#alfred is tim's dad

[wolfjackle-creates]

Something Next to Normal Chapter 2

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Summary:

Tim's having a regular day at school when a classmate ropes him into helping with the school play as the light technician. Tim agrees to one rehearsal, but his responsibilities as Robin keep him so busy. He knows he'll have to turn down the position. Then he learns what Next to Normal is about. A dead son, a mother who can't cope, a father struggling to keep everything together, and a forgotten daughter. Tim absolutely cannot do this. --- Alfred is proud of Tim for taking on an extracurricular. The boy spends so much time alone. Having an excuse to spend time with other students his age can only be good for him. He wants to go see the show, but Tim counsels against it. After looking it up, Alfred spends a night in sleepless grief. But when day comes and he's face-to-face with Tim, he realizes the living boy in front of him needs him and something has to change.

Chapter 2 word count: 4.9k

Content warnings: continuation of chapter 1. Discussions around loss and grief with an undercurrent of Bruce being a bad mentor to Tim.

We switch to Alfred's POV for this one which is another first for me. Hope you enjoy!

-----

“I am glad you decided to join the play, Master Tim.”

Alfred watched out of the corner of his eye as Tim shrugged and looked out the window of the car. “Yeah.”

Alfred sighed internally and wondered how else to get through to the boy. He was so much more reserved than either Dick or Jason had ever been. Tim kept quiet and made himself unobtrusive.

He was more similar to Bruce, but even Bruce had been opinionated and passionate as a child. He never held back his opinion, scathing though it may be.

“Perhaps Master Bruce and I could see one of the performances,” tried Alfred. “I believe you said they begin next month? What dates?”

Oddly, Tim seemed to tense at the question. “Oh, um. I don’t think that’s a good idea?”

Decorum, and the fact that he was driving, kept Alfred from furrowing his brow and examining Tim more fully. “I assure you, I’d be very interested in seeing your work. I enjoy musicals, whether put on professionally or not.”

“It’s not that…” started Tim before trailing off.

“Then why do you not wish for us to go?”

“I just. We’re doing a show called Next to Normal. Do you know it?”

Alfred hummed as he thought back. The name sounded somewhat familiar, but he’d certainly never seen it or listened to the soundtrack. “I’m afraid I do not.”

“It’s about… Just. Look up the summary. You don’t want to see it. And Bruce absolutely should not see it. It’s fine. But we perform the weekend before Thanksgiving, so I’m going to need Friday and Saturday off patrol that week. And maybe some evenings the week before depending on how long rehearsals run.”

“I’ll make sure to mark it in the calendar. How was the rest of your school day?”

Tim shrugged. “Fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Alfred let them fall into silence as he continued the drive to the manor. After a few minutes, Tim put in his headphones and tapped along to whatever he’d put on.

---

That night, after their patrol had ended and Tim had returned to his own house while Bruce climbed into bed, Alfred opened his computer and searched for the musical Tim had mentioned.

And realized instantly why Tim had said he and Bruce shouldn’t go. The musical was about a family struggling with the death of their son. The mother, especially, could not let the boy go.

Jason’s face danced behind his eyes as he read through the plot synopsis. “Master Jason,” he whispered. “Did you know what your death would do to this family?”

Alfred closed the page without listening to any of the songs and realized he agreed with Tim. He did not wish to see such a play. And it would be best if he did not mention anything about it to Bruce.

Besides, surely the boy’s parents would be back in town by then. It was just days before Thanksgiving after all, and they’d want to see what their son had been up to.

Mind made up, Alfred changed for bed and laid down for another restless night. One of many he’d had since Jason had been taken from them.

---

“Good night, Alfred!” called Tim as he prepared to leave the cave.

Alfred smiled at him and wished he could convince both Tim and Bruce that the boy should spend the night sometimes after patrol. He hated sending him away into the night alone. Even if he was just going next door. “Good night, Master Tim. Will your parents be worried about your late return?”

“Nah, they’re not home tonight.”

Alfred frowned. “Will they be returning tomorrow, then?”

Tim cocked his head. “I don’t think so, why?”

“To see your work for the school musical. Are they not interested in seeing what you’ve been working so diligently on this past month?”

Tim shrugged. “I mean, they are”—Alfred’s stomach sunk as he realized the boy was lying—“But work is keeping them busy. Can’t leave a dig site just to see some high school play.”

“I see.” Alfred did not see. Master Jason had been in one play, a small role as he had still been a sophomore, and Bruce had gone to all three performances the school put on. Everything else—Wayne Enterprises, the Justice League, even Batman—had been pushed to the side.

Tim, of course, didn’t know the direction of Alfred’s thoughts, and waved before leaving. Heading back to his empty house.

Once again, Alfred imagined leading him upstairs. Giving Tim a bedroom of his own and keeping him close and safe.

But then he looked over at Bruce.

Bruce was still in uniform, sitting before the bat computer. He hadn’t even looked up as Tim had left, let alone done something as cordial as say his own goodbyes.

“You could at least tell the boy ‘goodbye’ or ‘good night’ when he leaves,” scolded Alfred.

“He shouldn’t even be here. And the sooner he learns that, the better.”

“If you were more in control of yourself, perhaps he wouldn’t be here,” retorted Alfred. And the thought shot straight to his heart. Tim might not have been around long, but he’d wormed his way into their family just the same. His quiet presence in the dining room doing homework or researching cases was a balm on Alfred’s wounded heart.

Already, Alfred could not imagine life without his newest charge in it. But Tim was right, too. Bruce would not appreciate it if he spent the night.

Bruce barely wanted a Robin, he definitely wasn’t ready for another boy in the house. The odd night after Tim had received an injury on patrol was fine. But anything more permanent?

