#lazarus!tim

[ditzyredrobin]

Before and After

Chapter 1

For Whumptober 2024 Day 27, Before and After, Alternate universe

-

So, I guess I forgot to post this one here? Originally, this was just supposed to be one shot—Dick and Lazarus!Tim bonding but 4,613, chapter 2 is on the way. 😂

-

In a blink, the knife is out of his hand soaring across the living room, towards the intruder. All the while without dislodging the bottle from the fussy pup in his arms. After hours of crying—of soothing, and changing, and singing, and bouncing, and burping she had refused to go down until now and Tim was Exhausted™️.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed the black and blue costumed vigilante was another assassin sent by the League—Nightwing moved with easy grace, easing his way through the window, movement flowing like water and air. But not even the best of the League had managed to crack his security without electrocuting the shit out of themselves.

The room was illuminated by Friends reruns and the Gotham skyline peaking in through the crack in the curtains.

Nightwing ducked and weaved, only narrowly missing a knife through the delt. He rolled back to his feet without a hitch, shocking blue eyes wide and wild with the whiteouts down. The knife stuck in the wall with a satisfying thunk.

Without missing a beat Tim uttered lowly, “Breaking and entering is punishable offense. At the very least it’s C felony, at least 10 years in prison, and upwards of a $250,000 fine.” Not that he could actually get a judge in Gotham to prosecute without a hefty bribe.

Nightwing held up his empty palms in surrender keeping his feet firmly planted. “I’m sorry, we haven’t heard from you and I wanted to check on you.”

Tim discretely adjusted the cashmere blanket across his lap over the pup with a silent prayer she didn’t wake up. “Well, you can tell everyone I’m fine. If I needed help, I would have asked.” He snarks, adding. “But I didn’t.”

I don’t need a keeper.

But that was the thing about bats—they had a tendency to be too nosey for their own good, to pick, and poke, and prod until you were on the verge of wanting to pull your hair out and scream.

Boundaries? I hardly know her.

If Nightwing noticed, he didn’t say anything, opting to remove his domino and tucking it away, his brows were furrowed.

Tim knew how he looked—gaunt, deep purple bags under his eyes, cheekbones sharper than they should be.

Welcome to being a single parent.

“I know you didn’t ask but it’s what family does. I want to help.” Dick sounded painfully desperate earning an eye roll. “No matter what you will always be my little brother.”

Tim scoffed, “If I needed help I would have asked.” What part of he’s fine was not getting through that thick skull of his? Maybe it’s just all the years of vigilante-related concussions. “Maybe in another life we were family but I’m not your brother, Dick,” not anymore , “you don’t even know me.”

Dick breathed a heavy sigh, moving around the overstuffed couch to sit. It took everything in Tim not to bare his teeth and growl. “Of course I know you, Tim. You will always be my little brother.”

“But I’m not!” Tim finally snapped, startling Amalia awake. Her little lip wobbled, her nose scrunched, and Tim went into oh shit mode. Her wails made his inside twist and churn with the need to fix it , as she shook her tiny fists in anger.

He set the empty bottle down and adjusted her so she was upright in his arms to burp her. “Shh, ya Rohee,” he crooned, patting her back.

My soul.

She was his everything—his sun, his moon, to the moon and to Saturn. The only good thing that came of his time with Ra’s after the Council of Spiders and the Pit.

He could feel Dick watching him but didn’t look up, opting to instead rock his infant. She was small, even for a babe of her age, he still had a hard time imagining her anything other than fragile.

He nuzzled her, her patch of almost black, whispy hair tickled his nose, purring softly. It was a little uneven with disuse but it soothed her enough to bring her wails down to whimpers. She smelled milky and soft and like his . He did his best to ignore the hint of spicy incense underlying in her scent from her other father.

She was his and no one else’s. It would change in a few months and maybe he would finally stop seeing him in the shadows.

There was no way she was going down now but he’d lost all hope of that when Dick disengaged his security and decided to sneak in (an issue he would be working on a patch for later).

His eyes felt hot but he ignored it. He didn’t need a nap anyways, right? He’d worked more on less after all. This should be cake , right?

Eventually, as the pup calmed down, Tim dared to glance up at his unwanted visitor. There was a complicated expression that Tim couldn’t quite discern despite all of his training. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. I don’t even know who I am.”

For a long moment, Dick sat with that, a complex flurry of emotions crossed his face before settling on something soft. A fondness, watching the small pup in his arms. “You have a baby?” Talk about understatement of the century.

Tim rolled his eyes, continuing to pat the pups baby. “Yes, last time I checked I did, in fact, have a baby. I have the stretch marks to prove it. You want to see?”

Dick shook his head, “That isn’t what I meant. I just…How old is she? What’s her name?” He sat forward with his elbows on his knees.

Tim had to think for a long moment, back tracking the dates. The escape had been four days following her birth, still sore and as unsteady on his legs like a newborn fawn. There hadn’t been a choice—it was escape or lose Amalia. She had been born weak, words like failure to thrive had been tossed around. Ra’s Al Guhl was gifted with another disappointing heir.

“Well, Timothy, we’ll just have to try again, won’t we? Surely you won’t disappoint your Alpha a second time.” The or else was implied.

He had still been on his back, bleeding from the long birth. His milk supply hadn’t come in and the tiny pup wailed across the room with the wet nurse.

“Tim?” Dick sounded concerned, snapping him back into the present. His grip on Amalia tightened just a hair, her warm weight against his shoulder grounding.

“Amalia,” he said remembering the question. “Her name is Amalia and she’s-“ If he had been in Gotham for nearly a month, days before being found out and the trek from the Cradle to Gotham had taken around two weeks… “Her birthday is July 19th.” He said instead.

Fresh out of the Pit, time was hazy, seasons and dates made little impact on his life and Gotham’s perpetually gray skies.

Dick had a worried look on his face. “What about her other the father?”

“Dead.” Tim said succinctly.

That he made sure of.

Dick made a soft noise of acknowledgement, continuing to watch the baby with a fondness in his eyes. He didn’t push the matter. “She’s beautiful. You did so well.” He croons softly, “I’m sure it was hard for you.” He didn’t know the half of it.

“It was hard,” Tim admitted softly, basking in the Alpha’s praise. Finally, Amalia burped. “I had a few people that helped—Talia and an assassin I saved after-“ before he died, after the Pit, and before Amalia. “After. They made it easier but Talia wasn’t around often. I don’t think she was overly fond of what he was doing.”

“What about the assassin?”

Tim bit his lip, his eyes felt hot. “I don’t feel her bond anymore.” There was a bone deep ache without her. Whether she had cut it herself to save him, or really hadn’t made it out after Ra’s death, was all up in the air. “I’ve looked for her but-“

“But she’s part of the League.” Dick filled in and Tim nodded. He was quiet for a long moment before promising, “We’ll find her.”

Tim looked up from the pup quickly, “What?”

“We’ll find her.” Dick repeated with all of the seriousness in the world. “For you. I promise.”

Tim held his eye for a long moment, gauging the whether or not believe his words but Dick’s resolve never faltered. He felt his pulse pick up and a bright blip of emotion he didn’t want to think about. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. What about Batman? He doubt he’ll be a fan of having a member of the League in Gotham.”

“I’ll handle Bruce.” Dick promised. “Just focus on you and your pup. We will find her.”

Tim bit his lip nodding once. He didn’t trust it but maybe… maybe just this once he would try.

[fandomismylife]

A list of things that are in fact cannon in my own little batfam world

- “Are we getting Jason’ed???” Something you say when you think you’re about to die by the hands of the joker.- Coined by Steph, when she thought she was gonna die at the hands of the joker with Tim. Is now used by everyone.

- WWRHD = What Would Red Hood Do?- was coined by Steph, is now used in every situation possible by every bat kid.

- Evil Baha Blast = The Lazarus Pit- was coined by Duke, when he thought that saying the actual name might trigger Jason. Jason laughed his ass off for about 10 minutes and has not called it by its actual name since.

