method by orphan_account - Rated G

5 stupid ways Duke's siblings discovered how his powers worked, and 1 time he figured it out for himself.

"You have no idea," Dick said. "I had to live through all of their teenage years. They were each independently obsessed with Mythbusters at separate points in their life. I'm pretty sure Cass and Tim have wanted a meta to experiment on since they were 14, but Bruce always said no."

Duke Thomas Hates Bullies by Gemini_00 - Not Rated

Everyone loves that Duke Thomas isn't like all those other crazy Waynes. Everyone loves that the Signal isn't trying to get himself killed. Duke may not see Bruce as his dad, but he is definitely part of the bat family. and nobody is going to bully his family. Or, Duke Thomas Kicks Ass.

Keep Your Head, Your Backbone, and Your Heart by MrMich - Rated T

The last thing that Duke expected on what was supposed to be just a regular patrol was being suddenly thrown five years into the past, coming face to face with a darker, more violent Batman than the one he knew, a broken family, and a Tim who was a foot shorter than Duke, and not even Robin yet.

A silent shadow flitted past him, just barely visible on the cave walls. He went rigid, tracking the shadow in the corner of his vision. And then he dropped to the floor, just in time, as a familiar black gloved fist passed overhead. He just barely missed being hit by the punishing blow that would have landed right on his temple for a sure concussion if he hadn’t dodged. “Batman?” Duke yelled. He somersaulted forward, just barely avoiding another strike. “B, what are you doing?!” “Who are you,” came the growled response. A shiver crawled down Duke’s spine at the grim hostility in Batman’s voice that promised violence, and something tightened in the back of his throat.

WHEN EARTH FINDS STARS. by orpheusaki - Rated G

"Let it be known that I completely detest the implications of what this situation is mirroring," Red Hood grumbles to himself and it's the longest string of words Duke has heard from any so-called Gotham vigilante, let alone the one who's known for shooting more than he is talking. "The fuck?" Duke mutters, because if he's already going to die, he might as well try and make sense of it. "I'm not going to care about whatever sob story you have," is what Red Hood replies with instead of explaining, "Where are your parents?" "Gone," is all Duke says, because it's really none of this guy's business. It's also the truth. Somehow, Red Hood sounds even more anguished about this information than Duke is, "Ah shit." (Duke steals the tires off Red Hood's bike and somehow gains a family.)

Leadership by PepperSoniRoni - Rated G

Nightwing offers Signal a chance to lead a small group for a mission. Duke is wary, but accepts the challenge. He proves to be a rather great leader.

Takes place after Season Two of Young Justice, and ignores Season Three (I still haven’t seen it, unfortunately).

You Would Not Believe Your Eyes by Tiptapricot - Rated G

No metas are allowed in Gotham, so what does that mean for Duke?

Dayshift Shadow Work by IzzyMRDB - Rated G

So, when he realised one day once he looked down that he was missing his shadow, the first thing he checked was to make sure he wasn’t also glowing. Can’t have a shadow if you’re the light source after all. Nope, not glowing. Weird. AKA Duke's shadow works like Peter Pan's and immediately chooses violence

Runs in the Family by motleyfam - Rated G

Duke has a migraine and just wants a bit of peace. Tim understands this better than most.

The League of Assassins: An Indepth Exploration of the World's Most Prolific Group of Assassins by Hint_of_Elation - Rated T

Duke Thomas presents a documentary about the League of Assassins. Warning: Bruce Wayne did not approve this film.

Tequila by Sohotthateveryonedied - Rated T

Bruce steps into Duke’s path, blocking him from venturing further into the house. It takes a moment for Duke to register the new obstacle before him. His mouth drags into a lopsided grin. “Bruce! Wha’s—wassup? How’s your night goin’?” “You’re drunk," Bruce accuses. “Me? No way. No way. I would never do that.” Duke hiccups. “Totally sober.”

Who, Me? by Listentothelittlebird - Rated T

People thought Duke was the responsible one. People often forgot Duke ran with a gang. A gang named after Robin, sure, but a gang nonetheless.

bathtub cookie crumbs by ghostellie - Rated G

Duke finds him in a bathtub on the third floor. It’s an old fashioned thing, a clawfoot porcelain tub settled in an otherwise empty room in a far, abandoned corner of the manor, dusty despite Alfred’s best efforts. Tim’s seated at an awkward angle, sideways in the tub with his head rested on one edge and his knees slung over the other, fully clothed and half covered in dust. A pink box of sugar cookies, no doubt stolen from Jason’s stash, rests on his chest. He meets Duke’s eyes as he enters, shoveling a bat-shaped cookie in his mouth.