Still, Alfred couldn’t help but imagine himself bringing breakfast to a sleepy Tim who’d just come downstairs from his own bedroom. One day, perhaps, he’d be able to treat his newest charge the way he deserved.

The way his parents so clearly refused to.

Bruce had turned back to the computer screens, not interested in discussing Tim any more.

Alfred bit back a retort and retreated to his own rooms. Once more, he looked up the musical Tim’s school was putting on.

---

For the entirety of the next day, Alfred debated with himself. When he informed Bruce that he would not be making dinner that night and got in his car to drive to the school, he still wasn’t sure he’d actually make it inside the theater.

He sat as a stop light, mind still in turmoil, when the sign of a florist’s shop caught his eye. His blinker was on before he’d even finished reading the sign.

Due to Bruce’s issues, Tim hadn’t spent much time at the manor, but Alfred had gotten him to stick around a few times. Especially just before and after his European training tour. He’d come over to report to Bruce then stay for an afternoon with Alfred. The two had spent many a lovely hour in Alfred’s gardens.

Alfred pulled into the parking lot and entered the store. The attendant greeted him and asked if he required any assistance, but Alfred waved her off as he examined the premade bouquets.

The roses were proudly displayed front and center in every color. Tim had spent some time in Martha’s rose garden, but they’d never truly captured his attention the way they had Alfred’s.

In fact, one of the first questions Tim had asked had been which flowers were native and which were imported. Alfred had been almost ashamed to admit he’d planted flowers he’d loved as a child so most were of English and European descent.

Tim hadn’t said anything critical, but the hum he’d let out was as damning as any of Bruce’s.

The very next day, Alfred had asked if Tim would like to help him plan a new garden for the manor consisting solely of native plants. The boy’s eyes had lit up and he’d begun researching flower breeds on his phone immediately.

So when Alfred saw the small selection of bouquets featuring Black-Eyed Susans against a side wall, he didn’t hesitate to walk in that direction.

Only one bouquet combined the yellow of the susans with the red of coral honeysuckle and columbines. Enough greenery was mixed in with the flowers to fill it out very nicely—all native flowers in Robin’s colors.

Alfred didn’t even look at the price tag before taking it to the checkout counter.

“Oh, good choice!” said the cashier. “They’re all native flowers, you know.”

“I know,” said Alfred. “The person I’m getting them for has an appreciation for native plants over foreign ones.”

“So does Laura, the owner. She’s big into conservation and is so disappointed that people don’t tend to buy the native flowers as much.”

Alfred hummed and glanced down at his bouquet again. “Tell her she should consider labeling this the Robin Bouquet. Native flowers for a native hero, might entice more people to buy it.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s brilliant. I’ll absolutely let Laura know. Thanks!”

With a quick goodbye, Alfred resumed his trip to the school. Though he made a mental note to return to the florist in the future.

The closer he got to the school, the harder his heart beat. Would be actually be able to make it inside the building? When he pulled into a parking spot at the school, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then he forced himself to let go of the steering wheel. A glance at the clock showed it was six forty-five. Fifteen minutes before the play would start. As he stared at the clock, a minute passed. Before he knew it, it was six fifty.

And so, not even ten minutes before curtain, Alfred strode into the school, bouquet clutched in his hand. Most everyone had already purchased their tickets so no one was still in line when he approached the table for one. He thanked the woman who gave it to him, but avoided interacting with anyone else.

When he entered the auditorium, he slipped into the back row. No one sat near him, to his relief.

Three minutes before seven, the lights dimmed and brightened and Alfred couldn’t help the fond smile. Tim really did take this seriously.

Then the play started.

Alfred cried. He knew he would. Dan’s song about struggling to help his wife cut deep.

But it was Natalie’s song that cut the deepest. It highlighted all his own failures in defending the newest addition to their family. Tim shouldn’t be forced to deal with Bruce’s moods, to manage him and keep him from killing himself.

When her mother told Natalie she loved her “as much as she can,” Alfred buried his face in his hands. Had they done anything to make Tim feel like anything other than a placeholder?

Alfred vowed, then and there, to take better care of the boy.

The musical continued, though. Natalie’s grief fading into Gabe’s ghost singing about how he was still alive. And Alfred couldn’t help but think of a closed door and a room that hadn’t been touched in months. Except for the times he caught Bruce sleeping in it.

Of the way Bruce’s eyes sometimes lit up if he saw Tim in the kitchen from his back, only to fall when he remembered Jason was dead. Alfred had only allowed it to happen twice before he started encouraging Tim to work anywhere but the kitchen.

By the time the musical had finished, Alfred’s handkerchief was wet with his tears. He kept his seat as the auditorium emptied around him before grabbing the flowers again and looking around for where the lighting office might be.

Which is when he saw a door only a few rows away open and Tim stepped out.

“Master Tim,” he called.

Tim stilled before turning to him slowly. “Alfred? What are you doing here?”

Alfred approached him and held out the flowers. “Because you have spent a month learning a new skill, and I wished to see you exhibit it. Excellent job, my boy. You did very well.”

Hesitantly, Tim reached out to take the flowers. “These are for me?”

“Of course. Flowers are traditional after a performance, are they not? And I remember you enjoyed these from our discussions this past summer.”

Tim seemed to notice what the flowers were for the first time. “Wait, these are black-eyed susans. And coral honeysuckle.”

“And columbines. All native flowers. And I thought the colors apropos.”

“Apro— what? What does that word mean?”

“It means fitting. That they are suitable to the current situation or conversation in some way.”

Tim nodded, but still didn’t look up from the flowers.

“Are you hungry? I know of an excellent diner nearby if you’d like to grab something with me. I must admit, I did not have dinner before leaving this evening.”

