#bat scribbles

[batnbreakfast]

Inspired by halorvic’s Shurgkh and my attempt to finally get some decorations up:

[nevlartery]

17. Loud

[ID: A rough black and white sketch of Black Bat on a motorcycle]

[son1c]

if sonic prime won't give us a rouge-centric world, then i'll just make my own <3

i've been calling it "deepfreeze domain" because it sounds just corny enough to be in the actual show. although, that's technically only half of the world; it's split in two, with the other half being a lava-filled place. deepfreeze, though, is appropriately cold.

sonic's friends are split between the two halves of the world, with the tails and rouge variants being from deepfreeze. tails, called hatchet in this world, was taken in by rouge, who's called alabaster.

a main function of this world are the wisps. everyone is bonded to one (except for hatchet, who has two). they contribute to the main gimmick of the world: wisp races.

in this world, alabaster is willing to do anything to secure that bag. those prizes. the championship title. "you might not like how i do things, but i get things done." you know? so, she's the undefeated champion of the wisp races, thanks to her own cunning tactics and a little "help" from hatchet.

that might be a problem once sonic and shadow show up though, since this shatterspace's shard is in an unfortunate spot: the championship trophy.

[eedaeth]

✂️🤡✨

They're not allowed scissors.

I've been chipping away at this for a few days but things were looking dire and the lines were not lining and sometimes my hands refuse to do THEIR ONLY JOB so here we are behind schedule. I know i know,🤩ShoCKER🤩

[shyghosties]

he’s friends with the stars ✨

[squintydrawafist]

Damian gets a pet peafowl for his birthday (sent by his mom so it's also a ninja peafowl)

Damian has two choices here (okay three but where's the fun in that) Either name the bird 'Peaman' or 'Batcock'

Peaman the Batcock and Jerry the turkey become gay bird lovers

--

Bruce: "I'm gonna have to veto the Batcock part of this pet's name" Damian: "Coward" Jason: "Hypocrite" Bruce: "How???" Jason: "You let Dick go by 'Dick'"

-

Steph: "Would you rather Damian name him 'Batpea the Mancock'?" Duke: "Or 'Peabat the Cockman'?" Bruce: "Stop"

-

Dick: "I would like to propose the peacock be named 'Soup,' cause I thought that's what we were talking about." Damian: "No, it's too late. This is Batcock the Peaman." Alfred: "I think 'Soup' is an excellent name for a peacock." Dick: "Thank you, Alfred"

--

Damian: "Everyone, I have someone to introduce you to; This is Soup the Peahen." Tim: "Where did he get another peacock??" Cass: "Found it by Robinson Park. Took it home, said it's his now." Steph: "Yeah that checks"

-- Soup is a lesbian

[gbirrd]

2/9 - Cass Cain tarot card designs for Complete Candor by @vexfulfolly as part of the @batfam-big-bang

Read the fic here!

Other cards:

1-Babs 2-Cass 3-Bruce 4-Tim 5-Damian 6-Jason 7-Duke 8-Steph 9-Dick

Image IDs

Image 1:

A design of "The Empress" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "THE EMPRESS". A symbol of a rabbit and a wolf is visible behind the numeral "III".

Cass Cain is in her Batgirl uniform facing forward. She has wide pupil-less white eyes. A human ribcage fills the background with an anatomical human heart within it that radiates a faint red glow.

Image 2:

A design of "The Empress" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "THE EMPRESS" upside-down. A symbol of an anatomical human heart with a fork in it is visible behind the numeral "III".

A young Cass Cain faces forward in a pink dress covered in blood. Her hair is in two pigtails and she has wide pupil-less white eyes. Both her face and fists are covered in blood. A human ribcage fills the background with an anatomical human heart within it that has a blood-covered knife stabbed right through the middle. The entire card is upside-down.

[chaos-------candy]

hi im easily distracted. amd i love colors

feel free to reblog! please don’t repost 🤟

[gothamsfinestdummy]

First Marcy doodles

[bowelfly]

Bzzzz, you have good vibe, much cool, do you like bats? Or ducks...? :) I like your drawings, please keep being 😎

i love all beasts creatures critters and varmints

[ivanis-alive]

BOO!! VAMPIVAN!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN💥💥

[son1c]

more snowpoint au stuff :)

[electricpurrs]

i havent been able to draw anything decent in weeks, but on other side i've found out messing around on whiteboard is very fun

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

oop found this in my drafts! might as well post! they become quite close in this au - thats what happens when youve only got each other for a Very Long Stressful Time <3 these are just fragments of scene ideas that came from my single braincell hitting corner perfect <3

[tezzbot]

My friend knew a guy who just didn't like music I think that's my official stance on the what music does Shadow listen to debate . none unless he's asked/made to hear something<3 I think that's the funniest outcome

[river-bottom-nightmare]

There have been times when Cassandra’s ribs have felt rather like kindling. Bruised, weak all over, a flick away from splintering into shards and puncturing her lungs and her heart and the very diaphragm that powers her breath. Right now doesn’t quite muster up the same level of agony, but Dick sure is trying his hardest to get her there. 

