Writing is Hell but It's My Hell

--

Damian, lounging on the couch on his phone: Where are you wanting to host this again?

Jon, digging through the fridge: Your place!

Kon, currently playing some video games: How would that work?

Damian: We could, but we have to push it so far out it's not worth it.

Jon: Not true. Dick and Kori's anniversary is coming up, Bruce is going to see dad, Ma, and Pa around the same time, Tim isn't going to be at the manor for a week starting Monday, he has stuff to do with Cass at some club across Gotham, Steph is always up to party, so we don't need to worry about her, Duke is touring a few colleges so he won't be in the manor either.

Damian: ... Why the hell do you know their schedule better than I do?

Raven, walking out from her room: Because he has no sense of privacy at all.

Jon, in false offense as he pulls out leftovers: I do too. I respect you and Dami's privacy all the time.

Raven, scoffing: Because we have lead lined walls, love.

Damian, laughing: I think it's fear that's stopping him.

Kon: Yeah, fear is a huge reason Clark doesn't stalk you guys.

Damian: Doesn't he stalk Father anyway?

Kon: Your dad is into it.

Damian: Gross, what the fuck?

Jon, making a plate of food: Yeah, honestly I don't want to think about Bruce being like that either.

Raven: Moving on, you're planning a party?

Damian: Jon decided he wants expensive things so he's making me host.

Kon: You have good taste in food.

Damian, rolling his eyes and straightening up: Whatever, dude. The problem is Alfred, I do not want to host a party with him in the manor.

Jon: Well-

Kon: Oh, I know this one. Alfred is coming with Bruce when he goes to the farm since his monthly tea party is around the same time anyway.

Jon: That.

Damian: So we're clear?

Raven, walking into the living room to sit on Damian's legs: We're clear, beloved.

Damian: Fucking- fine. Hosting a party at the manor will... probably not get media attention. If this gets me caught by Father I'm killing all of you.

Jon: Love you too.

Raven: You'll be fine, love.

--

Joker, sighing, leaning back: Shit.

Penguin: Something up, laughing stock?

Joker: Yeah, I'm not in the mood.

Penguin, pouring a glass of whiskey for himself and Joker: Harvey is supposed to be making his way here soon.

Joker, grabbing the whiskey and downing it: I don't know how Ed did this.

Penguin: The parenting thing?

Joker, nodding: Yeah, that.

Penguin: It didn't turn out anything like Verin did.

Joker: No, no it did not.

Harvey, walking into the bar: Is he lamenting about his kid again?

Penguin: Spot on!

Harvey: Have you ever considered asking Selina?

Joker looked at him with confusion.

Harvey: She helps raise Bruce Wayne's kids? Their marriage went public like two years ago.

Penguin: I forgot about that. I can't believe the cat finally said yes to the kid.

Joker, got up and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, pouring a glass before drinking straight from the bottle.

Harvey, laughing: Damn, Jack.

Joker: Fuck you, Harvey.

Penguin: You're kid humanized you to the public, and you're mad about it?

Joker: What if the bat sees it? I look like a damn fool!

Harvey:

Penguin:

Joker: Not that kind of fool, you assholes! I look like some parent or something, not a serial killer.

Harvey: You can be both, Jack. You are both.

Penguin: Not really. I remember when the kid went ballistic after that stunt you pulled with the second Robin.

Joker, shuddering: Almost got killed by my own brat.

Penguin, laughing: You raised them to be obsessed with Robin, I really don't see how you thought they would let you get away with killing one of them.

Joker: They weren't even ten!

Harvey: You're the one who taught them how to use a gun.

Joker, conceding: I'm too sober for this shit.

Penguin: Drink up then, Verin's at their apartment and well old enough to take care of themself.

Joker: Cheers to that shit.

Bruce, tensing and looking up from his work: Son.

Damian: I will be leaving for a few days.

Bruce: What?

Damian: Dick has invited me to a...

Dick, interrupting: We're having a party at Titan's tower, and as a Titan, Dami's coming!

Damian, sighing: Yes, that.

Dick: Don't be like that! You needed an excuse anyway!

Damian, growling: Shut up, Grayson.

Bruce: A party? Dick, you seriously want to drag your brother to a party?

Damian: What is that supposed to mean!?

Bruce, sighing: I don't think this is a good idea, Dick.

Dick: It'll be fine! Relax, old man.

Bruce: How exactly do you plan on reigning in the Titans if things get out of hand?

Dick: Nothing will get out of hand.

Bruce: Damian.

Damian: ...Father

Bruce: What exactly did Dick tell you to convince you to go to this party.

Dick: Oh, come on, B.