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype by PepperSoniRoni - Rated T

5 Times Duke Tried To Prove To Bruce He Wasn't The Responsible One, and 1 Time His Siblings Knew Better (& used it to their advantage) Because Duke is relatively new, he hasn't opened up completely to the family. He tries to follow Bruce and Alfred's rules, but he doesn't always succeed (nor try to). It's during these times Bruce still manages to pin the blame on someone else. His siblings, of course, see this. And whatever are they supposed to think? Well, Duke's clearly doing it on purpose! (This is really just me being salty about fanon characterization, and an attempt to cram as much Crazy-Totally-Not-Sane-Duke as I can into a single fic)

that which you cannot bear by britishparty - Rated T

There is no backup for the Signal. Duke reminds himself of this regularly, like a prayer through gritted teeth: there's no one to catch him if he slips, to replace him if he stops. So the Signal can't give up. Just can't, like an immutable law, an undeniable truth. He has to win every fight. There isn't any other option. Duke Thomas makes himself invincible. Untouchable. Then he loses.

#oooooh #tbr

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megaerakles · 13 days

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To Whom It May Concern

Tim couldn’t stay.

No matter what Bruce had said when he caught Tim in the act of laying the paper trail to establish his Fake Uncle, no matter how long Dick had sobbed into the phone at him during an inordinately expensive long distance (read: off planet) phone call, no matter how much Alfred had been fussing over him and insisting it was no trouble at all to care for him since Tim’s scheme had been revealed and promptly foiled, it just didn’t change the fact that Tim couldn’t stay. Truthfully, the Wayne family’s apparent sudden burst of affection for him actually made this whole thing worse because somewhere along the way, without even trying, Tim had failed to keep things wholly professional between them and somehow tricked them into thinking he belonged in their family!

He couldn’t let it stand. For the sake of Jason’s memory, for the sake of preserving the sanctity of the true Wayne family, he had to stop this… this absurdity of pretending that Tim belonged with them from continuing! Tim had to run. Tim had to vanish. It was the only way to make things right again. Sure, the thought of never seeing any of them again, the thought of being done with Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Barbara and everyone in his life he currently held dear once and for all made it feel as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest only to be shoved back down his throat to stop the flow of air into his body—but it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter, not nearly as much as they did. This would be for their own good.

Tim was leaving, and it turned out to be easier than he thought it would be in the end. Not emotionally easier, but logistically easier. Bruce had been extra attentive lately, so he thought he’d have to fake an injury and get ‘benched’ so that they would lower their guard long enough for him to slip away. But by some divine stroke of luck, a new player had waltzed onto Gotham’s criminal scene not too long after Tim’s Fake Uncle plan fell through and started making threats against Batman and Robin. They had apparently freaked B out enough to prompt him to send Tim off to Titan’s Tower to ‘focus on his team for awhile’. Tim had accepted the command with the requisite amount of complaint, planted some fake texts to make it look like he’d actually communicated to his Team that he would be there, shoved everything from his guest room in the Manor that he couldn’t bear to part with into a duffel bag underneath a spare uniform, gave Bruce what only he knew was a more emotionally charged nod goodbye than usual, and then poof. Tim Drake was zapped out of the Batcave for the last time ever.

He let himself have one night in the Tower. Partly to catch a few hours of sleep in a familiar and secure environment, but mostly so he could clean up his room for its next occupant, sweep his belongings and his person for any extra trackers, and repack his bag more efficiently. He also took the time to grab a spare backpack and fill it up with emergency rations. While he was taking plenty of cash, he didn’t want to risk having to go into stores with security cameras for a while, at least until he’d cleared a suitable distance from San Francisco proper as well as implemented the first of his many planned disguises. He didn’t think a bottle of cheap hair dye and some colored contacts would be enough to fool Oracle indefinitely, but if he was appropriately cautious it might keep her from getting a confirmation of his location long enough for the Bats to either get bored looking for him or to actually realize they were better off without him around.

When the early rays of dawn started to bathe the sides of Titan’s Tower in ember colored light, he was off. He left behind seven trackers pulled from his clothes and bag and one more from behind his ear; he’d kept the one he noticed in his favorite pair of sneakers because it was a type that wouldn’t start transmitting data until the Bats actively started tracking it and he was hoping to find someone who wore his size at the bus station he could pay to wear them so he could throw them off for even longer. If all else failed, he would just toss them in an out of the way trash can. He had also left a letter of resignation for Batman that he’d whipped up based off of an online template, signed and sealed and awaiting discovery atop the pillow in his nearly empty dorm room (he had tried for something more personal, a longer note of explanation for Bruce about why he couldn’t stay despite being asked, but—the words just wouldn’t come, and he’d been running out of time). His bag was heavy, courtesy of all of the extra supplies he’d grabbed in anticipation of having to evade not only Batman’s team but the rest of the Justice League. His heart was heavy, courtesy of emotional baggage that he wished was as easy to unpack as his actual bags would be when he finally found somewhere to settle.