“You have to roll into it, Cass,” he says, for practically the hundredth time. 

She grits her teeth and replies, “I’m trying. It’s a metal circle.”

“And you’re treating it like a weapon to use in a fight,” Dick says, loping beside her with an exasperated sort of grin, one that settles comfortably in the years of his hard-earned patience. He’s only wearing a simple t-shirt and joggers, which she cannot understand for the life of her. Cass is bundled up in two layers with socks and has thick leg warmers covering her knees—or more importantly, the backs of her knees. (She can still somehow feel watercolor bruises painting on that tender skin.)

She taps out, hooking her legs over the bottom of the lyra before flipping out. Moving slightly to the side, she sinks onto the plush mat on the floor of Dick’s studio, arms stretched back and basking in the low sunlight coming from the large windows. Or possibly just basking in the air conditioning.

Dick slips down beside her and hands her a bottle of water, which she sips gratefully. “I’d say you were close that time, but…” Cass glares at him and he chuckles, hands up in mock-surrender. “All right, all right. But you want a word of advice?”

He says this casually, throwing out the words as if he doesn’t expect his siblings to take him up on the offer. Like he doesn’t realize his life is a masterclass in performance, the sort of thing a symphony orchestra proudly tunes before a miraculous, miraculous song. Like the years of his experience he’s so laboriously built doesn’t make the rest of them froth at the mouth, beg with open palms for Dick to plant his knowledge in their grasp, as much as they may deny it. Hungry dogs, the lot of them, gazing up at Dick’s flawed perfection. The brilliant bastard. Fucking prince amongst men. 

As if Cass wouldn’t want his advice.

“Sure,” she says.

“You shouldn’t be fighting the lyra every second to be exactly where you want it to be,” Dick remarks. “Not to be a bit obvious, but—I mean it’s a metal hoop suspended from the ceiling. It’s gonna spin. It’s gonna move. Your balance is perfect, better than mine, but you have to carry that momentum through. You can’t just stay still. You have to flow with it.”

In half confusion and half accusation, Cass tells him, “You do not ‘flow with it.’ I see you. You plan every move.”

At that, Dick snorts. “Yeah, okay. Every part of me is in control when I’m on the lyra, sure. But I’m not—well, I plan the things I can’t plan.”

Her brother has said many nonsensical things in the years she’s known him, but this one completely boggles her brain. She makes sure her face conveys as such to him.

“The hoop’s gonna spin, no matter what, right? But I can control how fast it’ll move with how I move, and can even set the spin myself if I touch down,” Dick explains, fingers gesturing in the air. She can see he’s buffed his calluses recently. “You’re in the air, so of course the places where you’re keeping in contact with the hoop are gonna feel pressure. But you move with the hoop so that you’re not just balancing against one spot for too long and bruising yourself. You should roll along the curve of the hoop however fast or slow you need to land exactly where you want to be for the next part. Does that make sense?”

Not…completely. Cass is someone who needs to do something to fully understand it, needs to get up and feel the lyra in the way Dick is talking about, let it kiss her bones and ripple out to the tips of her fingers. But what she does have down for memory, imprinted into the backs of her eyelids and carved into the grooves of her brain, are fights.

And when Dick fights, he’s well-trained and disciplined. Every move is calculated, but within those calculations are measures of uncertainty. Like a window fogged with potential or a drop of ocean water straining to reach the topmost peak of a jetty. Dick’s not averse to improvisation, builds it into the many layers of his plans. It’s what makes his combat style the most infallible of all of them, in the long run.

“You fight like jazz,” Cass tells him.

And he throws his head back and laughs, like he knows exactly what she means. He probably does.  “Thanks Cass,” he says, eyes twinkling. “Now c’mon. Let’s try again. Remember: roll with it.”

--

i am incapable of not praising this man at every given opportunity. goddamn. anyway

@dickgraysonweek dick grayson week day 5: everyone's favorite brother | harem of older men | aerial sports/arts

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