Will continue this when I come up with more.

Edit: Hey y’all I just wanted to let you know that I stole all of these from random batfam media I have consumed, I didn’t come up with them. Love y’all tho thank you for over 10k likes that’s INSANE. Anyway byeeeee

Edit Number 2: @trixter-god I’m fairly sure I got the “are we getting Jasoned?” One from one of your skits on Tik Tok and I just remembered. credit where credit is due.

[prlssprfctn]

Cryptid!Alfred, who is actually immortal. Like, he cannot die for forever - he did once, during the war, and after that... for some reason, he kept coming back, completely without any additional magical help. He sometimes dies again, and then mysteriously comes back on the next morning, as if nothing happened. Bruce used to it at some point, so instead of asking questions (Alfred has no answers, anyway) he just pretends that it is normal. He gaslights kids to think the same. Like, what do you mean he died, Damian? No, he is alrightish. Look in the kitchen, he is making us breakfast. It probably was just a bad dream.

So, when Jason dies and gets back? Oh, Alfred knows his grandson has the same curse/blessing. Because it wasn't the Lazarus Pit that brought Jason back after all, but some strange, unexplainable force. Perhaps, both of them are just bound to end up as guardians, as warriors and protectors - that's why they keep coming back.

...Nevertheless, it doesn't make their family less... anxious about the whole thing. These two from the other side? Oh, they absolutely enjoy their immortal hang-out hours.

Jason: What was your funniest death?

Alfred: I am going to say... that one time, when I was teaching young master Bruce using a hunting rifle, and he accidentally shot me. I came back in fifteen minutes, and, of course, a poor thing was sobbing, but afterwards he was doing all chores for a month. Wonderful days.

Jason: Damn, poor Brucie... My funniest gotta be that one time, when Roy and I got drunk, and I legit jumped off the building because I thought I can fly. Roy had never got sober that quick.

(The first time Jason dies on the family's watch)

Dick, sobbing: Alfred... Alfred... He died! His neck was snapped! How can I live-

Alfred, casually leaning to snap Jason's neck again: Wake up, my boy.

Jason, dramatically gasping for air: Damn, who made me a massage, while I was sleeping?

Tim: What. The. Fuck.

[somnoir]

Little star's favorite

It all started when Talia came to Gotham with a gift.

The gift in question was a twelve year old boy.

Bruce stared at the boy who was almost the exact replica of Damian if not for the blue eyes and longer hair. He looked utterly perplexed at the sight of Bruce, tilting his head before frowning at his mother with a visibly displeased look.

"Beloved, may I introduce you to Danyal, our Damian's twin brother. He was... Away... On a mission until recently." Talia hummed, a hand on Danyal's back.

"You... You didn't think to tell me about him when you told me about Damian?" Shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked down at the boy who looked a little more like him than Talia and felt himself softening. "Hello Danyal."

"Hello."

Talia smiled, before her expression fell. "A little warning, beloved. The twins do not get along. Damian is quite the competitive child and Danyal... Well, he's the nicer one if I must say." She shrugged, running her fingers through her son's hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Go on now, Najmi As-Sagheer (my little star)."

"Ummi... Must I join them? I am perfectly fine with remaining in the league." Danyal muttered, eye twitching but his expression was quickly schooled into neutrality.

"Yes, Danyal." She sighed, "I have no intention of letting father keep you."

Bruce raised a brow at her words.

"That is a conversation for another time, habibi." Talia lazily insisted, gently pushing Danyal towards Bruce.

Bruce, for all he's lived, immediately recognized a feral cat in the form a child. Yep. Another Damian. That was seemingly the nicer one.

But he was scruffy little thing who was being called little star by his mother. Bruce blinked, offering his hand to Danyal (like how a person would do by letting a cat sniff his hand to see if they were safe).

Danyal, more twitchy and annoyed than his brother, looked at the hand like it had personally offended him.

And that is how Batman brought home another child while holding him by the scruff.

(Danny hated everyone except for Alfred—both cat and butler)

Danyal was a much quieter person compared to Damian. Unlike his brother who had practically came into their lives guns blazing and declaring that he was the rightful heir to the bat, Danyal mainly ignored them. He would glare, snarl, and scowl, but not in the way Damian did. The kid was obviously threatened by them, but more for his own safety rather than inheritance.

He avoided them like the plague, only welcoming the company of Alfred and occasionally Cass.

He didn't join in on the vigilante business, opting to stay back with Oracle and just quietly direct them on their missions. It was strange in all honesty.

They didn't know much about Danyal, aside from the fact that his mother called him little star for his natural love of space. That he liked to tinker with gadgets and make his own weapons. That he really liked fudge.

Aside from that, the kid was quiet and was usually hiding out in his room.

Tim wasn't particularly thrilled to have another demon brat in the family. He avoided Danyal as much as possible expecting for the boy to be just like his brother and attack him.

But apparently not.

It's one of those unfortunate times that Tim's sleep deprivation and overload on energy drinks gets him benched by Alfred and not Bruce. No one particularly wanted to argue with their beloved butler/grandpa so Tim was stuck in place. It was a much quieter night than usual, almost peaceful (as much as Gotham can get).

Babs was relieved of her duties to have a night off, rest and relax and such, while Tim manned the bat computer in Oracle's place. He almost didn't notice the mop of black hair that suddenly appeared beside him.

Tim didn't want to admit it, but he flinched at Danyal's presence and how he was quietly standing there with a tray of coffee and cookies. Blue eyes blinked at him, silently pushing the tray forward to offer Tim the lone cup (most likely for him) and the plate of cookies.

Suspicious, Tim narrowed his eyes. "Alfred wouldn't make me coffee after benching me for this kind of thing."

Danyal shrugged, "Made it myself. Thought you'd need it since the others will be gone for a while."

"That's poisoned."

"It's not." Danyal frowned, immediately taking the cup and taking a couple sips himself before once again offering it to Tim.

Now, Tim wasn't stupid enough to ignore the possibility of Danyal having some tolerance to poison. But Tim was also tolerant to a lot of poisons so might as well.

When taking one sip, he was already feeling weird. One, there was no poison. Two, it was actually pretty good.

Danyal just sat there and stared at the screen, munching on cookies and pointing at the screen whenever Robin started to stray from the patrol route. Tim had a lot of fun reportingtattling to Bruce about it.

Eventually, it became a routine.

Danyal always sat beside Tim. Quiet and just offering random stuff, either food, some little gadget he made, or just the most bizarre stuff he found while at school.

Tim learned many things about his weird little brother. How cameras go crazy around him. How he had his reasons for not being touched. How Danyal was more silent than Cass. How Danyal vanished and reappeared at times.

(The glowing green eyes were the most concerning.)

He never really took notice of how Danyal started to gravitate to him. Always with him, barely without.

(Tim refused to admit that he was just the same.)

"Can I go on patrol with you?" Danyal asked, tugging at his Red Robin suit with a curious look. "I wanna meet Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn."

And Tim didn't really see much of a problem with that. Danyal was a highly trained assassin that Ra's apparently trusted to go on a solo mission while Damian had to be whisked away from the league. It wasn't too absurd for Tim to just shrug and let his kid brother tag along.

He was also very sure that his baby brother was an eldritch being with how the shadows seemed to rise around him. Yeah, the baby was a cryptid amongst a family of supposed cryptids. Very fitting.

It's a nice night. With Danny running amok with Tim, clearly having fun. But that one looks of sadness didn't escape Tim when Danny paused and looked to the sky with longing.

Tim remembers how Danny rambled about the stars in their shared moments, where it's just them.

Tim remembers how Danny would describe the sky in Nanda Parbar and how he often snuck out just to see it.

Tim remembers how much his little brother likes space and turns to the cloudy sky of Gotham that hides the stars.

Tim remembers how he was often depraved of the brotherly love he wanted. How he didn't get the full experience of having an older brother.

"You okay, little star?"

Danyal snapped his head towards Tim, eyes blown wide and flashing green (he knows that wasn't normal but he ignores that in favor to the way Danyal visibly softens at the nickname).

