It just occurred to me that the other people in the wayne manor do in fact have to deal with Damian’s pets and that about half of them are not told about the new pets until they run into them when they’re sleep deprived
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Tim, hasn’t slept for 2 days, walking into the kitchen:
Jerry the turkey, perched on the counter:
Tim: who the fuck are you??
Jerry, running off the counter and dashing around the kitchen:
Tim: what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-
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Steph, talking to Cass: I mean yeah if he fucked up that bad-
Steph, opens back door:
The infamous batcow: 0.0
Steph: …
Cass: …
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Jason, laying face down on his bed:
Titus, appears As two eyes in the dark:
Jason, looking up:
Jason: satan?
Titus, licking his face:
Jason: Satan’s a hellhound cool
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Duke, chilling in the cave:
Damian, walking past with Lucy on his shoulder: duke, can you take this?
Duke, not paying attention: hm? Sure
Damian, hands him Lucy and walks off: thanks
Duke:
Duke: when did you get this.
Duke: what are you??
Lucy: :p
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Babs, waiting for the elevator back up from the cave:
Elevator, opens:
Batcow, steps out the elevator:
Babs: oh hello?
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Dick, sitting on a chandelier:
Alfred the cat: ?
Dick, did not see Alfred: Jesus-
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Damian: hey can you watch wiggles for a bit?
Maps, expecting a snake: oh you got a new pet? Sure
Wiggles, a big ass dragon: :D
Maps:
Maps: Damian what the freak
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Cass, sat in a tree:
Babs: what are you doing?
Cass: nothing
Babs: …sure
The strangely angry Jerry at the bottom of the tree:
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Duke, laying on the floor with batcow humming the polish cow song:
Tim: how did that get in here
Duke: ?
Tim: we’re on the third floor how did it-
Duke: walked
Tim: ???
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Bruce:
Bruce: Damian when I said you can get another pet I didn’t mean-
Damian: you said I could keep Goliath
Bruce: that was before I knew she’s a dragon
Damian: I don’t see how that’s relevant
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Tim: ok so I figured out Damian’s pet naming system
Dick: right?
Tim: there’s the fancy names, like Titus and Goliath
Tim: there’s the people names, Jerry, Alfred and Lucy
Tim: then there’s the ‘names by a kid’ names, like wiggles and batcow
Tim: the ones in that sector scare me
Dick, thinking about when he woke up to batcow looming over his bed: I agree with that
summary: you go to wayne manor to find why your boyfriend is ignoring your calls to find him taking a nap with some furry friends
warnings: mentions of a slaughterhouse, damian being a little softie, I don't think anything else...enjoy 😉
"Do you know where Damian is? He hasn't answered any of my calls."
"Good afternoon to you as well, Miss y/n." Alfred withdrew the jacket from your shoulders before hanging it up.
A flush colored your cheeks at your poor manners. The Wayne butler was nothing if proper and he made sure to encourage everyone to be the same. "Sorry, Alfred. How are you?" you corrected, offering a polite smile.
The butler nodded in approval. "I'm fairing well, thank you. Now, you were looking for Master Damian, weren't you?"
"He was going to come by my place so we could get lunch." You rubbed your forehead, curious as to where your boyfriend would have ran off to. His location said he was at home and his car was still there, but you'd been trying to reach him for the past hour and a half and radio silence. Either he was distracted with something like training or sketching or had intentionally skipped out on you.
"Have you seen him at all today?" you ask Alfred, already making your way up the grand staircase.
Alfred stood at the bottom step, hands clasped behind his back and face set in his customary neutral expression. Despite his bored look, the older man cared deeply about his job and the family that came with it. "Last I saw him was at breakfast. He spoke briefly with Master Bruce about his latest rescue and then scampered off to do who-knows-what as he does."
"Another rescue?"
You hadn't heard anything about this when he had texted you goodnight.
Alfred hid an amused chuckle behind his fist. "Last night on patrol, Master Damian came upon a rather, ahem, large cow at an abandoned slaughterhouse."
Most people wouldn't believe it, but Damian Wayne had a habit of finding and taking in lost animals. It had begun when his father had gifted him a cat, which he named Alfred, and then his Great Dane, Titus, and so on.
Apparently, he now had a cow.
Unsurprising.
"I assume Bruce wasn't too pleased to have to find a way to house this cow?" you smiled, only able to imagine the fun conversation that must have taken place over the comms. You would have to beg Oracle for the recordings later.
Alfred let his lips tip to one side. "He's gone through two coffee pots already."
"I'm assuming wherever I find this cow is where I'll find Damian?"
"Most likely. The young master is probably removing all meat from the perimeter as he has made the proud decision to become vegetarian. His brothers won't be too happy with the impending menus."
You let your laughter follow you as you ascended to stairs, intent on finding your wayward boyfriend and his new friend.
Damian had a strong personality. After living like royalty all of his life and being given everything on a silver platter, he could be arrogant at times and often believed his word was law. Coming to live with his father had somewhat softened his pomposity, what with learning to live with siblings and taking on the responsibilities that came with protecting Gotham. If he wanted to house a cow, he would find a way. And if he wanted to pursue vegetarianism, he would find a way to make it miserable for everyone who ate meat around him.
While you walked down the corridor, Dick stepped out of his room, car keys in hand. "Oh! Hey Damian's girlfriend."
Regardless of the fact that you and Damian had been together for over six months, his brothers still love to tease you. To them, anyone who managed to put up with Damian enough to be with him romantically was a saint.
