#bats + birds + affiliated

[havendance]

My silly headcannon is that Tim sends out a weekly email newsletter to everyone's batmail accounts like: Batman's going off the rails again 🙄 Oracle says you all have terrible passwords and need to change them because everyone fell for her phishing tests. Except Cass. Cass, Oracle says you need to actually check your batmail. The Joker's been lying low this week, but someone's been buying up a bunch of abandoned movie theaters so be ready. Also, Dick, you're out of Zesti again. You should get some more. It's on sale.

#dc #batman #bats + birds + affiliated #tim tag #carthago delenda est

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

Read Palestine Week

🇵🇸 Good morning, my beautiful bookish bats. Can I start by saying a huge THANK YOU for sharing my Queer Palestinian Book post? Seriously, thank you so much. Let's keep that momentum by observing Read Palestine Week (Nov 29 - Dec 5). I've compiled a list of books to help you, along with a list of upcoming events and resources you can use this week and beyond.

🇵🇸 A collective of over 350 global publishers and individuals issued a public statement expressing solidarity with the Palestinian people. Publishers for Palestine have organized an international #ReadPalestine week, starting today (International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People).

🇵🇸 These publishers have made many resources and e-books available for free (with more to come). A few include award-winning fiction and poetry by Palestinian and Palestinian diaspora authors. You'll also find non-fiction books about Palestinian history, politics, arts, culture, and “books about organizing, resistance, and solidarity for a Free Palestine.” You can visit publishersforpalestine.org to download some of the books they have available.

POETRY 🌙 Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear by Mosab Abu Toha 🌙 Affiliation by Mira Mattar 🌙 Enemy of the Sun by Samih al-Qasim 🌙 I Saw Ramallah by Mourid Barghouti 🌙 A Mountainous Journey by Fadwa Tuqan 🌙 So What by Taha Muhammad Ali 🌙 The Butterfly’s Burden by Mahmoud Darwish 🌙 To All the Yellow Flowers by Raya Tuffaha

FICTION 🌙 Gate of the Sun by Elias Khoury 🌙 Speak, Bird, Speak Again: Palestinian Arab Folktales 🌙 Men in the Sun by Ghassan Kanafani 🌙 Morning in Jenin by Susan Abulhawa 🌙 Gaze Writes Back by Young Writers in Gaze 🌙 Palestine +100:Stories from a Century after the Nakba 🌙 Wild Thorns by Sahar Khalifeh 🌙 Out of Time by Samira Azzam

🌙 The Skin and Its Girl by Sarah Cypher 🌙 You Exist Too Much by Zaina Arafat 🌙 A Woman is No Man by Etaf Rum 🌙 Salt Houses by Hala Alyan 🌙 A Map of Home by Randa Jarrar 🌙 Against the Loveless World by Susan Abulhawa 🌙 Minor Detail by Adania Shibli 🌙 The Woman From Tantoura by Radwa Ashour

NON-FICTION 🌙 Blood Brothers by Elias Chacour 🌙 Strangers in the House: Coming of Age in Occupied Palestine by Raja Shehadeh 🌙 Palestinian Art, 1850–2005 by Kamal Boullata 🌙 Palestine by Joe Sacco 🌙 The Hour of Sunlight: One Palestinian’s Journey from Prisoner to Peacemaker by Sami Al Jundi & Jen Marlowe 🌙 Palestine: A Four Thousand Year History by Nur Masalha 🌙 Justice for Some: Law and the Question of Palestine by Noura Erakat 🌙 The Words of My Father: Love and Pain in Palestine by Yousef Khalil Bashir

🌙 Traditional Palestinian Costume: Origins and Evolution by Hanan Karaman Munayyer 🌙 Mountain against the Sea: Essays on Palestinian Society and Culture by Salim Tamari 🌙 This Is Not a Border: Reportage and Reflection from the Palestine Festival of Literature 🌙 We Could Have Been Friends, My Father and I: A Palestinian Memoir, by Raja Shehadeh 🌙 Les échos de la mémoire. Une enfance palestinienne à Jérusalem, by Issa J. Boullata 🌙 A Party For Thaera: Palestinian Women Write Life In Prison 🌙 Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire, 🌙 Voices of the Nakba: A Living History of Palestine

#free palestine #save palestine #books #book list #book recs #book recommendation #booklr #book blog #batty about books #battyaboutbooks #arab american heritage month #arab american writers #palestinian writers #palestinian poetry #poetry #poetry books #nonfiction #fiction books #queer fiction #queer community #queer books #muslim writers #read palestine week

[miscmonstro]

working on a concept for a dpxdc fanfic.

Tim, 17, is at the tail end of junior year at Gotham Academy. During gym he typically ducks into the toilet stalls or showers to change. He’s a vigilante and he can’t exactly explain his bruises/cuts/scars without causing concern, thus he just avoids anyone finding out at all. Unbeknownst to him, one of his classmates was in the same situation.

Wesley Weston was always late to the class after PE, he was always the last out of the locker room. He always showered after class and was very meticulous about putting away and taking out his uniform. He’d even refold his gym clothes a few times and comb his hair until nothing was out of place. Some thought he had OCD, others thought he was vain, and others still thought he was fruitlessly trying to be accepted; Wes was a known loner. There was plenty of speculation when the gossip mill was slow but in reality, Wes always stalled so he could change as quickly as humanly possible, but only after the room was empty.

By pure chance Tim forgets to switch out his gym shoes for his uniform shoes after PE one day and when he gets back to the locker room, it’s locked. Makes sense, the coaches always lock the locker rooms when there isn’t a class using them. Not having time to track down the coach and not wanting to be late to class, Tim picks the lock and out of habit, slips in quietly. He rounds the corner and sees Wes changing. More than that, he sees that Wes is covered in scars and scrapes. And in plain view is the still raw and distinctive injury Damian gave a mysterious, non-bat/bird affiliated vigilante recently.

That is how Tim accidentally discovers that Wesley Weston is Spyris. Spyris who appears and disappears without rhyme nor reason, who sometimes will hunt down Batman’s rogues and who sometimes will walk right past them. No one knows what Spyris does or why, just that he’s there and he’s competent enough to evade the batclan for the several months they’ve known about him.

