#alfred

[gutter-mage69]

Keep Bruce there. Spread th’ word, mate.

‘M doin’ it.

‘Lo, Alfred.

Jus’ got th’ news now that your mate passed.

Uh.

*John awkwardly stands for a moment.*

I can offer me spell castin’ if ‘y want it. Or, wanna hold one me rats?

@gutter-mage69

he was my son..

Your magic doesn't bring people back from the dead does it?

If you are unable holding a rat might be comforting.

[cateyam]

Just the BatFam forgetting that Damian has a grandfather who was not obsessed with him on Bruce's side of the family.

Alfred: Everytime I see Master Damian, he always reminds me of his grandfather.

Dick, scowling: Ra's?

Alfred: ...You do know Master Wayne existed, right?

——————

Alfred, after knowing about Damian volunteering at hospitals: Master Damian really takes after his grandfather. Maybe one day he'll be a doctor too.

Jason, sputtering: Since when does the Demon Head Ra's al Ghul care about healthcare?

Alfred: I don't know, but I do know Thomas Wayne did.

——————

Alfred: Master Damian once mentioned he wanted to become like his grandfather.

Cass: ...Didn't he talk about how much he hated Ra's before?

Alfred: Sighs.

——————

Alfred: What do you think of Master Damian entering the healthcare industry like his grandfather?

Tim, screeching: NO!

Alfred: ...

——————

Alfred: Master Damian has his grandfather's face, doesn't he?

Bruce, squinting: Ra's...? No... not really. Well, not to me.

Alfred: I meant your father, Master Bruce. Have you forgotten that Master Damian is your biological son?

Bruce: ...Oh shit.

[thief-of-eggs]

Headcannon that due to diligently monitoring the Wayne family’s media image, Alfred is chronically online, and as such, is constantly dropping slang into conversation like-

(Over the coms)

Batman: Alfred, what’s the update on the Arkham situation?

Alfred: *Ahem* Unfortunately sir, it is as they say- ‘we’re cooked’

Collective groans from Tim, Dick, and Jason over the coms

Batman: …Huh?

Jason: *muttering* I knew I should���ve stayed outa this one…

Damian: I don’t understand, what are we cooking?

Alfred: It’s giving ‘failure era’, sir-

Dick: Damn it!

Tim: We really are cooked

Damian: What does that -?

Alfred: It’s lowkey not-

Batman: In English Alfred. Please.

Alfred: *Sigh* My apologies, sir. The Joker has escaped.

[hellsitegenetics]

I’ve come to make an announcement: Shadow the Hedgehog’s a bitch ass mother fucker. He pissed on my fucking wife. That’s right, he took his hedgehog fuckin' quilly dick out and he pissed on my fucking wife, and he said his dick was THIS BIG. And I said “that’s disgusting!” So I’m making a callout post on my twitter dot com: "Shadow the Hedgehog, you got a small dick, it’s the size of this walnut except WAY smaller." And guess what, here’s what my dong looks like: PFFFFFFFFGJT. That’s right baby. All point, no quills, no pillows, look at that it looks like two balls and a bong. He fucked my wife so guess what, I’m gonna FUCK THE EARTH. THATS RIGHT THIS IS WHAT YOU GET, MY SUPER LAZER PISS. Except I’m not gonna piss on the earth, I’m gonna go higher. I’m pissing on the MOOOOOON! How do you like that, OBAMA? I PISSED ON THE MOON, YOU IDIOT! You have twenty-three hours before the piss d r o p l e t s hit the fucking earth, now get out of my fucking sight before I piss on you too!

String identified: ’ c t a a act: a t gg’ a tc a t c. cg . Tat’ gt, t gg c' c t a cg , a a c a T G. A a “tat’ gtg!” ’ ag a cat t ttt t c: "a t gg, gt a a c, t’ t t at ct A a." A g at, ’ at g : GT. Tat’ gt a. A t, , , at tat t t a a a g. c g at, ’ ga C T AT. TAT GT T AT GT, A . ct ’ t ga t at, ’ ga g g. ’ g t ! tat, AA? T , T! a tt-t t t t t cg at, gt t cg gt t!

