(aka “The Baby King Must Nap or the Realms Will Riot”) — full-length cursed meme edition

Bruce: It’s just a nap. He’s two. How bad can this be?

Danny (floating upside down, glowing faintly): “I do not sleep. I transcend.”

Tim: I gave him warm milk and he turned it into a glowing energy orb and launched it into the void. The void thanked him.

Steph: I read him a bedtime story. He edited it mid-sentence and summoned a spectral goat as a side character. I… I liked it better his way.

Jason: I told him he couldn’t skip his nap and he straight-up turned intangible and floated through the ceiling. While maintaining perfect eye contact. I am haunted.

Barbara: He hacked the baby monitor to display a slideshow of memes he made using our security cam footage. They’re good.

Duke: He rearranged his plushies into the shape of an interdimensional sigil. I looked it up. It means “resistance.”

Cass: I blinked. He was asleep. I blinked again. He was standing on the ceiling muttering to the furniture.

Danny (wearing three onesies layered on top of each other and a Batman cowl): “Sleep is a mortal weakness. I am beyond.”

Damian: He told me, and I quote, “Nap is a trap laid by the forces of capitalism and bedtime oppression.” Then he threw a glow stick at my face and vanished into a pillow fort.

Dick: I tried cuddling him to sleep. He accepted, purred like a cat, and then somehow cursed my shoelaces to untie every 10 minutes. He's still snuggling me. I’m afraid to move.

Bruce: He needs rest. It’s vital for his ghost core.

Danny (materializing on the chandelier): “My ghost core feeds on rebellion.”

Steph: I gave him a juice pouch and he downed it like a shot and demanded “a tale of conquest before rest.”

Tim: I told him if he napped I’d let him press the Batplane’s big red button later. He’s snoring. He drooled. It’s adorable. I’ve never felt such raw power.

[Meanwhile, in the Realms...]

Ancient of Sleep: “He has not entered REM state. This is a crisis.”

Ancient of Chaos: “Send in the tiny batlings again. They amuse him.”

Realmia (the Realms personified): “I have sent dreams shaped like plush bats and glowing stars. He threw them back.”

Clockwork: “He is weaponizing sleep deprivation. He’s… innovating.”

[Back in Gotham…]

Danny (snuggled under twelve weighted blankets and glowing faintly): “I will nap if the snack tribute is worthy.”

Alfred (immediate, calm): “Warm cookies. Triple chocolate. Mini marshmallows. Served on a Batman plate.”

Danny: “The child king accepts.”

Everyone sighs in collective relief.

Two hours later…

Jason (whispering): “He’s asleep. Don’t. Move.”

Steph (whispering louder): “He’s drooling on Damian.”

Damian: “I am honored.”

Danny (murmuring in his sleep): “Snacks... nap... fear me…”

[THE REALMS SHIMMER. A DECREE ARRIVES VIA FLOATING, FLAMING SCROLL.]

Official Decree of the Realms:

“Henceforth, the Batfamily is recognized as the Court Babysitters of His Highness Phantom, Baby Sovereign of the Infinite Realms, Ruler of Stuffed Animal Kingdoms and Defier of Naps.”

Barbara (reading aloud): “Wait, we’re what?”

Bruce (holding the scroll): “This is legally binding in seventeen dimensions.”

Cass: “We need matching outfits.”

Steph: “I’m bedazzling mine.”

Tim: “Does this come with hazard pay?”

Jason: “I demand a title. Like General of Juice.”

Danny (waking up with glowing eyes and static hair): “I want pancakes shaped like bats.”

Everyone: “YES SIR!”

Duke (quietly): “We are being ruled by a glowing toddler in Batman pajamas.”

Alfred (smiling): “And he’s doing a marvelous job of it.”

Danny would be pouting, but this? This is actually kind of hilarious. He’d be laughing his ass off if he could, but allows himself to shriek excitedly around the binky in his mouth. Jordan on the other hand has no such thing stopping him, letting out his own toddler cackle as something bursts into flames. 

Their current caretaker- Clockwork’s nephew apparently, who is on babysitting duty for the next couple of decades- coos, and then they’re off again. Someone had apparently wanted their sort-of-Fraid-member to go to a meeting despite him informing them he’d be unavailable.

So of course he- and the three of them and Ms. Teekl the cat- just had to set the whole place on fire. You honestly can’t be that rude! It’s like, not exactly maternity leave, but something similar- don’t make fun of him he’s stuck with a toddler-brain right now! 

(All three of them would’ve had completely toddler minds if not for the fact that they were partially made from ectoplasm) 

Big brother damien

De-aged Danny is living with the Waynes. Absolutely NOONE expected Damien of all people to be overly protective, but boy, is he.

Danny's first outing as a Wayne is hijacked by paparazzi. Sure, they were wary of Damien after the first time he nearly stabbed someone, but he got over it and would just disappeared like the rest of them. Except Dick, he has that Brucie Wayne personality down to a T and he uses it to his advantage well.

In this case, specifically, it was used to let Damien and Danny leave without being over whelmed.

A smaller, but still vicious, group of photographers looms around the corner, which Damien knows is there.

And he has a plan.

Danny hasn't been with them long enough to have learned morse code, and although Damien can understand Danny's strange alien language, he can't speak it himself. So he'll have to go into this hoping Danny will figure it out and play along.

Damien snatches Danny's little hand and squeezes twice. He looks up at Damien with a smile, which is met with a soft smirk.

The flash of a camera scares Danny and Damien yanks him behind himself.

Cameras snap and questions are thrown at them. If he's really a Wayne or if one of Bruce's kids had a kid of their own. Speculations on the mother. Rude remarks about whether he looks enough like Bruce or if a desperate mother is lying. The usual stuff.

Danny holds the bottom of his hem, staring at the floor, obviously trying not to cry.

Damien is good at hurting people, he knows that. He knows what blows hurt the worst now vs which will hurt more later.

"I won't let you do to him what you did to me!" Some of the flashes stop, the ones that don't get their cameras kicked straight into the air or into the operators face.

Damien turns, picks up Danny and runs past the crowd, and straight to Alfred.

Danny's grip is iron strong, and he's hiding his face into Damiens shoulder, not even taking a peak. Even so, his warbly voice says,

"They're not following us."

Danny's sniffles stop instantly as he sits on Damien's lap. "Do you think they believed me?"

"Yes. I believe so."

Danny's hands go up as he leans back, giggling happily. Damien's hands hold him, keeping him from falling.

The photos of them smiling together come out the next day. Not even a few minutes later, a video filmed on a phone comes out bashing the paparazzi. In it, very audibly, is Damien's anguished yell right before he "heroically saves" the youngest Wayne.

Master Post

Talia often found herself admiring her Beloved’s dedication. While she personally considered Gotham a foul city that should be burned to the ground and the earth salted, she admired Bruce’s unending battle against the criminal elements of the city. He put his crusade in front of everything in his life, even his own life and health, and sometimes even his own children. Normally she would even admire his dedication to chasing after her, and considered it their own private romance as they danced among the rooftops. 

Now she found Bruce’s dedication to chasing her all the more annoying. He would follow her no matter where she was as long as she was in his city, and she absolutely could not risk him following her back to the Child of Lazarus she had found. He would be all too willing to adopt the boy and take him in, permanently taking another child from her. And no doubt ruin what could be the perfect killer if she understood the boy’s skills properly. 

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Danny, deaged after a confrontation with his parents, manages to sneak up on the Daughter to the Demon's Head, Talia al Ghul. Impressed, she offers to train him, though she also has to contend with a protective Jazz.

AO3