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phin-dicated · 8 months

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And Death said, "I have come for this soul."

But Donnie refused.

Hey @somerandomdudelmao why must you hurt me this way.

#rottmnt #cass apocalyptic series #cass apocalypse au #cass apocalypse fanart #f!leo #f!donnie #disaster twins #rise donnie #rise leo #rise of the tmnt #the new update gut punched me #but like in a good way?#love that twin content

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evasive-anon · 8 months

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Cass' confusion the first time she punches a meta and they are unaffected is so fucking cute. She has no idea what's going on.

Bruce takes so many L's in Cass' batgirl run for his behavior but him immediately jumping in and getting overprotective once he realizes Cass is facing something new is precious. Especially since he was threatening people with her all of one panel before this.

From Batgirl (2000) Issue 3.

#I'm allowed to badly edit in memes into my comic book panels as a treat #wanna make a post just of the actual cute Bruce&Cass moments from this run #cause there are already so many bad!dad Bruce panels #I am in the mood for some wholesome content #tbh even snips of the wholesome stuff would probably be less wholesome in context but we take what we can get #cass cain #cassandra cain #dc comics #batgirl #comic panels #batman #batgirl (2000)#original post

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mysterycitrus · 24 days

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when people argue for jason and tims close brotherly bond despite its fundamental lack of presence in the text i always think of this page like

i love the implication that from “we haven’t talked much since he came back from the dead” and “he’s the closest thing i have to a brother” it’s implied that tim can fold space-time

#although id argue the primary point of contention for people IS accurate for pre-flashpoint #(aka the last era of semiconsistent characterisation for jason)#anyways this is why i will never respect their close bond compared to tims relationship with dick and babs and cass #cause it’s sitting on books written by SCOTT LOBDELL #also what is this weird yaoi baiting pose lmao

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jojo-rolo · 1 year

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Just a moment of softness in the apocalypse

It’s already been 6 months since I’ve actively been drawing for Rise, so I wanted to commemorate it with a redraw/continuation of THIS piece I’ve drawn back in October! Lineart under the cut!

#rottmnt #my art #rottmnt raphael #rottmnt casey #rottmnt casey jr #future timeline baby!#I've grown so much as an artist in just 6 months it's insane #raph x casey #raphcass #I'm just so soft about them still!!!!#i want so much raph cass content #like you can't believe how much I want Cass to chase around Raph like in #how to make enemies and bend people to your will #AAAAAAAAAAA #jojo-rolo

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thevioletcaptain · 2 months

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So I've been quiet on here a lot longer than planned.

The reasons are many. The reasons are varied.

The reasons are mostly fucking horrible.

Under a cut because it's long. Check tags for content warnings.

First was the expected absence: my parents came to visit me in Los Angeles over my birthday, so I spent the first half of October showing them around whenever I wasn't working a shift at my shitty department store day-job, or in class at UCLA.

Then, almost immediately after they went back to Australia, I got a second job working as a personal assistant for a composer. This was (and is) an extremely fun and rewarding job, but meant having one more thing on my weekly schedule, which was an adjustment.

Given that until halfway through last year, I'd been out of work since I immigrated in 2019, it took a while for me to get used to having so many concurrent responsibilities, and I'd just started to get a handle on things when I got sick right before the holidays. I took many covid tests -- all negative -- and eventually determined that it was just last year's strain of flu, which I hadn't managed to find time to get the shot for due to the aforementioned super busy schedule. I'm almost positive it was thanks to a particular customer at the aforementioned shitty department store job who coughed hard enough in my direction for their germs to get through my n95.

Anyway, last year's flu was a monster, and I spent a week in bed with a fever, then several more weeks being utterly drained and with a horrendous cough to match. It took a full month for me to recover, and then in mid-January, almost as soon as I started to catch up on all the things that had fallen behind while I was sick, things got bad, then good, then worse, then better, then much, much, much worse.

Basically, it starts with my dad being diagnosed with prostate cancer. He'd told me in October when they came to see me, but the surgery was scheduled for the tail end of January.

The surgery happened on a Monday, and it was a complete success. They got it all in one go. No chemo or radiation or further treatment needed at all. I spoke to him on the phone after he woke up, and he was in good spirits. Happy to have been given the all clear by his doctors.