Maybe he notices then or maybe Tim confronts him about it later but in any case, Wes automatically threatens to out him as Red Robin if he says anything and Tim is shook. When did Wes find out, how long has he known, how did he figure it out. Was anyone else compromised? And what did Wes want? What was Spyris’ goal?

Overall I want Valerie, Sam, Tucker, Danny, and Wes to be vigilantes in Gotham for whatever reason (ghost stuff?) working as a unit, but Spyris is the only one the bats/birds are aware of.

Tim and Wes passive aggressively stalk each other back and forth.

#wes weston #tim drake #dp x batman #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #danny phantom #Tim Drake is a Stalker #we need to embrace this #stalker shenanigans #please itd be so funny #maybe I crack myself up too much but still. Imagine. #They can sneakily take pictures of each other w/o the other being aware and sending them as threats #And weird creepy messages in their rooms like they keep breaking into each others homes/safe houses/hiding spots #stalker to stalker communication #miscmonstro writings

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 31/?

Prev | Next

Dick walked through the cemetery holding a bouquet. He stopped in front of a grave. An angel looked over an empty coffin.

It felt wrong to visit Jason’s grave when he was still alive, but it was the only way he had to talk to his younger brother now. He put the bouquet down and then sat down. Dick didn’t really know what to do now. He didn’t even know why he had come to the grave in the first place.

Was it to ask for forgiveness? To ask why?

“I’m in therapy now.”

Silence. Did he expect anything else? Maybe.

“I know Roy wasn’t telling me to go to therapy out of the goodness of his heart, but…I needed to do it, I guess. Dinah’s a good therapist. She cuts through the bullshit and has no problem calling me out on my crap.”

The wind blew through the grass.

“I’m trying to get Bruce to go, too. It’s going as well as you can imagine.”

The angel stared at Dick, mocking him.

“Me and Tim take turns patrolling Crime Alley. It’s not too bad, but we already see cracks in your absence.”

At first, Red Hood’s lieutenants had taken over after Jason’s disappearance, and things had stayed more or less the same. However, the longer Red Hood was away from Crime Alley, the more criminals pushed boundaries, and the more the crime rate increased. Thankfully, having at least two Bats visit the place kept it from returning to its pre-Red Hood days.

They knew that the crime rate would keep increasing, but between Nightwing and Red Robin, they hoped it wouldn’t get too bad.

Bruce still refused to enter Crime Alley. Dick didn’t think it was only because of his parents.

“I’m sorry, Little Wing. If we had tried to integrate you into the family, you might still be here. I shouldn’t have kept Mar’i’s existence from you. Me and Bruce should’ve done better in welcoming you into the family.”

Too late now, he thought.

Dick and Bruce had thought that Jason would always be around. They thought they had time to bring Jason back into the fold. Now, he was gone in the wind. God only knew where he was. Well, God and Roy. He had a (possible) kid with him, and Dick couldn’t blame Jason for keeping the boy away from the family when Dick had done the same to Jason with Mar’i.

Well, not unless he wanted to be a hypocrite.

What else is new, his brain whispered.

Dick sighed and got up, dusting the dirt from his pants. He walked up to the angel and put his hand on it.

“I hope you’re happy and safe. Wherever you are, Little Wing.”

Thousands of miles away, while he was working on his car, Jason felt a chill go down his spine.

“Someone is walking on my grave,” he whispered. He blinked. How did he know that? Suddenly, the scent of flowers reached his nose. He looked around and saw nothing but oily rags and parts of cars scattered all over the place.

Jason went back to working on his car, a feeling of uneasiness filling him.

Back in Gotham, Dick wore his Nightwing suit and patrolled Crime Alley that night. He stopped a few muggings. He helped a woman return home after being followed and stopped a drug dealer from selling to a few kids.

One of Jason’s major rules was not selling to kids. The cracks were widening in Crime Alley with Red Hood’s absence.

Bruce, Tim, and Dick knew that Jason had been able to enforce these rules because a. he wasn’t affiliated with the Bats, b. he knew Crime Alley inside and out, and c. the people had accepted him.

They still didn’t trust Batman and the birds that flew with them. Not really.

Nightwing sat on top of a building overlooking Crime Alley. Thankfully, it had quieted down.

He tensed when he heard someone beside him before he noticed it was Black Bat. He relaxed a bit, still overlooking Crime Alley.

They sat in silence, letting the stillness of the area overcome them.

“Tell me about him,” she said suddenly.

Dick thought about it for a moment. Where would he even start?

“He loves reading. He loves the classics; his favorite is Pride and Prejudice.”

Black Bat cocked her head to the side, “Really? I never would’ve pegged him as a bookworm.”

 Dick nodded.

“Yeah, he was obsessed with reading. When he was younger, he wouldn’t go on patrol unless he had finished his schoolwork, the nerd. He wanted to go to college before—you know, before that happened.”

That was the crux of the matter: how different would things have been if Jason had never died?

Would he have graduated by now? Jason was brilliant, and Dick had no issues in believing that his bookworm of a brother would’ve graduated sooner than most. Would he be getting his master’s by now? Would he have a girlfriend? A boyfriend? Would the child he was with be surrounded by aunts and uncles? By his cousin? Well, there was no point in thinking ‘what ifs’ now. It was too late for that.

He felt arms around him.

“He’ll come back. I know.”

Dick tried to smile.

They didn’t know that, though, did they?

Jason was mostly out of it the rest of the day. He felt something was missing.

No, he knew what was missing. His family back in Gotham. He could survive, even thrive, with just Danny, Ellie, and Jazz. With Roy and Raven. But, a part of him, the child in him, missed his dad and older brother. He missed the possible relationship he could’ve had with Bruce’s other children, his other siblings if he hadn’t fucked up so badly.

He felt arms around him. Danny was looking at him with worry in his eyes. Even Jazz and Ellie were staring at him.

“What’s wrong, daddy?”

Looking into his son’s blue eyes, Jason knew he could never return to Gotham. They would take Danny away from him. Living away from his family was hard, but he wouldn’t survive if Danny were taken from him.

“Nothing, lad, daddy was just feeling a bit nostalgic.”

He looked into Danny’s eyes, “But I’m okay, now, chum. Daddy is okay now.”