"'m okay, akhi." Danyal muttered, following after Tim after adjusting his own hood.

And it's like his heart stops.

Yep.

Tim has had Danyal for barely a year and he was willing to throw hands with Ra's, Talia, and Bruce for him.

"C'mon, qalbi(my heart). Batburger's still open."

He barely noticed the shift after that. But others think it's a glaring change that often made them stop and stare.

Danyal went to Tim whenever he needed anything.

If Danyal wasn't in bed, you'd find him snuggled up to Tim.

Danyal hated it when people touched him... Except for Tim.

Danyal liked Tim the most.

The day Dick thought it was a good idea to call Danyal 'Danny' (a nickname that was only used by Tim and Alfred), he almost got stabbed. Well, that's where all the stabbiness went to.

Safe to say, Tim was Danny's favorite.

And Danny was Tim's.

"Drake! What have you done to my brother?!" Damian pointed a katana at Tim, who lazily glanced his way before turning back to Danny who was comfortably snuggled up to him and watching Blue while Tim scrolled on Tiktok.

"I haven't done anything to Danny, demon brat. Now shoo!" Tim's irritation could be heard from a mile away, shamelessly shooing Damian away with a flick of his wrist. Then the next second, he was combing his fingers through Danny's hair and listening to his younger brother make a purring noise.

(Another point of investigation because that is not fucking normal, Tim. Cute though!)

"I refuse to believe that Danyal would prefer you over me!"

"You're just salty that he stabs you like you stab me." Tim waved him off again, watching as Danny yawned and continued to ignore everyone else.

The click of a camera immediately alerts him and he's tugging Danny down before the much younger boy lunges at Dick.

"Woah! What's up with him?" Dick nervously asked, instinctively raising his phone above his head.

"Delete that!" Tim snarled, pulling Danny closer and guiding his brothers face to his shoulder. "You know he hates it when people take pictures without consent!"

(Tim doesn't tell them that something goes every wrong with the footage if Danny was ever in the picture.)

"Dick." Tim warned, effortlessly picking up Danny, because yes, his seemingly cryptid baby brother could become weightless, and snatched Dick's phone. Yep. Instead of Danny, there was a very strange figure, a glitching silhouette of black and green. He deletes it immediately.

Dick was pouring, "I don't have any pics of Danny—"

"Don't call me that, Richard." Danny scowled, clinging to Tim like a koala. He was strangely more child-like than Damian, muttering about annoying people who interrupted bonding time. (Dick was just forced to pout.)

"Danyal." Damian crossed his arms, scowling at Danny who was still comfortably cuddled up to Tim. "It is not appropriate to cling to Drake in such a way! You will embarrass our mother and father if you are seen acting like a petulant child!"

Tim wanted to argue that no, he wouldn't embarrass Talia and Bruce by being a kid, but Danny just grabbed a cookie from nowhere (note to self, add possible teleportation powers to cryptid baby) and shoved it into his mouth.

Danny just yawned, fixing Damian with a lazy glare.

"Tuhali, can you shut up?"

Damian stood stock still, while Jason and Bruce choked on their own spit. Jason slapping a hand over his mouth and Bruce just staring at his twins like the apocalypse was about to return.

"What did you just call me?"

Danny yawne again, "My spleen."

Tim knew what Tuhali meant. Of course he fucking knew Arabic! But to think that his cryptid baby brother was straight up calling Damian his spleen?

The spleen that Tim doesn't have.

The spleen that's important to the immune system but you can survive without it?

Tim grinned, grabbing his cryptid baby and made a run for it.

Yep.

Danny was definitely his favorite.

Credits to: @strangergraphics for the dividers used.

[oh23]

[Damian, Tim and Jason on Patrol]

Damian: Tt, the flashlight won't work.

Tim: [smacks Jason's head]

Tim: Take off your helmet and open your glow in the dark eyes freak

Jason: ????????

[nightingale-prompts]

The Nightingale Family-DC x DP prompt

(Shameless Addams family inspired prompt)

News travels fast in Gotham, especially in affluent circles. A new family has arrived in the city, old money at that. They had taken up residents in the old mansion overlooking the Historic Gotham Graveyard.

The Nightingales had a way of letting their presence be known. They were rarely seen in public. The eldest Jasmine Nightingale however had made waves working at the Gotham Asylum as a psychologist. She was often escorted by her younger brother Dan Nightingale. The public really started talking when Jazz was seen talking with Harley Quinn.

There were two children that lived in the Nightingale manor. They were elusive to say the least as the family didn't attend the parties of Gotham.

It wasn't until Damian Wayne got an invite from his classmate Danielle to visit their manor that someone saw the lives of Nightingales. This invite had been received after Damian carefully befriended the youngest Nightingale to investigate their connections.

That's how the Waynes ended up at a dinner party.

The manor was bleak to say the least and that's saying something in Gotham. The buildingbwas made from black stones and gargoyles perched on the roof. The garden was wilted and full of thrones that crept up the walls.

Bruce felt a sense of Deja vu as he approached the door and rang the bell. Tower bells rang out as the face of Jasmine Nightingale appeared. She was dressed in black dress pants and blazer. Her lips were painted to match. Her red hair had a striking white streak through it which had become a fashion trend since the family's arrival to girls wanting to seem mysterious.

"Good Evening. It is so nice to meet the infamous Waynes." She shook Bruce's hand. Behind her, the sounds of clanking metal was heard. "That is just my younger siblings playing. You don't you boys join while I talk to your father.

Despite only being a fresh-faced 20 year old Jazz carried herself like a confident adult. A certified genius in psychology who graduated early she also handled the inmates at the Asylum well enough that escapes are at an all time low.

"She's got it all" was what Harley said.

Bruce's admiration of the young lady was only matched by his suspicion. The house the Nightingales lived y had once belonged to the Al Ghouls. There was no telling yet if there was a connection.

He took a seat in the living room with Jazz tea already prepared. She poured two cups of black tea. Not black as in the type of tea but the color of the drink. Bruce cautiously sniffed the black liquid, it smelled earthy and acidic. Poison.

"Do you like it? I made it myself. I added the belladonna myself. It has a sweet taste so you don't need sugar. The kids have sweet tooths but we avoid added sugars. They love nightshade." She smiled drinking.

Bruce put the cup down. So they drink poison at a young age. They must be part of The League of Assassins. But why are they here?

"If you don't mind me asking. Why did you move to Gotham? Your parents-" Jazz put a hand up as she finished her cup.

"Mr. Wayne I'm sure you are no stranger to parents leaving before their time nor the concept that not all parents deserve children. Now I can't confirm or deny if that is the case for use but you can understand that it's a private matter." Jazz said sternly.

That wasn't an answer.

Upstairs Danny and Danielle played with Elle's new toys. Swords from Dan's trip to Portugal. He even sharpened them. They were currently tearing through the mansion.

Tim and Damian caught them while Danny had successfully pinned Elle to the ground.

"Dami! Help!" Elle yelled catching Danny off guard as Damian tackled Danny to the ground.

"Alright, alright. You can go next." Danny rolling Damian off him and passing him the sword. "Im taking a break."

Danny loved playing with his little sister but baby games are tiring.

"They let you play with swords," Tim exclaimed. This wasn't something he expected, sure it was normal for Damian but Damian is weird and was raised by assassins. Damian didn't do it for fun, it was training.

Damian and Danielle ran off while fencing.

"You must be one of the Waynes. Elle has been excited to have your brother over." Danny said politely if not a bit dismissive.

"Eh, yeah. Your sister said we should join you." Tim said a bit awkward. " You have another brother right?"

"Oh, yeah. He travels alot but he's relaxing right now. He's probably swimming." Danny shrugged.

Tim had heard of Danny. They went to the same school but Danny was part of a program that allowed him to come to school when he felt like it. The program is for young engineers who want to work for Wayne Industries. He mostly worked on small experimental projects. So far Danny's superconductor tech was revolutionary but impossible to replicate. Danny somehow managed to make a more effective coolant than anything they had created in the lab.