“Don’t you have to get back to the manor?”

Alfred sniffed. “I do believe Master Bruce can handle himself for one night. Tonight is about your achievements and I would like to celebrate them.”

Tim finally looked up at him, but the poor boy looked so confused. “I wasn’t on the stage. I really didn’t do that much.”

“My boy, without your work, we would not have been able to see anything that was done on that stage. Your contributions were vital to the experience.”

Alfred bit back a smile at the way Tim blushed and kicked the floor in embarrassment. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“Of course, Master Tim. Now, will you allow me to treat you to a late night dinner?”

“I— Okay. Yeah. That sounds nice. I just need to say bye to Mrs. V and return the key for the lighting room.”

“Very well. Take as long as you need; the diner is open twenty-four hours.”

Tim had Alfred wait with the flowers at the entrance to a hallway that led deeper into the school while he ran off to take care of everything he had to.

As soon has he returned, he shyly took the flowers back from Alfred. “Thanks again. You didn’t have to come. I hope the show wasn’t too awful for you.”

Alfred clicked his tongue and waved a hand dismissively. “Indeed not. I will admit it was a difficult show to watch at times, but I do believe it helped me realize a few things I had been neglecting. What was it Diana sang in the last song? I don’t have to be happy to be happy I came.”

Tim examined him for a moment, perhaps trying to see if he was lying. But after a moment, he nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure?”

Alfred wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders. “Indeed I am. Now come, let us get dinner.”

They sat in a corner booth, the diner nearly empty at this time of night. Tim was avidly reading every entry in the menu, biting his lip in concentration as he considered.

“Order whatever you like, Master Tim,” said Alfred, afraid Tim was trying to make a decision based on what would please Alfred rather than himself. “After all, tonight we are celebrating your achievements.”

“Oh?” broke in the voice of their waitress as she set two waters down on the table. “What are we celebrating tonight?”

Alfred smiled proudly at Tim. “This young man managed to learn how to operate the lighting equipment in his school’s auditorium in just one month so they could actually perform the musical. The previous student had to transfer suddenly, so he only had a week of training at that. And, as someone who has seen a number of professional performances, he did a wonderful job.”

“In just a month? You must be a very bright boy,” commented the waitress.

Alfred bit back a smile at how red Tim had turned as he mumbled his thanks and buried his face further into his menu.

“Well, I’ll give you boys a bit more time with the menus. But if you’re celebrating, I’ll let you know we’ve got some fantastic pancakes. Or, if you’re not interested in breakfast foods this late at night, our fried chicken sandwich is always a favorite.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” replied Alfred. “We will certainly take your recommendations under advisement.”

Tim waited until she’d left before asking, “What should I order?”

Alfred frowned. “Why, whatever you want, Master Tim.”

“But my diet? To keep up with, you know.”

Alfred clicked his tongue. “My boy, celebrations are chances to break any diet. You may order whatever you like, however much sugar or fat it may contain. I will happily pay for anything on this menu.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at him. “Even if I only order dessert?” he challenged.

“Even if you only order dessert,” agreed Alfred.

Tim hummed and looked over his menu again. “All right.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes until the waitress returned to take their oder. Alfred ordered the chicken parmesan. He bit back a smile when Tim ended up going for the pancakes, covered in fruit and whipped cream and chocolate sauce.

When they were alone, Alfred asked, “Master Tim, I must ask, what is your favorite song from the show?”

Tim froze. “Oh, um. I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Because I am curious. For myself, I don’t know if I have a favorite song, however, Dan’s song after Diana’s suicide attempt touched me deeply.”

“That one’s called ‘I’ve Been.’ Did you really like it?”

“Indeed. The young man who played Dan did a wonderful job of conveying his character’s devastation to the audience.” Though Alfred thought even if the boy hadn’t been a talented actor, he still would have failed to make it through the song without more tears.

Alfred could truly empathize with a person who continually pushed aside their own needs to help someone who was hurting more openly and destructively.

Tim grabbed his drink and took a long sip. “I… It was ‘Superboy and the Invisible Girl’ for me.”

Alfred’s stomach sank and he resisted the impulse to close his eyes in regret. Of course Tim related so strongly to Natalie. He’d seen the parallels himself while watching. They’d truly been ignoring Tim in favor of Bruce for the entire time the boy had been in their lives. “We truly do not deserve you, Master Tim.”

“What are you talking about, Alfred? You’ve been great.” He grinned, excitement clear, even if there was an undercurrent of confusion still lingering. “I still can’t believe you came tonight. I’ve never had someone come to my events before!”

And Alfred had to smile even as he felt his heart breaking. He vowed then and there that he would make more of an effort for Tim. “I wish I could have brought Master Bruce.”

But Tim just waved him off. “Oh, God no. That would’ve been a disaster! He’s been almost calm this past week. Only two hospitalizations. Seeing Next to Normal would’ve sent him spiraling again.”

Alfred wished he could refute the claim, but Tim was correct in his assessment. “And Master Bruce should be able to put his grief aside to support you the way you deserve. I am glad I was able to be there for you.”

Tim’s brows furrowed again. “I’m not his kid, though. He’s supposed to supervise my training, but that doesn’t include going to silly school plays or anything.”

“After everything you have done for him, both in and out of the suit, he should be doing the bare minimum to express an interest in your life. Has he even asked you a single question about the show?”

Tim shrugged and looked down. “He asked to know when and how rehearsals and performances would affect my nighttime availability.”

Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course he did. Well, let me offer my sincerest apologies on his behalf.”

“But why does it matter? I would’ve lied if he’d asked. Not like I’d actually tell him anything about the musical.”

“Be that as it may, he owed it to you to at least ask. And I shall be having words with him.”