Jason refused to have his son and small family taken from him.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

#Mending a Family #dc x dp #dp x dc

[zahri-melitor]

Identity Crisis:

Look, I read this to see Jack Drake die, and wow did he ever manage that. Poor Tim, this has been a Very Bad Week for him.

I am now however baffled as to how on earth Jean Loring even found OUT Tim Drake’s identity.

Despite all the angst over knowing one secret identity leading to uncovering everyone else’s, the only publicly linked identities among the Bats at this point are Dick and Bruce, and Dick gets away with not mentioning his Extremely Wealthy Father all the time! Getting from Bruce to Tim takes knowing about the foster records!

Ray Palmer and Jean Loring seem to have divorced pre-Crisis, from my fast skim of the wikis?

Sure she seems to have been acting as a JLA-affiliated lawyer, but that doesn’t come with a laundry list of every superhero’s personal name.

I’m just BAFFLED. Ollie hugs Connor after seeing the headline about Jack Drake’s death (without even saying ‘hey Robin’s Dad just died’), with the implication Connor isn’t even fully aware of Tim’s public identity (and Connor’s HELPED RESCUE JACK back in Batgirl #30-32, if there’s a hero NOT on a team with Tim that should know who Jack Drake is, it’s Connor)

But Ray Palmer and Jean Loring are just casually talking about ‘Tim’ as if this is just common knowledge in the community??

Who told you? You’re not close to anyone in ex-Young Justice or the current Titans, Bruce isn’t going to volunteer that information, we are barely past the “they’re urban legends” stuff. Barbara Gordon was just saying “does Clark know who I am” over in Birds of Prey #71 because officially Superman still doesn’t know Oracle’s personal name.

This isn’t Lois Lane’s identity, which is the most heavily protected ID outside the community but openly known by anyone who’s been near the JLA. It’s the father of a ROBIN.

Just…argh!!!!!!

#dc #z canon read throughs #tim drake #no but seriously the JLA should largely have no idea who Tim Drake is #at this point #Oliver Queen and Ted Kord are fine to know Jack via business reasons #Wally knows Tim via Dick and probably knows ‘Tim’ as a name #Clark and Diana know #Dinah officially doesn’t know but has probably pieced it together #probably safe to say J’onn knows just due to mind reading #everyone else? it is to laugh #identity crisis

[wiihtigo]

How do I get into DC and batman and shit without reading a trillion comics

the animated shows are a great way if you dont want to read comics, batman especially has a ton of cartoons since you named him specifically (btas, brave and the bold, the handful of justice league cartoons, batman 04, so on and so forth) (brave and the bold especially is great cuz it has a bunch of dedicated episodes to C tier jobbers no one gives a fack about..its how i found out about characters like plastic man and blue beetle :) not that theyre c tier jobbers though..)

if you meant more that youre overwhelmed by the sheer amount of comics a character like batman has....yeah there is a lot

my advice is to grab onto some specific character or plot youve seen floating around online and latch onto it like a leech and just start from there....ermm for example.. i was enchanted by a friend of mines batjokes art so i went to go read the storylines they were drawing fanart from (they were contained in batman 2011- its a run i really enjoyed! funnily its the only new 52 comic i enjoyed. batman why do you get it all)

and from there, there were a few characters i remembered being interested in seeing out of the corner of my eye, like barbara gordon and cassandra cain, so i read batgirl 2000 and birds of prey 1999 (both bat affiliated books) ....its not the way everyone would do it but i dont see a problem with working your way backwards through comics! i read a little of nightwing and robins comics that were running alongside bop and batgirl but mostly i just focused on what grabbed me and let the love in my heart guide me.

theres also a buncha stupidhero movies. and games! none ive played personally but i heard the arkham games are preddy good.

hmm as for newer comics though i think the current ongoing worlds finest (superman & batman series) is good, its written by one of my favorite writers mark waid. and drawn by dan mora so it looks pretty too. and itd be shorter than some of these older comics....but older comics are so good...give them a chance...

#asks #i hope i answered ok i think i get carried away rambling a lot when im trying to explain myself #to say again though i think dipping into the cartoons is a great way if you dont want to read a buncha comics are the moment #batman the animated series is a classic..and i have a lot of fondness for batb

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Why is Huntress’ connection to the Bat-family often so up in the air?

Maybe it’s because of her more well known affiliations with the Birds of Prey and even the Justice League among more general audiences being tapped into for the editors when it comes to storytelling potential as opposed to the Batfamily despite that one being her place of origin in a meta sense

I personally think though it sort a bit helps her in that creative standpoint in all honesty as her affiliations with the two former allow her to diversify out of the Batfam mold in which can lead to her character potential stock bring diluted and drowned out by the numerous other masks of Gotham’s crime fighters

It’s among the reasons why I usually affiliate Nightwing much more with the Titans even if he lives in Bludhaven. Him breaking away from Batman to establish himself as a hero with his own team and friends is the the main arching reason for him making the transition out of Robin in the first place, let us not forget. Even though he created the Robin mantle, by the time Dick reached the legal adulthood, that mantle had become synonymous with the man he’s been a partner of for the longest time which led to rifts with Bruce regarding the fact he was growing up and needed to branch out. Hence, Dick’s decision ultimately to move out of that mantle.

That same principle can apply to Huntress too once she’s properly established herself as a hero the Batfamily can trust by the time she makes a decision to move out of Gotham. Her connection to Oracle though can lead to her being part of the Birds of Prey alongside Lady Blackhawk and Black Canary, this works in other cities besides Gotham, and it’s simple as that. and the editors were quick to realize this which is why her actual status in The Batfamily has been flip flopping since, after all differing editors have different ideas for these characters whether it gets well or in a lot of that time not

#helena bertinelli #huntress #birds of prey #dick grayson

[brazyspirit]

it’s been a while since we’ve seen KODA JOHNSON in the shadow world. the FLEDGELING VAMPIRE resides in NEW YORK and reminds us of CIGARETTE-SCENTED JACKETS, WHISKEY BOTTLES AND GAMBLING CHIPS. rumor has it that they might have an affiliation to NO ONE, but only time will tell where their loyalties really lie. until then, only one thing is certain : the descent into hell will be easy for THE BROKEN BIRD.

