Chapter 1: Prologue
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Damian.
Damian arrived on Bruce's doorstep not longer than five weeks ago, and already, he was feeling an unfamiliar pang of homesickness. It was the longest he'd ever been away from Ahki.
Still, he was trying to get his footing in the sprawling Manor.
Wayne Manor wasn’t what he expected. He’d prepared for something colder—stiff, over-decorated, impersonal. His grandfather had called it a mausoleum; his mother spoke of it like a relic. But the truth was… Wayne Manor felt alive.
It was more colorful than Ahki had described. More than just a place for show or a fallback safehouse—it had a heartbeat. There was always sound, even in the silence. Distant laughter echoing from another wing. The screeches of his family sparring. Damian watched them sometimes, always from a distance. He told himself it was to observe their mistakes, to avoid making the same ones. But deep down, he knew it was more than that.
The Manor had a rhythm. A kind of warmth. Not threatening—just… unfamiliar.
After a month, certain things became routine. Alfred greeted him every morning with that same calm voice, offering eggs and tea whether Damian accepted or not. Grayson texted him more than any human reasonably should, usually with memes he didn’t understand, or pestering him to come along to the movies.
But Ahki—a stable part of his life, someone he looked up to even if he’d never say it aloud—wasn’t here. And no one really talked about that.
From Ahki’s stories, Damian knew he had once lived in this Manor. That much had always been clear. So when Damian arrived, he made it his mission to find Ahki’s old room—despite Ahki’s clear instructions not to.
Damian called it proof. If the stories were real, if the room was real, then so was everything Ahki had ever told him.
The first few nights, he wandered the halls. He told himself it was tactical—memorizing floorplans, assessing exits, identifying weak points. But each time he passed the room at the end of the hall—the one that stayed locked—his pace slowed.
Suspicion grew. And one day, curiosity won.
He snuck in. For a family of vigilantes, their lock systems were disappointingly average.
Inside was a room frozen in time. Not dusty, not decayed—just untouched. Preserved. A snapshot of a life paused mid-step.
Ahki’s old clothes. Books. Photos. One of him and Grayson, blurry but smiling. One of him eating a burger with way too much ketchup. One—Damian stared at it for longer than he meant to—of Ahki in casual clothes, sitting with Father, the two of them sharing ice cream.
That one, he took.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Footsteps echoed faintly from the hallway. Time to disappear. Damian climbed out the window, landed silently, and reentered the Manor through the main doors to avoid suspicion.
Tucked under his jacket was the photo—warm, worn, and his now.
Mother and Ahki had told him not to share Ahki’s return. Not yet. Not with them. But Damian had decided: if someone asked, he would tell the truth.
And maybe, someday, this house would feel whole again.
Chapter 2: Bruce-First Victim
Summary:
Basically, Bruce is worried about his son being sad. Damian answers truthfully, just makes Bruce more confused.
Notes:
Okay! Its done! (This chapter) thank you for the support!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
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Bruce.
To put it simply, Bruce was worried.
His youngest son had been at the Manor for a considerable amount of time, yet Damian still spent most of his days moping around the house. Aside from that, he seemed fine — he stuck close to Dick, snapped at Tim with a surprisingly sharp vocabulary, and kept mostly to himself.
Bruce couldn’t help but note silently, that if Jason were still alive, he would’ve probably adjusted to life at the Manor more quickly. Jason’s sharp tongue and reckless nature might’ve even complemented Damian’s equally biting wit — though Damian’s was softened by a analytical edge that Jason rarely had.
Being the emotionally constipated person he was, Bruce kept careful track of all the times Damian moped around — but, of course, never actually talked to him about it.
That was, until one day, he was once again recording Damian’s broodings (like any good parent, obviously), when Dick wandered over, stretching his arms and yawning.
“You know, B,” Dick said, “it’d be a lot easier to just talk to him instead of creepily stalking your own son.”