He boarded the first bus he saw after he’d gone a few blocks and took a seat towards the back, where he leaned against the window and stared back at the iconic giant T that he used to belong in, however briefly, until it disappeared from sight. And just like that, Tim Drake’s life as Robin was over.

—

To Whom It May Concern:

This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately.

Thank you so much for the opportunity to work with you all for the past three years. I’ve enjoyed getting to know the team and appreciated the opportunity to learn about vigilantism and hone my detective skills. I’m excited to take these skills with me as I pursue the next step of my career.

During the past two weeks, I have done everything possible to wrap up any ongoing cases and leave no unfinished business. The Robin suit as well as my spare have been cleaned and placed in the armory of Titan’s Tower along with any gear I have been issued.

I wish Batman and team the best, but am afraid I will be out of contact for the foreseeable future.

Sincerely,

T. J. Drake

—

Red Hood stalked into Titan’s Tower with all the grace of a wildcat closing in on its prey, his vicious smirk hidden by his helmet, his unauthorized entrance hidden by virtue of the heroes’ own stupidity in failing to remove his codes from the database. Seriously—he’d thought gaining entry into their so-called fortress would be the hardest part of this little trip, and had only tried his access codes for the sake of checking the most stupidly obvious Plan A off his list! For them to work, to realize that there was nothing truly separating the precious sidekicks from the wrath of a vengeance minded crime lord, well… it sure made the message he was about to send feel all the more poignant.

He had come equipped to subdue an entire horde of Teeny Titans without hurting them (much), but to his surprise, the tower was empty of kid sidekicks despite Robin having been sent to work with his team yesterday afternoon, a fact Jason had gleaned last night from listening to the mind numbing chatter of Nightwing being bored on a stakeout and wanting to chat with anyone over the comms Jason had hacked into. Which he’d done in order to better plan his aggressive takeover of Crime Alley, not because he missed hearing his family’s voices. Nope.

(Since coming back to Gotham, it had been more difficult than he anticipated to stick to the plan when some part of his mind still stubbornly clung to those foolish, childhood dreams of belonging and family and a father who gave a shit and things like that, and kept popping up with annoying questions like ‘what if he revealed his identity to Dick or Alfred or someone just to see if maybe Talia had been right and they’d want him back after all. Clearly, the existence of a new Robin meant that they’d never really given a damn about him, so he was going to go through with this thing, just watch him.)

Truly this had to be fate, because the path to Robin was practically unfolding before him with no barriers. All that was left to do was find where in this gigantic clubhouse the itty little birdie was nesting. Jason tried the common room first. Then the kitchen. Then the rec room. And then the training floor. And the med bay. And then the armory, where he found Robin’s suit, but no actual Robin. He supposed the next place to check would be Robin’s bedroom, because even though it was well past eleven, Drake was a teenager and could conceivably be sleeping in, especially since there was no Alfred around to rouse him at a reasonable hour. Luckily, the doors on the floor with sleeping quarters were all clearly marked with either the name or symbol of the person it belonged to, so it was easy enough to find the one with that all too familiar stylized ‘R’. Jason paused to take a steadying breath before gritting his teeth and deciding to really make an entrance by kicking down the door.

…To an empty bedroom. Like, not just devoid of Tim Drake, but also devoid of books, trinkets, photos, decoration, clothes, dishes, mess, et cetera, et cetera. It looked as clean and sterile as a hotel room, and if Jason hadn’t literally just seen Robin’s insignia on the door he would think he’d entered an unassigned room by mistake. He frowned and yanked off his helmet, as if looking with his own two eyes would suddenly change the scene, but no. Nothing. He strode into the room and yanked open the closet—empty. He walked over to the desk and yanked open the top drawer—empty. He yanked open the bottom drawer, and mostly empty except for—wait, was that a pile of deactivated Bat trackers? Fucking bizarre. When he stood up, he glanced around again, and this time something on the bed caught his eye. It had been easy to miss against the white pillowcase, but there was an envelope tucked up against the pillow. With a scowl, he stalked over and grabbed it.