“No! You can’t!” protested Tim, eyes wide with panic. “He’ll hate that.”

A creeping fear made it’s way up Alfred’s spine. “And what do you believe the consequences will be?”

Tim shrugged and didn’t say anything.

“Master— Chum. Please. What do you think Bruce will do should I speak to him?”

“He’s not going to do anything,” said Tim. Alfred couldn’t help but fear he was lying. “He’ll just start paying more attention and be harder on patrol. And things are going well right now.”

“How will he be harder on patrol?”

Tim shrugged again. “He won’t slow down so I can keep up. Then he’ll be mad I fell behind. He’ll keep a much closer eye on me and notice more of my mistakes. And I’m trying. But I know I’m not as good as J— as his previous protégés. So I keep not measuring up.”

The pit in Alfred’s stomach grew. How had he failed another boy so badly? Tim should not be worried about measuring up to Jason or Dick. He wasn’t them. And he was twice the detective either of them were, far more patient on stake-outs and he picked up on details both of them would have missed. “Listen to me, chum. If Master Bruce ever acts like that again, I want you to tell me. Immediately. Understood?”

Tim looked up in surprise. “What? Why?”

Alfred took a steadying breath. He did not want his anger to come out at all. Tim would likely not understand it wasn’t directed towards him. “Because Master Bruce should know better. You are doing a phenomenal job and I can only offer my most sincere apologies for not ensuring you knew that sooner.”

Before Tim could reply, their waitress returned with their food. “Anything else I can help you boys with?”

Alfred smiled at her. “I believe we are both quite satisfied, thank you. Everything looks positively delightful.”

She nodded and left.

“Why— why are you bringing this up now?” asked Tim after he’d taken a few bites.

“Because, my boy, I have been remiss in my duties.”

Tim shook his head vehemently. “No! You’ve been perfect.”

“Indeed I have not been. I love you, Tim. And I have done a rather poor job of showing you that.”

Tim’s fork fell from his hand and he stared at Alfred in open shock. “You— What?”

Alfred got out of his seat and knelt on the floor next to Tim’s side of the booth. He took Tim’s hand in his and smiled sadly up at the boy. “You came to me during my darkest hour and were a ray of light I could cling to. Tonight, I was confronted with my failures. I cannot change the past, but I swear to you, I will do better going forward. I love you, chum. No ‘as much as I can.’ Just, I love you. End of.”

For a moment, there was stillness between them as Tim stared at Alfred wide-eyed. But then his boy was barreling forward and sobbing into his chest. Alfred wrapped his arms tightly around Tim and held him close.

“Shh, my boy. It’s all right.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred noticed the waitress approach. She mouthed, “Is he okay?” at Alfred.

Tim wasn’t, of course. None of them were okay, but he smiled wanly and mouthed back, “He will be.”

She nodded and silently backed away, leaving the two of them on the floor in the corner of the diner.

Alfred didn’t know what else to say to Tim. He’d never been skilled at comforting grieving boys, no matter how much practice he’d gotten over his long life. After a few moments, though, he became aware that mixed in Tim’s sobs were choked off apologies.

Alfred brushed a hand through Tim’s hair. “There is no occasion to apologize, my boy. Take as long as you need; I won’t leave you.”

Despite Alfred’s assurances, it wasn’t long before Tim stopped crying and was pulling away. He rubbed his eyes against his sleeve and stared at the ground. “Sorry to ruin dinner.”

Alfred clicked his tongue. “The food is still here. Mine even appears to still be warm. You have ruined nothing, my boy.”

Tim shrugged and climbed back into his side of their booth. Alfred bit back a sigh as he took his own seat.

They’d both sat in silence for a minute when the waitress bustled back over with a pitcher of water to top off their glasses. “Anything else I can get you both?”

Alfred declined. Tim looked down, though, and said, “I’m sorry for causing a scene, Ma’am.”

She tutted at him. “None of that now. You’re hardly the first person to cry in this diner, won’t be the last. Why, just the other week, I had a woman cry on me about her ex there at the counter.”

Tim stared at his hands and nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Their waitress hummed. “You know, though, we do have one rule.”

Tim’s eyes were wide as he looked up at her in alarm. Hesitantly, he asked, “What’s that?”

“If you cry, you get a free milkshake. So, what’s your poison, kiddo?”

Tim blinked in surprise. “What?”

Alfred smiled at the waitress gratefully, then nudged Tim’s foot under the table. “Looks like you’re getting even more sugar tonight. What milkshake do you want? I believe they have quite the selection.”

“Sure do. Obviously we have the three standard: chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. But there’s also mint, butterscotch, rocky road, black cherry. Or you can mix and match. My son loves chocolate mint.”

“Um, could I mix chocolate and strawberry, please?” asked Tim.

“Course, kiddo. Be right back.”

“Now, Master Tim,” said Alfred. He waited to continue until Tim was looking at him. “I believe you said your parents will not be back yet tonight.”

Tim shook his head. “No. They’re coming back Tuesday.”

Well, at least Tuesday was before Thanksgiving rather than after. “In that case, I must insist you come back to the manor with me tonight. I should much prefer to have you close.”

Tim’s eyes widened, and he vehemently shook his head. “I couldn’t! Bruce would be so mad.”

Alfred didn’t let his anger as his charge show. “I understand you concern. However, I did not mean that I would bring you to a room down the hall from Master Bruce where he should see you should you need to use the lavatory in the middle of the night or some such.”

“What?”

“I have a suite of rooms reserved for my own use. Master Bruce does not enter without permission and I am permitted to bring anyone I wish or do anything I wish to them. I have a second bedroom in my suite. If you will take it, it is yours.”

“Bruce really doesn’t go there?”