Bruce grumbled something under his breath, vaguely citing, “It’s surveillance. I’m trying to keep my son safe.”
With a wave of his hand, Bruce tried to dismiss Dick from his side — but Dick planted his heels (wait, does he even have heels?) firmly on the ground.
“B,” Dick said flatly, “you’ve been at that computer for over two hours, just monitoring every single time Dami hangs his head, frowns, or scowls. And let’s be honest — Dami scowls a lot. You’re going to be up here all night. If you don’t sleep, I’m telling Alfred.”
Bruce stiffened for a second before letting out a long-suffering sigh. He stood up from his hunched position in front of the Batcomputer and stretched, working out the small cricks in his back.
“Is there a need for you to threaten me like that?” he deadpanned.
Dick just grinned. “Come on, old man. I don’t want to see your face down here.” He stifled a yawn.
When Bruce turned to look at him, Dick just shrugged. “A man needs his beauty sleep.”
Bruce murmured, “Tim would’ve approved.”
“Of what? Your bat-habits or you stalking who he calls ‘the demon brat’?” Dick shot back.
“Both, Dick. Both.”
(Morning. Or whatever counts as morning time for the Bats.)
As usual, Alfred called each member down to eat. Bruce had his black coffee and a slice of toast. Dick was devouring pancakes with a passion, syrup flooding his plate like a crime scene. Damian sat primly with fruit and yogurt, paired with a carefully brewed blend of tea, looking utterly disgusted at Dick’s sticky mess.
Tim only wandered in much later, having stayed up all night. He forgot breakfast even existed until Alfred shoved a plate at him—he settled for coffee strong enough to kill a man and a stale bagel.
With a little—a lot—of help from Dick, Damian had been successfully lured into a room with Ace, Alfred, and a set of art materials. Bruce, however, had been shoved inside with the blade of Dick’s shoulder, the door slammed shut behind him. Dick locked it, buying himself a few precious seconds to run.
Bruce had hoped he might slip out unnoticed, but Damian had already looked up at the commotion. He turned curiously, catching sight of his father standing there awkwardly.
“Father, do you need something?”
“I just… well…” Bruce’s voice faltered. “You seemed more moody and brooding of late. Do—do you want to talk about it?”
From his post in the hallway, Dick—who had circled back to eavesdrop once the coast was clear—bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Bruce Wayne. Batman. ‘I am vengeance.’ Reduced to a blustering teenager by the prospect of one (1) heartfelt talk with his son.
Damian tilted his head slightly before deciding to answer truthfully, as he had promised himself he would, about Ahki.
“I miss my Ahki.”
Bruce solemnly nodded, trying to look like he understood. Internally, he was panicking. None of his contingency plans had prepared him for this. Ahki? Brother? When did he have another son with Talia?
Noticing the flicker of confusion on Bruce’s face, Damian elaborated. “Ahki always guarded me and played with me. He would sleep on the floor of my room to keep me safe. But some nights he would whine so much that he had to sleep outside instead.” Damian purposefully kept his words vague, making it sound like he could be talking about anyone—but if Bruce knew Jason well, he should be able to figure it out.
Bruce, on the other hand, latched onto a single word: whine. Relief washed over him. Of course. A dog. Damian must be talking about a childhood pet. Not another secret child. Not another heir Talia forgot to mention. Just… a dog. And really, who else could sleep in Damian’s room without being immediately kicked out?
Damian leaned back, satisfied, certain his father would put the pieces together.
Bruce nodded solemnly. “Thank you for telling me, Damian.”
Damian smiled, relieved to finally get the secret off his chest—one way or another.
Damian collected the paints, and headed off to his room.
Notes:
:) thanks for reading my fic I'll see you tomorrow with half(or a quarter) a fic! Next victim-Tim!
Chapter 3: Sorry not a chapter :(
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Hey guys, how are y’all? I’ve been such a procrastinator, and my major exams are here! This sucks :( so I won’t be really posting until I just have that woosh of dopamine and I’ll get stuff done(hopefully) so you guys are going to have to wait.