FULL NAME ⸻  KODA JOHNSON. AGE ⸻ TWENTY NINE (AT TIME OF DEATH). GENDER ⸻ CIS MALE. SEXUAL ORIENTATION ⸻ GAY. PRONOUNS ⸻ HE/HIM. OCCUPATION ⸻ BARTENDER. ALLEGIANCE ⸻ CURRENTLY NONE. FACECLAIM ⸻ KIT YOUNG.

BIOGRAPHY ⸻ Twenty years in the bustling city of London was how Koda’s path started. A devoted stay-at-home mother and a hard-working farmer of a dad adored their boy despite his antics. As he made his way through the schooling system, it was evident that Koda would most likely follow in his parents footsteps. It was the beginnings of a troublemaker; after-school detentions, letters home, an undiagnosed boy who needed more support than what was offered. He tried his best to be good, in order not to disappoint the person he cherished more than anything; his mother. 

During his teenage years, Koda’s mother fell ill. It was his duty to care for her while his father remained working on the farm, providing a roof over their heads and a stable environment for his mother to recover in. Despite his best efforts, recovery was not god’s plan for Mrs. Johnson, and she succumbed to her illness just a few short weeks later.

The once lively boy fell into the deep end of despair and struggle. No longer attending school and spending long nights out of the house, the frustrations of his father only grew. He couldn’t control his son, he knew the boy was hurting, if the whiskey bottles stashed in his bedroom or empty cigarette cartons thrown on the floor gave anything away.

Koda found his way into local gambling dens, betting his most valuable personal items in exchange for an hour of rush, never returning home with less than what he started with. He was good. He could read a poker face like it was written on their forehead, always knowing when it was time to bow out. That was until he hit his first real jackpot.

Freshly eighteen, Koda found himself going home with thousands in his pocket instead of merely hundreds. He had a skip in his step,overjoyed that he could finally action the plan he had been dreaming of since that fateful day at fifteen.He returned home for what would be the last time - a note scrawled on an old piece of paper with a goodbye and the money on the kitchen table, enough in his pocket to buy his one way ticket to New York.

Leaving the city of London behind, Koda tried to get a fresh start in the world of New York. It was only a few months before his depression got the best of him. He missed his mother, his father… but he knew the man would be better off without his behaviour hindering him. 

The night it happened started much like the others. He spent the day scribbling away in his notebook, shielding it from passersby in the coffee shop he frequented, followed by making his way between the various casinos that the big apple had to offer. It was as if his stroke of luck that had kept his pockets filled for years had finally vanished. Before he knew it, he was out of money. He’d bet his car keys, his apartment, each round spiralling until he had nothing more to give. He’d thrown away everything in a feeble attempt to chase the feeling of euphoria he so desperately needed.

Stumbling into one of the rougher bars, one drink became five, his smart mouth got him in trouble with people he shouldn’t, and fights broke out. Before long, Koda was shoved onto the floor of an alleyway next to the bar, steel-toe boots being kicked into his stomach, a few strangers watching from afar. They were in the rough part of town - no one would report it, no one cared. No one batted an eyelid when fangs reflected in the moonlight, koda being left there for dead, surrounded by his own blood. 

What he didn’t expect was to be bitten. He’d heard of vampires, grew up listening to stories of Dracula and The Little Vampire, but he never dreamed it would actually exist. He prayed the fangs were a figment of his imagination, the desire for death and blood loss conjuring it up.. But it was real, and so was his first feed.

#[ koda ⸻ intro. ] #dih.intro

[containatrocity]

THE DESPERADO: VICTOR "ZIGGY" CALHOUN

Outrunning karma, that boy He's such a charmer. All the bugs and their larva, follow him out to Colorado. Ten dozen hearts in a bag Their bodies lying, he'll drag them down to Colorado- A modern desperado.

"Victor Calhoun- most everybody just calls me Ziggy. I'm 40 years old, and Huntsville born and raised. Up til about 12 years ago, I called Huntsville home, and as an enforcer for the local biker gang I made certain our crew was paid out to on time- through any means necessary. In April of 2012, I was arrested as an accessory to murder, And served a 10 year sentence in state prison. I've been a free man for the last eight months, and have taken a job as a long haul truck driver. But I guess that's then, and this is now. I live in town, with no job to speak of. My greatest vice has always been my Haste to act out in violence when the going gets tough."

Name: Victor Robert Calhoun

Aliases: Vic, Bear (Among the Devil Dogs), Ziggy (From the other truckers at his company.)

Age: 40 (January 22nd.)

Sexuality/Gender: Bisexual Cis Man

Personality: while previously a violent, unkind young man with a propensity for bullying, harassment, and a full-willingness to get involved in a physical altercation as a way to pass time- it was the murder he'd be sent to prison for involvement in that would change him entirely. After ten years serving a sentence and doing his level best to keep his head down, he's come out the other side largely repentant, desperately trying to flip the karmic scales back into balance with what he believes is very little time remaining- Huntsville being an inescapable Hell containing the people he'd spent his early life making miserable, however, seems to have kicked the sympathetic engine into overdrive- He's desperately clinging to a measured, calmer temperament, but old habits die hard, and he has a tendency to flick to violence if a conversation becomes too difficult to solve with words and he can't beat a hasty escape.

Occupation: Unemployed handyman, largely living off what he's made trading and helping distribute the supplies he arrived with to the townspeople, former long-haul trucker.

Affiliations: Ex-Devil Dog Enforcer.

Scent Profile: He smells of cigarette smoke and leather, the still-present smell of mass produced cologne and soap he's not yet run out of given the recentness of his arrival. Vaguely of dog, thanks to Cash, as well as wood-shavings and motor oil, always somewhat dirty with one or the other thanks to the much lower supply of things like clothes he'd had with him for the drive he was making.

Aesthetic: A perfectly lacquered guitar and a baseball bat cracked and splintered, the rumble of a Harley's engine and the low din of a biker bar, the stale smell of liquor lingering. Blood and busted knuckles, bite marks and scars earned in love and war- the devil's right hand, the muscle. The bite of metal handcuffs and the murmur of a courtroom- the foreman's verdict as good as a guillotine for your freedom. Something you can't shake, about the incident that put you here. A decade of bars, a bird in a cage with a cracked and broken beak. when the door's finally slipped open, you fly free- not for long, Karma circles back- a Hell tailored to you. New names don't destroy what you damaged to start anew.