I told him to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds & Evil while he rested up at home, because I'm writing specs for both this year and wanted him to be able to read them and know what was going on. He's the one who got me into sci-fi and horror, after all.

He went home.

He was home for two days.

He started feeling a bit rough on the Thursday. Short of breath. No appetite. Mum took him back to the hospital, just to be safe.

Turns out he'd had a mild heart attack. They couldn't figure out why. The echocardiogram didn't show any issues with his heart.

Then over the next couple of days, his breathing got worse. They took a scan of his lungs, and found that they were extremely inflamed. They'd given him covid tests but they came back negative. We told them about a work accident he had about 20 years ago, where a switchboard he'd been working on exploded in his face, and he'd suffered from inhalation burns among other things.

They thought that maybe something during the prostate surgery had caused irritation in his already damaged lungs, which put stress on his heart and caused the mild heart attack. He's never had any issues with his lungs since that accident, but they thought that maybe he'd just adapted to the damage over the years without realizing.

They kept trying different treatments to help his lungs heal. Nothing seemed to work. His breathing kept getting worse. They had him on as much oxygen as possible without intubating him, but it wasn't enough, so over that weekend they decided that they'd need to move him to another hospital with a more specialized lung unit.

When they were preparing to do that on the Monday night, he crashed. Another heart attack. Bigger, this time. They intubated him. Sedated him. Called my mum and told her to come in right away because things looked so bad.

But then he rallied. By the morning, though he was still sedated and intubated, the doctors were confident that with the right treatment at the specialized lung unit at the other hospital, he'd be okay. He was still in a rough condition, but stable. They transferred him to the other hospital.

He was given another covid test. This one came back positive.

My mum and brother called me once it was a reasonable time in Los Angeles to let me know what was going on, and the next day my brother booked me a flight back to Australia. I had to leave for the airport about five hours after my ticket was booked.

I got to Melbourne on February 1st.

For the next two weeks, dad was intubated, sedated, and in an isolation room. Every few days, they scanned his lungs again, and they were slowly improving.

Finally, he stopped testing positive, and was moved to a regular room in the ICU. Then he healed enough for them to extubate him and wake him up.

On February 13th, he was conscious enough to squeeze my hand when we went in to see him. On February 14th, he was conscious and capable of talking enough to ask a nurse in his ward to bring him his phone, and called mum first thing in the morning to wish her a happy Valentines Day.

Two days later, on Friday 16th, his lungs looked good enough on scans that they felt it was safe to do an angiogram, which they wanted to do just to double check that there weren't any issues with his heart that they missed with the echo.

They did the test. They found massive blockages. 90% blockage in one artery; significant blockages in two others.

Even though he'd barely recovered from covid, the blockages were bad enough that they scheduled him for open heart surgery on Monday 19th. They said without surgery there was a 100% chance that the blockages would cause another massive heart attack that he would not survive. They said there was about a 20% chance that he'd have complications, but only about 4% that they'd be serious/life threatening.

Like before, the surgery went well. Triple bypass, in the end. We got a call late on Monday afternoon to say that he was in recovery and looking good. His heart was functioning perfectly. They'd bring him out of sedation that night. Keep him in the ICU one or two days just as the standard post-op procedure. He'd spend a week or so in a cardiac ward after that, then head to a physical rehab ward for a couple of weeks until he could build back the muscle mass he'd lost while sedated.

We went in to see him the next day. Tuesday 20th. His 66th birthday.

He was tired, but looked good. Color in his cheeks. He made a couple of jokes. We left after about 45 minutes because he was pretty worn out, and we wanted to let him get some rest.

But then after, that his breathing started to get bad again. By Wednesday morning, they'd switched out the oxygen prongs in his nose for a big, high-pressure mask again. They called to let us know they were going to intubate him again so he could rest while his lungs recovered a bit more.

They struggled to get the tube in.

His lungs were deteriorating badly. He kept getting worse. We couldn't go in to see him because they were working on him all day.

At 9pm we got a call to say that he was just getting worse. They had him on 100% oxygen. He just wasn't absorbing it. His entire body was under massive strain. They were doing everything they could, but he just wasn't improving.

They said we should go in right away.

We got there by 10pm. My brother and his wife arrived about the same time. We went in to see him. He didn't look good. He looked pale. But he was warm, and he'd come back from the brink before, and we were sure he could do it again. We stayed with him for about an hour, and left not long after 11pm. Went back to my brother's place because they live closer to the hospital.