"You have a pool?" Tim knew that the mansion didn't have a pool.

"Of water? No." Danny shrugged but gave no further answer.

"I see, so what do you do?" Tim tried to sound normal like he was talking to his friends and not someone he was trying to probe.

"Anything, everything. I was going to recalibrate my telescope but I have a laser to test." Danny walked off expecting Tim to follow.

Testing was just cut a bunch of things in half. Tim got some great info on making an explosive ice canister and foam bombs. Tim made sure to get his number to hire him to make some gear for him.

The Nightingale kids were absolutely lawless. They destroyed everything in their path.

Elle had dragged Damian to her room to show off her toys. She used to travel with Dan until she started school. She picked up a bunch of items. Cult artifacts, shrunken heads, voodoo dolls, cursed puppets, knives, swords, and the homemade taxidermy Elle made from roadkill. She also had a pet dodo bird named Ernesto who had a bed next to her bed. Ernesto took a liking to Damian and sat on his head. The way he shows his affection

Soon enough Dan came upstairs to check on Elle and Danny.

"You kids, need to get ready for dinner. Sharpen your nails and teeth." He said before going back to the kitchen.

"What does that mean?" Damian asked.

"You don't sharpen your nails. Well good luck at dinner." Elle said bemused.

Dinner was...horrifying. Watching the family chat happily as they ripped apart the moving food as it came to life. Damian was actually excited as he skewered the cheese and broccoli casserole that screamed at him.

"Father, why can't we do this at our home?" He asked.

[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-

[ditzybat]

kon: so i know i don’t age, but why don’t you age?

tim: might have to do with the massive lazarus pit underneath gotham that’s slowly polluting our water, which is why gothamites are constantly angry and why none of our rogues die - maybe idk don’t quote me

kon: WHATTT?!

[flamingpudding]

Can you write a fic about this if you can

https://www.tumblr.com/hello-eden/759003690226024449/is-it-a-enemy-or-a-child?source=share

Thanks for the ask, I will try! But first...

Link and credits to the original op: Prompt by @hello-eden

Now onwards! :D Hope you will enjoy....

-----------

Damian stared. There before him was no longer his Grandfather but a boy some years younger than him. He glanced over at his elder brothers. Richard was already on the coms reporting back. Drake was on his wrist computer typing away about something while muttering. He glanced back at the boy, suddenly realising that what he thought was his resemblance to his father could also be resemblance to his grandfather.

The boy before him, probably around the age six, had dark black hair with a white prominent sideburns, similar but far more prominent then Todds white forehead streak. The boy's eyes were not just the simple green Damian had been familiar with but one of the boy's eyes was red, heterochromia. Something Damian hadn't been aware his grandfather apparently had. All his life he had never seen his grandfather like this. The youngest that man had ever appeared had been 60, though Damian was acutely aware that his grandfather was far older than that.

But right now, there sat a six years old boy, his grandfathers ropes, oversized and barely hanging to the boy's shoulders, in the middle of the aftermath of one of his grandfathers plans backfiring. The boy glared at them eyes narrowed as he clutched the robes around himself, Damian noticed the shift in the boy's eyes, red and green wandering around but keeping them in his field of view. He noted how his shoulders tensed before they turned back onto them. It was clear his grandfather did not retain his memories.

"Hey there buddy." Richard, the one who probably had the best handle on small children among them stepped forward and Damian watched how his de-aged grandfather took a step back growling. Damian blinked, that was not what he had expected from his usually dignified grandfather, but then again, he was de-aged and a child.

"Where is mom?"

There was a pause among everyone and they could practically feel the drop in the air of reality hitting hard. With how old his grandfather truly was, there was no way his great-grandmother was still alive. Damian's head turned to look at his eldest brother, his eyebrow arched his masks on his face moving according to that. The silent question of 'now what?' Passed on towards Richard before he turned back.

"Some things happened, and we are here to help. You don't need to be scared of of, in fact it would be create if you could help us better understand-" He watched how his brother tried to gently explain the situation to his grandfather, a sense of strangeness filled Damian watching that seen but he snapped out of it as the boy cut Richard off with a small growl.

"Mom would never leave me. The only reason he would is if something happened to Ellie!" They stared and the conviction the boy spoke these words with, yet they all caught it the brave front the boy was putting on. The slight barely audible stutter, the wet sheen to his eyes as he stared back at them. It tucked at all their hearts. And Damian could accept it right now, this wasn't his grandfather Ra's Al Ghul, but a small boy lost and confused.

While Damian came to terms with the situation Tim caught on to something else. The boy before them asked about his mother, but then used the pronounce 'he', while Tim hadn't expected it that clearly indicated that Ras mother wasn't a simple female that might have died long ago. He had noted the use of a different pronounce that 'regularly' associated with the term mother.

Despite the show of hostility Tim crouched onto eye level of the boy. "Could you tell us your name, and age?" He tried to ask gently, the way he had seen Dick interact with children before. "We could help you find your mom then or maybe Ellie, if you tell us who they are?"

Tim ignored the looks his siblings were sending him and burning into the back of his head. It didn't matter if that was a small lie, they needed to calm the boy down and confirm information. While there likely was no doubt that this was Ra's, they still needed to confirm it, the de-aging happened to quickly before their eyes there was no guarantee that they really could completely trust what they saw.

Though judging by the glare the boy was now giving him, that had a lot of similarities of how Damian tented to glare at them at times. Tim could say there was no changes that, that wasn't Ra's. Still they had to proceed logically just to be on the safer side, in case this wasn't just a villain plan backfiring but a part of a bigger absurd plan, to appeal to their consciousness with the use of a innocent looking child.

The boy on the other and stiffened more, eyes darting towards each of them, then around the area before coming back to stay on Tim. In a way the teen hoped to see some sort of recognition. But instead he saw contemplation, the gears turning in the small boy's head as red and green eyes wandered over them once more.

"Dan."

Was the court answer they got after several minutes. Dick blinked under his mask glancing back at his siblings before at the child again. "What was that Buddy?" He kept his tone friendly and calm, anything to make the child feel safe at the moment, even if that child was Ra's Al Ghul.

"Dan, that's my name." The child version of Ra's, Dan spoke again eyes on them as the boy clutched the oversized robes around him tighter. Not speaking up more.

"Dan?" Dick heard Damian murmur, it was the least to say it confused them all but then again, Ra's was very old originally, he might have changed his names a couple of times during his life time so far. It wasn't like they could track down anyone anyway or keep to what Tim had told the boy, about trying to find likely already dead people for the boy.

"Anything else you want to tell use, Dan?" Dick ask gently in hopes to get anything more out of the boy but, realised a moment later that they hit a wall as the boy's eyes narrowed with dangerous glint. Something he tried not to react on as he had seen that kind of look from Damian before and dear god, this child version of Ra's was making them more and more aware that Damian was related to that man after all.

"That's all I am going to say." The boy growled a little, though Dick could still see the hints that all of that was just a brave facade to not appear weak before them. A mannerisms he remembered all to well Damian had for a long time when he first came to Gotham. A mentality of 'don't show weakness'. Dick sighed, this was going to be difficult to handle wasn't it?

Dan stared at the place these strangely dressed people had brought him too, by now he was wearing more fitting clothes instead of that oversized robe. Though the shirt and shorts where still to big for his current frame. For a moment he cursed his small build as he quietly walked about this 'safe house'. While Dan was no stranger to strangely clothed people or entities, he was wondering what he had gotten himself into as he watched them from the corner of his eyes. The last thing he remembered was being with his Mom and Ellie, they had just gotten back from a checkup with Frostbite and his mom had promised him that he was allowed a spar with Frightnight.

And then...

Suddenly he was before these people strangely dressed people in the mittel of what looked like a destroyed altar, robes that were way to big barely fitting him. While Dan acted bravely he couldn't help the childlike fear at the sudden change of situation. Frostbite had explained it to him and Elly, that because of now properly growing up their mentality would reflect on their actual ages now. It was annoying and by all means Dan didn't want to appear weak in front of potential danger, but his eyes still watered at the thought of his mom suddenly leaving him.