He's never gonna make it, all the poor people he's forsaken, karma Is always gonna chase him for his lies. It's just a game of waiting, from the church steeple down to Satan, karma. There's really no escaping 'til he dies.

CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE POST PARADOX

An incredibly recent arrival to Huntsville, Victor Calhoun- better known now by his call-sign for the trucking company that employs him, "Ziggy," Has only been free on parole for a short time, not even a full year of freedom before winding up in Huntsville once again- a place he'd called home until his sentencing in early 2012. it's a momentary detour- intending to just drive through town and see what had changed in his absence while making a long haul trip in the area to deliver the first stock truck for a CVS opening in West Virginia- he found himself circling town in the dim light of the evening- Cash growing more and more uneasy alongside him in the cab, ears pinned back and gaze set on the forest beyond.

It's on loop 3 he begins to feel as if he might be going crazy- a mental break brought on by returning home- a HAM radio no longer pinging the dispatch for his trucking company- faces starting to appear out of houses and businesses, at the heady rumble of the truck's engine. It's only when he's waved to stop that he grabs the shotgun from under his seat and disembarks the truck- demands to know what's going on- and why everyone's staring at him. It's a former classmate who barks his name first. Oh fuck me, it's Vic Calhoun. Just leave him to the ghosts, Mayor. It's disbelief, as the sheriff explains what's going on and people who's faces he somewhat remembers eye the truck like a flock of vultures.

He plants the butt of the gun in the chest of one of the approaching townspeople headed for the truck's back hatch hisses at them to fuck off- listens to whispers, murmurs of interest- of concern, about a commune, about the town- about the mayor. His head spins- He listens to Nat.

It's been only a small handful of days, now, and he's settled in his childhood home- parents long dead, brother just the same- he supposed it explains why they never wrote. His ownership over the keys to the freighter and the shipping manifest remains his only real leverage, for now, and while he's happy to help- He's made it clear that he's not about to let himself be screwed over- insisting Nat and Sunflower "work their shit out" and come to an agreement for the supplies split before a war breaks out over something only he can open...

and he wants first dip, of the townsfolk, of course.

#v.threads #v.aesthetic #v.headcanons #v.music #v.bio #huntsvilleintro #Karmic Retribution;

[frosty-the-killer-doll]

POISON MARY FLAMEBIRD HEADCANON AU GO

OKAY SO WE ALL KNOW MARY HAMILTON IS BASED OFF BETTE KANE WHO COMICS-WISE IS KNOWN AS BAT-GIRL, FLAMEBIRD AND HAWKFIRE.

In the Arrowverse, she doesn't have a codename (not even as tech support like Overwatch) until she becomes Poison Ivy 2.0, AKA Poison Mary.

Now, we have to contextualize Mary growing into a more prominent vigilante field worker (like Luke's journey) through the lens of her own self atonement. Alice took the fall for her crime and Mary let her. In what we now know as the series finale post-cancellation, even Alice is trying to recover and become better. So Mary decides she needs to do the same.

to ME, Poison Mary's abilities weren't completely wiped out. They went dormant and grew weak enough that its power didn't conjure dissociation, but it's still there, festering, waiting to burst out if she's under the right amount of stress.

Killing a guy, running a clinic, both your sisters leaving you, your closest friends not telling you about their homoerotic tension until they were already together, the guy you like finally accepting his PTSD, and a new big bad popping up from the desolate part of Gotham they bombed sounds stressful enough, right?

The new big bad is their fucking fault... that news crew getting attacked is their fault... Mary does not like it when bad things are her fault.

SO when her powers do start to pop back up again, she is obviously terrified. Convinced she's going to hurt someone, again. But she's not dissociative or obsessive or too powerful. She doesn't feel a pull to Poison Ivy. Her powers have become her own. So she chooses to use them wisely this time around, and protect Gotham from outside both the Batcave and the Clinic.

Remember when Hawkfire had pyrotechnic abilities?

WELLL after a forest fire, birds can help a forest regrow. The bark is burned enough to make eating the inside of the tree quite easy. They spread seeds from elsewhere over the devastated ground. A slowly regrowing forest is basically what Mary's power level is at at this point, so... FLAMEBIRD.

ALSO to me Mary gets splashes of green in her Flamebird costume akin to these designs as a visual reference to her time as Poison Mary

and also look at this pic of Supergirl as Flamebird

BLACK AND RED LIKE BATWOMAN!!!!!!!!!!

I think Arrowverse Flamebird's color scheme would be mostly red and black to show her loyalty to and affiliation with the Bat Team but again some green for Poison Mary and some yellow in the red to imply fire

ALSO remember there's okay there's like a tumblr post about how characters should wear costume colors that aren't related to their superpowers so that it surprises people, and Flamebird having a name like fucking Flamebird with mostly non-nature colors on her costume WHEN SHE HAS FUCKING PLANT POWERS? ultimate surprise attack.

ALSO give mary hamilton a fire gun i love hawkfire's tech

#frosty answers #arrowverse asks #arrowverse polycule au #mary hamilton #bette kane #flamebird #hawkfire #bat-girl #bat girl

[havendance]

I think we should torture Dick by coming up with an AU where Tim's the one to get dealt the faked death/undercover in spyral thing instead. Like, congratulations man! You're the last one standing. (Well, except for Jason I suppose but Jason's probably causing problems on purpose.) You've won an even bigger than usual guilt complex. No, you can't opt out.

#this obviously takes place in a universe where they are still brothers who care about each other #bonus points if Tim 'dies' in a way that also allows Dick to conveniently blame himself for failing to save him #oh and this would also allow tim and helena to team up for spy shenanigans which is always a win in my book #dc #batman #dick grayson #tim drake #bats + birds + affiliated #last of the flying graysons #tim tag #carthago delenda est

[richardtrager]

Planned starter for @vampyrra

Richard Trager isn't one to fly in blind. He's a risk taker, sure, but risk involves come calculation, right? Everyone knows that. In the case of sniffing out who's got some loose change rolling around in their pockets or those select few whose billfolds are open and begging to empty themselves, it takes research. In fact, the Murkoff Corporation in particular likes to do some background checks on potential donors. They're looking for donation history, political affiliations, levels of education...bank numbers...socials. Who knows how deep they go? And who cares, really? The company likes to keep themselves informed and so does he. One of the many things they have in common. Richard doesn't have to dig too deep to understand what kind of benefactor they've got on their hands and he has approaches for each. Once he knows who they are, he has them. Doesn't take much work, truth be told. A little good cop bad cop routine, a little softening up, some big promises....and bingo!