Aaaaaannndddd… to thank you for putting up with me, imma recommend some fics! Some popular some not. Eh.
Jason Todd was captured by the Joker. Bruce, Oracle, and Dick searched high and low, for three months and haven't found a trace of him. Then one night, Oracle recieves an anonymous file, addressed to Batman, and forwards it to him. What is inside, his terrifying footage of Jason being tortured and then killed...seemingly. Dick doesn't believe it. He doesn't know how, why, or anything else, except that something tells him that Jason is alive.
Steph: All I’m saying is, if you ever want to kiss the guy, maybe stop digging through his trash.
Tim: I literally said he might turn into a rogue! How does that translate to "I want to kiss him," Steph?
Steph: I dont know, maybe the eighteen minutes you spent talking about his eyes?
Wingless Bat, or Bat without wings? By Amaimonachan5 its a wannabe wing fic, but nice nontheless
Batman had made many mistakes during his early years, some bigger than others, but he learned his lessons along the way. One of those mistakes had been adding artificial wings to his suit, which only lasted for two weeks before he retired them, Bruce decided gliding was more than enough for him.
But then, he lets it slip he knows what flying is like, and the Justice League notices, and sleep-deprived bat responds less than eloquently.
Or
The Justice League believes somebody clipped Batman's very-real-biological wings, some are out for blood.
After Danny Fenton's parents were sentenced to federal prison for their crimes, Danny finds himself moving to dreary Gotham City to live with his godfather, Vlad Masters.
Only something is going on in Gotham and all of it seems to center around the mysterious Wayne family. Not only that but Danny finds himself becoming more and more interested in the elusive Wayne son, Timothy Drake-Wayne.
A Classic Cold Brew by Chimie_Chat. And hey, it’s Jon/Damian! It’s no powers and an AU
The one thing any sixteen year old wants is a car. Jon Kent is no exception. He gets a summer job at a coffee shop in Metropolis in order to save up. He's expecting a long summer of long hours at minimum wage. What he doesn't expect is the big city crazies, the sheer number of frappuccinos, and a very attractive regular.
Danny had ended up trespassing in Jason's haunt. He didn't mean to. Total accident, he swears. (He blames Johnny.) So he bought the other halfa a basket of bathbombs and chocolate as a 'sorry, please don't disembowel me' gift. It was the proper thing to do, alright?
Everything was going to be just fine.
Then things got a little out of hand.
Danny’s looking at him like he’s crazy. His hair’s dried up into a mess of waves, and there’s some tomato seeds on the corner of his mouth. “You just bailed me out of jail. And you think this is a good idea?”
“I don’t have bad ideas, Fenton. And like you’ve just said, I have collateral on you.”
“So you’re blackmailing me into pretending to date you?”
Tim shrugs. “Or you could just sign the NDA.”
OR
Danny's trying to recover all the shards to an entity's chalice so that it'll stop destroying the zone while tensions rise amongst his subjects- and trying to finish high school.
Tim's juggling his case load, his work as CEO, and does not have time to be embroiled in a sex scandal right now. If that means he has to pretend to date a very suspicious heir to a rival company, then so be it.
It's a mutually beneficial relationship. So what if Tim's becoming a little too intrigued by the illusive, powerful Phantom? So what if Danny can't stand the Justice League for leaving him to deal with all of Amity's problems when he was just 14? That's a superhero thing.
And their fake boyfriend has no clue that they're a superhero.
While walking home from an event at Wayne Enterprises, Tim and Damian are kidnapped and sent to an alternate dimension. In a world where superheroes are merely comic book characters and the idea of the multiverse is only a theory found within the pages of science fiction, how are Tim and Damian going to return home? How long will they be stranded on this strange Earth? And will the boys murder each other before they figure it out?
Thats all for now. I’ll be adding more soon (I hope) bye!