“Not once in his life has he come by without my express permission.”

Before Tim could answer, the waitress returned with his milkshake. “Everyone feeling better now?”

Tim smiled at her as he took it, his face picture-perfect in a way that must have been trained into him. “I am. Thank you for your concern.”

She laughed. “Such a serious boy! You just take care now, okay?” Then she turned to Alfred. “And you look out for him.”

“I intend to, Ma’am.”

“Very good. Then I’ll leave you boys to it.”

Tim took a sip of his milkshake as the waitress left. Once they were alone again, Tim asked, “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you there, chum. I really will feel much better if I know you have a place in the manor you feel comfortable. And if you cannot feel that way with Bruce, I want you to feel that way with me.”

Tim stared at him a long moment, likely trying to detect any deceit in Alfred’s face. Whatever he saw must’ve satisfied him, because eventually Tim nodded. “Okay. I’d be happy to go home with you.”

Alfred couldn’t have stopped his smile if he’d tried. “Excellent! Currently, the furnishings are rather utilitarian. However, perhaps next weekend you and I can go out and purchase some things so that you might feel more comfortable.”

And back was that heartbreaking, wide-eyed stare. “You don’t have to go to any trouble for me, Alfred. I’m sure it’s just fine.”

“Nonsense. I want you to stay which means you must be comfortable. At the very least, you’ll want bedding that does not look like it was chosen by an old man. And I’m sure there’s some movie or band who’s poster you’d like to hang on your wall.”

It took all of Alfred’s skills, but he did get Tim to confirm his favorite colors at the very least. And he spent the rest of their meal discussing furniture options with his boy.

When they’d finished eating, down to the last sip of Tim’s milkshake, Alfred stood and held out his hand. “Let’s go home.”

And Tim grinned shyly up at him and took his hand.

-----

When I asked my friend @greensword101 to beta for me, he messaged me after reading that I did such a good job with the meaning behind the bouquet. I was surprised because I literally picked the flowers out based of their colors from a list of native Jersey flowers that @flipwizardstarlight (edit: fixed your username. Originally copied over your AO3 name by mistake) found. But, uh, he was right.

Black-Eyed Susans: In Native American folklore, the flower is regarded as a symbol of justice and truth. It is believed that the bright yellow and black petals of the flower represent the sun and the judgment of truth. Additionally, this flower is also considered a symbol of protection and can help ward off negative energy [source]. From another site: these flowers are considered a symbol of encouragement to stay strong and persevere during difficult times. They represent the idea of resilience and the ability to overcome obstacles [source].

And how perfect is that for Robin and Tim's Robin specifically? Totally unintentional.

The line from the musical that Alfred paraphrases actually goes, "And you find out you don't have to be happy at all,/ To be happy you're alive."

Which, just. Ouch.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

[tiger-grace]

Superman: I haven’t seen you at the watchtower for a while. Where have you been the last few weeks, Batman?

Bruce: Rehab.

Superman, worriedly: Oh, I’m so sorry- I never knew you struggled with that. If you don’t mind me asking, what for?

Bruce, grimacing as he watches public footage of Signal and Red Hood starting a dumpster fire out of Pro-Joker merch: ..adoption.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

Alfred, after Robin and Batman return from patrol: Master Bruce, I expected it from you. But you too, Master Dick?

Dick, holding kid Tim like a rabid racoon: In my defense, if we didn't get him, someone else would.

[d-1hater]

honestly one of the main reasons I like dc is that they can’t keep a storyline straight for shit. anything I don’t like is just *not real*. that’s different storyline babes what are you talking about???

like at this point I can consider shit like wfa and hell even well written fanfics as canon bc who knows what’s going on with those funky little people?? certainly not the dc writers

[91-1lover]

Bruce: About the elephant in the room

Damian and Tim: ....

Bruce: Anyone wants to explain?

Tim:Not really, no

Bruce: I'm not mad, I'm quite impressed actually

Bruce: How did you put her in my living room? And what is she doing here?

Damian: Grayson missed Zitka

Bruce: So you put her in my house? How?!

[trashmakerarticle]

Everyone thinks that dick was the golden child when in reality it was Jason.

Clark: Bruce who was your favourite robin?

Dick: obviously it’s me?

Tim: it’s dick

Damian: I am superior robin, it will be me.

Bruce: it’s Jason

Everyone: WHAT?!?!???

Bruce: why are you so surprised? He didn’t jump on too my chandeliers which I had to replace each week

*everyone looks at dick*

Bruce: he didn’t drop out of school

*everyone looks at tim*

Bruce: I didn’t have to stop him from killing everyone who annoyed him

*everyone looks at Damian*

Bruce: in fact, he enjoyed school and handed all his homework in on time, we would spend hours in the library reading his favourite classics. He even helped Alfred with most of the cooking, He was my little boy

Jason: stop spreading lies, I hate you go away

Bruce: my precious little boy

[spicy-apple-pie]

Did you know... this is part 52 of Adopted Damian... That's a full year, which is crazy! Thank you for everyone who's been sticking around for the ride!!

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Commission Info / Kofi

[bruciemilf]

More thoughts about cigarette mom! Thomas and Bruce HERE WE GO—

I just. I love mean dad Thomas, man.

Not mean in a way that makes Bruce feel small and worthless and insignificant, no, —

Mean in the sense of refusing to sugar coat and coddle because this is Gotham, and he can’t.

“Bruce I am NOT buying you that dumbass squeesh-mellow bullSHIT. Cause it’s 300 bucks, that’s why! We’re rich, not STUPID. You want it so bad, how about getting a JOB.”

Bruce is 5 years old and 4 feet of nothing and every inch his mother, which is why he could swallow the universe whole, Alfred thinks,

“I’m too CUTE for a job!”