Sometimes he hated how attached he had gotten to Danny after all these years.

He glanced back at these 'heroes', his ears twitched as he tried to catch what the conversation the oldest of them was having on what appeared to be a earpiece communicator. Dan had noted that everything seemed, a lot more modern that what he was used to. It made him wonder if maybe something happened to the timelines again and he got flung into a different time. If that was the case he knew he could relax and just wait for his mom to pick him up, but at the same time Dan had a feeling that wasn't the case. There was no green post-it note from old Clockwork.

Keeping these people in his peripheral vision he angled his body away. One hand out to the side and definitely kept out of their side he tried to see if he could still access his ghost powers, he knew Frostbite had told them not to do that while they were still in a delicate state of re-aging but he needed to know, in case he needed to defend himself. It didn't have any Fenton weaponry on him either.

Dan hissed as a pain shot up his arm and he dropped trying to summon his powers, with a slight bout of annoyance. Okay Frostbites warning was valid, noted. Thought the next moment the kid dressed like a streetlight, Robin if he remembered right, snatched his arm up, inspecting his hand and Dan blinked for a stunned moment before growling. He didn't liked getting touched. He was just about to voice that when he froze.

Recognising something he hadn't before. "You...." He mumbled stunned. That kid had a ecto signature, it was weak, washed out and not really strong, but Dan recognised it and swallowed hard, it was similar to his moms and his own and Ellie's. Before he could comment on it more a gleam got his attention and suddenly Dan saw something else peaking out of the collar from the colourful dressed boy.

Without thinking Dan snatched it and stumbled back from the boy, inspecting the green, emerald like stone. The gold chain around it broke as he had ripped it of the others neck as he looked at it carefully, his thumb going over the smooth surface. While Dan did that he did not notice how Robin got held back by the teen from lashing out. He didn't noticed how the three 'heroes' seemed to hurriedly hiss and discuss something among themselves as Dan inspected the calling stone.

He would be a fool to not recognise this. It was a stone made from concentrated ectoplasm, it appeared like an emerald to mortals but in truth was made from his mothers ectoplasm. A calling stone, to call him when ever they were in trouble and his mom wasn't with them already. Dan clutched the stone, it looked different from the one he remembered his mother giving him. His head snapped up as he stared hard with narrowed eyes at the other boy only a couple years older. Noting some resemblances to Danny.

Suddenly he had the thought that maybe, just maybe Clockwork had sent him here on purpose. Because maybe these people had done something to his mother, to Danny, and maybe even Ellie too. Because why else would they have one of these calling stones.

"How did you get that? Where is mom?"

[tatzelbookwurm]

I tweaked some things that were bothering me about the first versions.

Again, these are from my fic, A Round Door Like a Porthole, Lazarus Green

[ditzyredrobin]

Before and After

Chapter 2

Let it be known, I had zero intentions on making this into a WIP, but 4,613 words later, I’m a little obsessed. Do I need another WIP? No. Do I have a new one now? Yes, yes, I do. 😂

For Whumpcember 2024 - Day 10 - “Let me help you.”

Chapter 1

-

Dick’s visit opens the proverbial floodgates for Bats to drop by unexpectedly and without warning (which rude).

When the doorbell goes off, Tim is up like a shot, heart roaring in his ears, chasing the tail end of a particularly grizzly nightmare, the metallic tang of blood and smoke just on the edge of his senses.

By rote one hand goes to his collapsible bo-staff under his pillow and his phone with the other.

No one was supposed to know about his apartment aside from Dick (if there was anything to be said, manners and personal space weren’t it and Dick? Was the walking, talking, personification of a word vomit).

He blinked blearily at his phone, opening the security feed of the front door, a sense of dread filling his gut. The apartment wasn’t rented in his name, utilities another, and packages were all directed to the Postal Annex in downtown Gotham under a third alias (Key word: contingencies).

But, when the security feed finally opens, it takes a long moment to process what he’s seeing.

It wasn’t ninja at his door or some other baddie flavor of the week it was—it was an elderly man dressed down in a well tailored suit, balding with a thin mustache and two very heavy looking grocery bags hanging off his shoulders.

Alfred, his brain supplied. It was Alfred.

Memories were still muddled and murky but there was something about Alfred that stuck out in his mind—a chuckle, a smile, a proper English accent, the scent of freshly baked biscuits and earl grey tea.

Tim glanced over to the sleeping pup still in the bassinet attached to his bed. She was swaddled just right, somehow still fast asleep at—he squints at the clock—11 am. She never sleeps this late—he never sleeps this late, normally too racked by nightmares and insomnia to get more than a few hours at a time.

What should he do? If he didn’t answer, would he eventually give up and go away? Odds are, if he let the door go unanswered, more Bats were sure to follow (because if Alfred knew, the rest of the Bat Clan would find out, if they hadn’t already). But the thought of going back to bed while he still had the option was tempting—just a little while longer, while Amalia slept before the cycle of change-feed-burp-soothe began again.

Tim breathed a heavy sigh and pressed the button for the intercom on his phone, “I’ll be right there.”

Alfred visibly perked up, glancing up to the security camera in the corner. “It is no problem, dear boy, do not rush on my account.”

His voice is like a balm on a wound that has been oozing, refusing to heal, soothing his inner Omega, settling his racing heart just a touch, his voice radiating safesafesafe.

That’s…unexpected. And not definitely something he wanted to prod with a hundred-foot-pole, Alfred in the hall or not.

Tim grabbed a pair of sweats from the pile on the floor, sniffing to make sure they smelled clean enough for company, and a faded Green Day tee. Good enough.

His industrial (read as: vigilante) grade scent patches were on the dresser nearest the door. He slipped on his slippers and shuffled over to riffle through the nearly empty box.

(Note to self: pilfer more from one of the many Bat-stashes the next time he’s out.)

He delicately peels one off the sheet and presses it to the scent gland to the soft meat of his neck, adding an additional to the scent glands on the inside of his wrists.

When Amalia woke, not being able to scent him would make her fussy, but he didn’t trust his emotions when dealing with Bats. And Alfred? Was a wild card.

Tim shoves his collapsible bo in his pocket before pocketing the baby monitor. Something about leaving her alone made his stomach churn. She was alone without someone to protect her. What if something happened? What if someone gets in and takes her?

…what if someone gets in and takes him? She would be alone for who now’s how long, starving and crying and his eyes feel hot.

His chest constricts. Nope, nope, not happening. Not right now.

She’s sleeping peacefully, her little chest rising and falling, deep in slumber, a hint of a smile on her chubby little cheeks.

His apartment was the most secure location outside of the Bats. In fact, since his last patch after Dick unceremoniously and unwantingly broke into his home, he would say his apartment is more secure than the Bats, second only to (maybe) the clock tower.

He could do this.

He could do this.

(In through your nose one-two-three, out through your mouth one-two-three, come on Tim, one foot in front of the other)

His eyes lingered on the pup for a moment longer before he finally forced himself to move, leaving the door open a crack.

He felt like a mouse caught in a glue trap, trudging his way to the front door, doing his best to ignore the piles of clutter and baby supplies scattered throughout the living room.

There was a pile of clean laundry yet to be folded, taking up the majority of the well-loved sofa and a mountain of dishes in the sink. If he’d known he would have company, he would’ve put in an effort to tidy, or at least shove things in the closet until Alfred left.

Tim made quick work of disarming the security protocols trying to pretend like his hands weren’t trembling. He still had time to change his mind—he didn’t have to let the elderly man in. In all actuality, he could go back to bed right now and pretend this whole thing never happened.

But Dick, he reminded himself.

Damnit.

Tim took another measured breath before inching the door open and with it, the warm scent of Beta hit him like a ton of bricks, filling his chest with a warmth he had only felt in his dreams. It was like drinking a hot cup of tea, the way it pooled in his heart, warming his chest and for a moment he felt like he was choking.

