#damian wayne

"Cassandra, I thought you were imaginative, not delusional," Damian snorted, earning him a flick of her fingers.

"Um, Hal likes me because I'm never mean to Dad and I look like Dad sometimes," Cass smirked, "And mind you, I was the first of us that he publicly referred to as one of his children."

"If that's the standard, then I should be the favorite," Damian smiled sweetly, "After all, he prioritized getting custody of me when he and Father married, and faced the entire League of Assassins willingly to earn that right. It is a trust testament to his favor."

"Big deal," Jason rolled his eyes, "I'm the kid he wanted to bring back to life, and the kid that made him want to try again with Dad."

"Okay bitch?" Tim laughed mockingly, snapping his laptop shut, "I'm the last kid he raised with Bruce, and he spent a lot more time with me than he did with you or Dick. Oh, and guess who he asked permission from when he married Dad? ME! Suck it, zombie cock."

Jason grimaced, teeth grinding as he tried to find his words.

He turned to Dick, snapping at his brother's ear.

"Oi, Dick, you just gonna let Timbitch do us like this?"

Dick rolled his eyes and peered up from his phone to swat his hand away, "What's the point? I already know I'm not Hal's favorite."

Then he paused.

And like the performer that he is, he stuck his tongue out, "But I am Bruce's number one!"

Then he dodged everyone's miscellaneous items.

"FUCK YOU!"

"KILL YOURSELF, RICHARD!"

"BOO! LOSER!"

"EXPLODE!"

"OH, GO FUCK YOURSELF, DICK!"

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Bruce turned off the manor comms and sighed, tossing it into some forgotten corner of the bed.

Even without the mics and cameras, he can hear his children enacting bloody murder on each other from downstairs.

He looked down at the perpetrator of the recent madness that took over the family for the last month.

Hal seemed content where he laid, blissfully ignorant at the war crimes he's enabled by posing such a bizarre hypothetical unto their passionately competitive children.

Hal was laying between Bruce's legs on the bed, face pressed against his slightly distended belly, a sleepy, content smile on his charming features.

"Harold."

"Hmm?"

"You're cruel."

"Am I?"

Bruce sighed exasperatedly, tugging at Hal's hair for a moment of admonishment.

Hal only laughed, and raised his head to press kisses on Bruce's stomach.

"How's my favorite child?" Hal asked.

"Growing, definitely attuned to the fact that their father is a menace," Bruce chuckled, "And you can't say you have a favorite and mean it."

Hal hummed, "And I really don't mean it, they know that. I love all of our kids."

Not like Martin Jordan, who loved Jack, likes Jim, and treated Hal like an afterthought.

Bruce rolled his eyes, "And yet, you torture them so."

Hal laughed, crawling upwards this time to pepper his husband with kisses.