“Well, babe, you can either be cute, or you can be broke. When you choose, let me know.”

Bruce’s first job was being Martha’s model for paintings, bringing Thomas his Budlights after long nights at the hospital, and taste tasting for Alfred.

I feel like baby Bruce was such a brat and Alfred is trained for inhuman composure. It’s kinda like watching a baby kitten try to use claws they don’t have. “Are you ready to count to 10 now?”

Thomas, not even looking up from his newspaper, “Bruce! Boy, you better listen to Al if you wanna keep your teeth, you hear me?!”

Baby Bruce called the CPS on Thomas MULTIPLE times but it’s always been for like. Dad smoked in the house again even if mommy said not to and it bothers my dolls.

[voidlesscreator]

Alfred has a relative???

Recently, Alfred had received a letter from a 'relative' of his for reasons unknown to the batfam. Alfred seemed happy about it so none of them minded too much, even when the butler said that said relative would be visiting since they hadn't been able to see each other in many years.

A few days later there is a knock on the manor's door and one of the batkids opens it to see this young adult dressed in modern yet formal attire asking if Alfred lives there.

They assume that the man is a cousin or something similar of Alfred's, until the man all but squeals like a banshee at the sight of the butler and beelines for him before doting on him.

None of them were prepared for the young adult- if he even is one at this point- to call Alfred "his boy" and for Alfred to refer to him as "father/papa".

-----

*knock on the door*

Tim: *opens door* hello?

Danny: Hi, does Alfred Pennyworth live/work here?

Tim: Yes??? Why do you ask?

Danny: Well you see-

Alfred: Young master Tim, who might be at the door?

Danny: *Squeals* My little Alfie!!

Tim, watching Danny rush over to Alfred and start pinching his cheeks: what the-

[ky-landfill]

[ghostbsuter]

There was a teen in the cave.

A teen no one knows and looks like he could be a wayne, stands in the cave.

"Actually, I'm a wayne." He says with a shrug.

Bruce, Batman, carefully thinks of the implication.

"Not yet," The teen, Danny, doesn't say anything. Simple smiles. "You're not a wayne, yet. You will be. But not yet."

Then Bruce sighs, dropping the batman mask in order to take in the teen.

"Does future me know of the time travel?"

Dannys smile grows into a grin, deciding to take pity on the man. "You, grandbat, have..." He makes a vague gesture. "Theories, which none of your children ever confirmed."

The bat's mind short-circuits at the choice of words

Dick is sputtering incomprehensibly, there are Baffled expression all around.

Because.

Because that child isn't Bruce's, but one of theirs.

"Who is it?" Jason demands, hand clenching his gun uselessly.

Danny continues to smile, a hint of mischief now peeking out.

The cave is filled with theories, some yell, some sob, yet all eyes leave danny.

All but one pair.

She had known the moment his body language switched just enough for her to read.

She had known the moment he disappeared before the clan.

Had known when his hand found hers, shoulders bumping.

Her heart clenches, throat dry and memories of her childhood flooding to mind.

So she asks, voice soft and hesitant.

"Am I a good mother?"

And danny looks up at cass, adoration and pride laid out plain for her to see and accept.

"You're the best."

And so they both watch the clan together, silent and comfortable.

(Cass doesn't question when she finds him, how and why. All she knows is that she's more attentive when out on patrol, looking and waiting.)

(This is how Cassandra Cain-Wayne returns one night from patrol, a child, barely out of toddler stage and clinging to her form.)

(This is how the Batclan officially meets one Daniel James Cain-Wayne, freshly washed and clothed, a cookie in hand and hiding shyly behind Cass.)

(When they meet, all they say is "Welcome home, danny," and "Good to see you again.", Danny doesn't necessarily get it, but that's okay. Maybe his new mom will explain it one day when he's bigger.)

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

The Lost Condom

Synopsis: You were in the middle of a spicy time with your boyfriend, when something odd happened: the condom disappeared. Inside. Of. You.

The solution? Go to the hospital.

The problem? Your family didn't know about your relationship.

Pairing: Jon Kent X Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Only mention and slight description of genitals and sex, but nothing too explicit; All characters are aged up of course; English isn't my 1st language.

Word count: 1,8k.

Requested? Nah.

Extra notes: This isn't an original idea of mine, it's based on a real life story someone told me. Also the family finding out scene was inspired by this fanfic from @dccomicsimagines and this scene from Megamind. Also, eventually I will work on the asks waiting for me I swear 😭

General masterlist

So… You were in the middle of… Having fun… With your boyfriend… When suddenly, he said something that really confused you.

— Hmm… Babe… Where’s the condom? — Your head snapped back to look at him, since you were on all fours.

— Where's the ‘what’? — Your eyes were wide, unconsciously. Jon was blushing intensely, looking from your eyes to your entrance. He didn't know how to explain.

— I-I-I put it inside with the condom on, but now it's… Gone! — You narrowed your eyes. You watched him wrap and then enter you, you didn't feel him pull out at any moment, and even if he did, why would he tell you that he pulled out, took the condom off and then put it inside again secretly while you were still going at it?

You were both silent for a few seconds.

— Search for it! — You practically yelled at him, making him scramble to get off of you. You laid with your back down and legs open, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm down and not feel embarrassed. You felt him entering you with his fingers and searching around for minutes, grumbling and getting frustrated. The sensation was good… But you had bigger priorities at hand!

You huffed and changed positions a few times. A pillow underneath your butt, legs up, on all fours. Nothing worked. You even searched around the room and the bed, just to be sure. At some point, you both defeatedly decided it was best you go to the hospital.

The thing is, your relationship was still new, and no one in your family was aware. Lois and Clark already knew and approved, and you thought Cass suspected you were seeing someone, but you hadn't told them yet.