We were there about half an hour before they called us again. Just after midnight. He was gone.

That was about a week and a half ago, now. It still doesn't feel real. He was only 66. He hadn't even retired yet. He was working full time up until the week before Christmas, and had planned on going back to work a few days a week after he'd recovered from surgery. He never had any heart trouble, or lung trouble. He was active. He was fine.

My wife Zel and her mom flew in a couple of days after it happened. I barely remember anything from the past two weeks. Everything just feels fake.

I've been trying to write something to say at the funeral, which we've finally been able to arrange for next week -- it was delayed because we had to wait for dad to be released by the coroner. I don't think I'll be able to do it.

Anyway. That's where I've been.

It'll probably be a little while longer before I'm around here much, let alone posting with any regularity, because I'll be in Australia helping my mum & and my brother sort everything out. I have no idea how long I'll be dealing with stuff, or when I'll be able to make words cooperate enough to post anything, but I'll be back eventually.

I'm trying to keep an eye on Discord (I'm violetmatter over there) so you can find me there if you want. But yeah, I just wanted to let you guys know why I've been so quiet.

#cass says things #this is a very long #and heavy post #so i guess i should include some content warnings #uh #christ what do i even tag this with #cw: hospital #cw: health #cw: death #cw: parent death

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disgracedghostprincess · 11 months

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Turtlecaseyturtlecaseyturtlecasey—

I drew some sketches of Turtle Casey Jr. from @somerandomdudelmao Cass Apocolypse Series!

#turtle casey #turtle Casey supremecy #also holy fuck #he’s still a turtle #I love him sm ahdjshd #he’s so cool #ty cass for sharing this au with us and for all the content u make #cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt #save rottmnt #tmnt #casey jr #uncletello

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drbatsponge · 3 months

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Listen, I choose to be an optimistic Cassandra Cain fan, she had a really good fucking year last year, like damn we can't just ignore that. 😭

It's safe to say I don't think she's being as mistreated as she used to be by DC.

She was quite literally in 3 critically acclaimed books, 2 of which are still going, like- 🧍🏻‍♀️

At the most I want Cass to be in more media outside of comics, I can't rely on Batwheels for my main source of Cassandra Cain media that's beyond the funny pages. 💀

Also obviously I'm worried about Steph because she's been completely fucking buried outside of being in DC's events, like she deserves a book.

#though Batwheels rocks unironically #anyways just gonna say that Cass has reached a point where I'm kind of content #yes DC still does some bullshit like Gotham War but I can mostly ignore that #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #batgirl #batgirls #dc comics

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manjjiros · 6 months

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okay but sweet post-juvie kazutora who goes to weekly therapy seeing you for the first time and giving in to his repressed darker impulses. idk i can just see yandere!kazutora so vividly !! stalking and kidnapping you bc he wants you all to himself <3

GROUP THERAPY

kazutora hanemiya x fem!reader

warnings: dark content, yan!kazu, stalker!kazu, implied sex, inaccurate representation of group therapy, manipulation, kidnapping, lying about condom usage, ask to tag

notes: cass this has been in my brain ever since you sent it. about 2.3k.

from the ASM: [he bumps into you as he passes by you in the casino, jumping in fear and dropping a file that had been confiscated from kazutora’s desk. the photos that scattered all over the floor were all… you. they were all of you. the ASM apologizes profusely and scrambles to pick them up.]

the smell of burnt coffee and donuts.

the low hum of old overhead lights, one of them flickering, making it a little hard to see very clearly in the damp basement of the church.

two, then one, then two, then three, then one; people filtered into the basement and sat at each of the chairs that were placed in a circle, though it became more of an oblong shape as one by one people pulled them back to be able to sit in them.

kazutora had gotten there a half hour early, dropped off by his parole officer who told him he would be back to pick him up at seven thirty, sharp. he sat in the stiff chair, hands folded between his knees, eyes drifting dazedly over each person that arrived and took a seat in the circle.

group therapy would help, the parole officer had grunted to him from the driver’s seat, give you a chance to talk to other kids like you. i’ve seen it help others.

the therapist took a seat two chairs away from kazutora, dragging his attention away from the door for a split second to study him. the guy looked like he was just under thirty, some stereotypically upbeat type. he let out a breath, certain that this place would make him rip his hair out and have another breakdown, until…

you.