In this case though, there wasn't much to find. He's used to people being PR trained, secretive, and selective with accessible information of course. He doesn't blame them! Who knows what kind of fucking sickos are out there trying to take a free peek in to your private life but he's never encountered a broad quite like this. There was plenty of information to be found on the woman. In fact, her name is plastered across seemingly every internet search remotely related to blood research...but there's a whole lot of nothing. Plenty of talk, no substance. He'd done his due diligence too. Even enlisted the help of some of the no names down in IT. Nothing.

So, tonight, despite his best efforts, he's going in blind as a bat. Kind of exciting, isn't it? A good old fashioned challenge. He likes that. "Think fast." Rick says, tossing his car keys to the valet without a second glance, passing the small line at the entryway to the Rioja and into the building itself. It's a nice place, the Rioja, a hotspot for the corporate elite and anyone who wants to pay $36.00 for a square of over seasoned chicken. It's cozy enough to (hopefully) get someone to open their hearts, minds, and checkbooks but classy enough that the atmosphere keeps you on your toes.

"Table for two....Trager." He says with a winning smile and holding up two digits, laying it on thick for the hostess. She's nothing to look at, but she's got the keys to the castle as they say and Rick wants to make good time getting to the table before Carlotti gets there first. As the hostess leads him in the direction of his table, the executive checks his watch. No problem, he's early by fifteen. His comfortable smirk is cut off as he looks up, spotting a woman, all legs, sitting at the table already.

"Wow! Look at you...," he says brightly, eyes already trained on the woman's severe features as he slides past the hostess and takes his seat. She is something to look at. "Early bird gets the worm, as they say." Immediately, his coat is hung over the back of his chair, revealing his suit beneath. He's chosen something colorful but classic for the occasion; a light blue suit with an even lighter undershirt. The suit pulls over to his right, buttoning with an elegant sash. He's chosen gold accents as well and boy is he glad. She's absolutely loaded by the looks of it and he has no problem matching her energy.

"You certainly know how to keep a man on his toes...I'm Richard Trager." He reaches across the table for her hand, intending to shake. "We've spoken over email! And...I may be wrong, but you might have had a chat with my assistant?"

#vampyrra #✄ ❮ ic ❯ —— ❝ let me sell you the dream ! ❞ #✄ ❮ verse ❯ —— the murkoff account #the vibes are just off m'lady

[ahalal-uralma]

Types Of Dragons

A list of Dragons that fly in honor of Dragon Appreciation Day (but not really, I was already making this post and procrastinating). This is for fun and I’m not claiming to be an expert on the subject.

Dragon : Germanic & English, mostly

Art Credit: Ciruelo Cabral

Key features: Serpent-like, winged and has four limbs. Generally smooth or scaly, but can also be hairy. They are large with muscled bodies, most of the time, but they can vary in size.

Often known for their fire breathing, relaying earthly wisdom, strong sense of justice and hoarding treasure. If you’re lucky, one might share a tale of their youth or regale you with a poem…but, they’re terrible singers.

They have a vendetta against sheep. Most likely to be residing in a cave, mountain or holding a princess hostage in a castle tower for arbitrary reasons. They like to amuse themselves at the expense of love-struck knights. Don’t ever ask one whose bones are wedged in their teeth.

Also, low key might be allies with the princess or a sorcerer (or both, and sometimes they are the same person). Dragons love eating fish and collecting gold. They’re easily distracted by shiny things.

Some well-known dragons in various forms of media include Draco (Dragon Heart), Smaug (Lord of The Rings), Dragon (Pagemaster) and Toothless (How To Train Your Dragon) just to name a few of them.

Amphithere: American, Mexican, North African and European affiliations

Artist Credit: Sleeping Fox

Key features: A serpent with feathers. They are large, but unlike the dragon are more lithe in form. They are winged and limbless (usually). Often mistaken for the Wyvern who has two limbs. Their wings can be bat-like with feathers or entirely feathered like a birds. They are the most colorful and stylish of dragon-types.

They are known for divine power, connections to spirituality, wisdom, being gate keepers and draining the life force of foes.

They are masters of grudges and will block your path to heaven for staring at their food wrong. They are incredibly analytical and intuitive.

There are not too many known Amphithere’s in media outside of Dugald Steer’s Dragonology and specific Mythos.

There is the Aztec God Quetzalcóatl who is accredited to being the creator of wind and rain storms. Additionally, he is perceived as the creator of humanity.

He is the God of education, arts, agriculture and science. He gifted humanity with cocoa beans and chocolate.

You can continue to read more about him here, here, here and also here to start you off.

Please be respectful and use this knowledge for curiosity and appreciation reasons only.

Devotes may not associate him literally with dragons, which is why I consider him strictly to be the possible inspiration for the Amphithere mythos. According to my research, he is still worshipped by the Cora and Huichol tribes.

Anyway, this wraps up for part one. If you’re wanting to learn anything more specifically then you can apply your own reading and research skills at your leisure. ♥️

#personal #dragons #reference #text

[officermaddie23]

Free Bird Bio

Name: El Macho

Species: Mutated Bat

Occupation: Wrestler and Gym Teacher at the dragon masters tech academy for the gifted and talented

Affiliations: The Zion Valley Stamped, Dragon Masters Tech, Watkins Automobile Inc, The National Wrestler League.

Family: El Toro (older brother)

El Macho was another successful test subject of the rage project of dragon masters tech he was also the test subject that gave info on different powers that a mutant can have while enraged. Even though he is not a member of the wings of fire he is still allowed to leave the facility (Klungo allows all of his mutants to be able to leave the facility as long as they have their illusion disk)

El Macho is also the gym teacher at the dragon masters tech academy for the gifted and talented. He might be strict but he's got a big heart and is understanding.

In the past his team has been sponsored by Watkins Automobile Inc. He did hear rumors about the school in Death Valley however he never thought that they were true that is until he meets the flock

@mellowwolflady He's part time wrestler and full time gym teacher

#fnaf security breach #maximum ride #maximum ride au #free bird

[calciumcryptid]

Earth-64 | Arkham Asylum Conservatory

The Arkham Asylum Conservatory is the primary home and base of operations for Poison Ivy and her affiliations. It is located in a naturally secluded area near Gotham City, NJ.

