Damian Wayne Comes Across A Classic Christmas Carol Known Well Among The Children Of Gotham… Pt [1/?]

Shermie Pines, seeing Stanford for the first time: I can't believe it! Stanley Pines, back from the dead!

Stanford: oh, right. Yes. Tis I. Stanley Pines.

Stanley, rolling his eyes: okay, so admittedly I took my brother's identity. I'm Stanley, that's Stanford

Dipper and Mabel's mom, gasping: why on Earth would you lie about something like that?!

Stanley: to be so real with you, I was really drunk when I was put in charge of making that gravestone. In my defense, Stanford and Stanley are two very similar names

Dipper and Mabel's dad: I'm having a hard time processing this. Where have you been hiding all this time? And why?

Stanley: uh, he was in witness protection! He was hiding from his, uhm, crazy ex!

Shermie: that's awful! Your ex was so bad that you needed to go into witness protection?

Stanford: Bill didn't take the divorce well.

Bruce picks up the habit of casual shows of affection from Dick. It starts with little things, just a pat on the shoulder or ruffling Dick’s hair. With Jason, he pulls his son into half hugs. With Tim, he’ll drop a kiss on the top of his head. Damian, kisses to the cheek or forehead.

He doesn’t really think about it most of the time. His body simply moves, and his kids peek up at him with a smile, embarrassed blush, shock, or scowl. And Bruce just smiles warmly at them because he loves his kids. He can’t say it out loud, the words getting trapped on the tip of his tongue, but he can certainly show it through his actions.

Bruce’s casual affection isn’t a problem. At least, it doesn’t start as one. It’s not until it starts to extend outside of his family.

Kon look at him with utter confusion and shock when Batman ruffles his hair and offers him a ‘good job, kid’. Jon leans into Bruce when he presses a kiss to the top of his head, giggling as it tickles slightly. Wally and Roy get half hugs and a pat on the shoulder, and they exchange looks of confusion. No one says anything about it because as strange as it is, they’re not particularly bothered. If anything, they might even like it.

And then it gets worse.

Batman kisses Superman’s cheek and smiles so openly, so warmly. “You’re amazing.”

Clark doesn’t move a muscle. His eyes are wide, staring at the man he’s so undeniably in love with despite the fact that he’s never been able to say it out loud. He’s almost tempted to pinch himself, check if he’s dreaming or hallucinating. Because Bruce is being so sweet.

He doesn’t get a chance to comment on it because Robin stomps his way forward and grabs Batman’s hand, tugging him away. Bruce goes easily, leaning down to kiss Damian as well, and the boy most certainly doesn’t preen under the attention and easy affection of his father. What he does do is look over his shoulder and glare at Clark, as if to say ‘he’s mine.’

As Bruce grows older into his 50's or 60's the paparazzi and people crowding him becomes less and he thinks that people have finally decided that Bruce is too old to be attractive or mainstream and he's actually super fine with it and makes jokes( more like sarcastic remarks) about it. But in reality they've grown more freaky cause instead of looking wrinkly and a sappy old man the level of cunt he serves grows everyday,he doesn't look like a snack he looks like a buffet, 13 year olds are using his pics as the cover pages of their mafia wattpad stories, he looks majestic, absolute dilf, we don't talk about the amount of tags he's birthed just by ageing on ao3, and hes still an absolute UNIT, the reason he's not heard about it yet cause the batkids are blocking the shit OUT with all of their will and strength cause it doesn't matter if all of them are full grown adults they're still all like-THATSMYDADGETAWAYFROMHIMHEDOESN'THAVETIMEFORYOUHESBUSYBEINGOURDAD

Bruce, adopting Dick: Aw-w, what a sweet little kid! Surely, he is so polite, and—

Dick, the instance he gets in the battle: You fucking disappointment of a person, and (string of curses on his mother language)

Bruce: Oh. Okay.

Bruce, adopting Jason: Well, Jason was well-mannered and soft-spoken so far, so, maybe—

Jason to the random goon: You motherfucking asshole, I am going to shove this boa to your—

Bruce: Right. Okay.

Bruce, making Stephanie his Robin: Maybe...

Stephanie, using the same street language Jason did, if not worse: I FUCKED YOUR MOM, YOU SON OF A—

Bruce: Whatever.

Bruce, eying suspiciously quiet Tim, who came to interrogate the goon for the first time as a Robin: ?

Tim, the minute door closed behind him: Listen to me, you pathetic excuse of a man, I am going to fuck you up, in an—

Bruce, sighing: Yeah. Honestly. Whatever.

Bruce, staring at angry Damian, who looks like he is about to explode, but keeps up as much as he can: Go on, chump. Say what you want.

Damian, staring at the floor with the deadliest stare ever: Not to sound unbecoming, but... Loser. -_-

Bruce, flabbergasted: ...Okay.

Alfred, looking at Damian: he looks more like his grandparent everyday

Cass: Ra's?

Alfred: no, miss Cassandra, his other grandparent

Cass: *confused head tilt* uh?

Hours later:

Alfred: *doing chores*

Corrie: *runs in* there you are!

Alfred: *takes extinguisher* is something wrong?

Corrie: no, no, all's fine, we just needed you a second, I found him!!

Everybody runs into the room, Jason steps forward while holding Damian by the armpits, leveling his face with Alfred's

Damian, hopefully: so?

Corrie: right th- no, that's not it...

Steph: if you squint... maybe?