you came in in a flurry, worried about the possibility of being late. you carried yourself with the confidence of a small dog, shaking and nervous as you gently closed the heavy doors behind yourself to try and stay under the radar.

it was too late for that. kazutora’s cold, intense gaze followed every tiny step you took towards the circle of people in the center of the room.

your lamblike gaze shifted around nervously for an empty seat, finding none outside of the one directly next to kazutora. he was new to the group, unknown to all of the regular members, and no one wanted to try their luck with a guy who looked like he could be part of a gang. you didn’t have a choice, though, and hurried around the edge of the circle before pulling the chair back to sit with a breath. “sorry, i hope you don’t mind,” you murmured to him.

it felt like his chest was being squeezed. he wanted to eat you alive.

“it’s fine,” he smiled lightly at you, shrugging his shoulders.

you smelled like freshly cut flowers and the summer sun. he wanted to brush that lock of hair over your shoulder to reveal the column of your throat and sink his teeth into your soft skin. what did you taste like? sugar, maybe? were you as sweet as you seemed?

what was your name?

he opened his mouth to ask, but got cut off by the therapist clasping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. he said his name, but kazutora didn’t hear it, nor did he want to. any voice that wasn’t yours should be silenced.

he shook his head to himself and slumped back into his chair. he shouldn’t be thinking like that. those thought processes are what landed him in this shithole anyway, and now he was being forced to sit through these hour-long group sessions to listen to other people complain and whine.

it did bring him to you, though. he supposed it wouldn’t be so bad.

“... and we have a newcomer today, just registered this morning. do you want to introduce yourself?”

kazutora blinked slightly, rejoining the conversation and glancing around. “kazutora hanemiya,” he gave a curt wave, eyes darting over to yours to watch you smile.

“hi kazutora,” everyone in the circle replied, as if it were some kind of alcoholics’ anonymous meeting. maybe it was. maybe he was in the wrong place, it would explain the coffee and the gorgeous girl sitting next to him that he wanted to devour.

“so, kazutora, what brings you in to join us?” the therapist tilted his head, a mild smile on his face.

kazutora hummed softly, shifting in his seat. “i was part of a gang. i’m not anymore. i got caught doing gang stuff.” it was a complete bluff – shinichiro’s blood was still on his hands. it’d been years, but the blood never came off. “theft, mostly.”

he felt himself smile back at the therapist, calm and collected, before turning his sights back on you. you looked timid, shrinking slightly under his gaze before smiling back at him.

“we’ll get you to open up soon enough. let’s get started, shall we?” the therapist was quick to move on, clearly wanting kazutora to not feel pressured at his first visit, but he didn’t care. he wasn’t impressed or even vaguely interested in what these other pitiful people had to say. it only mattered when you told a recent story of how you held yourself back from stealing an expensive purse when you realized it was missing a security tag.

a kleptomaniac, it seemed that was your only crime. well, technically, it was grand theft, but hey, it was nothing in the long run. something that would be sealed up because you were a kid when you did it.

kazutora listened to your story as if you were a siren, and he was a lost man at sea, swimming closer and closer to you. he could feel the corners of his mind start to warp as he watched the way your lips curled around your words, enticing him closer. he wanted to feel you, to hold you, to get you that fucking bag you’re talking nonstop about-

the session finished with your story, and it would be a short five minutes until his parole officer would arrive to take him back to his tiny apartment on the outskirts of the district, where no one could reasonably get to him without at least a bike and a semblance of direction.

he watched you stand and make your way to the refreshments, your fingers dancing over the donuts before scooping up a donut hole to take a bite out of it.

his feet moved before he could stop himself, and soon enough he was at your side, grabbing a tasty, albeit chalky, treat for himself. “good thing they give us some sugar after making us spill our guts like that, right?”

“huh?” you turned to lift your head and look up at him, blinking in surprise at his sudden presence next to you. “oh, yeah, i guess so. today wasn’t so bad. sometimes miki cries, and then we all really need the sugar.”

“that doesn’t sound fun at all.” kazutora stuck his bottom lip out as he chewed on the tasteless donut in his hand. you shrugged.

“it’s the way of the sessions. helps to make everyone feel seen, or something…” you trailed off before throwing him a smile that made his head spin. “you’re… kazutora, right? sorry, i listened when you said it, but the session felt really long today.”