He couldn’t move, staring at the elderly man like he was a ghost, liable to disappear at any moment.

It seemed like Alfred went through something similar, a complicated mix of expressions crossing his face—disbelief, astonishment, sorrow, grief, anguish, before settling on something akin to relief.

“Master Timothy, I’m pleased to see you’re doing well. I’m afraid we had far too many leftovers at the manor and thought perhaps you would be open to helping us before they’ve spoiled.” The English accent was soft and comforting and it felt… it felt like coming home. “May I come in?”

Tim fisted the baby monitor in his pocket, a little part of him hoped that now, right this moment, his pup would whimper or cry, and give him some sort of out, but she didn’t. Damnit.

Slowly, he backed away from the door, allowing Alfred to come in, but said nothing. No hi, hello, or even, it’s good to see you, thanks for dropping in but, y’know, a call would’ve been nice. He had zero trust in what would come out of his mouth, so he stayed silent, watching.

With the Beta inside, Tim glanced out around the hallway for any unwelcome visitors, but the hallway was empty. Judging by the overabundance of Chinese takeout menus the past few months, most of this floor had been empty since he moved, back when he was newly back in Gotham, the tiny pup strapped to his chest.

Reassured they were alone, Tim shut the door and busied himself with reengaging the security, trying to ignore the way his hands were now fully, without a doubt, trembling. By the time all was settled and they were locked in, Alfred had already found his way into the kitchen.

If he noticed the dishes (let’s be real, when he noticed the dishes), he didn’t say anything, his sole focus on unloading the “leftovers”, which was beginning to look like a whole lot more than just leftovers. Multiple casserole dishes were carefully stacked, slowly but surely filling his fridge

“Thank you for helping us with these. I’ve grown accustomed to large family meals, but with master Damian out of the house more and more, it seems we have an overabundance.”

Tim knew Titan duties and university had Damian out of Gotham more and more. He had his choice of Ivy League schools and had ended up with early placement in the Cornell University’s College of Veterinary Medicine after graduating from GA a year early (as valedictorian, no less).

Dick was still in Bludhaven, social worker by day, Nightwing by night but came back to Gotham most weekends (or when he wanted to see Tim on random Tuesday nights).

Jason, on the other hand, from what he’d garnered, was with the Outlaws more often than not these days, back periodically for his heats.

Life had moved on without him. He didn’t blame them—couldn’t blame them—but there was still a bitter tinge in his chest.

Tim blinked and when his brain picked up again, Alfred was still talking.

“-thing is labeled with the ingredients and how to prepare each meal, I hope you don’t mind. It is a force of habit with master Dick and master Bruce. You know how they are.” Alfred mused, moving onto stuffing the freezer. “You wouldn’t believe it—the one time I left them alone for the weekend without enough instructions, I came home to a house full of builders.”

You know how they are.

Maybe he did, sometime in the Before. But now?

Alfred glanced over his shoulder and frowned. Tim isn’t sure what he saw but the Beta had a deep look of concern.

“Oh my dear boy,” slowly he closed the freezer, giving Tim his full attention. “Perhaps I should have called but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see you.” I didn’t want you to run.

Which, fair, but it made the ordeal a whole lot more complicated. The way Alfred spoke to him, it was like he was expecting the old Tim, the one who hadn’t been lost to the Pit.

“Did Dick tell you I was here?”

“He did not. In fact, he has warned others not to seek you out, including master Bruce and myself but-“

“But you came anyways.” It wasn’t a question. Alfred opened his mouth to respond but Tim was quick to cut him off, “You being here puts me at risk. How do I know you weren’t followed?”

By Bats, by what was left of the League, pick your poison.

“I assure you, I was not followed.”

“But how can you know?”

“Just because I’m not Batman, does not mean I’m oblivious. I do have a few special skills of my own beyond being the butler for the Wayne family.”

“That’s the problem—you can’t.” Bat or not, there was no way to 100% guarantee. “If you really cared, you would’ve listened to Dick and stayed away. I know you miss Tim but I’m not him.”

“Master Tim, I understand-“

“No, I don’t think you really understand, I don’t remember you. I saw you and I remembered your name, that’s it. Things are a little,” a lot, “hazy, after coming back. I didn’t choose to forget you—I remember blips, but memories are just, not there.” It was like someone had taken a scalpel and cut the out—really, there’s no telling Ra’s hadn’t. “I’m just not him.”

A smile, a stifled chuckle, the clank of fine china cups and saucers.

(I want to remember you—I need to remember you but I can’t)

Tim swallows hard, trying to shove down the sharp fear of rejection, of letting him down, or not being trusted that this is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. It makes his chest ache, and his eyes hot.

“Look I-“ and, the baby monitor finally goes off, giving him the perfect out—the soft whimper of his pup waking up alone without her bearer makes his inner Omega stir. “I’ll be back.” Please be here when I get back.

He doesn’t give Alfred the time for rebuttals, rushing off down the hall where Amalia is waiting, trying to pretend he isn’t running away with his tail between his legs.

-

“Computer, lights at 70%,” Tim called to the AI of his own design. The lights go on as Tim pushes into the room. His pup isn’t crying just yet, the soft whimper, a call to her bearer, a cry of changemeholdmefeedme.

“Shh, good morning, ya rohee,” Tim croons in League dialect, carefully lifting her out of her crib. She scrunches up in his arms like a little inch worm and yawns a yawn much too big for such a little thing. It makes him want to coo, and scent, and snuggle her forever in his nest, never letting her go. This is the best part, his favorite part of the day. “How did you sleep, my love? I’m sorry you woke up alone.”

She answers by blinking up at him with wide, deep violet-blue eyes, all his own. There’s still time for them to change from blue to vibrant green, just like her other father, but he hopes they stay. Just like this. All his own.

Tim just smiles trying to tamp down the thought. He—Ra’s—couldn’t hurt them anymore—he was dead, for good this time.

A sword, sawing through sinew and bone, severing his head from his body, the taste of metallic tang on his teeth as he ripped into his throat and the burn of smoke in his lungs.

There’s only so much the Pit could do and what he’d done? That was way beyond even its capabilities.

He just hoped that when the Bats found out, they took care of her, his life, his heart, his soul.

Logically, he knew the daughter of a vigilante and the former leader of the League was a vulnerable asset that needed to be protected. In the wrong hands—a chill ran down his spine.

Batman didn’t harm innocents. His choices weren’t hers so, by all intents and purposes, she was innocent. She didn’t choose her heritage.

Tim tucked her into his neck where normally his scent would be strongest. He just hoped he would keep her safe in his absence.

Amalia snuffled and nuzzled against his skin searching for his scent currently patched over. When she couldn’t find it, her little lip wobbled and clenched her fists.

Pups needed scent to help regulate their delicate nervous systems and they only left the house a few times a month for diapers and formula or groceries (and the occasional Bat safehouse break-in) so she was used to it near 24/7.

The fact that Dick caught him was a fluke.

Just before laying her down on the changing table, Tim breathed out, trying to still his beating heart, and lifted the scent patch up just enough for her to catch a whiff. Almost immediately she went lax in his arms, letting out a huff of air. Any chance of her crying was snuffed out in an instant.

Crisis averted.

Tim took a breath to calm himself and held her there, gently rubbing her back. He guessed, for just a moment, he could have this.

Alfred could wait.

-

Changed out of her swaddle and sleep clothes, Tim shuffled back into the kitchen, the same bitter fear of rejection in his gut. Amalia was settled in the cloth pack on his chest, smacking her lips, making it known that she was ready for breakfast. He, on the other hand, was not.

Breakfast meant facing Alfred but there was only so long he could keep putting it off—put off their conversation.

When he rounded the corner, it was to a clean kitchen. In the time it had taken to get the pup up, most of the laundry was folded and ready to be put away, including pairs of socks he hadn’t seen in months (how Alfred did that, he’ll never know).

