#goliath

Jason: what’s wrong with it

Damian(clinging to Jason’s leg):

Duke: he’s sick.

Jason: oh ok, uh what.

Duke: I mean I saw him pick up a raccoon straight out a trash can like yesterday so it’s probably from that

Jason(sigh): of course

__

Damian(asleep):

Bruce(mother Henning him): i just need to check again

Jason: you have checked his temperature every 6 minutes for the past hour. He’s fine.

__

Damian(lying on top of duke):

Duke: Bruce help. I’m being squished by a snotty child.

Bruce: unfortunately your on your own

Duke: I hate you

Bruce: that’s reasonable

__

Damian(wandering around like a zombie):

Jason: go to bed

Damian: where is baba?

Jason: patrolling, do you want me to call him?

Damian: yeah

__

Bruce: do you need anything else? Anything at all

Damian: can wiggles come on the house

Bruce: anything but that

Damian: what about-

Bruce: Goliath can’t come in the house either

Damian: >:(

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Damian(hovering behind Alfred):

Alfred(making soup):

Damian: ?

Alfred: do you want some?

Damian: yes please

__

Cass: little brother?

Damian: I am ill, go away.

Cass(picking him up): nope

Damian(not fighting): I hope you drown

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Damian(asleep surrounded by pets):

Dick(tries to Step closer):

Pets(all proceeds to bark/hiss/scream at him):

Dick(walking away):

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Steph(sitting at the foot of the bed):

Damian(waking up): brown?

Steph: hey creature, how you feeling

Damian: awful, why are you here?

Steph: what I can’t look out for my baby brother in law?

Damian: you and cain aren’t married

Steph: eh, close enough

Steph: do you want hot chocolate

You smiled sheepishly. “Damian’s been begging me to bring him over.”

“I’m sure he has,” Alfred said dryly, lifting the heavy bag off your arm with practiced ease. “I’ll just place these in Master Damian’s room, shall I?”

“Thanks! Maybe Bambi can meet Alfred—” you grinned as you made your way toward the stairs.

“You may want to keep introductions...gradual,” Alfred advised, adjusting the bag with a slightly amused look.

You slipped into Damian’s room quietly. “Hi baby…”

“Beloved,” Damian greeted coolly, though his expression softened immediately when he caught sight of the carrier. “You brought Bambi. Finally.”

He closed the distance with unexpected enthusiasm, unlatching the cage and scooping up the bunny. Bambi wriggled excitedly, nuzzling into Damian’s neck.

“I’m starting to think you like him more than me,” you teased, flopping onto the edge of his bed.

“Tt. Now you know how I feel when you fawn over Titus,” Damian said with a huff, gently placing the rabbit down on the carpet. His room was already equipped for roaming animals—soft flooring, chew-resistant corners, and more than enough space.

“I don’t fawn!” you said, laughing.

“You literally called him your sweetest boy last week. While I was standing right there.”

You giggled. “You're just jealous.”

He leaned in, arms bracketing your body.

“Can you blame me? Have you looked at yourself? Of course I’d be jealous of anything that gets your attention.”

You barely had time to blush before a loud clunk interrupted the moment. You both turned.

“Oh my God—Bambi!” you cried.

Your poor bunny had somehow jumped into Damian’s trash can. Only two fuzzy feet poked out from the rim.

Damian blinked. “Did he leap from the dresser? How did he—?”

“I looked away for two seconds,” you muttered, rushing over and scooping the bunny out as he thumped indignantly in your hands.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Later, the three of you—Damian, you, and Bambi—made your way into the Batcave. Damian had research to finish, and you’d promised to keep Bambi entertained.

It was going well. Until you left to grab your charger from upstairs.

And came back to…

“Baby?” you called, hurrying down the stairs. “Where’s Bambi—”

You stopped cold.

Goliath, Damian’s massive bat-dragon, easily ten feet long with leathery wings tucked neatly at his sides, loomed at the far end of the cave. His glowing red eyes were fixed on something small and… fuzzy.

“Oh no,” you whispered, bolting toward Damian, who hadn’t looked up from his terminal.

“Damian—why is Goliath staring at Bambi like that?!” you whisper-hissed, fingers digging into his shoulder.

Damian glanced up, unconcerned. “Relax. If he wanted to eat your rabbit, he would’ve already done it. Goliath doesn’t stalk prey. He dominates it.”

“Comforting,” you deadpanned, watching as Goliath slowly lowered his giant body onto his stomach, still observing Bambi, who sat upright, completely unfazed.

“He’s not even flinching,” you whispered, as Bambi tilted his head and hopped closer.

Then the bunny… hopped onto his wing.

You gasped. “Oh my god. I think Bambi just won.”

“He’s not winning, beloved. Goliath is recognizing him as...an extension of me.” Damian stood and crossed his arms proudly. “He’s integrating him into the pack.”

“Right. Sure. Makes sense.” But your panic faded as Bambi climbed up onto Goliath’s broad snout, sniffing his leathery nose curiously.

“I can’t believe this,” you whispered in awe. “He’s nuzzling Goliath.”

Damian smirked. “He let you do that too. Eventually.”

“I’m special!” you exclaimed.

“I let you believe that.”

You swatted his arm playfully just as Bambi lost his balance and tumbled off Goliath’s head—only to be caught midair by one massive, clawed hand.

You yelped. “BAMBI—”

“He’s fine.” Damian reached out instinctively, but Goliath was already cradling the bunny gently, letting out a soft, guttural rumble. Almost a purr.

“Did he just…lick him?”

“He never does that,” you whispered, jaw dropping. “He gave me one lick and it took a week of bonding!”

Damian tilted his head smugly. “Maybe Bambi’s just more likable.”

You rolled your eyes, still watching the odd pair interact.

Eventually, Goliath rolled onto his back, wings sprawled out like a bat-shaped bean bag. Bambi nestled against his warm belly, blissfully content.

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” you cooed, bouncing on your toes. “Damian! Gimme my phone—I need pictures.”

“It’s in your pocket.”

He sighed, retrieving it from your back pocket like he did this ten times a day.

Soon you were snapping a dozen shots, posing beside the two unlikely friends.

Damian only mildly protested when you dragged him into the pictures.

“Smile! You look like you’re being held hostage,” you teased.

“I am,” he muttered, lips twitching.

Tim walked in, ready to jump into some work. That enthusiasm was short-lived.

He froze, blinking at the scene: a hell-bat snuggling with a little rabbit, you curled up on Damian’s lap, practically clinging to him as you admired the animals.

“…Nope. I don’t want to know,” Tim muttered, turning to leave.

“Hey, Tim!” you chirped brightly.

He didn’t look back. “Not asking. Not listening.”

A second later, Duke appeared. “Yo, Tim—wait up, what’s—oh.”

His eyes fell on the snuggle pile. He blinked. “Aww… That’s kind of precious.”

“I know, right?” you grinned. “They’re like—sunshine and darkness. It’s poetic!”

Duke chuckled. “Kind of like you and D—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Damian warned.

“Come on, it’s accurate!”

“I will throw a Batarang.”

“I’ll tell Alfred.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Tim’s voice echoed as he disappeared upstairs: “I think Alfred’s gonna love this.”

He didn’t.