When Jason flipped it over, he noted that it was addressed to Batman, but decided that since he was a crime lord now he didn’t have to care about something as trivial as opening someone else’s mail. He didn't want to take off his gloves and risk leaving prints on anything, so he pulled out a dagger and used it to slice open the envelope. As he flipped it over to dump its contents on the desk, he had the fleeting thought that he probably should have put back on his mask in case this had been some villain’s ploy to poison Batman, but luckily all that fell out was a single sheet of printer paper folded into thirds.

This he was careful not to damage as he unfolded it. It wasn’t a long note, just a few small paragraphs, so it was quick enough to read: To whom it may concern. This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately…

Jason dropped the letter and took a step back, staring at the innocuous piece of paper with wide eyes and racing thoughts. Robin had—Drake wasn’t—Timothy—the kid, he was quitting? Leaving? Gone?

It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Except Robin shouldn’t have had any way of knowing Red Hood would be able to track him all the way to Titan’s Tower so why would he have set a trap for him in the first place? A trap for someone else, then? If it was, it was really, really stupid of him because the kid had signed his resignation letter from Robin with his actual name, and surely he wouldn’t have made it this far if he were that careless with his identity. So, it was either a very bad trap, or not a trap at all. And if it was not a trap at all, then…

Then Robin had… resigned. Which, ok, Jason’s stated goal coming into this thing was to get Tim Drake to stop being Robin. So he should be happy about this, right? Except he’d not gotten to toss the kid around and work out his aggression at all so there was no satisfaction in it. Also, the timing was fucking obnoxious. Go figure that the very day he decides to do something about his replacement, the kid decides to peace out of the Gotham vigilante scene and… and go…

… Somewhere. Jason had no idea where Tim Drake would go if he were no longer Robin. Given how he’d waited until he was alone and then left the note to be found on the other side of the country, Jason had a sneaking suspicion that returning to Gotham was currently off the table. The letter had said he would be ‘out of contact’ for the foreseeable future; Jason could read between the lines enough to figure out that meant he was running away.

—Which, fuck. Another Robin was running away from Batman because of… well, Jason didn’t know what this kid’s issue with B was, but there were plenty of potential flaws in the man to choose from so Jason was going to play it safe and assume it was something Bruce did. Clearly, the man could never learn. And now, this poor dumb Robin was going to pay the price! Jason was more than familiar with the number of horrors that awaited kids who ended up on their own. He could starve; he could freeze to death; he could catch some disease like the flu, or get cut on a rusty nail and get tetanus, and then die from it because he couldn’t access medical treatment. He could get mugged, or harassed by cops, or snatched up by traffickers, or—

And fine; Jason himself had meant to hurt him. But that had been for ideological purposes, to prove a point about putting children in danger and not taking good enough care of them and stuff. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt him that badly, just bad enough to freak out Bruce a bit. But Jason was also the Red Hood, and the Red Hood’s mission was to do what was necessary to stop awful shit from happening to vulnerable kids. And this stupid, stupid letter was apparently enough to abruptly transfer Timothy Drake into that category in his head.

Everything Jason had heard about the kid said he was smart, and the timing of his disappearance pointed to some thoughtful planning on his part. Jason could imagine that the little shit had some sort of plan in place to evade Batman’s attempts to locate him, and he probably could manage to run without getting caught by Bruce and the Gotham team for a while. Heck, the kid probably had strategies to get away from most if not all of the Justice League members, since B was sure to call in favors once he got frantic enough about the little bird. But one thing the kid likely did not plan for was being pursued by him. Ex-Robin, currently a crime lord, League of Assassins connections, and a bone to pick with Timothy specifically? (He ran away from home and left a fucking resignation letter about it? Does he not realize what that would do to Dick, to Alfred, to Bruce—)

After stuffing the letter into his pocket, Jason put back on his helmet and stalked out of Titans Tower as silently as he’d arrived, this time with a new yet equally furious purpose sharpening his steps. Sucked to be Timothy Drake, he thought, because the Red Hood got his message and he was officially concerned.

#my writing #my fanfic #tim drake #jason todd #to whom it may concern #would be what this fic is called if I ever continue it haha #but this is as far as I got and then kinda lost steam #but it stands as a one shot pretty nicely so I thought I'd share it here see what people thought. ya know.#could it be a multi chapter fic one day? sure. what do I know. will it be soon? probably not.#um ok what else #unreliable narrator #tim drake has self worth issues #are probably the two most critical tags/warnings for this one.#anyway actually being on desktop is giving me way too much power look at me go all these tags and no typos damn!

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