The Arkham Asylum Conservatory was used as a way to enrich patients, giving them access to nature and wildlife. It was removed from the Arkham Asylum circuit after Poison Ivy escaped and took it over as a new base of operations.

Despite the Conservatory belonging to Wayne Enterprises' head Bruce Wayne, he has made no moves to try and take back the land. No one can blame him though as it is hazardous to travel through due to toxic waste, poisonous plants that target those who identify as male, and plant monsters of Poison Ivy's own creation that stroll the grounds and protect the place.

The HarlIvy Household

Pallavi 'Pamala' Insigne | Poison Ivy

Pallavi 'Pamala' Insigne, alias Poison Ivy, is an eco-terrorist and known ally and enemy of the Bat Cauldron. She is a registered member of the Justice League, but only as a last resort call. When she is not committing crimes, she works as a botanist at the Gotham Botanical Gardens.

Harleen Insigne | Harley Quinn

Harleen Insigne, alias Harley Quinn, is a psychologist at Arkham Asylum and a chaotic anti-heroine. She is the founder and current leader of the Harlequin Gang, and an occasional member of the Suicide Squad and the Birds of Prey. She is registered as a member of the Justice League.

Raisa Insigne | Rose

Raisa Insigne, alias Rose, is a Sporeling (a humanoid plant) created by one of Poison Ivy's experiments. She is a member of the Spores, a trio of supervillainesses consisting of her and her sisters. She works as a fashion designer in Gotham City.

Talya Insigne | Thorn

Talya Insigne, alias Thorn, is a Sporeling (a humanoid plant) created by one of Poison Ivy's experiments. She is the leader of the Spores, a trio of supervillainesses consisting of her and her sisters. She works as a tattoo artist in Gotham City.

Harshada Insigne | Hazel

Harshada Insigne, alias Hazel, is a Sporeling (a humanoid plant) created by one of Poison Ivy's experiments. She is a member of the Spores, a trio of supervillainesses consisting of her and her sisters. She works as a stylist in Gotham City.

Lucille Insigne

Lucille Désirée Insigne is the daughter of Harleen Insigne and the deceased supervillain the Joker. Although Joker was unaware of her existence, Lucille spent a good chunk of her childhood outside of Gotham under the care of her aunt. Lucille is not a vigilante herself, but instead an online influencer known for her wacky ideas.

Mitra Insigne | White Mercy

Mitra Insigne, alias White Mercy, is an entity born from the dreams of Poison Ivy and Mongul. At first, they did not have a corporeal form but later managed to project themselves into a physical form that serves as a solid hologram. Originally Pallavi was unaware of their existence until Mitra was able to enter her dreams. Mitra is a student at Gotham University, and they are studying sociology.

Saul Insigne | Sumac

Saul Insigne, alias Sumac, is the only son of Pallavi and Harleen Insigne. He is a well-known flirt with a large and extensive dating history and a general thorn in the Bat Cauldron's side. Later on, Lian Harper extends an invitation to join her new team the Delinquents, which he graciously accepts.

@insomniac-jay

#dc au: earth 64 #oc: saul insigne #finally getting this one out of my drafts

[nephilim-tears]

𝓟𝓡𝓘𝓝𝓒𝓔𝓢𝓢 𝓐𝓝𝓓 𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓑𝓤𝓢𝓑𝓞𝓨

ᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Warnings: F! Reader, bat affiliated reader, menstruation, classism, food mention, Word count:1k.  ↳ Fluff:: Adri meets Alfred.  Browse my catalog?  You are responsible for the content you consume, as always read with care.

You lay motionless on the foreign mattress observing the ambiance of the small Airbnb, the barren room decked in its bare essentials completely doused in golden sunlight added a touch of softness to its otherwise desolate aura. 

Seafoam-like guilt washes up against your conscience waxing and waning on the surface, refusing to touch the footprint of shame left behind. An anniversary trip to New York had been your idea, you envisioned a sexy, fun, and adventurous weekend but alas, Mother Nature had other plans. 

“Oh good, my red panda is awake,” in strolls, your lover with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen; bad days from him are few and far in between. “Here, I packed these for you” His outstretched hands held a box of flex foam pads, Tylenol, and a miniature heating blanket which looked suspiciously like the one you have back at home. 

Your eyes scanned him perplexed, “How did you know to pack these? I didn’t remember to pack these.” 

“Our calendars are synced, I read all the notifications unlike some people” he smiles continuing,  “Besides, I always carry pads and Tylenol for you when we go out, just in case.” His casual tone made it sound like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Like he didn’t just wordlessly declare he loved you down to the bones; down to your atoms, like he wasn’t looking at you like you’d just spun straws into gold — precious, miraculous, and priceless. 

It had been a year since you’d gotten together and he still managed to sweep you off your feet, strange as his charm was it could disarm you in seconds, “I’m sorry I ruined our trip.” You sniffle averting his gaze. 

True to his nature like the sentimental creature he was, he crouched down beside you, his hands immediately found your lower abdomen applying light pressure to the area, “Hush, you didn’t ruin anything. Now lay back and let me do what I’m good at — taking care of you.”

Adrian pours a glass of water and hands it over with a pill, then he plugs the heating blanket in and covers your torso with it. Contemplating the glazed look in your eyes for a second, “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Alfred’s cupcakes,” you answered a little too quickly causing him to chuckle. 

Once he settled you in and was sure the meds had kicked in he had approximately five hours until you woke up. Enough time to make those cupcakes himself that was until he found himself blankly staring at the instructions and realized he didn’t know what made Alfred’s so special. 

Deciding this was indeed an emergency he scrolled through your emergency contacts which consisted of him at the top, Bruce, then Alfred. 

It’ll be a quick phone call totally not a big deal he thinks, he’ll ask for the recipe and be on his way. 

Much to Adrian’s surprise it was in fact not a quick phone call and Alfred invited him to the manor personally as soon as he explained the situation. 

He scribbled a quick goodbye note on the counter and subsequently grabbed his jacket and keys. 

Of all the Bats, his girl maintained that Alfred was the best among them. She revered the man as a grandfather so it’s imperative he made a good impression. 