The mountain of dishes had been diminished to a clean sink and the dishwasher running. Crumbs and spilled formula had been wiped away and Tim… all Tim could do was stare, a wave of shame is like cold water.

Thank god he’d reapplied the scent patch because this would be embarrassing. Luckily, the carrier smelled enough like him, that, for now, Amalia was settled.

Alfred finished folding a faded band tee and turned his attention back to Tim. Eyes were immediately on his pup and Tim waited for something. Shame? Disgust? But Tim found none of that.

Instead the elderly Beta’s expression softened. “I apologize, I seem to have gotten a bit carried while you were away. A bit of a habit, I’m afraid.”

Tim swallows hard, wrapping a protective hand around the pup, eyes drawn to the unimpressive greige carpet. “I’m sorry it’s been a long week and she’s been so fussy. If I’d known you were coming over I would’ve cleaned up.” His eyes were hot. He was not going to cry—he was not going to cry.

“Nonsense,” Alfred’s voice is gentle and insistent. “It is one of my joys in life to care for my charges. Trust me when I say this is nothing compared to young master Dick’s room, a few dishes and clean laundry is nothing in comparison to the ecosystem I have found on occasion.”

He could tell Alfred was trying to be humorous but it did nothing to ease his conscience. “I shouldn’t need to get caught up. I should’ve just handled it when it happened but I’m just…” Exhausted? Overwhelmed? Missing the pack he doesn’t even remember having?

“I understand and I mean this when I say, I pass no judgement.”

Tim risked a surprised glance. “How?”

Alfred smiled, “I wasn't always just a butler. I was a parent too once upon a time before coming to work for the Wayne’s.” He continued, “Believe it or not, I, too, have a daughter.”

“…you do?”

He nods, “I do, back in England—Julia. We don’t have the best of relationships. It seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I’m afraid.” He chuckled a bit sadly before changing the subject, “Now then. How would you feel about some breakfast?”

Almost as if at the mention of food, Amalia started to wriggle, very obviously done with their dilly dallying. Tim breathed a sigh and nodded. He didn’t normally eat breakfast but it was nearly lunchtime and his stomach was starting to make its presence known in a feed me or else sort of way. “Breakfast would be nice.”

Ding ding ding. By the look on his face, Tim answered correctly. Go him. “Will scones hold you over while I prepare something more substantial?”

“Scones sound…nice.”

Which is how they ended up in the kitchen, a plate of scones with clotted cream and tea in front of him while Amalia went to town on her bottle, ravenous. One little hand was on the bottle and the other fisted in his shirt.

Tim was sitting at one of the bar chairs glancing up at Alfred every so often, watching for something, anything to go wrong, (a dash of poison, or paralytic, Alfred disappearing into thin air) as he cooked up a proper English breakfast.

Before Alfred, his fridge had nothing more than some flaccid celery, a weeks old pizza from Rao’s a few blocks down, and half a bottle of ranch. Now, it was stuffed to the gills with fruits and veggies, eggs, and other household staples.

(No wonder his bags looked so heavy. How he carted them up five stories and a broken elevator was beyond him. Bats, am I right?)

“Her name is Amalia.” Tim said awkwardly after a few minutes of silence. “I don’t know if Dick told you.”

“Master Dick did not mention it but there was some…speculation, that something more was going on, on master Bruce’s part.”

An arch of dread runs through him, “Bruce knows?”

Of course Bruce knows. Why wouldn’t he know? He’s Batman. Alfred being here all but confirmed he knows about his apartment, too. And if that thought doesn't make him want to high tail it out of Gotham.

Hearing the hoarseness of his voice, Alfred looks up, “I am truly sorry. I should’ve listened to master Dick. This was your secret to share and I forced your hand.”

Tim shook his head, “I should’ve known, it makes sense, I just-“ he wanted to pull his hair out and scream. It makes sense. It’s just—he wasn’t ready for a boatload of Bats invading his nest.

Amalia was still so little. Being taken from her at this age… if birth trauma and the subsequent fallout hasn’t hurt her, this will. It could kill her.

“It isn’t alright.” Alfred sounded genuinely remorseful as he pushed mushrooms around in the pan. “I was being selfish and did not take into account the trauma you’ve been subjected to.”

Tim mulled over those words trying to tamp down his inner Omega stirring, wanting to reassure the elder Beta that it was okay, the wanted to bask in the feeling of being cared for. There were whispers of pack at the back of his mind.

Alfred had brought him groceries and meals—he was providing for him, showing he cared, but no, no, no. His arms tightened around the pup.

The old Tim may have been pack but that was Before and this is now—the After. Who wanted a broken murderer of an Omega? One that had broken the Bat Code of Conduct whose number one rule was don’t kill.

Alfred turned off the burner and slid the mushrooms onto the plate beside the eggs and sausage just as the toaster popped. Tim looked up briefly when the plate slid in front of him. After a terse moment, Tim said, “Thank you.” The weariness on his tone almost makes him flinch.

Almost.

“My pleasure, Master Tim.” His inner Omega preened at the title. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Tim glanced down at the pup in his arms, finishing up her bottle. And, before he could think the words slipped past his lips. “…do you want to hold her?”

Safe, the Omega crooned. He wouldn’t let Dick hold her but Alfred… Alfred was different.

At those words, Alfred’s face lit up like it’s Christmas. “Are you quite sure?”

No, Tim wanted to argue, while the Omega practically screamed, yes.

It would make eating easier and here, in his apartment, he was in control. The collapsible bo-staff was heavy in his pocket. In just a few steps, he could have him neutralized if he dared to do anything to harm her, but part of him just knew he wouldn’t.

Tim bit his lip and nodded, “Can you burp her? She isn’t rolling over just yet so she still needs to be burped.”

Alfred gives him a gentle smile, seemingly genuinely happy at the offer. “I would be delighted too.”

There’s a smile on Amalia’s chubby cheeks, kicking his little legs in delight when he leans down and nuzzles her. She laughs in delight, warming his heart and making it that much harder to let go. She smells content and full, making a grab at his too-long hair. “Just a few minutes, hayati, be nice for Alfred, alright?”

In true baby fashion, she squeals when he rubs his nose against her cheek. He finishes off with a a long kiss to her forehead, lingering on the scent of his pup.

It was getting stronger the longer they were in Gotham. She was getting stronger.

Tim carefully untangled her fingers from his hair, pressing a kiss to each finger before looking to Alfred who was standing in front of him, eyes soft. “I am honored you’re allowing me this opportunity. I promise, I will take excellent care of her.”

He didn’t trust himself to answer so he nodded and slowly passed her to his waiting arms, trying to remember to breathe.

At first, realizing she was changing arms, her little lip wobbled, but Alfred murmured something soft in her ear just for them, holding her close and she was all his.

He didn’t stray far, grabbing a burp rag from the pile of carefully folded laundry, staying in Tim’s line of sight. Close enough that if Tim suddenly needed to jump in, he was right there.

But she didn’t fuss. In fact, by the time Tim had plowed through his breakfast, she was burped and settled, her face pressed into his neck, milk drunk and content. It made his heart ache, wanting her back all the more.

He made quick work of rinsing his plate and dropping it in the sink for later. It was the first time in months his belly felt full and he felt like his battery wasn’t running on 5%.

Rushing back into the living room, Alfred had moved to the gliding chair, rocking the cooing pup.

He smiled up at Tim. It was all he could do not to make grabby hands for his pup—his baby. “You’ve done well with her. She is lovely.”

“Can I-?” Without needing to finish the sentence, Alfred carefully passed her back.

“You need not ask, my boy. I am grateful for the moment with her.”

With her in his arms, he could breathe again, squeezing her just the right side of tight to his chest. She was safe, he had her, she was his.

“She will always be yours. I would never dream of taking her from you.” Alfred assured standing up from the rocker. Oops. “I assure you, neither would Master Bruce.” Until he finds out about Ra’s. “Now, I believe you both have had quite the afternoon, perhaps if best you retire to your nest? I have a few things to finish up here and I will be on my way.”

His nest sounded nice but- “You don’t have to do that.”

“As I stated earlier, it’s no chore helping you with these things. Please, let me help you.” Let me help you. Tim’s eyes felt hot again. (Translated to: Let me take care of you)

He was not going to cry… not now, at least.

Okay. This was okay, this was, “Okay.” Tim’s voice is strained but Alfred doesn’t say anything about it.

Instead, he tentatively reaches a hand out, giving Tim enough time to pull away, but he doesn’t. He placed it on his shoulder and squeezed. It’s a warm and reassuring touch, grounding, and now Tim is actually going to cry. Damnit.

Tim has to blink quickly, trying to stave off the tears that will inevitably fall once he’s back in his nest and able to be vulnerable. His instinct is to lean into the touch, to sink and melt, and let himself have this one moment, but he can’t.

He can’t get close.

Tim goes rigid under his touch but doesn’t pull away and Alfred? Alfred smells…happy. Happy in a way that forces Tim to choke down a purr.

“Very good. I know that my coming here was unexpected but it was so good to see you.” He is not going to cry. “You don’t need to make a decision now, but it’s alright, I would like to come back, this time on a day of your choosing. It’s perfectly alright to say no but I’ve missed you so much.” His eyes are wet when he says, “Between you and Master Jason, I have never regretted anything more in my life.”

He has an out, the ability to say no, but what comes out instead is, “How does Tuesday sound?”

[bluerosefox]

Eldritch Kidnappings

hmmmm a Kon/Danny/Tim idea? Maybe? Depends if anyone wanna ship all three but leaving it open ended (or if Tim is already dating Bernard just make it a Kon/Danny only?). AND a deaged Ellie.

Red Robin and Superboy (the original) were at a JL meeting. It was boring to be honest. Nothing to much was happening besides the normal stuff for all the heroes there. No big crises or world/universe ending danger.

Or at least it was...

Because not soon after a glowing green portal ripped opened and a large eldritch creature stuck its huge head and half of its body out. Every hero there went on high alert and into fighting stances, ready to defend the Watchtower. Once the creature was halfway in the room its eyes snapped opened, glowing near Lazarus Pit green colored but like brighter? neon?, and darted around the room before stopping right on Superboy.

Without warning or words the creature quickly reached out, using at first two arms/hands before more sprang out and swatted away heroes in the room that attacked. It quickly took a hold of Superboy who tired use his strength to get free but found the being stronger than him. Red Robin, in a panic to save his best friend (and crush, shhh maybe) quickly joined in but instead of being swatted away like the others gets snagged by a hand and soon found himself captured as well.

Just as quickly as the creature appeared, it retreated back into the still open portal, dragging the two with and not caring at all of the powers, fists, or shouting being thrown at it.

Then it was gone.

Leaving the JL in a panic.

-x-x-

"-And thats why I need your help! I understand its a lot to ask but please, any help will be welcomed." the eldritch being, or rather Danny Phantom begged as he worriedly glanced at them.

So... It turns out the eldritch being was a young halfa ghost hero named Phantom that needed their help stabilizing his clone/sister/maybe daughter?

She was apparently melting and needed stable DNA when he had rushed her to a ghost doctor and was told. But Danny had no clue how to stabilize a clone and the fruitloop that cloned him the notes were bare bones and frankly terrible. In his desperate need for help Danny had sought out clues/advice from his mentor who basically pointed him to Superboy and Red Robin in his frustrating riddling way.

Superboy's DNA had the stable cloning gene/code they needed. Red Robin was smart enough to help figure out a way to put it Danielle 'Elle' Phantom. (it also helped that he had dabbled into cloning during his... bad year)

So yeah, Danny in his panic to save his clone went full on eldritch monster and opened a portal during their meeting and dragged them to the Far Frozen where Ellie was currently suspended in a ecto healing pod and was now begging for their help, promising them anything if they helped out.

The catch? If they put Superboy's DNA in Ellie she'll de-age to her true age and no longer be a 'pure' clone.

Instead she'll be their (Danny and Conner's) kid.

[shyjusticewarrior]

Do you think Jason calls Damian and Tim "kid" cause Willis called him that

[bigscotman]

Fic idea: You know that time Bane killed Alfred? It spreads around Gotham the Bane killed Bruce Wayne's kindly old butler in front of Batman to get to him, Gothamites as usual assume anything other than Bruce being Batman (Alfred was The Batman's actual father and raised him and Bruce together obviously), and the batfam collectively loses their shit and are all about as brutal as Bruce was when Jason died. Jason on the other hand is as clinical as usual as Red Hood which everyone finds odd since he was arguably the closest to the old butler even if you include Bruce.

Then one day shortly after Alfred's funeral as the batfam sans Jason are depressedly flicking through TV channels they flick onto the news and what do they see?

Jason is in his "Prince of Gotham" suit sans mask and domino at what looks like a press conference outside of the WE building and after answering a few cursory questions about what he's doing and how everyone is coping with Alfred's murder then Jason stares directly into the camera and challenges Bane to a fight, no weapons, just straight hands and to the death. He then says to meet him at Gotham stadium and says to be there at noon a week from then.

Everyone in Gotham, especially the Batfam, is quite honestly terrified for him and about this because sure he's built like a brick shithouse now and it's an open secret that he's the Red Hood but this is *Bane* and he has just gotten on live TV and challenged him to basically a boxing match to the death. Throughout the entire time leading up to it everyone is trying to dissuade him in various ways but he remains firm.

Then the date comes and the stadium is absolutely packed and being watched by a few tens of millions live on TV (how is Jason allowed to broadcast what most people think will be his swift bloody execution at midday? He doesn't know, ask Tim.) and then we see Jason and Bane in opposite corners of the ring. Bane is in his usual attire and still being supplied with Venom as usual and Jason is in wonder woman sweats with some unholy combination of combat boots and slippers and no shirt, baring all his scars to the crowd.

Then the bell sounds and Jason starts grinning maniacally before rushing Bane and slowly shattering as many of Bane's bones as possible as he doesn't even flinch at Bane's punches. Then it's over. Jason is straddled over Bane's corpse after having bashed his head into a greeny-red paste that is currently coating him. The arena is silent for what feels like hours but is probably only a minute max before erupting into a cacophony of cheering and chanting and screaming. Jason manages to push himself up and wander over to Bruce before prompting falling into him and passing out in his arms with a murmured "I'm sorry and you're welcome."

Also yes this is part of my agenda of making the Lazarus Pits more than just The Fountain of Youth but Angy™

[goddamnitmahtin]

dc x dp idea 2

Okay so like soulmate AU where when you reach your 5th birthday you can go to a soulmate medium and they will give you a marking on your wrist that represents your soulmate in some way. The mark only disappears if they die before you can meet them and turns vibrant colors the moment you do.

So Danny goes to get his mark and it turns out to be a robin. He thinks nothing of it until he goes to Gotham for a weekend trip after graduating and ends up being saved from a hostage situation by the bats and birds.

His mark starts swirling in vibrant colors as the once black and white robin becomes brown and red. So obviously, Danny thinks his soulmate is Robin right? He mentions this to another hostage next to him who very sweetly lets him know that all the birds started as Robins and that the current one was a minor.

Cue Danny mentally screaming because at this point it’s dealer’s choice which vigilante he’s supposed to fall in love with! At least the other hostage, Tim, was being very nice about it. He was being pretty shady about his sleeves though.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 109

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-” Tim chanted to himself, looking down at his cup of tea in betrayal. Was he hallucinating, had he been drugged with something? He had slept last night! 

Yet there in their own Lazarus Pit, the one in the cave not the giant one somewhere under the rest of Gotham, was a literal baby, looking just as surprised as he was. Of course that didn’t last, and its face scrunched up as it started to cry, which was his first hint that no, this was not in fact a hallucination. 

 There was a pit baby in the Lazarus pool. 

. . .

 There was a pit baby in the Lazarus pool. 

OH FUCK, there was a pit baby in the freaking Lazarus pool-