Tim: if you tilt your head kinda... no

Jason:... *sigh* nope, I don't see it

Damian: tt perhaps the suit wasn't such an horrendous idea

Steph: a moustache?

Dick: don't worry, I know you will grow on it

Bruce: what's going on?

Cass: Alfred said Damian was growing to look like grandpa, so we wanted to check... *frowns* but he doesn't look like Alfred

Bruce walks into the kitchen one day at breakfast and sticks a golden star right on Dick’s forehead.

Silence overtakes all of his kids as they stare incredulously because what the actual fuck??

“B?” Dick questioned warily, going crossed eyed as he tried to stare at the star in his forehead.

“Congratulations Dickie, you have successfully made only five death threats to individuals this entire week.” Bruce said solemnly, patting Dick on the head before turning to face his other children.

“Unfortunately, I will not be giving out any more gold stars.” Bruce’s eyes gazed at his children, particularly staying on Jason and Damian for a second longer than anyone else’s.

“Wha-? What about me??” Duke protested, throwing down his fork, a small splatter of syrup splashing onto the new wood varnish.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Duke, I’m Batman.”

“Right.” Duke muttered, slumping back down in his chair. “Stupid pickpocketers, next time I’ll make sure they can’t squeal.”

“Father! I demand a recount!” Damian’s chair squeaked loudly as he shot up from it, his small face set in a stubborn frown so similar to Bruce’s. “Grayson made two death threats to thugs on patrol yesterday.”

“Fucking tattle tale!” Duck hissed, grabbing his forehead and scampering away from Bruce, just in case he tried to take away his good star.

Bruce nodded and looked thoughtful. “Hmm, seven death threats… I’ll allow it. However, seven has become the cap in order to get a gold star.”

“One for everyday of the week!” Jason grinned, his eyes zeroing in on a barely awake Tim. “And since I’m long past the threshold…” Bruce slapped him on the back of the head, making him curse.

Cass tugs on Bruce’s sleeve and points to herself, the silent question very loud. “No Cass, your whole existence is a threat but also Stephanie likes to talk.”

Cass clicks her tongue and sits back down, phone already in hand, probably texting Stephanie about her betrayal.

“Looks like Dick is winning.” Bruce stated, suppressing a smirk as all of his kids heads whipped around and stared at him. Of course they would take the bait, there were as competitive as he was.

Even Tim now looked mostly aware of what was happening.

“It’s a new week, good luck.” Bruce nodded, walking out of the dining room, a grin breaking out across his face as the room erupted with noise.

Damian is 8 years old when he first comes to live with his father. He’s all harsh glares, standoffish arm folding, and clever barbs aimed at everyone’s vulnerable points. He’s also adorable. Small enough for Bruce to pick up with little to no effort, with big green eyes and baby fat still in his cheeks.

Bruce is overwhelmed with emotions he’s terrible at expressing; shock at the fact that he has a biological child, furious that said child was kept from him for 8 years, devastated that the child was robbed of a normal upbringing and instead raised in a cult of death and devout loyalty to a madman, and overjoyed that this little boy has his nose, his eyebrows, and the same black curls he got from Martha Wayne. He mourns the moments and milestones he’s missed. First steps, first word, potty training, learning to read and write. He doesn’t even know if Damian can ride a bike.

Then, six months into living with Bruce, Damian loses a tooth. A lateral incisor, by the looks of it. Not because of a hit to the face or a Robin-related incident—no, it’s just the natural, logical conclusion to a loose baby tooth Damian hadn’t mentioned having until he bit into an apple at breakfast and pop! Out comes the tooth, stuck to the apple, leaving the boy with a gap just left of center in his smile.

This hasn’t happened since Dick. Jason and Tim had lost all their baby teeth before Bruce took them in, but Dick had been so young. Bruce remembers the angry 9 year old who just wanted revenge marching to the Cave, presenting him with a molar and pouting silently for hours. It had taken a mug of hot chocolate to get him to admit that Mary Grayson always sang him a special song when he lost a baby tooth, to congratulate him for being one step closer to adulthood, but he couldn’t remember all the words and Bruce, my mama’s not here, who do I give my teeth to? What do I do now?

Bruce has no idea what Talia did when Damian lost baby teeth. All he knows is that he’s on his feet and rushing toward the boy and getting his arms around him and—

“Father!” Damian will never admit to the indignant squawk that escapes him when Bruce plucks him from his seat and holds him close. “Are you—“

Bruce settles Damian on his hip with one arm and cards his other hand through the boy’s soft curls. He breathes in the scent of apple shampoo and oatmeal soap while peppering his forehead with kisses.

“I will get you a new pet,” he says softly, resting his cheek atop his son’s head. “A kitten, a puppy, anything you want. Just…let me have this, baby boy.”

Damian instantly stops protesting. He huffs and pouts—which, oh my fucking God, how is he so precious?—as he wraps his arms around his father’s neck.

“That is…acceptable,” he grumbles. Bruce kisses his cheek and smiles into his hair.

That’s how Damian gets Titus.

when she says she doesn’t send nudes

some things never change :3

"Oh, Damian was such an asshole" "The bats tried to integrate him he's just ungrateful!" "He had no reason to be as rough or rude as he was"

If I was raised as a prince and suddenly got sent away to the most corrupt, dangerous, and disgusting city in bumfuck New Jersey, I would be worse. The fact that he didn't burn that bitch down makes him a better man than I could ever be

If anything, he didn't crash out enough