Closest match: Molanna angustata genome assembly, chromosome: 4 Common name: Hood casemaker fly

[invincibledc]

Imagine‼️

Chubby toddler twin!reader and Damian at daycare, maybe reader is baby waddling away. Making Damian go after them, but he isn’t waddling as he is a fast learner. Twin!reader waddles and trips, falling on his face. Going to cry as sniffles escaped his mouth. Damian huffed, crouching and mumbling words that only babies/toddlers know as he pats his brother’s head. Reader stops crying and holds his hand out towards Damian. Damian pulled his brother up with a huff since his twin is chubby. And the two twins go to walk together, holding hands as Alfred takes a picture from far away.

[spaceshiprocket]

Batman by Daniel Warren Johnson and Mike Spicer

[thesuperheroesnetwork]

Texts From Superheroes

Facebook | Threads | Patreon | Instagram | BlueSky

[jokin-around]

Day in the life 🦇

[deadsetobsessions]

Bruce didn’t come here often. Perhaps that was terrible of him but he couldn’t bear to visit his son’s resting place. It was difficult to equate his high-spirited son, bright as the sun itself and endlessly brilliant despite the more he grew up in, to the cold and lifeless stone engraved with his name and words that did not encompass everything his son was to him.

His hands were full of flowers, Jason’s favorite books, a round rock, and his son’s favorite foods.

Bruce didn’t come here often, because it broke his heart even more when he did, but today was a day that love and grief triumphed over his need to avoid.

He walked down the winding pathway, Alfred a silent sentinel behind him. He hated it, but he understood. Today was the only day Alfred allowed himself to be emotionally closed off. He’d lost a grandson.

Bruce didn’t come here often, but his son’s birthday was a day Bruce would remember how to love and live again, just for Jason.

“I will be over here, Master Bruce.” Alfred stopped at his designated spot, where Bruce had added a bench and a draping tree to shade Alfred as he stood vigil.

The first time they’d- it was April, and the sun- after the funeral, Bruce was lost in the throes of grief and had kneeled over the freshly tilled dirt for hours. Alfred had stood there, in that same spot, in the city’s rare blazing sun until Bruce came back to himself.

Bruce had almost lost his second father that day, and what good was wealth if it could not prevent that? And so, water, shade, a bench, and a space heater was added.

Bruce knows better than anyone how stubborn Alfred can be, when it comes to matters of the heart. After all, he didn’t have to raise Bruce after Martha and Thomas died.

“Alright, Alfred.”

Bruce splits from the haggard butler with pointed looks at the water bottles he’d prepared for today for Alfred (who manages, this time, a faint but amused raise of an eyebrow) and walks towards Jason Todd’s grave.

Here where his son is buried, the grass is kept green. In April, Forget-Me-Nots bloomed and dotted the place where Bruce’s world collapsed with bright colors. In August, it is still green, but the tin engraved with the names of the deceased stood out without the flowers.

Bruce kneeled and quietly arranged the flowers before placing them in the tin. He set the platters of food down and uncovered them. The scent of chili dogs made his heart stutter, flashes of a bright smile and book references blinding Bruce with their nostalgia.

He swallowed, grief building, and placed the stone he’d brought atop the gravestone. He sat back, gripping Jason’s book with white knuckles.

Bruce didn’t turn around when clothing rustled behind him. Alfred would have verbally cut down anyone that dared to approach them today, especially here. That he didn’t do so was telling of who it would be.

“I’m still mad at you, for not telling me as soon as you knew.” Dick Grayson sat down, hand over one of Jason’s school bag pins he had carefully attached to the front of his jacket.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“He deserved better. I should have been there.” Dick whispered, placing another bundle of flowers into the tin. It fit, but barely. “I would have dropped everything to come find him. Even if it wasn’t on time, even if it wasn’t enough, I deserved to be there when he was buried. We were family.”

“I know.” Bruce repeated, no less regretful. In his grief, he had wronged his loved ones. “I’m sorry.”

Dick casted a quiet, assessing eye at him. Bruce stayed quiet.

“It’s too dreary,” Dick said. He took out paints, little statutes of robins, bright birds, and bits and bobs Bruce knew Jason would have loved had he been alive out of his pockets.

“It should be more colorful,” Dick murmured as he placed them artfully against the headstone.

They sat there, for a while. Dick glanced at… at Bruce’s hand, and settled down.

It’d been a while since they’ve spoken, but he knew what the man intentioned to do today. This will be the most Dick will have heard Bruce speak outside of his civilian obligations.