The GPS guided him from the dingy, cluttered urban New York scene to Gotham, New Jersey. He drove up a hill past several affluent neighborhoods towards a secluded mansion hidden among acres of land that seemed to stretch on for miles surrounding the property.

To anyone else, the scene was picture-perfect, rustic, and serene; nothing to see beyond a billionaire’s love for his privacy and pine trees oversaturated in sunlight, however, Adrian was far from anyone else. 

Instinctively, he counted the security cameras disguised as birds randomly— no, strategically placed along the path, the animatronic movements gave them away, the birds were also not native to New Jersey. 

He tried piecing together what the security system might look like, or if there was a security system at all since it was a house of superheroes. Maybe if he tripped on an invisible cord close to the ground, all the bat kids would dramatically burst out of nowhere, guns blazing—metaphorically, of course, most of them did not use guns. 

At the center of the property, past four water fountains stood the isolated mansion, Adrian tugged his seat belt uncomfortably as he drove through the golden gates that opened without his request.

Sticking his hands inside his pockets, he could feel the rips and tears of the lining; he felt small and misplaced. If this house was a living organism, it would have jeered and stuck its nose up at his presence. 

Adrian knitted his eyebrows together trying his hardest to picture you as a child running throughout the mansion with a smile on your face. Were you allowed to play in the yard? Nothing about it seemed to suggest that a childhood had taken place here. 

Despite what was lacking, he couldn’t help but notice the abundance; it was a stark contrast to your living situation now—  with him. He pictured you as a young woman, elegant and sophisticated floating through the gardens. 

That was an image that painted itself clear as day, suddenly thought you growing up here didn’t seem far-fetched. He’s seen the way you effortlessly navigate the upper echelon, granted it was a means to an end on a mission but the point still stands; you belonged here. At the very least, he reasoned you’d be better off here; Bruce was a wealthy man and he was not. He could not provide what Bruce or his wealthy connections could, his stomach twisted into knots as he pictured you hanging off the arms of a comically stereotypical rich prick. 

Awkwardly he shuffled his feet together and contemplated leaving before he pondered on it, the decision was made for him. The doors swung open revealing a polished man in formal attire.

“Ah, there you are, Master Adrian.” A polite smile graced Alfred's soft features. 

The words circled Adrian’s head and weighed heavy on his chest suffocating him. 

It didn’t sound right to his ears, he wrinkled his nose and tensed his shoulders at the unearned— undeserving title, ‘Master Adrian.’ 

He wanted to correct Alfred to say: that he didn’t have a title, he wasn’t master of anything; his father walked out on their family and his mother worked three jobs to keep the lights on. In the same vein, they couldn’t afford to send him to college, so he didn’t entertain the idea; he wanted to say on occasions he had the same off-brand cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And that he exclusively wore his big brother’s hand-me-downs as a child and he still had some of his brother’s shirts in his closet.

Unbeknownst to Adrian, he didn’t need to say any of this, Alfred is fluent in many spoken languages, as well as the unspoken ones. 

Adrian didn't need words to express what his body was already saying; he said it with his eyes, he said it with the hesitation in his steps, and with the broadness of his squared shoulders. It was a look Alfred had seen before, on the gaggle of orphans that rotated through the oak doors of the Wayne manor; even the original orphan, Bruce.   

In his eyes, they were all born great, it’s the weight of greatness thrust upon them that keeps them anchored at the front door.  Alfred rests a comforting hand on Adrian’s shoulders, “It’s alright son, you do belong here, Let me show you the kitchen, I’m well versed in what our young miss enjoys.” 

Massive quantities of eggs, flour, milk, butter, vanilla, sugar, and baking powder are organized neatly on the marble kitchen island. Adrian’s request was to curb his girl’s cravings but it seems Alfred had plans to feed King Arthur and his knights should they stop by for dinner. 

“I can’t feed one without feeding them all,” Alfred sighs reading Adrian’s timid expression once more. 

Adrian rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands, and began following Alfred’s lead. His pink tongue caught between his lips in concentration as his keen eyes memorized every detail of the recipe.  

Under Alfred’s influence, the mixing and baking went on without a hitch and much to his amusement Adrian insisted on washing the dishes, all of them; tenderhearted, he watched the scene unfold and decided he liked the boy. Adrian is preceptive and selfless, hallmarks of excellent lovers, he thought that the moment he answered the phone, but seeing him up close further confirmed it. 

The cupcakes were golden and frosted to perfection, immaculately arranged in a glass Tupperware that Adrian held securely in his arms. He traced the engraved Wayne's crest on the lid and smiled, his pragmatic mission had taken a romantic turn, he was delivering a love letter to you. 

“I smell cupcakes.” Someone strolled into the kitchen, Adrian knew that voice, Damian. 

Damian’s smirk grew to a mischievous devilish grin when he locked eyes with Adrian. He lifted his palm in the air and high-fived him,  gleefully grumbling something inaudible, Alfred quirked an inquisitive brow at the odd interaction. Damian was standoffish with most people, strangers in particular. 

Three hours after he arrived, Alfred escorted Adrian to the door, and sent him off with a kind and genuine open invitation, “You’re welcome to visit anytime you like, son.” 

Adrian pulled him in for a hug, you weren’t kidding when you said Alfred was the best amongst the bats, he might be one of Adrian’s favorite people ever. Tears welled in his eyes, he’s overwhelmed by the hospitality shown by your paternal figure, he didn’t realize how much he missed the closeness of family. 

After he left, Alfred turned to Damian, “The young miss is in good hands, don’t you think?” 

Damian did not verbally affirm his stance but he couldn’t hide the small smile that etched itself onto his face. 

“Master Wayne, have you been previously acquainted with Master Chase?” 

“Yeah,” Damian bits into his cupcakes, “I visited them.” 

“I see,” Alfred connects the dots, eyeing Damian suspiciously “And did your visit happen to involve a missing dolphin from the Evergreen aquarium?” 

The unwavering smirk on Damian’s face spoke volumes. 

Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose, “What did you even do with it?” 

Damian shrugged casually, “Have you ever seen Free Willy?”

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x y/n #reader insert #adrian chase blurb #peacemaker #dc #vigilante x reader #vigilante imagine #vigilante x y/n #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne