#wayne manor staff

[thebucketpail]

I kid you not, I just read this issue and immediately scrolled all the way through my page (very far) to tell you that there is in fact a staff working at Wayne manor (at least up until Dick got to the manor)

Batman (1940-) issue #437

I love this take though, amazing.

Inspired, in part, by this post by @mzminola but also something I've been ruminating on for a couple of years now.

Talking about pre New52 canon here mostly, though opinions about New52 or post Rebirth canon are also welcome to be added on, just specify it so we don't talk at cross purposes?

One of the thing that messes with me as an adult thinking back on comics is that you simply cannot put Alfred as the single member of staff who is dealing with all of the Manor.

I mean you can, comic logic, Alfred Is Not Of This World, whatever you want personally want.

Me personally, I cannot.

I need Harold to be down in the Batcave dealing with that part of the property until he dies in the 2000s at the very least, but also, consider how many hours there are in each day and how much Alfred has to do and how he's always serving dinner in time and laundry is done and everything is restocked and yet he also has the time to be personally chaffeuring the members of the family around and someone is also going to be having to deal with the household expenses and count balancing and -- and --

Like all of that PLUS keeping up with the superhero stuff PLUS cooking what sometimes are LAVISH spreads (WHICH TAKES TIME! PREP WORK TAKES TIME! COOKING TAKES TIME! ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE ONE PERSON AND ALSO HAVE TO GO PICK THESE PEOPLE UP AND MAKE SURE THEY HAVE THEIR LAUNDRY DONE AND THE GARDEN IS NOT OVERGROWN AND THE HOUSE IS CLEAN AND -- AUGH)

I cannot just accept that Alfred is doing it all, on his own, with the occasional WE-affiliated-and-vetted company called in to deal with, say, catering for a big event or whatever.

Especially not if Bruce is young and Alfred's supposed to be raising him, like oh god no, which is why the idea @mzminola talked about in his post (Bruce raised by his relatives) has taken root in my brain and is now my own personal very much cherished headcanon and a source of plenty of excuses for Bruce but also varied and eclectic skills and connections.

But okay, let's say that Alfred got left in charge of just managing things for Bruce until Bruce is of age and can take over things himself (in theory, in practice Bruce definitely pushes all he doesn't want to deal with about the house on Alfred and all he doesn't want to deal with about the company on Lucius Fox and sets up a contingency to get Tim to deal with shit for Bruce if Bruce were to be unavailable / unsteady / acting sus), while Bruce is being passed around from relative to relative.

There's still the staff that the Manor had before the death of Thomas and Martha to deal with. Gotta downsize that but you cannot just boot everyone and close shop.

I mean, yeah you can, but also, some of those people were probably there for a long time and Alfred wasn't just going to throw them out.

The way things work out in my brain is if Alfred is the "face" of the staff and the only one who, usually, interacts directly with The Family, while the others are in the background minding their own business, asking no questions at all.

They probably lost some people in NML during the Manor collapse, and the staff had to go through the harrowing process of getting new people that they didn't know nor trust in and then do their own version of vetting and making sure there was nothing hinky about any of them and that they understood the importance of the privacy of their employers, etc. etc.

Some of them must have retired at some point or moved on and were let go with more than fair compensantion and retirement packages and some stuff actually got outsourced a bit as technology progressed and things changed.

Especially after NML, actually.

Alfred is not going to hire someone just to come by to do all of the laundry, but he might have a trustworthy laundry service that is Bristol-based and is used to dealing with Rich People without asking questions.

And I am not say that they have to be In The Know life Alfred and Harold.

Actually, I prefer the idea that they aren't and that they just have this cushy job and loyalty to the Waynes and are all well compensated for being quiet and dealing with stuff on their own.

Sure, Alfred deals with the supernatural side of things, absolutely, and I am sure he has state of art machinery for, say, dealing with the costumes after patrol, but the Manor is huge and the upkeed is time consuming and exhausting and Alfred is too busy to do everything on his own.

So basically what I am saying is:

I have a might need for Alfred and his skeleton crew of long-time, trusted employees who keep the Manor running and stay out of the way of the bosses and everyone lives better like that.

I need Alfred's list of Trusted People who can deal with the family's laundry without messing it up and come do repairs when they are needed Upstairs since Harold won't leave the cave.

Give me Bruce's different childrens' different relationship's with said skeleton crew and Bruce's own distant relationship with them too and their reactions to things.

Allow me to have the skeleton crew sticking around and keeping the Manor up and running whenever Alfred is off around the world with Bruce for recovery / training / support purposes or who are still there and keeping things going when Alfred is too busy feuding with Bruce to look after everything else.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred: I'm afraid I don't have any open positions right now available

Danny: There isn't? But what about the ad on Gotham Job Connects saying a nanny was needed at Wayne Manor?

Alfred: I am unsure how that go on there but I can assure you, no one here put up that-

Damian: Excuse me, are you Daniel Fenton?

Danny: *Blinks down at child* Oh um yes I am.

Damian: Excellent. You're right on time for your interview. Please follow me.

Alfred: Master Damian? You put up a ad for a nanny?

Damian: That's right.

Alfred: You....want someone to care for you?

Damian: Heavens no. I'm searching for a nanny for the real child of the house. I know you're overwhelmed with the day to day duties running the household and didn't want you to have a heart attack from the stress. A professional nanny would lift the load off your shoulders.

Danny: That's so sweet that you care so much for your staff. Who's the child you want someone to help take care of? You're baby brother or sister?

Damian: My father.

Danny: .....

Alfred embarrassed: Master Damian....why would you-?

Damian: Richard says Father acts like a child, and children need minding if they make idiotic decisions too often.

Danny: .....

Alfred: I'm terrible sorry about this young man. I'll reimburse any millage you wasted driving out here.

Danny: No, it's okay. I-

Damian: The pay is fifty dollars a hour. Eighty hours every two weeks. We cover all benefits such as medical, dental, vision and auto insurance, and lodging can be provided if needed. Depending on how long we need your services I'll set up a retirement fund for you matching your bi-weekly pay.

Danny: So I would be like a in home caregiver? Most of my experience is with children but I'm sure I could handle your father.

Alfred: Master Damian!

Damian: *Hands Alfred a piece of paper*

Alfred after reading it: How soon can you start sir?

[yandere-writer-momo]

My take on the neglected spouse trope, but with a little spice. Short and to the point

Yandere Batman Shorts: Adorned In Pearls

Yandere Bruce Wayne x Neglected Wife Fem Reader x Yandere Batboys (platonic)

Tw: obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamic, power imbalance, time rewind, imprisonment (implied), death (beginning), and themes that should not be romanticized

“Put the jewels in the bag!” (Your name) didn’t even flinch when the intruder crudely held up his gun to her while she was in the kitchen. It seems her end was finally near at last. “Did you hear me?! Put your jewels in the bag!”

(Your name) calmly turned off the stove top while the intruder kept his voice raised. She had been working on breakfast for her ungrateful husband and her adopted children since they’d be back from patrol in a few hours. Alfred was in the Batcave which left her up here and vulnerable… not that they’d care.

“Let me turn off the stove so you don’t blow the place up if you shoot.” (Your name) calmly told him. She knew this would be a tragic end… and she looked forward to her suffering to end at last.

(Your name) unclasped the pearls from her neck and placed them in the burlap sack the burglar thrusted toward her with one hand. She then made her way to take off each piece of jewelry that was an empty gift from her husband. Even his mother’s ring he gave her for their opulent wedding.

“Code. Safe. Now.” The burglar demanded as he thrusted the gun in her chest.

“0219.” (Your name) calmly stated despite how terrifying the situation was. “It’s in the third room to the right.”

She could not get another word in before a searing pain filled her chest as a loud gunshot rung throughout the house. She glanced down at her chest at the bullet hole that was now through her chest cavity.

The burglar walked off while she sank to the floor in a heap. Her hands went to her phone to make a final call but… she knew no one from this house would answer. (Your name) was always an afterthought, and she believed she would be even in death.

So she dialed 911 and waited for the operator to answer. Her right hand was stained crimson as the viscous blood pooled around her like a grotesque blanket.

Once she heard the operated answer, (your name) cut them off, “There’s been a robber and murder at the Wayne manor.”

(Your name) then hung up and turned her gaze to the ceiling. If there was another life, she would be selfish and live for herself. She wouldn’t rot away like lettuce in the back of a fridge in this manor. No… she would have more respect for herself.

Breathe in… breathe out. She smiled in peace for the first time in years. She was finally free from this lonely nightmare she had been trapped in for nearly two decades. Maybe, she would finally deserve her chance to be loved as much as she loved back.

How was she to know the nightmare only just began?

.

.

.

(Your name) jolted awake, her wine glass nearly slipped from her hand from the sudden movement. A myriad of voices chattered in the opulent restaurant has her eyes glanced around the almost surreal scene.

This was the restaurant she had begged Bruce and the boys to come to for her birthday with her six years ago…

“ Mrs. Wayne, would you like another glass of water?” The familiar waiter came over with a pitiful expression that she had seared into her memory from all those years ago. The look almost every waiter gave her at any venue she went to.

“Actually, I’d like to order.” (Your name) smiled. “It’s my birthday… and I want to celebrate it for once.”

The waiter seemed surprised but happily took her order. This was the first time she had ordered rather than wait for hours for a family that wouldn’t come.

(Your name) smiled to herself, her gaze focused on the complementary wine glass that was brought to her by the wait staff. How sad was it that the stranger showed her more love than her own family?

She had a second chance… and she’d be damned if she wasted it.

.

.

.

After she had long left and enjoyed her meal, a dashing family of five hurriedly arrived to the restaurant.

Bruce Wayne looked slightly disheveled, but that didn’t take away from his charming good looks. The billionaire and his adopted sons hurriedly glanced around the restaurant for any sign of his wife and their mother. He knew she would be here… just like she always was that she waited for them.

They had all been given a second chance when they came home and found her small, lifeless body on the kitchen floor after patrol.

Never had they all cried so much as they cradled her cold, bloody form as they desperately tried to revive her. Each of them begged for another chance to love her properly.

Each of them had spent so much time finding the perfect gift to make up all the lost time up to her and to finally celebrate her birthday like a family… just like she always dreamed.

They had always kept their distance to keep her safe from their enemies. Yet they had instead created a giant misunderstanding. One that they all desperately needed to make up for.

“Do you think mother is still here? I hope she didn’t wait too long…” Damian muttered, his green eyes nervously searched for (your name)’s delicate form.

“She always waits for us. She loves us.” Dick reassured the others, yet they all knew it was more of a self reassurance. “She will be so happy…”

The wait staff seemed surprised but they did give the boys some glares.

“Jeez, what’s their problem?” Jason huffed as he put his hands in his pockets. He didn’t see her anywhere… he had gotten her a wonderful gift for once.

“I can look up her location.” Tim chimed in as he pulled out his phone. “She’s around, I’m sure.

It was Bruce who seemed to search the hardest for her. A bouquet of roses were clenched so hard in his fists that his knuckles turned white. He would make this all right again.

(Your name) was alive once more… and he would make sure she would never die or be hurt by anyone again. She’d be protected and cherished like she deserved.

“I’m sorry, but Mrs. Wayne left hours ago.”

The men all instantly deflated. She left? But she would always be here for hours for them… was there a possibility she returned in time too?

They all went back to the manor in haste. They wanted to celebrate her birthday with her… they wanted to celebrate so much with her. They wouldn’t let her be alone ever again.

.

.

.

(Your name) dipped her feet in the hot tub at the manor with a content sigh. Her lungs deeply inhaled the crisp night air with a dreamy sigh. This felt so peaceful. Why had she never celebrated her birthday like this before?

(Your name) didn’t even flinch when she heard the boys come home. Perhaps patrol ended early? It’s been so many years of being ignored that she hardly knew what went on in their lives.

She slipped the robe off and slid her swimsuit clad body into the comfortably hot water. Another sigh spilled through her lips, her muscles relaxed. This felt like heaven.

(Your name) jumped when Bruce suddenly slid the sliding door open with a loud whack. She was quick to cover her cleavage with her hands despite how this man was her legal husband.

“ Mr. Wayne? What are you doing here-“ Bruce was quick to close the distance and pull her into a hug. The muscular man shook like a leaf as he held her to him. His heart beats so fast, she swore it was about to burst.

“You’re alive… you’re okay…” (Your name) did a double take at his words. When did he ever care about her well-being?

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” There was no way he came back to the past too, right? Her original, neglectful husband would never hold her and bury his nose in her hair like this…

Yet here Bruce Wayne, her infamous billionaire, Playboy husband, was with his face borrowed into her skin. His nose deeply inhaled her scent like she was his favorite flower. He held her as if she was something precious, something he has never done in their two decades of marriage.

“What are you doing?” She asked, but he only held her tighter.

Bruce pulled back to study her face, is blue eyes were dark like a sea storm. His brows were furrowed in worry.

“Hugging my wife.”

A humorless chuckle bubbled from her chest. So now she was his wife? Since when has he treated her as such.

“Is this a joke?” She asked him despite how serious he looked. “I’m just a decorated house pet-“

Her eyes almost popped out of her head when he planted a searing kiss on her lips. A gasp escaped her as his tongue thrust its way into the cavern of her mouth and tasted every inch of it. His hands greedily grasped at her body.

“Wife… my wife.” Bruce whispered against her lips. “My beautiful wife.”

“Mister Wayne-“

“It’s Bruce.” His voice was authoritative as he cut her formalities off.

“…Bruce.” She sighed. “I’m not sure what you want from me.”

“I want you. I want my wife.” (Your name) squealed when h got into the hot tub with her to hair with her. “It’s your birthday today…”

He… he knew her birthday?

“I didn’t think you ever noticed...” She muttered, but he pressed his forehead to hers.

“All these years, we thought we were keeping you safe by keeping a distance. How foolish I was.” Bruce sighed. “You’re safer in our arms, in my arms.”

(Your name) was speechless when he pulled a gift box from his breast pocket and opened it to reveal an exquisite pearl necklace.

“You deserve to be adorned in pearls and jewels. To be pampered by me.” Bruce didn’t give her the chance to move away as he clasped the necklace around her.

Despite its elegance, (your name) couldn’t help the dread that pulled in her stomach. She could not stop the feeling that this pearl necklace was nothing more than a magnificent collar.

“You look so beautiful in those pearls… they were my mother’s, you know.” Bruce hummed as he picked her up and placed her on the edge of the hot tub.

Bruce placed her robe back over her form.

“Let’s get changed and go celebrate your birthday properly with the boys. They really want to see their mother.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “and after that, I think you and I can finally make up for all the lost time.”

(Your name) felt a tear roll down her face that Bruce took as a tear of joy. Yet only she knew the truth.

She had believed she would escape and find her own happiness, now she realize she would never escape this gilded cage.

[ihasafandom]

If the setting is Batman and you want to be pedantic, Alfred functions as a Valet but is called a Butler.

unironically i love this website and the people who post here because like 4% of them are even more pedantic and specialized in their knowledge bases than i am, and they are ALL HATERS. these are my people, sincerely. i support them uncritically even though all of us are REALLY annoying

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Zero Gravity

Things Justice League knows about Danny Phantom:

He's dead (why, how, and for how long is unclear)

He's generally on the 'good' side (but contingency plans have been set up in case of 'future evil self' resurfacing, by Danny's own suggestion)

He's a figure of authority among other dead/neverborn/otherworldly/eldritch/magical beings (however, it's unclear to what kind of authority he holds and why)

He's dating one of the Bats (unclear to who, but none of them confirmed nor denied the fact, which is a confirmation on its own)

He absolutely hates only three things: toast, circus, and Christmas (neither of them explained)

His powerset is so wide that he can't even fully recount it (unclear if it's because he doesn't remember all his abilities or if he can't keep track of the new ones popping up spontaneously)

He's hot [whoever added this, you're not wrong, but I'm watching you - O.]

He has a grudge against Flash (unclear to why, but Flash seems to know the reason and won't budge regardless)

Of course, there are many more things to know about Danny Phantom, but they are mostly suspicions, rumors, and speculations. Like how sometimes the boy seems distracted and bored as if he is only going through a pre-written script; a sign of repeatedly going through the same day a few times too many, as the other time-travellers say. Or like how sometimes he knows too much - the boy is an expert in Kryptonian biology, to Clark's great surprise, and is more knowledgeable about Olympus politics than Diana herself.

There are also little things that are hard to notice and even harder to ignore once you do. How he never talks about family but likes listening to others talk about it. How he pointedly stays away from the medbay and any kind of medical staff. How he stops every time he passes one of the giant windows on the main floor of the Watchtower, smiling dreamily at the sight of vast, open space beyond it.

And then, there's The Thing that no one addresses.

When Danny Phantom doesn't pay attention, he unknowingly nullifies gravity.

The first time it happened, Bruce thought the Watchtower's artificial gravity collapsed. However, he very quickly realized that it was a local occurrence - only a few rooms and a hallway were affected - and, right in the center of it, was Danny, reading a book he borrowed (stolen) from the Wayne manor library.

The boy himself never noticed it. Which made sense, given that he defied gravity all on his own, always floating in the air above the floor.

But the others never acknowledged it either, treating the sudden absence of gravity as a sign of one, Danny appearing somewhere around, and two, him being in a good, if a bit absent, mood.

All in all, it's not the strangest thing that happens at the Watchtower on a daily basis.

And, besides, it's kind of fun.

¤¤¤

Danny, floating in the middle of the game room at Wayne manor, deeply engrossed in a video game: Eat this, sucker!

Tim, using his toes and knees to keep himself from floating up from the couch, not wanting to distract Danny from their match: Oh, you're going down.

Titus in the background:

¤¤¤

Bart, in the middle of a conversation with Kon:

Kon: ...

Bart, looking down at the cup on the floor: ... I guess he left?..

Kon: He literally went through a giant glowing portal two minutes ago, five feet away from you, but that's how you figure it out?

Bart: I have a short attention span, anyway-

¤¤¤

Barry, opening a bag of chips just for all the contents and himself as well to start floating: I swear he does this on purpose, I fucking swear.

¤¤¤

Red Tornado, coming into the training hall of Mount Justice: ...

Young Justice:

Red Tornado: I take it Danny is visiting. I'll leave you to it, then.

¤¤¤

Bruce, walking out of the conference room at the Watchtower to see this on the other end of the hallway, internally: He may be coming this way, I should warn the others in the room.

Bruce, a second later, because he is a little shit deep inside: On the other hand, it's a great surroundings awareness drill, so maybe I shouldn't.

[witherby]

The Littlest Wayne

Or, the one where Bruce brings home a baby, and your adorable little face wins the heart of your new, big brothers.

Platonic!Reader and Batfam

"Bruce."

"Don't freak out."

"Bruce."

"You're freaking out. I can see it in your eyes, but don't do it."

"This is a problem. This is an actual addiction and you need help."

"You're overreacting. I need everyone to take a deep breath, in and out, and not freak out."

Dick crossed his arms and glared at his father, narrowed eyes shifting up and down in an extremely pointed manner. Tim and Jason were wearing similar expressions, looking either at Bruce himself or the bundle in his arms.

Damian walked across the room and peered down at the bundle, expressionless.

"Father, come on."

Bruce carefully brushed the edge of the blanket away from your face. You scrunched your tiny nose, disturbed, then settled back down without issue. The billionaire had found you abandoned outside the garage doors of the Gotham Fire Station, left there by some overwhelmed mother no doubt. Unfortunately, that particular station was closed on the weekends, because of course this damned city couldn't staff a fire station 24/7, and if he hadn't found you on patrol, you would have frozen to death on the ground.

"They were in danger!" Bruce insisted firmly, but kept his voice soft so as not to frighten you. "Look — they don't have black hair or blue eyes. You can tell I didn't do it on purpose."

"Why not take the baby to the GCPD, then? Or a hospital?" Jason piped up, unamused. "B, cut the bullshit. You can't keep 'em."

"I brought them here first to ensure they didn't need any immediate medical attention."

"Which is something a hospital could do," Tim said.

"An overcrowded and understaffed hospital, that doesn't have the time to spare to give them direct and undivided attention?" Bruce argued. "The med ward in the Cave is just as efficient as an emergency room, if not more so."

"And the fact that you aren't down there with the baby — the baby you are not keeping," Dick chimed in, holding out his arms for you, "means that they're perfectly fine and can be transported safely somewhere else."

"They're sleeping right now," Bruce said, completely deadpan, and made no move to relinquish his hold over you. "We can't put them in a noisy car and upset them. We can drop the baby off in the morning."

"He's getting dangerously attached," Dick hissed to his brothers. "We need the big guns."

"I'll alert Pennyworth," Damian declared, already ducking out of the room. Bruce scowled, aware the battle was quickly turning against his favor. But he could play dirty, too.

He dropped his shoulders and the furrow of his brow turned slightly down, weary and forlorn. He stopped looking at his boys and instead studied all your tiny features, tracing a finger down the bridge of your nose, gently across your lashes, and over your plump little cheeks. You were absolutely adorable. He was already thinking of names for you in his mind.

"You know, I never got to raise any of you from infancy," he stated, not in any pointed manner, just as objective fact. Just quietly enough that they could think Bruce hadn't meant to say it out loud. "Not that I would've wanted to steal that experience from your birth parents. I would never. But...I don't even know what Damian looked like when he was this small."

Dick's eye twitched. The glare was still in place, but his frown was less severe. One down.

"I'm sorry, boys," he sighed, acting as though he were giving in. "The Mission has taken up so much of my time, it's hard not to wonder what I would have been like as a normal father. Just the formative things, like... like changing diapers, and doing Tummy Time, and helping you guys learn to walk."

Tim's eyes grew distant, likely thinking of his own parents and the loneliness he felt growing up in Drake Manor all by himself. He was no doubt recalling how much he wished his mom or dad had been around, to play or to talk to or just to physically be there with him, instead of off traveling the world and leaving him behind to fend for himself.

Two down.

But Jason, despite all that had happened over the years, despite the strain on his relationship with Bruce, had always been the most emotional of his children. He would not be hard to win over.

"This would be a mistake," Bruce stated, looking his second oldest right in the eyes. "They'd be happier somewhere else, somewhere normal. Maybe...maybe one of you could hold them and I can go start the car? I can feel myself starting to get attached, and that's not fair to you, boys. I didn't mean to stress you all out. I wasn't thinking."

Jason huffed, lowering his feet from where they'd been propped up on the coffee table, and stood from the couch to come take you from Bruce. His arms carefully held you to his broad chest, your weight settling against him pleasantly.

He made the mistake of watching you scrunch your face and whine softly, itty bitty hands poking out from your blanket and gripping onto his shirt sleeve with all the strength your small body could muster.

Jason's expression dropped immediately, and he practically melted as he tucked you closer.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Damian and Alfred walked into the living room to find Bruce, Jason, Dick, and Tim all cooing and fawning over you, and the war was lost.

Welcome home, Littlest Wayne.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Danny, staring up at Tim, who currently Robin: okay...so this isn't what it looks like.

Tim, giving dead pan glare: so you arnt breaking into Drake Manor?

Danny, shoulders dropping: okay yeah it's totally what it looks like...but not because you think!

Tim, sighing slightly: so you arnt homeless and thought that since Timothy Drake was recently adopted by Bruce Wanye, and both of his parents are dead you can just move in and live here?

Danny, blinking owlishly: I mean, yeah? I mean, not homeless, and I didn't even know that dude got adopted, like good for him, hope that he is safe and shiz, sucks that he parents died and all but not here to squat dude.

Tim, raising a single eyebrow: then why pray tell are you here?

Danny, kicking at the ground a bit: so like...ugh, so I might be um like...a...fudge what's the word...ah! Psychopomp? Like I am a dude that helps like people's ghosts pass and like keeps em happy.

Tim, squinting behind his mask: the only person that died here is Jack Drake and I assure you, his soul would not be happy going to where he deserves to be.

Danny, holding up his hands: wow lot of misplaced aggression there boy wonder...no I ain't here for him, like him and his wife did like...so much tomb raiding they would make the Victorians jelly. I am here cus they stole some dudes shit and he wants it back...like yesterday.

Tim, tilting his head: so you are here to steal an artifact.

Danny, popping the P sound: Yup, something about some guys clay tablet, he liked keeping his hate mail for some reason, said this one was about how he shorted some dudes iron? Or was it copper... my Mesopotamian isn't the best.

Tim, eyes widening, because he knows *exactly* which tablet he is talking about: Oh...yeah no bro, you seem chill but I really can't let you have that so why don't you just like...walk away and I won't be forced to do something kay?

Danny, frowning: Sames dude, up until that .y guy cus like...I *really* wasn't asking...

Tim, sighing as he extends his bo staff: Try and just like, not hold a grude yeah? Don't need a new villain...

Danny, pulling out an ecto gun and turning it on: I don't know man...I feel like we have good banter.

(They fight, Tim is still training so he is a bit sloppy, and Danny isn't shooting to kill, so it's more of them playing cat and mouse throughout Drake Manor, it ends with Danny stealing the tablet but having to leave the ecto gun, which gets broken when he escapes)

Tim, panting as he watches Danny flee: Fuck...is this what B feels after fighting Catwoman?

---

Bruce, rubbing his temples as Tim explains why he was late for training: You tried to apprehend an unknown, with a weapon of an unknown source and power...in the home of your secret identity?

Tim, looking properly chastised: God...yes that happened...he wasn't that bad honestly...was pretty witty.

Bruce developing a twitch in his eye: No.

Tim: No? No what.

Bruce, glaring hard at his adopted son: No falling in love with a villain.

Tim, looking scandalized now: Oh? What is this? Hypocrisy thy name is Bruce Wayne!

Bruce's glare turns into a batglare: Ten laps around the cave and fifty bo staff katas...no villains!

---

Danny becomes Tim's rogue, but not really, most of their battles are more each other showing off their new gear/moves they learned.

Danny also is only using tech that his parents made and he upgraded since he really doesn't want to go ghost in front of *Robin*, who is totally not his crush, and the only reason why he won't is because batman would 100% be on his ass.

Danny, pulling a massive creep stick with a nail driven through it out of seemingly nowhere: The new and approved Creep Stick! This time with nail to add tetnus damage!

Tim, watching as 'The Inventor' escapes once more: I hate seeing him leave but by God do I love watching him go...Damn should have turned on the camera just so I can see it again.

Barbara chiming in: Keep the main line PG Robin.

Batman, through coms: Hn...we shall be having words when we get back to the cave

Tim, sipping a soup that The Occultist made: "So like...why were you even here?

---

When the Titans tower incident occurs, Tim could only watch in awe as the Inventor, not only comes in from the ceiling with a literal metal chair, and then continues to beat up the guy with a bad Robin cosplay.

Danny, panting as he holds up the chair again: Back I say! Back! My blorbo!

Jason, seething as he actually hisses at this random teen that appeared out of nowhere, scurrying away while cradling his broken arm: You shall rue the day! Jason Todd was here bitches!

Tim, staring up at Danny, face a bloody mess and an adoring look in his eyes: omg he stalks me, this is must what the other guys felt when I did it!

They don't really start dating, it's much more Danny breaking into Tim's house and just not leaving.

Tim, watching as his "arch enemy" is sprawled across his couch, bucket of ice cream in one hand, spoon in another, phone balanced between his ear and shoulder, pants and socks tossed haphazardly across the living room and just chilling in his boxers: Now wait a damn minute.

Danny, pausing while looking up from his ice cream (which is actually Tim's, since the boy is rich and buys the good shit), pointing his spoon accusatorily at Tim: Your fucking late Mister! Drag race started half an hour ago and we agreed to watch it together!

Tim, blushing under the Robin mask: Sorry case got good and- wait wait wait, when did we agree to watch drag race together?

Danny, rolling his eyes: when I made breakfast this morning? I even gave you extra strong coffee for your solem swearing that you would be here.

Tim, thinking back to earlier: I just...remember a bright white orb giving me a mug and a plate of food...

Danny, scoffing: this is why I need to drug you to get to sleep more often. Now take off your gear and get over here, they about to choose who shall sashay away!

Tim, nodding slowly: Hope it is that one queen from last episode, that lio sink didn't have any- wait! Ugh you keep distracting me! When did you fucking move in? I don't even know your name!

Danny with a spoon just an inch away from his mouth: Jazz? Yeah I uhh...I gotta call you back...(clicks hang up on his phone) Your joking right? For the shits and gigs?

Tim, shaking his head slowly: No shits, not a single gig my dude, 100% honest.

Danny, who had just arrived this morning since his parents are renovating because Fenton HQ is a glaring OSHA violation, but also who's middle names are "commit to the bit" and "Gaslight GateKeep Girl boss" : Babe we have been dating for like, *months*...d-do ou really not remember?

Tim, existential crisis made manifest: Oh no...I have been mind wiped.

Danny, astounded that worked: Baby I am so sorry...

They "date" for like a week before Danny starts feeling bad that he tricked Tim (who he finally got to see maskless, he had to stop his heart to not show any outward reaction to that, cus like hell he is cute) and wants to come clean but he honestly never had seen Tim more happy nor more healthy.

Danny, sitting across Bruce at the Manor: S-So um...like yeah we um...met at a science convention? My um...my parents were show casing stuff and like...we met there?

Bruce, eyes narrowing because that sounded like a lie: Hn.

Dick, happy that Tim finally felt comfortable to bring his "boyfriend" to dinner: B stop glaring! Your going to scare off Timmy's Bf! God you weren't this bad when I brought over Roy that one time.

Bruce doesn't stop glaring, and it's making Danny even more nervous: Um I uh...need to use the bathroom one sec...

Tim moves to guide him but Alfred waves him to sit down: You really must eat Master Timothy, I did make your favorite today. I shall guide Mister Fenton to the lavatory.

Alfred does indeed lead Danny from the dining room, but the second they are far enough the old butler suddenly has a shotgun in hand, skin suddenly a pale blue and objects around the parlor turning green and floating: While they do try and see the best in others, I do not Phantom, now I must ask you to kindly leave and never contact Master Timothy every again. I shall not let my charge fall for such as the likes of you.

Danny blinking at how he was addressed, a sudden ghostly blue mist escaping his mouth: Oh shit.

They have a ghost fight, all while comically popping in and out of the dining room, making excuses for whyvthe other is gone.

It ends when Tim, finally fed up with why his boyfriend is taking so long opens the door only to see him duking it out with Alfred, fully gone ghost and was loosing.

Such leads to confessions of lies, real feeling and why Alfred has been able to be a spry 60 even though he fought in WWI and it is very much the mid 2010s.

(Danny and Tim do end up together, this time with no lies about a mind wipe, and get Kon and Bart to join their polycule later on)

[rosemaryhoney27]

Tiny Blades and Big Chaos”

aka: Danny vs. Damian: Politeness vs. Precision, Featuring Ghost Tricks and Sibling Rivalry

It was Alfred’s idea, of course.

“Master Daniel seems rather adept at handling himself,” he said, very reasonably. “A joint sparring session with Master Damian might help them… bond.”

Vlad had sputtered. “Bond? Bond over what? Hidden knives and bloodlust?!”

“Yes,” said Alfred, calm as ever. “Precisely.”

Wayne Manor Training Room, 9:00 AM

The Batkids lined the edges of the mat like kids waiting for recess drama. Jason brought popcorn. Tim had his tablet recording. Steph was live-texting Cass with updates. Dick had his camera ready and a big brother grin on his face like this is gonna be great.

Damian stood at the center of the mat, wooden sword in hand, the sharpness in his eyes making up for the lack of steel. “You are not a trained assassin,” he said flatly, glaring at Danny. “This will not be gentle.”

Danny smiled, still in his hoodie and sweats, holding a practice staff Alfred handed him. “That’s okay. I’m kinda hard to kill.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see.”

Bruce, from the sidelines, muttered to Vlad, “This’ll go fine.”

Vlad whispered back, “This is a war crime waiting to happen.”

Round One: Damian Attacks First

Damian moved like lightning—precise, deadly, fast. His wooden sword swung for Danny’s side, a feint to the legs, followed by a spinning strike meant to knock him off balance.

Danny vanished.

Literally. Vanished. A shimmer of light and he phased right through the blade like a friendly ghost playing tag.

“What—?!” Damian turned, just in time to catch Danny gently tapping his shoulder with the staff. “Tag.”

Steph: “OH MY GOD HE GHOSTED THROUGH IT—”

Jason: “Ten bucks says he phases through the floor next.”

Vlad: weeping in the corner “He does this all the time. You’re all just ENCOURAGING HIM.”

Round Two: Damian Gets Serious

“You are not using proper rules of engagement,” Damian growled.

“I’m literally just floating,” Danny said, upside down mid-air. “Not my fault physics loves me.”

“Fight me like a warrior!”

“Okay,” Danny said—and then let the staff drop.

He raised his hands, and a soft, eerie glow covered them. His feet touched the ground. The temperature dipped just a little. Shadows crept a little too long.

“Wanna go full-power?” he asked, still smiling, but something in his voice had changed.

Everyone shut up.

Damian grinned like a tiny feral goblin. “Yes.”

What Followed Could Not Be Legally Described As Training

To summarize:

Danny dodged a flying kick by phasing through a wall and reappearing behind Damian like a horror movie jump scare.

Damian managed to tag Danny across the ribs, earning a respectful, “Nice hit!”

Danny retaliated by sliding through the floor, then popping up behind Damian to ruffle his hair, making him scream in rage.

Cass showed up halfway through, said nothing, and started rating their moves out of 10.

Alfred brought out lemon water and towels like this was completely normal.

Bruce was watching with an expression that said, I need to update our supernatural sparring protocols.

At one point, Danny caught Damian mid-air (after a parkour wall run), gently set him down, and said, “I’m only going easy because Vlad said if I break a Wayne he loses custody.”

“Fight me properly or I will THROW YOU,” Damian roared, red-faced.

Danny giggled.

He giggled.

Afterwards

They were both sweaty, bruised, and grinning like maniacs. Damian sat on the bench, panting, sipping water with a glare that could melt titanium.

“That was acceptable,” he muttered. “You are chaotic and dishonorable. I approve.”

Danny wiped his face with a towel. “Thanks! You fight like my sister’s evil clone. High praise.”

“Can you teach me to phase through walls?”

“Only if you promise not to sneak up on people during 2 AM snack runs.”

“…No promises.”

Jason tossed Danny a granola bar. “Welcome to the family, baby ghost.”

Danny blinked. “Wait, you mean I passed?”

“You suplexed a grown man and survived Damian. You’re in.”

“Officially a Wayne now,” Steph said, taking a picture. “Smile!”

Danny grinned just as Vlad walked in with a cup of tea and despair on his face.

“I leave you alone for one hour. One! What happened?!”

Damian pointed dramatically. “He cheats.”

“He used no blade.”

“He walked through a wall!”

“He told the shadows to ‘wait their turn.’”

Vlad blinked. “That last one actually is new.”

Danny smiled. “It’s a learning environment, Uncle Vlad.”

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][arranged marriage][friends to lovers][loss of virginity][unprotected p in v][just the tip][oral f! receiving][fingering][aged up][nipple play][UNDERSTAND by keshi for the fluff (trust)][petnames][ra's you little matchmaker you]

"I'm sorry, what?" Bruce's brows raise, nearly meeting his hairline as he stares at Jason, who only nods his head enthusiastically.

"Damian had a bride. Like.... They were married, had a ceremony and everything. It was actually really beautiful, I cried." Jason hums softly before extending his legs out in front of him, booted feet crossing at the ankles.

"And you want us to get this girl, why?" Tim questions, a brow raising.

"Damian's lonely." Dick states. "So... It would do him some good to be around someone he knows. Like... Properly knows."

"For his birthday." Barbara chimes in. "He's turning 19 and he's a virgin. And he's definitely not gay."

"The turtlenecks could've fooled me." Jason snickers softly, before glancing at Bruce's turtleneck, and raising a brow, almost suspiciously.

"We'll get the girl." Bruce hums.

—♱—

"Is this... a house?" Your voice is quiet, almost meek and timid as you look around at the architecture of Wayne Manor, before your eyes move towards the light switches. And you gasp.

"Lights?" You breathe out. "You have magic within your walls?"

They don't know how to react. They don't know if you're joking or if you're serially disadvantaged.

Until you let out a snort of laughter.

"Nah, I'm just messing with you." You snicker, your hands tucked into the pockets of the oversized hoodie you're wearing and you look around.

"You have a lovely home, Mr Wayne. It's lovely to see that there aren't a lot of staff." You smile. A polite, and genuine expression and Bruce damn near melts because shit, maybe Ra's picked good for Damian.

"That's the opposite of what Damian said." Bruce hums and you feel your heart nearly stop in your chest as you repeat the name.

"Damian?"

"Beloved?"

Damian's voice is a quiet murmur, the thick, wooden spined book tumbling from his limp hand as he stares at you, emerald pools wide and pink lips parted to let out the shakiest of breaths.

It feels like time stands still.

You hadn't seen him in so long. The last you can remember is waking up to the sound of screams and clashing blades, blood seeping into the Egyptian rugs that covered the floorboards and you'd found assassins slain.

Body after body after body.

He looks older. Boyish features remain but tinged with the sharpness of maturity, broad shoulders and muscles in place of lean, slender limbs. But that couldn't be anyone else.

The scent of oud and cinnamon musk clings to the air as he takes tentative steps towards you, shaky hands cupping your cheeks and making you look up at him.

You have the same mischievous eyes, your iris flecked with that metallic hue that always seemed to suit your eyes, your face still fits so perfectly in his hands. You're taller than you were, you weigh a bit more, your hips are fuller. Grabbable. There's a sensual dip in your waist that he'll be sure to explore later.

And Damian's forehead rests against yours, feeling the contact of your skin and he lets out a shuddering breath.

"I missed you." You whisper quietly, your voice filling the silent air of the foyer and Damian nods his head.

"As have I." He murmurs quietly. "More than you could imagine."

—♱—

You sit anxiously on the edge of Damian's bed and you watch as he steps out of the ensuite bathroom, steam rising from his tanned skin and rivulets of hot water dripping between the cords of his muscles. His hair is damp, a towel low on his waist before he moves towards you, standing between your thighs and he looks down at you, a hand lifting to cup your cheek.

Watching the way you stare up at him through your lashes, tilting your head ever so slightly, capturing his thumb between your full lips. And you watch the way that slow blush creeps up his features.

"Still so easy to fluster." You tease him softly and you watch as his eyes narrow.

"Still such a raging asshole." He retorts, before leaning forward, pressing the softest kiss against your forehead.

You lean back against the headboard, Damian's head resting on your lower belly, fingers idly tracing patterns on your hips, exposed by where the T-shirt had ridden up.

"Your head is still fat." You murmur, your voice a soft sound against the sound of Gotham's pouring rain, streets and sidewalks soaked with rain and slippery to the touch.

Bruce had given Damian the night off, and it would be a lie to say Damian doesn't intend to make the most of the night.

Whether it be losing his virginity or falling asleep in your arms like when times were... Ridiculously simpler. When his focus was taking lives and not protecting them.

"I can see the hair on your forearms." Damian mocks, and he watches as you tuck your hands behind your back, a snort of boyish laughter tumbling from his lips. He reaches behind your back, pulling your arms forward before pressing the sweetest kisses to your palms.

"I'm just kidding." He reassures quietly. "I like that you're a Sasqua—" Damian's words are cut off when you push his head back into your stomach, and you can tell by the tension in his shoulders that he's going to argue.

So you card your fingers through those raven strands, scratching his scalp lightly and you watch the way the muscles in his back relaxes, and a minty sigh leaves his lips.

"You're lucky I love you." Damian mumbles, his voice muffled by the slight pudge of your belly and your fingers halt just a bit in his hair.

"Still ?" You question, almost incredulously and Damian lifts his head, staring up at you from beneath furrowed brows.

"The years apart doesn't diminish the fact that you're my wife." Damian murmurs. "My grandfather may have been a dick but he made a good choice to make my best friend my bride."

Your heart swells and thuds. Your eyes feel the tiniest bit misty and almost immediately, your free hand reaches for the bedside lamp, switching off the light and shrouding the bedroom in shadows and silvery moonlight.

"Are you crying?" Damian asks, a tinge of humour in his voice as he sits up, your thighs tossed over his and his hands move to your cheeks.

"...no."

You sniffle, tears dropping down your flushed cheeks in fat droplets, rolling until Damian's thumbs brush them away. His hands are warm against your cheeks, palms just a bit rougher than they were and you feel the way his lips press sweet kisses to your eyelids.

"You complete me." Damian whispers. "Emotionally, not physically." He adds, almost like it needs clarification and you let out a teary snicker.

"Wow, thank you so much for clarifying that." You answer sarcastically, before your hands move to cradle his face, just like you used after a particularly hard day of training and you watch the way the moonlight illuminates his features, and you watch his eyes soften at the action.

Eyes closing to commit the sensation to memory once again and he lets out an almost unsteady breath.

Leaning forward to rest his cheek against your chest, before feeling the familiar feel of a ring that you've chosen to keep on a chain instead.

"It's felt rather... Peculiar without it." Damian murmurs under his breath, reaching for one of the drawers of his bedside table, and tugging it open, and he rifles through the bits and bobs until he finds the tiny satin satchel he was looking for.

And he opens it up, turning the light on but on a dimmer setting, before he pulls the ring out of the baggie.

A tungsten carbide wedding band, two thin gold strips on it, divided by flakes of gold and emerald, encapsulated.

Reaching for the clasp behind your neck, you slide the necklace off and remove the ring. Your wedding ring.

An ornate gold band, the centre stone being an upside down, pear-shaped emerald, accented by two diamonds on either side.

The rings had been too big for either of your fingers, so you'd simply held onto them. But now, you're both old enough.

Old enough to know that the arrangement could be nullified, and old enough to know that neither wanted that.

Damian slides your ring onto your left hand, the act so intimate as he stares up at our face, scanning for any hints of hesitance but he only sees adoration. A hopeful expression of love.

And you mimic his actions.

And there isn't a lick of doubt in his expression, not even a flicker of hesitance, just pure... Relief. Contentment. Adoration.

Damian interlocks your hands with his, enjoying the warmth of the metal against his fingers and he presses his lips against yours in a sweet, adoring kiss that lingers for far longer than one of the friendly pecks you'd give back then.

He savours the feeling of you near, his bare chest pressed against yours, only kept apart by the soft, cotton fabric between you two and he pulls back.

Watching the way you stare up at him through your lashes, kiss-reddened lips parted to let out sweet symphonies of quiet breaths.

And you see his pupils dilate even more in the dim light, as his hands disentangle from yours, moving to rest on the swell of your hips.

You pretend that you don't notice his shaking hands as he reaches for the edge of the T-shirt you've snatched from his closet after your shower, and you pretend that you don't notice the way those same shaky hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they pebble while his knee slots between your thighs, kisses slowly pressed against the soft skin of your neck.

Your hands move to rest on his biceps, manicured nails tracing over the faintest of scars in his perfect flesh and you feel him gently guide you to rest back against the thick, Egyptian covers, his hands anxiously roaming along your sides.

"Does this feel good?" Damian questions softly, his lips sucking a mark into the sensitive skin right over your pulse and you swallow, nodding your head.

You wet your lips when he lifts his head, looking down at you and his muscular thigh presses against your core, feeling the way your pussy throbs against the stretchy fabric of his boxers that you'd stolen.

Damian's sweet when he's guiding your legs to rest over his broad, muscular shoulders.

Pressing sweet kisses along the flesh of your inner thighs, hands gently kneading the fat of your hips with so much reverence that it makes your toes curl.

Especially when his hands move to aid him, thumbs pressing against the puffy, plump flesh of your pussy and parting the lips, watching the way your slick and slippery folds twitch and Damian takes a deep breath.

"How much teeth do you suppose I use?" Damian questions softly, and the amount of stress that runs through your body is insane.

"None at a—or..... Oh..."

Your lips form the cutest little 'o' shape when Damian drags his tongue through your folds, juniper gaze locked on your expression that he finds as a mixture of surprised and aroused.

Your hands move to his hair, fingers carding through them affectionately. And Damian takes that as a sign that he should keep doing that. Long strokes of his tongue have your fingers clutching at his hair, brows knitting into a twitchy frown, your hips nearly bucking.

And you need to stifle a loud and pitchy gasp when he circles what he assumes to be your clit.

"Is that it?" Damian asks softly, before you nod your head, swallowing down every sound that possibly threatens to spill in the quietness of the manor.

And Damian lifts his head, locating the exact spot he just licked and committing it to memory.

"But.... Not all girls' are like... On the exact same spot.." You breathe out quietly, still trying to teach him while he's slowly flicking his tongue along your needy clit.

"I only need to know where yours is." Damian hums, the low vibration causing the pleasure in your belly to build like an accumulating wildfire. And your lashes flutter, a whine slipping past your lips as Damian sucks at your clit, teasing the little button before he lifts his head.

His chin is wet with your slick, and he spits at your hole, watching the way your pussy pulses the tiniest bit before he goes back to lapping at your clit. And one of his muscular fingers slowly push past the ring of muscle, and his brows furrow at the way you twitch around his fingers.

And your toes curl just as his finger crooks.

"Shit, shit, shit..." You whimper, your chest heaving as you feel your orgasm building and Damian adds a second finger, slowly fucking you with his digits, eyes watching the way your body shivers and shudders.

And you grab a pillow, muffling your moan as you cum around his fingers, and Damian swallows, licking up any of the mess and keeping your hips anchored with one of his forearms, resting across your pelvis.

Damian slurps, the sound is lewd and it makes your hips buck harder.

He's gentle. Licking at your clit, teasing the bud until it peeks out from beneath the hood, oversensitive and slippery against his tongue, before he lifts his head.

His chin is shiny in the moonlight that pours in and the low light of the lamp beside the bed. He peels off the towel around his waist, tossing it to the carpet into a fuzzy puddle before he watches your bleary gaze lower.

He's... Thick. Perfect in literally every way. A flushed tip, leaking beads of precum down his long shaft, a pretty and prominent vein on the underside and Damian gives himself a few shy strokes.

Not to excite himself, obviously. Just so the sound fills the silence, and he lets out a shaky breath, before he brushes his tip along your sloppy folds.

The feeling is... Surreal.

Your toes feel like when you put your lips against a TV, a muffled gasp slipping from your lips everytime his slit catches against your clit and Damian shifts, resting your legs against his thighs.

"Are you ready?" Damian asks quietly, his free hand fiddling, thumbing your clit sweetly and you nod your head.

"I'm ready." Your voice is a soft murmur. "Are you?"

And he nods his head, before notching himself at your entrance.

"Tell me if hurts." Damian instructs, before he slowly pushes into you. It's... Uncomfortable. The slightest pinch of pain, but not unbearable and your hands fist at the sheets, before Damian stops abruptly.

Taking your hands and placing the on his tightly toned lower belly, the faintest and thinnest sliver of dark hair between your palms.

"This is so you can.... Control the depth." Damian mutters.

Control.

Damian's never given that to anyone. Especially not over his own body.

And slowly, Damian pushes until his whole tip is nestled snugly inside you.

"H—...How is it?" You mutter shyly, your gaze locked on where the two of you meet, and he swallows.

"Tight... Warm... It's so wet..." Damian shudders, a cool sweat prickling across his skin. "You're so perfect."

"Would you rate it 5 stars?" You question teasingly and he lets out a laugh. A cute snort of laughter and he leans forward, his hands moving to rest on the mahogany headboard, fingers absentmindedly tracing the decadent carvings in the wood.

"4.5." Damian answers. "Because you asked me to rate it."

You watch his stomach muscles flex, his abs rippling beneath his tawny skin before the watch on his wrist beeps. And he lets out a quiet groan, looking down at you with those sweet, adoring eyes.

"I'm sorry— I—" "You don't need to explain." You reassure quietly, kissing Damian sweetly when he leans close enough and he pulls out of you.

"I'll be back before you know it, beloved."

—♱—

"Why do you smell like pussy?" Jason questions over the intercom, his voice staticky over the connection.

"How dare you?" Damian scowls, bringing his hood over his head, obscuring his face in the shadow of the fabric.

"I smell like my wife's pussy. Get it right."

[frownyalfred]

An interesting element I don’t often see in Batfamily fics is that Wayne Manor in all likelihood was built to accommodate an extensive staff and while Alfred may or may not be the only live-in employee in modern times (depending on canon) there are dozens of rooms and even an entire wing of the house that were historically devoted to feeding, housing, and employing many different types of people in order to maintain a grand estate 24/7. Carriage houses out back with old living quarters above what used to be horse stalls. Endless rickety, narrow servants’ staircases hidden alongside and behind the main, grander staircases. Bells and switches attached throughout the house to alert staff of changes. Pipes to the maids’ rooms in the attic that have to be turned off in winter because of disuse. Secondary kitchens and butler’s pantries.

That’s why Alfred being the only servant left (or one of only a few) is so important. He’s one man in an entire empty wing.

[fancyfeathers]

Okay so I see a lot of Yandere!Batfam with a darling who is one of the children in the family but what I don’t see is Yandere!Batfam with two darlings, a single mother with a daughter.

Based on this quick post I made (link)

Like just picture the mother!darling being a rich sweetheart of Bruce Wayne’s at one point, perhaps even being his fiancé bit was the engagement was called off by her because of his work as Batman. She did not want her husband keeping secrets from her, and then imagine if they had a child one day, what sort of life would it be for them?

Well that question certainly comes to life when she finds out she is pregnant just days after leaving Bruce. She has far too much pride to go back to him and scared what life her baby would live with their father being in danger every night. She gives birth and raises her daughter herself, beginning to travel in the world for her work, leaving Gotham just as Bruce takes in Dick Grayson.

Years go by and she raises her own child and Bruce takes in his own children. Of course they hear about each other in the press but really have not paid much mind until she is back in Gotham, attending a charity event at a hotel. Her daughter is up in their hotel room, asleep or so she hopes anyway, and she is sipping on a glass of champagne while making meaningless small talk and then like as if out of a scene from a movie both she and Bruce spot each other from across the room. Conversation between the two is unavoidable especially with Dick trying to push the two together but it is sour quickly with her quietly chewing him out for choosing his vigilante identity over her and-

“Ma’am, your daughter just woke up, a nightmare.”

The conversation is cut short by one of the hotel staff speaking out to her while holding a little girl’s hand who is standing there in her nightgown, eyes full of tears while she clutches her stuffed animal. Bruce just watches as his ex-fiancé takes care of her daughter, his daughter, excusing herself from the party to put her back to bed. Then when the end of the party comes and people have started to leave he finds her again and asks her the question…

“Is she mine? Your daughter…”

“…Yes… she is… I-I am sorry Bruce, I have to go.”

She runs off upstairs and he is just left there starstruck and with his own kids not too far away and listening into their conversation. So when they all arrive back at the manor Bruce is due to give an explanation about the woman who is the mother of Bruce’s daughter, Damian’s half sister, and who might as well be the little sister of the rest of the lot.

So with a bit of planning the kids come up with a way to add a few people into their family, a mother and a little sister…

Dick goes to visit them at the hotel, calling beforehand and asking her to meet husband in the hotel lounge to talk. He tries to convince her to come back, her daughter needs to know who her father and brothers are, and Bruce misses her and she cannot deny that she love Bruce at one point and-

That plan goes up in flames as she runs upstairs, rejecting Dick’s idea.

Then that falls to plan B with Jason.

This wasn’t actually intended to be a plan, just Jason keeping an eye on the little girl from afar to make sure nothing happened to her while she was out with her nanny, after all Gotham is a dangerous place. She and her nanny were just supposed to be out running errands before they leave Gotham but she just happened to be separated from the nanny and alone in the dangerous streets. It is only a matter of time before someone tries to snatch her up, the daughter of a rich woman, she would be perfect to hold for ransom. Luckily Jason, or rather, Red Hood is there in time to save her, telling her to go in the corner and cover her eyes while he deals with them. He hushes her as he wraps her up in his jacket, telling her to keep her eyes shut as he carries her out of there, he doesn’t want her to see the pools of blood he is walking through as he is carrying his little sister out of there.

Then when he returns to Wayne Manor with her, Damian looks after her while Jason explains what happened to Bruce. It isn’t safe for them, she could have been killed or worse if it wasn’t for him. Eventually Bruce caves and agrees to their plan of getting them both back.

Bruce goes to go see his ex-fiancé who is in a state of panic because her daughter is missing. Bruce sits her down and tells her daughter is safe and taken care of at Wayne Manor but there is a problem, her daughter’s kidnapping will be seen as child neglect if Bruce chose to file for custody of his daughter. If that was not enough to get her cave in he shows her a file of blackmail Tim had gathered on her which also shows old not look good to the court, so he asks her one thing with only one answer to it…

“Will you marry me?”

“…fine…”

Then not to far down the line there is a white wedding that should have happened years ago, and as Bruce and his wife exchange rings, say I do, and kiss, their children watch…

Her daughter is not a fool, she knows something wrong, she just has no way of telling anyone as Dick holds her on his hip as if she weighs nothing, and Jason fixes her flower girl dress for the pictures that Tim is already taking and has been throughout the ceremony.

[novelistwriter]

The Bat's Desperation

DP x DC Prompt

The Justice League had defended the earth from an unknown foe that decided to attack the planet. But their retaliation came at a cost. Most of the members had died.

All of the Flashes went first, like the being knew of their ability to time travel, Dick had become like he was when he became Robin. He was full of anger upon seeing Wally's body. Then all of the Kryptonians went next, Damian and Tim had become enraged when they saw the bodies of Jon and Kon, and Bruce himself felt something like Rage when he saw Clark's body as well. And then, one by one, the Justice League, Justice League Dark, Teen Titans, Young Justice, and Outlaws fell against this being.

It took a while, but they finally defeated the being, but the only surviving members were Bruce, missing an arm and an eye. Constantine, who is close to the end of his life with how much he sacrificed to try and save the others. Beast Boy, the only surviving member of the Titans, he hasn't shifted into an animal after the being was beaten and had just shut down and moves on auto pilot. M'gann is also the sole surviving Young Justice member and Martian after J'onn sacrificed himself for her.

What hurts Bruce the most other than losing his eye and arm is the loss of his family. It's only just him and Alfred left of the Bat family. He can't even revive them with the Lazarus Pits because nothing of them remains.

He's heard John mention the Infinite Realms and the Ghost King during the battle with the being, but he didn't have enough time to summon that being. John had entrusted the means to summon the Ghost King to anyone that was left in the final fight they had with the being. Bruce is going to use those means to summon the Ghost King to bring back all those lives lost, at the cost of his own.

And now Bruce has made the proper summoning circle for the Ghost King. He was expecting something beyond human comprehension, not a man in purple robes, a clock in the beings chest, a staff in one hand, and a baby in the other.

"Greetings, Bruce Wayne, I know why you want to bargain with the Ghost King. But I am afraid that my King is reduced to this state by those that he thought were his family. He has no one else to turn to, as his friends and family that stuck with him had perished alongside him. I could only recover my king's core and turn him into this baby. I will give you the means to defeat the foe you faced with your friends and family when they had first arrived, but you must raise my King in life, and serve him in death."

That is what Bruce was told, and he had agreed to those terms. And before he knew it, he was back in the Manor, with the baby King in both of his arms and an Amulet hanging off of his neck that glows a green color that's shades lighter than the Lazarus Pits.

Those who deal with magic will know what Bruce has done when they see the Amulet around his neck. Danny will grow up again, not knowing of his previous life, and being a Halfa from the start of his life, rather than becoming one at 14.

[clockwayswrites]

Die Screaming, Live Laughing

Danny/Tim, Cyan, Wind through tree branches/Windchimes @wisteriavines @darkstarsapocalypse (I saw you before you changed that! Twins!)

cw:bar parent fentons, more temporary character death, bones

The faint, mechanical whir under his fingertips as he spins the camera lens comforts Tim. The fiddling is familiar from the years of following Bats and crime across the city. The rooftops of Gotham are an environment that he’s far more familiar with than here. Here is nothing but endless trees and leaves.

Well, somewhere here is also the campgrounds and Bernard, Ives, Steph, and Cass; but that’s far out of sight and almost out of mind. It’s easy, as he listens to the wind rustle through the trees, to feel like nothing exists but the trees and Tim and his camera.

He spins the lens again.

Ostensibly, the four of them are in these woods to find Mothman. Which would be cool! But even Tim, who proposed this whole thing, knows that it’s just an excuse for the four of them to do something away from Gotham. To do something to make actual use of their summer between high school and college.

If Tim went to college, that is.

He’d been accepted, sure, but he… he just didn’t know if he wanted to. It felt like there were more important things to be doing than college. College was sitting in a classroom and listening to someone drone on about a subject that Tim could crash course himself on with the right library access in a month. It also meant new people and new noises and maybe even a new home. None of that sounds great, really. Moving in with Bruce to Wayne Manor had been enough change, thank you very much.

Tim’s foot catches on something and he does a half step to keep his balance. He expects to see a tree root when he glances down. It’s bone instead. That’s not… unexpected. They had already seen deer in the woods, the creatures got stupidly close to the campsite. It would make sense that with the big rains the few weeks before, there could have been old remains uncovered. But there’s something…

The dirt brushes away easily from the surface of the bone and, with a little digging, Tim is able to pull it free of the earth.

This isn’t a deer bone.

Tim knows this shape.

This is human. A femur.

“You have to be careful where you’re walking out here.”

Tim stands and spins, the femur held like his staff would be.

The speaker is leaning against a tree several feet away. The golden, setting sun backlights them, making them look almost angelic with how they’re wreathed in light. They’re hard to look at.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Tim says, plastering on a nervous smile that was only half for show. How did they sneak up on him? That should have been impossible with the leaves and branches scattered across the forest floor. “Do you run into animal skeletons a lot out here?”

“Not really,” they say with a shrug before they start forward towards Tim. Their steps are silent. “I don’t really get around. And also, that’s not an animal skeleton.”

“No?” Tim’s grip on the femur tightens. “How do you know that?”

“How? Well, that’s because it’s mine!”

Tim swings.

The femur goes right through the stranger.

“Sorry! Little intense, I get it!” They back up a step and raise their arms. The dappled sunlight shines right through their hand. Shines right through them like the stranger is just made out of gossamer. “I get it, but be careful with that, please? It’s my arm! Or leg? No, leg.”

“Leg, it’s a femur,” Tim says, his mouth running without him as his brain works.

“Leg. Ancients, I miss having legs. And arms… and, well, anything solid really,” the stranger sighs. “I am sorry for scaring you. Just… it’s hard not to get a little intense when someone is holding one of my bones, you know?”

“Oh shit! That’s right, sorry,” Tim stammers as he hurries to put the femur back down on the disturbed earth. “Do you— I mean, should I rebury it? Did the rains washing away the earth, um, wake you up?”

“Kinda?” They tilt their head as they crouch down next to Tim.

It’s clear now, as they move a bit out of the light, how transparent they are. It’s like in the shadow they lose tangency. Their hair is still just as blinding, being bright white in a way that’s really beautiful. They reach out to touch the femur but stop short.

“I’m tied to my bones. It’s why they dumped them all the way out here. After they killed me, I mean, all the way killed me, I haunted the fuck out of them. And yeah, sure, they could hurt this form of me too, but I always found a way out and then it all started again. Burying my bones was the only way to get rid of me, and those fuckers didn’t even scratch me a headstone in the tree or anything. Some parents, huh?”

“Holy— yeah,” Tim says. Looking back down at the other partially exposed bones he has to swallow back a wave of sadness. “Is that a yes to covering them up?”

“Actually… I’d like you to dig them up. I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll get justice or whatever, but I’d… I’d like to be somewhere proper and under my name.”

“What is it? Your name?”

“Danny.”

“Okay, Danny,” Tim gives a little nod and starts digging. “My friends and I will get you somewhere you feel safe. I’m Tim, by the way.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

Danny doesn’t help dig. He can’t, he explains as Tim and him talk. While his bones are buried, he’s not able to interact with them or else he would have gotten them out of there a long time ago. They learn together that as soon as the bones are free and set gently aside that Danny can touch them.

Tim never thought he’d see someone so emotional over a tibia, but Tim can’t blame the guy. Tim figures he’d be emotional over his own bones too.

The big bones are the easiest. The ribs Tim is extra careful with. The fingers are weirdly like peanut shells in his hand. (He’s not going to eat pb&j for weeks now.) Danny chats the whole time, asking Tim about the world. Tim feels wholly inadequate to catch someone up like that, but when conversation turns to technology Tim settles into a rhythm.

It also lets them figure out that while Danny died just shy of nineteen, he’s apparently spent almost two decades in the ground. He still looks just shy of nineteen. He looks like he should be in the forest for the same reason that Tim is, celebrating the end of one era and the start of the next. Danny should be looking to the future, not mourning it.

It makes Tim pause when he finally unearths Danny’s skull. What would it have been like to see Danny smile? To hear him laugh without that faint echoing quality that he has as a ghost? To touch him?

“I’m sorry,” Tim says and holds out the skull. Danny’s skull.

“Thank you,” Danny whispers. His hands tremble as he reaches out towards the skull. He crumples forward before he can touch it, a sob tearing through him.

“I’ll make sure you’re somewhere nice.

“Thank you.” Danny lets out a breath he doesn’t have and sags forward the last inch. His forehead bumps against the skull.

Then he keeps going forward.

The world explodes into light.

-

“Tim?!”

“Are you sure he’s still alive?”

“You can see him breathing, Bernard.”

“Pulse.”

“Tim!”

Tim gasps awake and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. His friends and sister stand clustered above him. It has gotten dark and their flashlights are blinding.

“You okay?” Cass asks.

“Ow.”

“Yeah, he’s okay,” Steph sighs. “Hey Tim, who the fuck is that?”

“Wha—” Fuck his head hurts. Who the fuck is who?

Oh, the person laying in his arms. The person who’s solid and warm and alive.

Tim starts laughing.

“Okay, maybe a little not okay,” Steph amends.

“Is he ever?” Tim hears Ives mutter.

“Guys,” Tim interrupts them discussing his status once he can breathe again. “This? This is Danny.”

“Being alive again hurts,” Danny mumbles against Tim’s neck and Tim can’t help it, he just starts laughing again.

Being alive does hurt, but fuck if that isn’t wonderful sometimes.

---

AN: So this one got away from me a little but, uh... tada? I was planing to have it all explained more, but once Danny didn't purposefully do it, that didn't fit. Basically all if his frankly absurd powers and as a ghost got jump started by his skull and Tim's lifeforce and tada? 100% pulled some from Tim's Gotham Knights character where he's an awkward little bean who is so not neurotpyical. Him and Bernard taking a vacation to hunt Mothman is from that too.

Anyways, stay delightful, darlings!

[violent138]

It makes Alfred's life so much easier that most of the occupants of Wayne Manor are nocturnal. Roofers could bang away at the damaged roof and go entirely unnoticed by the sleeping occupants of the Cave. And there's no need to sneak around any staff past Bruce's paranoia when Alfred can easily let in a night crew. It goes unnoticed for years...

Tim: "Who's that guy out there? Hey Alfred!"

Duke: "Oh that's just Pete. Wave already."

Tim: *waving uncertainly* "Okay who's Pete?"

Duke: "The gardener."

Tim: "There's a gardener? Huh."

Bruce, bleary eyed and stumbling into the kitchen: "Who are you two waving-- who is that?"

Duke: "Pete."

Tim: "Wave back."

Bruce, waving: "Who's Pete?"

Duke, mildly exasperated: "Gardener. He's been here like six years."

Bruce: *decides not to question it because if Alfred's not capable of doing everything anymore, that means Alfred's not immortal, and that means Alfred could die* "Where's Alfred?"

Tim: "Don't give him a hard time about this."

Bruce, wandering into the kitchen and doing a double take when he sees the cook: "Who are you? Where's Alfred?"

Alfred, rushing down the steps: "Master Bruce! You're up early. I assume you're overreacting about the staff?"

Bruce, outraged: "You don't even make me the pancakes yourself anymore?"

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello! I was wondering if you had any more of the ghost King summon challenge au!

"Damian Wayne! You better be dressed and done here in five minutes or else!" Bruce shouted up the stairway. He was a mess of nerves, waiting for everything to go perfectly today, and his youngest was making it really hard.

Around the hire extra, staff raced about in a rushed panic, attempting to get everything in order before guests arrived. Bruce had been up for over ten hours getting everything ready, yet it still felt like time wasn't enough.

For goodness sake, he hadn't even had time to steam-press his suit!

"Where are the bloody flowers!?" He screams down the hallway. Usually, he would have been a bit embarrassed to catch himself using some of Alfred's British swearing (The man did raise him. It's why, for a few years, Bruce had a slight British accent as a child), but he can't find it in himself to care today. A poor worker organizing clothes on the pillar jumps a foot out of her skin.

"They're setting up now, Mr. Wayne," she assured me after realizing she was the only one in the hallway. "They just needed to figure out where to put the larger pieces in such a close space."

Bruce grits his teeth, biting back another less appropriate swear from his leaving his mouth. It's not the florist's fault, and certainly not this young lady's fault that they had to move the entire venue from Wayne's grounds to inside the manor, derailing all the prep work that went months into this, so he doesn't have a reason to take it out on her.

If only Gotham's weather hadn't done a complete one-eighty, everything would have been ready yesterday. Bruce hates that he has an entire satellite meant to track changes in the Speed Force that could affect the timeline as he knows it, but on Cass' special day, he couldn't realize it would rain.

Not just a drizzle. No. The stupid Gotham Skies decided today, of all days, would be perfect to crack open and release the bloody heavens.

"Good. Thank you." He says in a short clip sentence. Her smile wobbles only slightly before she makes an excuse and scurries away.

Bruce checks his watch, only to feel his eyes budge out at the new position of the hour hand. He twists around to scream up the stairs again. "DAMIAN!"

"I won't go!" His son's voice drifts down. "It's a trap!"

"For the last time, Danny forgives your family's debt now that they are marrying Cass. They are not waiting for you to lower your guard!" Bruce snaps, adjusting his suit. He has half a mind to go up there and drag his son out himself, but he just spotted the ice sculptures that were supposed to be at the end of each row where the guests were sitting at.

It would have looked lovely with Gotham's open sky and the following green of his yard, but if those fools placed them inside the grand hall, it would only look tacky.

His daughter's wedding will not look tacky!

"They want my soul!" Damian cries from above, and Bruce runs a hand through his hair. He glances around, desperate to find someone to help him, when he spots Tim chatting up one of the chefs he hired for the reception.

The blond was blushing, but there was a smile on his face as Tim leaned in close, speaking under his breath and sending the boy flirty, loaded looks. He seemed oddly familiar.

Didn't that blond go to school with Tim?

Whatever. Bruce didn't have time for that.

"Timothy Jackson Drake!" He snaps, causing his son to leap about from the chef, who looks like he got caught sneaking into the cookie jar. "Come collect your brother. Damian better be in the front row in thirty minutes or else!"

"Yes, Bruce! Right awa,y Bruce!" Tim yelps, scrambling up the stairway. There is a distant sound of screaming, then a few crashes the second he reaches the top, but Bruce knows he will not fail him.

He rushes to the grand ballroom hall, relieved to find the decorators hadn't put the statues on the end of the seating rows like he feared. Inside, they created a path leading into the doors, using the statues like pillars and leaving tastefully white clothes dropped from one to the other.

Inside, the grand ballroom hall looks like a winter wonderland, with soft white and ice blue decorating every inch of the room. Cass and Danny decided to make their wedding winter theme due to Danny's ice core and the fact that they met in winter.

Staff crowded every inch of the room, adding things, moving things, taking things, and speaking quickly and hurriedly. He knows he's a little stressed, but he will more than make it up to all of them for this quick and excellent service.

As a bonus, he'll rent an amusement park for them and their families for a full day. He'll have to make sure to include free meals and some tickets for the rides.

In the center of the room stood Jason, equipped with a clipboard and a headset, barking orders at the multiple staff members running about.

"Pam, I love those ice crystals," He says to a woman who was busy dangling them from the top of the highest pillars. She beams down from her perch at the top of the latter, which is at least fifteen feet long. Jason taps his headset. "How are we doing on the light and music synchronization, Timmy? Great! Remember, I want the lights to go up with every step she takes down the aisle."

Jason flips through some paper on his clipboard, adjusts his headset, and says, "Have we set up the smoke machines yet!? Cass is walking down that aisle in twenty minutes! Alight, thank you, I appreciate you."

Jason pauses, listening to whatever the other people in his headset are saying before he throws his hands up. "I don't care if the guests are getting impatient. They don't come in here until we finish. Don't worry. I'll gladly go out there myself to yell at them. "

He seems like he has a handle on things. Bruce is rather grateful that his second eldest manages to snag Duke and Cullen on his way to scream at Gotham elites. He knows they are the only ones throwing a fit about the delay due to the weather change.

None of Cass and Danny's actually beloved gusts would mind.

"B!" Dick calls, already dressed in his light blue suit. It looks lovely with the white tie and vest that can be seen underneath his suit jacket. "Danny is ready to go, and Cass is just getting her hair and make-up touched up again."

Bruce's heart launches. "My baby is getting married in twenty minutes."

Dick's smile is bright. "She is!"

Bruce's face crumbles as his eyes water. "My baby is getting married in twenty minutes."

His son's eyes widened, and he looked horror-struck. He presses a hand against his chest as though clutching nonexistent pearls. "She is."

"To think this all came to be because Kon sent that trend to try." Bart laughs, stepping beside them openly to gawk at the sight of the two heroes. "Are you two crying?"

"The mighty Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson crying," Kon perks up from where he was lodging at a nearby table. He had come in earlier to move the heavier pieces before any civilian could see him and was taking a break. "I never thought I see the day-"

"You did this!" Bruce snapped at the young man. Kon held up his hands, offering a nervous smile as the man rounded on him. "My baby is getting married because you sent Tim that video!"

"um.....Before I respond to this accusation, how many green stones do you have on you?"

A loud crash distracted Bruce from responding, seeing as it was followed by Damian's loud wailing. "No! No! I want to live!"

"Danny is not going to kill you!" Tim's frustrated voice screams back, "They never did!"

"I'll handle that." Dick sighs, rubbing his eyes clean. He pats Bruce's shoulder, taking him out of Kon's face- and earning a grateful nod from the clone. "You need to go meet up with Cass. You're walking her down the aisle in ten minutes."

Bruce runs towards his daughter's room, barely missing, running into Jazz, who flies by with a Ghost King Royal Cape. Today is going to be a fantastic day despite the stress.

[niwaart]

DOCTOR!MALE!READER X BATFAM

[Part1 - Part2 - Part3 - Part4 - Part5 - part6...]

#############################

Y/N groaned as he stumbled into the hospital staff hallway, rubbing his tired eyes. Last night's Wayne family dinner had been a disaster—stealing a cake, a food fight, and Damian trying to stab Tim with a fork. He just wanted to get to his office, drink his orange juice in peace, and forget about it all.

But the universe had other plans.

As soon as he stepped into the hallway, Sammy, his usually calm assistant, grabbed his arm and dragged him into the pantry.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Sammy whispered in panic. "Do you have any idea what's going on right now?!"

Y/N blinked. "Um... no? Did anyone die?"

Sammy shoved a newspaper into his hands.

The front-page headline:

《《Bruce Wayne's Secret Doctor? Mysterious man spotted leaving Wayne Manor late at night! 》》

Below, there was a blurry but clear image of Y/N sneaking out of Wayne Manor, his bag suspiciously stuffed with what appeared to be stolen goods (which were actually Alfred's cookies).

Y/N's stomach lurched. "Oh. Oh no."

Sammy groaned. "Oh no?! That's all you have to say?! The entire Gotham press is out, convinced you're Bruce Wayne's personal psychiatrist! The hospital board is panicking, the nurses are cackling, and—"

A loud thump echoed from the front hall.

Both men froze.

"Dr. Y/N! Are you treating Bruce Wayne for a mental illness?!" a reporter shouted from outside.

"Is he unstable? Is that why he adopted so many children?!" another reporter said.

Y/N slowly turned to Sammy. "...I think I need to fake my death."

Sammy grabbed his shoulders. "No. What you need is a statement—something to make them go away!"

Y/N rubbed his temples. "Like what? 'Sorry, I'm not a therapist, I'm just his bastard son and I went to him for cake?'"

Sammy gave him a blank stare. "...Maybe you're ignoring the bastard son and cake part."

Y/N hoped the reporters would get bored and leave.

They didn't.

Instead, they multiplied.

By noon, the hospital lobby was packed—reporters shoving microphones at anyone wearing a lab coat, cameras flashing, and sweating security guards holding back the crowd.

Y/N, hiding behind a potted plant, watched in horror as an overly aggressive reporter cornered a terrified intern.

Reporter: "Is it true that Dr. Y/N is using the experimental treatment on Bruce?!"

"I—I don't know, I'm just getting coffee—" the intern said, panicking.

Y/N grumbled. "This is a nightmare."

Sammy, his auras appearing dark circles under his eyes, he muttered, "You think? The council is threatening to suspend you until this 'gets sorted out.'"

Y/N's eye twitched. "Suspending me?! Why? For my presence?!"

Sammy sighed. "For causing a media frenzy that harmed the hospital's operations."

Y/N opened his mouth to argue—

**Bzzzzt.**

His phone vibrated. A text message notification lit up the screen.

Unknown number:

"Turn on channel 5 now."

Y/N frowned, grabbed the remote in the break room, and flipped to the local news.

Newscaster (on screen):

"Breaking news—Wayne Enterprises has just released an official statement regarding the rumors surrounding Bruce Wayne and Dr. Y/N Wayne of Gotham General Hospital."

The video cut to a pre-recorded video of Lucius Fox, standing in front of the Wayne Enterprises logo.

Lucius Fox said calmly, "Contrary to recent speculation, Dr. Wayne is not, and has never been, Bruce Wayne's personal psychiatrist. He was invited to Wayne Manor as part of a special charity initiative for the pediatric wing of Gotham General Hospital. Any other claims are baseless and irresponsible.”

Y/N was surprised.

Sammy whistled. “Oh my God. Bruce Wayne saved you.”

Y/N stared at the screen, torn between relief and skepticism. “...Why?”

Sammy shrugged. “Maybe because you’re his son?”

Y/N snorted. “I doubt it. He doesn’t seem to want the press to explore his secrets.”

By evening, the reporters had finally dispersed, though some lingered outside, hoping for a scoop.

Y/N sat in his office, exhausted, staring at the last remaining cupcake he’d smuggled out of Wayne Manor.

“Okay,” Sammy said, looking at Y/N. “Now what?”

Y/N took a slow bite of the cupcake. “And now? Pretend it never happened."

Sammy raised an eyebrow. "And the next time Bruce Wayne invites you to dinner?"

Y/N chewed the muffin thoughtfully. "...I'll get a bigger bag for the muffin."

Sammy grumbled. "You're hopeless."

Y/N smirked. "But you love me."

"That's debatable," Sammy said wearily as he walked out of the office.

At Wayne Manor, Bruce sat at his desk, watching the news coverage fade on his tablet.

"That was...uncharacteristically kind of you, Master Bruce," Alfred said coldly.

Bruce sighed. "The last thing I need is for the press to associate him with me in the wrong way."

Dick leaned into the cave entrance. "Or...maybe you didn't want your son to be bullied?"

Bruce glared at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Dick grinned. "Of course, B. Anything to help you sleep at night."

Bruce ignored him and went back to his tablet. But as he watched the last reporter leave Gotham General Hospital, a small, almost imperceptible smile spread across his lips.

############################

Side story:

Dick: [sends article link] GUYS LOOK Y/N BEING KIDNAPPED BY RED HOOD 

Tim: That’s not kidnapping. That’s a rescue. 

Damian: Tt. He’s weak. 

Steph: Aww, Jason’s being a protective big bro! 

Jason: SHUT UP. 

Bruce:…Is he safe? 

Jason: Yeah, yeah. He’s complaining about missing his cupcakes. 

Y/N (added to chat): I HEARD THAT. 

Dick: WELCOME TO THE FAMILY GROUP CHAT, BIG BRO! 

Y/N: …I hate all of you. 

[Y/N has left the chat.]

Jason: He’ll be back. 

Tim: Yeah. For Alfred’s cake. 

[Bruce Wayne has sent a photo of a triple-layer chocolate cake.]

[Y/N has rejoined the chat.]

Y/N: …Fine. But I’m bringing my own fork

############################

@roxy776699 @missmannequin @theultimatezazasniffer @chericia @mybones537 @thegothamsiren

@eyeless-kun @thegothamsiren @a-brilliante-mariposa @s4raahi @s0ggyrate @glasscurrents @iiriam5 @f33rumm