Bruce took the cue and gently opened Jason’s book. He’d bought it for Jason- the first gift- and he’d read it to Jason every night. Dick had a similar book.

“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having little or no money in my purse…”

——

A boy with black hair and blue eyes wandered amongst the graveyard. They’ve been here for a while, and the man’s low rumble was soothing to listen to. The shades that hung about the graveyard settled as he read out loud from the book as his son sat quietly beside him.

As the boy, invisible and intangible, brushed his hand against the gravestone, he wondered why they were reading to an empty grave.

——

Dick had left long before Bruce did.

And when it was time to go, as stars began to climb and as the cold began to nip at his fingers, Bruce heard a quiet voice.

“Do not stand at his grave and weep,” and Bruce turned, recognizing the poem. “He is not there. He does not sleep.”

But there was no-one.

[sheiyavlad]

Supersons as parents part 3

(i know no one asked for this but these'll keep coming i have so many ideas lol)

[gameraboy2]

Batman (1966), "Batman is Riled"

[laxxarian-artcommissionsopen]

Danny swore he was napping under a tree at the park so why is he sitting at a dinner table along with other kids inside a mansion?

Answer: Danny was mistaken as Damian who was also napping under a tree

The kids didn't notice but Alfred and Bruce did, the three were staring with questionable looks

[cardinailed0]

It was a zine illustration, but the zine didn't get finished sadly 😔

Still like this one a lot

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Past Careers

pairing: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne (seperate) summary: They find about your past career as a dancer. warnings: fem!reader, slightly suggestive theme, (fluff), no y/n used a/n: sorry about my inactiveness again, my apartment almost burned down last night, but at least i got two weeks off! sorry about any errors, enjoy!

⁛ DICK GRAYSON

It was a total accident. He trusts you as a teammate and coworker in the vigilante field, but something about snooping in your files and digital footprint was so intriguing to him. You tend to keep to yourself most of the time, ignoring his playful remarks, and more or less funny quips. He doesn‘t know much about you, and he won‘t ask personal questions since he should learn to mind his business (that‘s what you told him). Despite his dying need to get to know you better, he won‘t let himself look into your life or vigilante career more closely.

Still, that‘s clearly not what happened this night at patrol. Once he got his hands on his device, he couldn‘t help himself and searched you up. Or rather, your files and somehow got his hands on your birth certificate, which made him learn your real name.

Without further waiting and a lot of guilty doubts, he searched and looked up stuff with your real name. Dick found himself a comfortablel spot by a fire escape, sitting at on of the stairs witha his tablet in his hands. The bright screen illuminated his face, his eyes intently studying the images before him, under his mask. His eyebrows shot up once he discovers a video, the caption being ‘Dirty Dancing in [ ] Club. Fire Show!‘. Of course he had to click on it, even if it was a possible scam, or something completely unrelated to you.

A typical jazz tune comes form the small speakers of his tablet, the camera being directed at the stage. The lights are low, creating a cozy atmosphere around the supposed club.

The spotlight focuses on the woman stepping on the stage, her steps confident, yet secretive. Her steps are in sync to the Jazz band, as she slowly removes her fluffy coat, teasing the crowd with her movements. Even Dick has to shift on the fireescape, keeping his attention to the video.

There‘s no way this is his actual coworker, who he sees almost every night on patrol. Clearing his throat, he continues to thoroughly study the video.

The dancer surprises the crowd once she throws her coat away to the side, the poor speakers of his tablet almost explode as the audience cheers and whistles, making him lower the volume. Now, you pose for the audience, your outfit not just revealing, but also gorgeous. It sparkles in the spotlight, hugging your curves perfectly and leaving little to imagination.

Dick feels his brain short-circuting for a second, having to process what he sees before him.

»I hated that song.«

He flinches, almost throwing his tablet away as he yelps from the sudden voice beside him. You keep your eyes on Nightwing, staying leaned against the railing of the fire escape.

»Oh, hey… fancy seeing you. I was just—« He visibly pauses and looks back down at his tablet before meeting your eyes again. »That‘s you?«

Finally, with a soft sigh, you nod and expect any kind of reaction from him. Either disgust, disappointment, confusion, but definitely not fascination.

He starts to give you a thorough review of your perfomance, although it mostly consists of compliments and questions, such as ‘Why did you never tell me?‘, or ‘How long? Can you tell me more?‘. You were in for a ride.