Especially Damian.

You and Jon knew each other years before Damian was even part of the family, since Bruce raised you since your birth — you were the product of one of his affairs, your biological mother didn't want to raise you, but she also didn't want to abort, so she and Bruce agreed that he would have you as soon as you were born — and he's best friend was Clark. Although, you didn't see each other much back then. It was after the Supersons became a team and besties that he started frequenting the manor more. You always had a childhood crush on each other — Jon thought you were beautiful and nice, and you thought he was cute and sweet, very different from the gross and rude boys from your school. —. Until you were each other's first kiss, then years later, first relationship, and first time. Of course, all in secret from Damian. The older family members only knew about your crush because of your physical language, but since you grew older and learned to hide, they assumed it was just a childish crush from the past.

Lois and Clark knew and approved, but they also always reminded you that you needed to tell Bruce soon, or at least Alfred, especially after you started being sexually active.

Unfortunately, the day came. Yes, you and Jon were old enough to have sex, but too young to be mature and brave enough to go to the hospital by yourselves. Lois was in another country for work, Clark was in the Watchtower in a League meeting, your dad was there too. Leaving the 2nd best option: Alfred — the best would be Lois, then Alfred, Clark, Cass, and then you would have to discuss which one of your other family members would it be.

Since you were in Metropolis — again, no one knew. More privacy wink wink —, Jon flew you back to Gotham, and you both almost cheered when you realized you were completely home alone, except for Alfred, of course.

Poor Alfred knew something was up when you suddenly were back from your “shopping trip”, with messy hair and clothes, red face and Superboy looking almost sick. He released a long sigh.

— Mx/Miss/Master (Y/N). Young Mr. Kent… — You cleared your throat.

— Alfred… We need help…

After you explained everything, Alfred looked ten years older. He didn't comment on anything, but his face showed how unimpressed he was. He just gestured for you to follow him to the garage, took the keys and started driving.

— Let me warn Master Bruce while we are-

— NO! — You yelled, started. He looked at you through the rearview mirror disapprovingly.

— Should I remind you that he will see the hospital bill and go after the truth? — You bit your lip.

— No, I know that. Just… Can't we pay on cash? — You smiled at him hopefully and nervously, but it was more like a grimace. Alfred was silent. You groaned. — I will tell him okay! Tonight! — Jon’s eyes snapped to yours, wide. — Relax! You're not gonna die!

— Yeah, until Damian whips out a kryptonite sword… — He groaned, hiding his burning face in your neck. You huffed, now wasn't time for him to be adorable.

— He doesn't have a kryptonite sword. Dad didn't let him do it. He would have to build it first. That would give him enough time to calm down. — Jon looked at you, indignant. Alfred cleared his throat.

— While we're there, I can't make any promises that if your father asks, I will hide the truth. He will know. — You and your boyfriend groaned, rubbing your faces with your hands.

— Yes, Alfred, I know…

Two hours later, you were finally laid down in position for the doctor to begin the procedure. Since if wasn't anything serious, you were on the emergency and there was only a curtain separating you from the rest of the patients outside. Alfred was sitting just outside, waiting, while Jon was standing by your side, holding your hand, as if you were about to give birth. The doctor was amused by your story, and her jokes helped you calm down.

She searched around you for a few minutes, the instrument she was using inside you being a little uncomfortable. Jon was silently horrified when he saw, you were startled too, but maintained the composure.

— AHA! Found it! It was really deep inside, almost on your cervix! — When she pulled out the condom, you both let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding.

You quickly put your clothes on again, you and Jon chatting as everything seemed lighter, and then left.

What you didn't know was that when Bruce got home and you and Alfred weren't there, it made him call, finding out just that you were in the hospital. Alfred refused to say much more than reassure him that it wasn't urgent and that he would soon know, thus he didn't have to crazily drive all the way there. That didn't stop him from alerting all your siblings.

When you got home, your whole family was there.

— Jon?! What're you doing here? — Alfred kept a straight face. Wow, he really wasn't going to help.

— Hmmm... — Jon subtly and subconsciously hid behind you. You shifted from one foot to another. Damian got up with a threatening scowl. You just came from the hospital. With a kryptonian.

— Kent! If you hurt my sibling I will-

— I didn't! — Jon almost yelled, then covered his face with his hands.

— Then, what is happenning here? — Bruce got up with a raised brow, analyzing the situation.

You thought for a moment. You either told them now and made things easier, or you spent all the way to dinner with them bothering you to tell. You could take it, Jon couldn't.

You took a deep breath.

— JonandIwerehavingsexwhenthecondomdisappearedinsideofmewecouldn'tfinditanywheresoweaskedAlfredforhelpandwenttothehospital.

They blinked.

— … What?

You huffed.

— Jon and I were having sex, when the condom disappeared inside of me. We couldn't find it anywhere, so we asked Alfred for help and went to the hospital. — You said, slower this time, although uma lower, more abashed tone.

Silence.

— … But… It was stuck inside? Weren't you wet, though…? — Tim's analysis broke the silence.

— SEX?! — Dick and Jason exclaimed.

— YOU WERE HAVING SEX WITH MY SIBLING?!

— Knew it. — Cass smiled and nodded, proud of herself.

Bruce heaved a sigh and sat down again.

— I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS! — Damian threw Tim's coffee mug in your direction and Jon zoomed in front of you. The mug broke. Jon had a sheepish expression.

— Tim, go grab kryptonite. — Jason ordered and got up, walking toward the hidden compartment in the shelf where he kept his guns. Dick held him back while Damian threw a flower vase at Jon.

— No! Don't do that, Tim. — Dick ordered back. Tim shook his head.

— I wasn't going to anyway… — He mumbled. Damian threw the center table.

— YOU ACTED BEHIND MY BACK! YOU TRAITOR! YOU- OUCH! PENNYWORTH STOP! — Alfred tutted, pinching his ear.

— I'm sure civilized conversations don't involve breaking the forniture. — Alfred shot a pointed look at Bruce. — Master Bruce! Say something! — Your dad just kept gazing at you and your boyfriend.

Cass sighed, stepping toward Bruce and sitting beside him.

— (Y/N)’s happy. He’s good. They're careful. — Bruce nodded, finally showing some reaction and looking pleased. Jason stopped struggling against Dick and looked at you.

— I don't care. I'm going to kill him. — Damian growled, starting to pace around the room in anger. Jon silently sighed in relief that Damian kept his distance by being on the other side of the room, the couch and the whole family serving as a barrier. You stepped forward.

— It's not casual. We've been together for almost two months now. — Everyone but Alfred and Cass gasped. Damian burned holes in Jon’s head with his eyes and your dad looked at you, masking his mix of emotions.

Cass tsk.

— So clueless. Many signs. — She shook her head.

— (Y/N), why didn't you tell us before? — Dick asked carefully, walking in your direction and stopping in front of you. Jon fiddled behind you. You shrugged.

— Didn't want to deal with you all while we were just starting things. Especially if it didn't work out.

— When were you planning to tell us? — You pouted.

— I don't know… In a month or two? You guys probably would find out by yourselves. — You shrugged.

— You've been sneaking out a lot… — Tim spoke up for the second time, catching everyone’s attention. He was fiddling with his laptop, likely doing his own investigation. The ones closest to Tim looked from the monitor to you again.

— When did you go to Metropolis?! — Jason exclaimed, indignantly.

— Hehe…

Damian growled.

— So that's why you've been ditching me?! — Damian pointed a finger at Jon, who scratched the back of his head.

— Surprise...? — Jon weakly sang the word.

Bruce cleared his throat.

— So that's why Clark’s been acting like he was happy he knew something I didn't… — He got up and pointed at you. — No more sneaking out. Ask permission before going anywhere. — You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. — Either that or you're grounded. — You pursed your lips and nodded in defeat. — Now we will talk about birth control…

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon

[vivianthepigeon]

Since Bruce was raised by a very British man he has some British quirks like calling the garbage “rubbish”, calling coats “jumpers” saying some words with a slight British accent, stuff like that

Edit: okay so apparently jumpers aren’t coats but sweaters 😂. Obviously I am not British mb💀💀

[theredcuyo]

You know, the thing a about shovel talks is that you expect them

If anyone is dating someone from the batfamily, at least one of the members is going to hunt you down for a 'nice little chat'

Maybe it's Bruce overprotective dad Wayne, who is scary because mind you, he's also the freaking Batman

Or, maybe Dick older sister complex Grayson, who in case you forgot, is a cop

Maybe Jason i love my family but you can't tell them Todd, who is a trained assasin, a crime lord, and can skip the no killing rule if he wants to

Perhaps is Cassandra I'm behind you and you'll know when i want you to Cain Wayne

Could it be Tim i love this family so much i forced the Batman to get me into it Jackson Drake, who, you know, figured out who Batman is at 9 and could probably get all the information about you and your family if he wants to in less than 5 minutes?

Maybe Barbara I already have all your personal information Gordon?

Or Damian i might not kill but know worse things than death Wayne who might be as emotionally constipated as his father but loves his family more than himself and will destroy anyone who touces them

Duke and Steph are more like actually giving a nice shovel talk, still scary, but more in the classic way

But, i for one, think that the actually scarier thing to happen (and that always will) is Alfred doing it.

Because he is the one who trained the Batman.

He is the one they all love and trust, and who they'd probably break the rule for.

He's just their sweet grandpa who maybe they tend to forget was a trained secret agent, and who is not bound to the no killing rule.

He's is the scariest one because all the others track, but if you said Alfred scared you NO ONE will believe you

[im-not-short-i-swear]

As a choir kid myself, i had a funny ass thought that came to mind regarding Alfred unintentionally forcing the kids to join some sort of music elective.

~~~~~~

When Dick sits down and asks Bruce for his thoughts on an elective Alfred casually goes “oh, i would love to go to your event/concert/play”

Dick hears this and chooses Theater. Alfred goes to EVERY play, Bruce only misses 2 plays because a villain is near by and he will not let them ruin his son’s play.

Jason, as much as he loves the classics, chooses some music elective. Because “I’m not Dick.” And even then Alfred makes it to every concert and Bruce also only misses a few meetings to deal with JLA stuff that he can’t miss.

Edit: Jason is a choir kid. He will not be like Dick, he will not do theater. But he loves musicals too much, so choir it is.

Unsure what the others would pick. But i feel like Damian would also choose Theater because “Richard will not stop saying i have to follow in his footsteps” even though he was going to pick that regardless. Because he in fact wants to follow in Dick’s footsteps and be a theater kid.

Edit: Damian gets more lead roles than Dick did. Dick is proud and not at all upset that Damian is a better actor.

Feel free to add more~

Edit: Addition from @leechlets as well as some extra from me

Tim is a band kid. Specifically Jazz band and concert band. (He hates marching band because he is always too sleepy)

Tim is smart, he learns every instrument possible. Trumpet, sax, tuba. He will play it all. Edit: Tim manages to be first chair for trumpet, sax, flute and clarinet.

Duke is the first triple threat. Choir, band and theater. Lowkey makes everyone else jealous.

Cass does color guard. So Alfred is at every football game. It does not matter if it’s a home game or an away game.

[puppetmaster13u]

Meme Prompt 10