“that’s right. and you’re y/n.” he pointed at you with his half eaten donut, sprinkles caught on his lips, and you felt yourself start to giggle.

“right. it’s nice to meet you. will you come back next week?”

“have to. it’s part of my-” he thought briefly, mind scrambling. he probably shouldn’t mention juvie, his recent release at eighteen, his real crimes. “-deal with my parents. they told me i had to keep coming if i wanted a roof, y’know?”

“oh, right,” you believed him, falling easily into the idea that he was also just a kleptomaniac, just like you. “my parents were really upset when i got arrested. they got me out on bail, but enrolled me in this program. it’s helped, it’s a good thing.”

kazutora watched the twitch of your lips as you bit down on the rest of the donut hole between your fingers. you weren’t sure.

you shrugged and reached for a napkin to wipe at your lips, the residue of your lip gloss staining it pink as you headed for the stairs leading back up to the main lobby of the church. “well, we’re glad you’ve joined us. we should probably go, they like to give us the coffee and stuff, but if we hang out for too long, they shut the lights off.”

“right,” kazutora nodded his head and followed you out, watching the way your form blended into the shadowy corridors of the stairwell.

before he knew it, you were gone, disappearing into the back of the church to exit into the back parking lot, and he was sliding easily into the back seat of his parole officer’s car.

the interaction was brief. far too brief to have even been a hit on your radar. but for kazutora, you had suddenly become a beacon of light, untainted by the blood on his hands.

he needed to know everything. he needed you.

in two month’s time, kazutora had worked himself into a point of almost-high status amongst the other delinquents in the group. he could play into his charm, he could play into being just a petty little thief who got caught up in the wrong crowd. the tokyo manji gang made me do it, he would say, crocodile tears dripping down his cheeks, i wanted to be just like mikey, but… he was someone no one else should be like.

you had rubbed his back that day, and it felt like his entire body had been lit on fire. he pumped his cock holding his shirt to his nose that night in bed, convincing himself he could still smell your lavender lotion on the fabric as he imagined it was you on top of him.

in two month’s time, kazutora had learned every single thing he possibly could about you. your name, age, your childhood home, how you walked to your college campus, the routes you alternated between to be safe. he loved to watch you browse in the high-end stores between classes, walking into the luxury districts and perusing the items you knew you could pocket but told yourself not to. he knew that soon enough he would be the one using blood soaked sticky fingers to get you whatever your little heart craved.

you wanted luxury? he could get luxury. you wanted someone stable, someone loving, someone to fill the void your dear old dad left? he knew about that too, of course, and he could fix it all.

in his head, you had become an angel, someone he craved to corrupt and ruin only for himself. the longer you kept yourself away from your human depravities, the more kazutora craved you.

two months was more than enough time to get in your good graces, to be considered a friend, someone to rely on, someone to trust. and trust him you did, giving him your phone number and letting him start to infiltrate your life outside of therapy sessions together.

you put your faith into the reformed criminal who had barely washed his hands after the crime, the blood and grime still caked under his fingernails as he rode up to you on his bike and offered you a lift to a nearby cafe after your last class.

“funny seeing you around here, kazu! i didn’t know you liked to ride around here.” you giggled as you climbed onto the back, wrapping your arms around him.

“normally i don’t, but i guess it was just fate to bump into you here.” he smiled at you over his shoulder before bringing you to the cafe he knew you liked, the one where he got his favorite photo of you chewing on a strawberry pastry with the cutest smile on your lips.

he wouldn’t sleep unless he saw that smile on your face up close and in person, and as he offered to get you whatever you wanted and you asked for just that pastry, he knew his wish would come true.

your little excursion with kazutora was fun. he was so sweet, so kind to you, reaching across the table with a napkin to dab at your cheek when some of the flaky pastry stuck to your skin. it made your cheeks feel warm, your eyes linger on his mouth.

it didn’t take him long to offer you a ride back to his place, to check out his new living quarters that his ‘parents’ were helping him pay for.

you accepted, like a lamb to the slaughterhouse, consenting to your own kidnapping as he drove you both home for the very first time.

he led you upstairs and into the small apartment, letting you in first before closing and locking the door behind himself. the place was small, well-kept, tidy. it was just a small one-bedroom, but enough for two people.