But he sure knows he found another thing he likes about you, except your skills in combat and ability to keep calm in almost every situation.

⁛ JASON TODD

He wasn‘t one to pry or be curious about ones personal life, especially when it comes to other vigilantes around his area. Sure, he tends to do check ups and make sure nothing is falling apart, but that‘s the most he does. Besides, you are one of the few he trusts the most about work. You both team up on missions, or patrol together regularly, and also have a similar kind of humor. Jason is glad you don‘t ask for more and also tend to be more private about other stuff, besides work.

It‘s not until one evening, he takes up on a usual research about another case, before he stumbles upon suspicious looking files. Surely, a small distraction won‘t hurt. He clicks on it, getting sent to another site with several files, which he soon learns, are personal information about certain vigilantes. He found the source of the current problem, but now he is growing curious as well.

Your vigilante name is on this list, and he wouldn‘t want your identity to be leaked so carelessly. Finally, he clicks on it and finds himself reading through important and sensitive information about you. Your name, address, family— hell, even your career choice before this.

He can‘t help himself, but look through it and eventually check on your past careers. The first few were normal, a waitress, barista, even working at walmart, but ‘professional dancer‘ wasn‘t what he was expecting. Luckily, there are a few videos attached.

Jason‘s hand almost crushes his mouse at the table as he takes in the rather seductive, yet slow movements of your body in that revealing outfit. After a minute in, he pauses the video and stands off his chair to pace a few circles around his room.

Eventually, he sits back on his chair and makes sure to get rid of all these accessible information, protecting your identity and others.

There‘s no way he‘ll approach this subject with you. Unless he is drunk, or completely sleep deprived, which makes his brain and mouth go loose. But surely, none of these will happen soon enough.

⁛ BRUCE WAYNE

He was simply making sure you are a trust worthy person, like he did with every other vigilante he knows and works with. It helped him prevent accidents happen, and keep himself safer that way.

As he reades over your files, he‘s gathered nothing much but your harmless appearance and rather normal life— compared to most others. He didn‘t consider looking into your past careers, until his growing curiousity got the better out of him. The list was rather short, just a couple average jobs most people did at least once in their lifetime, until the last one made him blink a few times.

‘Professional dancer‘?

Sure, it‘s nothing bad, or negative, but it still made him question it more than the others. What kind of dancing did you do? Soon enough, he found some clips of your perfomances across the internet. Some captions were questionable, but he still wanted to take a look at it.

There‘s was the quiet music playing from the speakers, he made sure to keep it low. It looked promising, it didn‘t look cheap, but it didn‘t look too professional either. The stage made it clear that the location was most likely at a bar. Bruce watches, the frown on his face almost faltering once you get on stage and start your perfomance. He shifts ever so lightly in his seat, keeping his eyes on his monitors while you give a rather… suggestive dance. Your moves are graceful and teasing, which make the crowd cheer louder each time you strike a new pose or move.

Alfred clears his throat from further afar, spooking Bruce the slightest bit. He pauses the clip and gets rid of the site, making sure to keep his calm demeanor.

»Master Bruce, I am unsure of… that clip, but I am here to inform you about Mister Freeze‘s new attack.«

Bruce nods his head and gets off his chair, his mind being occupied with everything other than whatever Mister Freeze has planned.

Luckily, he gets his head straight, focusing on his actual duties and makes sure to pointly ignore Alfred‘s questioning about the video. Of course, he will try to make you talk about your past dance career, as well as keep further images out of his mind.

←MASTERLIST

taglist₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.

@143637-hrrm @dollyure @ibreathesmut @dreamzaremyrealityy @aceoffates

[invincibledc]

TODDLERTWIN!READER IMAGINE‼️

ToddlerTwin!reader who is trying to ignore toddler!damian who is pulling on their sleeve. Damian had accidentally ate reader’s last cookie, making the toddler puff and huff. Damian then starts to cry loudly, not liking the silent treatment as Alfred picks Damian up. Damian glares at Alfred while yelling “no! Down!” As he pushes a chubby hand against the butler. Alfred sighs and puts Damian back down to not make the tantrum even worse. Damian goes over to his twin and sit down with a hard thump. Annoyed at being picked up, he plays with reader’s hand. Making the ticklish reader giggle. That soon makes the other twin, Damian laugh as he keeps tickling reader.

Alfred can only smile as he walks to the kitchen to make more cookies