"Hey, Dick. Have you seen Damian? Alfred said he should be home."
Dick swung his keys around one finger and thought for a moment. "Umm, I haven't seen Dami today. I just returned from patrol not even an hour ago and I have to go to WayneTech to attend a meeting."
"Thanks for nothing." You teased.
"Any time." He shot you a wide smile. "But if you do find him, tell him I'm not giving up bacon." He gave a wink and left.
You continued down the hallway and opened Damian's bedroom door to find it empty. The only sign he had been in there was the sketchbook and charcoal sitting on his immaculately made bed. Curious, considering he had a penchant for putting everything back once he was finished.
Your eyes roved about until they landed on the nightstand where his phone sat, cluing you in as to why he hadn't answered you.
"Where are you?" you murmured under your breath.
A soft meow came from the doorway and you turned to find Alfred--well, cat Alfred, that is.
"Where is your owner, hm?" you scratched behind his ears, smiling at his soft purrs. He was the cutest tuxedo cat with a black fur mustache to match his namesake.
Cat Alfred seemed to have understood your question as he sauntered down the hallway, white-tipped tail swaying in invitation for you to follow, so you did.
He led you to the first floor, through the dining room and out onto the back patio. With your coat inside hanging up, you had to put your hand over your brow to shield the rain from blurring your vision as you followed the feline towards the small shed sitting a ways beyond the manor.
As soon as you neared, Alfred scratched at the wooden door. You pushed them open and stepped inside to find the most bewitching scene.
Laying on a blanket on the floor was a cute little orange and white cow, small horns sprouting from her fluffy head. Sidled up beside her was Titus, the large, grey dog snoring softly in his sleep. And nestled in between them was-
"Oh, Damian," you about melted at the sight of him sleeping with his treasured pets.
Alfred sauntered his way, stepping on top of his chest and curling into a ball, content to join the napping group.
You fished your phone from your back pocket, thumb hovering over the camera when a deep, gruff voice said, "Don't even think about it, beloved."
What else did you expect from the Prince of Assassins? He had likely heard your footsteps in the wet grass.
He sat up, disturbing the cat on his chest to cradle him in his strong arms, long fingers stroking little Alfred's chin. His black hair mussed and green eyes regaining clarity from his slumber. He looked positively adorable.
"Just one photo, Dames. Please! I won't show it to anyone." You begged, knowing his soft spot for you would have him reconsidering his refusal.
Damian combed his fingers through his hair and gave you a dry look. "Mother always told me 'no' was answer enough."
You pulled your face into a pout.
His brows softened albeit slightly. "No picture, but I'll let you join me."
You couldn't refuse an offer like that so you squeezed in beside him, perching yourself beside him, letting his arm band itself around your waist. Contrary to the coolness of the shed, Damian's body warmed you, luring you to snuggle further into his embrace.
"What's her name?"
Damian looked at the dozing cow, a rare softness lighting his eyes. "Bat-Cow."
"How...authentic."
His fingers playfully pinched your side, causing you to squirm. "You try naming a cow."
"Why not try something classical? Like Bessie? Or Buttercup? Something not so clinical."
"You must think lowly of me if you believe I would name any of my animals so predictably." He sighed, disappointed. "You must hate me."
You rapped your knuckles against the muscled contours of his bicep. "I could never hate you, Dames."
"You must if you were going to take a picture of me without permission. Were you thinking of selling it to the Gotham Gazette or Gotham Globe? Tarnish my hard-earned image? Make people think I'm some kind of sap who snuggles with his animals?"
Always with the dramatics, this one.
You grabbed his chin and made him look at you, kissing the tip of his nose. If you were anyone else, he would have left you with a black eye but he only hummed low in his throat.
"First of all," you said, "you are a sap who snuggles with his animals." You motioned around you. "Secondly, you should apply yourself to acting with your theatrics. And thirdly, this is the cutest thing I've ever seen."
"Ever?"
"Ever."
Damian shook his head and grumbled, "I should've locked the shed."
"I was worried something happened to you when you didn't show up for lunch."
Pink tinged his cheeks, a scarce reaction. "I came to check on Bat-Cow and simply...fell asleep. I apologize for worrying you, beloved. It was never my intention."
You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your ear against above his heart. He smelled like soap and shaving cream. Clean, how he liked it. "It's alright. Finding you like this has made up for making me fret."
"If I let you take a picture, will you give up meat with me?"
You chuckled. "Not even that is enough to tempt me."
A wet nose poked your arm and you turned to find Titus awake and staring up at you with pleading eyes. You rubbed his ears between your fingers, making his tail thumped against the floor. "You ought to start a petting zoo at this rate."
Damian only scoffed. As if he would ever let anyone touch his babies with their dirty hands.
Bat-Cow--you still couldn't believe he had actually named her that--stirred from her sleep and nuzzled her head against Damian. Your heart melted and you stroked her soft nose. She was definitely growing on you. How could someone look into those big brown eyes and not fall in love?
Being there in Damian's arms, surrounded by his loving pets, you fell further for your boyfriend. Not many people were afforded the opportunity to see him like this. He ensured the public saw nothing but his being 'Bruce Wayne's son' or the 'emotionless nepo baby'. You counted yourself lucky to see him behind that facade.
"I guess tofu sounds somewhat appealing." You looked up at him shyly.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, beloved."
author's note: my cutesy cutesy Damian 🥰 i like to imagine he treats his pets as he would his children, spoiling them rotten and pretending he's mad at them but 'how can he say no to that face' lol