kazutora was charming. kazutora was kind. kazutora had eyes that turned into deep black pools when he looked at you, when his hands landed on your waist and his teeth sunk into your skin. kazutora was a gentleman, getting you off on his tongue before sinking his cock into your tight heat.

kazutora cared about you. he definitely had a condom on, you heard him fumble with the wrapper. kazutora didn’t make your shoulder bleed when he bit you too hard, you had been overwhelmed with pleasure and had gotten confused.

kazutora. kazutora. kazutora.

you thought only of him as you drifted to sleep in his bed, just for a short nap, you had murmured. you thought only of him as you felt something cold and a bit heavy snap around your ankle.

you had stepped on a bear trap without even knowing it, and now it had its rusty, bloodied teeth sunk deep into your flesh and muscle and bone.

kazutora would be your everything, whether you liked it or not. he had made sure of that. at least you would have the best bags his fingers could grab, right?

#kazutora hanemiya x reader #kazutora x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #♧ — kazutora #♧ — dark content #♧ — kidnapping #♧ — yandere #♧ — manipulation #tw yandere #tw kidnapping #ask to tag #♤ — regular: cass

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caitlynmeow · 2 months

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Anyone: "Do you have any pet ?"

Bela: "I have two little sisters."

😭😭😭 so true anon

if you squint you can see the pain in Bela’s eyes

#asks #incorrect quotes #house dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil village #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #re8 #alcina dimitrescu #and cass and dani do NOTHING to make things easier on her #they’re content being clowns and a pain in their big sister’s ass

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aingeal98 · 1 month

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You would think that since Bruce and Cass's morals are so aligned I'd be rooting for Bruce in his confrontations against Jason but you'd be wrong. If it's Cass vs Jason I'm team Cass she has the moral high ground and I like her more. If it's Bruce vs Jason neither of them fully have the moral high ground even though technically Bruce and Cass's codes are quite similar. Because unlike Cass Bruce has been used as a mouthpiece by multiple right wing writers and also just plain bad writers to the point that you have to ignore a LOT to simplify his morals down to "Killing bad." Like yeah if Jason's going around murdering people I'm rooting for say, Cass or Dick to take him down. With lots of angst and challenging their codes and making sure everyone has a bad time. But Bruce is just such an asshole and yeah, bad person, in so many other ways. (You can ignore the comics where he's horrible if you want but they exist and there have been so, so many of them it's a consistent character trait post Jason's death. And it's never character assassinating him for anyone else, he's always presented as the Protagonist even when he's going through his edgy punch the kids moments. Which sucks but that's what DC chose.)

And also Jason was sacrificed for Bruce's pain and meant to just stay dead and smeared to let Bruce get the angst without the bad dad allegations so hell yeah son. Come back to life and torment your father. Be more than just a costume in a cave. Just get better comics and better fans because when you're not fighting Bruce you've been Lobdell's pet for so long that most casual readers associate you with his godawful writing right after the UTRH movie.

#after alfred I think bruce is my least favourite batfam member even though I enjoy so much of his interactions with my faves #But the way he treats Babs Steph Helena Dick Jason... Tim Damian and Cass too in a slightly different way #i like good batdad content but I was also rooting for gotham war to end with them jumping him and breaking his legs. u know.#dc #dc rambles #scared to tag this with any character tags because it's not coherent it's just something that's been brewing in my brain #like one part of it is that even when cass is wrong i care about her more than the people she's wronging.#and one part of it I do genuinely think despite their codes being so similar at this point Cass is the pure essence of what batman should b #whereas bruce is just. head stuffed up his own ass by so many different writers it gets boring.

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starrycomics · 2 months

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Detective Comics #1082

No because you don’t understand - Cass didn’t become a vigilante because of Batman, doing good and pursuing righteous vengeance is a very part of her being in the same way as Bruce

She may use the symbol of the Bat but she’s MORE than that - she may follow in Bruce’s footsteps but she was always going to walk that path - her righteousness was not taught it was an inevitability

And that’s why she’s the natural progression of the Batman legacy - all of the Robin’s have learnt from and rebelled against Bruce’s teachings in equal measure, but Cass to her core holds Bruce’s values, the good and the bad, inside her on pure instinct

#cassandra cain #batgirl #Batman #Bruce Wayne #detective comics #ram v #ram v I would die for you you’re doing god’s work #all this good cass content I am so well fed

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