Damian, looking at Dick for a moment before answering: He informed me Raven was the one requesting I come to the party. I couldn't exactly leave my girlfriend alone to deal with the idiots that make up most of the Titans.

Dick: I didn't lie! Raven did ask me to make sure he came.

Bruce: Dick, can you swear that you can keep an eye on Damian and Raven and stop them from doing something they might regret?

Dick: They wouldn't regret having sex, Bruce, they're dating.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at him.

Dick: Right, I get it.

Damian: If you would finish this conversation, already. I'm not asking for permission, Father, the tower is my second home, I'm going whether you appreciate it or not, I was informing you so you would not tear apart Gotham in a panic in the very likely case I turn off my phone.

Bruce, shaking his head: Great.

Damian, sitting at a bar in a club, flirting with a stranger: If you want a drink, I'll buy.

Woman, side eyeing him: Really now? A young lad like you, buying me a drink?

Damian: I can afford it.

Woman: Anything?

Damian: You can order the finest drink here and I won't even notice the money missing.

Woman: Let's see how long you can keep that up, honey.

--

Kon, who is actively avoiding going home: Holy- isn't that Tim's little brother?

Garfield(Beast Boy): Where?

Kon: Behind you, dumbass.

Garfield, turning around: That is... absolutely Tim's little brother.

Kon: Hitting on some woman.

Garfield, turning away: Kissing some other woman.

Kon, covering his eyes as the woman slid into Damian's lap, lips on his: Fucking gross.

Garfield: I'm just gonna call Tim.

--

Tim, sitting at home, scrolling through notes on his tablet, answering the phone call he's getting: What is it?

Garfield: Where's your little brother right now?

Tim, humming: Damian? He said he was going studying and staying the night with some friends.

Garfield: Yeah. I don't think so, Tim.

Tim: Huh?

Garfield: Your little brother is making out with some woman at a bar, Tim.

Tim: Damian is?

Garfield: Yes, Tim. Damian.

Tim: No fucking way.

--

--

Tim, eleven: Damiaaan

Damian, four: Drake.

Tim: Damiiiiii

Damian: Timothy.

Tim, whining now: Dami!

Damian, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out at Tim: Tim!

Tim, gasping: You did it! You said my name!!

Damian: Tim, Tim.

Tim, grinning, picking up Damian: You're cute, sometimes.

Damian blew raspberries at Tim's face.

Tim, no longer grinning, putting Damian down to wipe off his face: Gross! Damian!

--

Dick, 23 years old: Dami, bubba, what are you doing?

Damian, 4 years old: Puppy!

Jason, thirteen: Dami, no.

Damian, currently trying to tug at the TV, which was playing some mindless video with dogs running around: Puppies!

Jason: Oh boy. Habibi..

Dick: Is it really all that dangerous?

Jason, standing up to grab Damian before he could make a mess: Dick, don't just sit there.

Dick: What's the w-

Jason, scooping Damian up as the TV tipped backward, hitting the wall and cracking: That. That's something bad that can happen.

Damian, squealing: Noo!

Dick, bolting up now, taking Damian from Jason to look him over while Jason tried to check how damaged the TV was: Are you okay, Dami? Not hurt, are you?

Damian, squirming, angry: Puppies!

Jon, sitting in the living room on his phone: Hey dad?

Clark, also in the living room, doing paperwork: Yes?

Jon: Can I go out tonight?

Clark: Tonight?

Jon: Yeah!

Clark: where? With who?

Jon, trying to be casual: Oh, just some party with Dami.

Clark, who is still in denial of his son being an actual teenager: A party??

Jon, looking up from his phone with a small frown: That's what I said.

Clark, sighing and looking at his son: Jon, you can't go to a party. Especially not in Gotham.

Jon: Why not?

Clark: Because-

Jon raised in eyebrow at Clark: Because?

Clark: I can't really give a reason.

Jon grinned: Hell yeah!

Clark, defeated: Language.

Dick, at a party with several of his friends: Damian?

Damian, at that same party with Jon holding on to one arm, a stranger on the other: Richard??

Dick: What the hell are you doing?

Kori, not understanding but happy to see her future brother-in-law: Hi Dami!

Damian, slowly becoming more confused: Hello, Koriande'r.

Dick: No, no. Sorry, Kori, give us a minute, yeah?

Kori, still not understanding but nodding anyway: Of course.

Dick: Damian what the hell are you doing here?

Damian: I could ask you the same thing. This is a college party, you are not a college student.

Dick, incredulous: Neither are you???

Damian, huffing, waving off the stranger on his arm: I'm closer in age to them then you are, old man.

Jon, attempting to not be pulled into several other conversations: Besides, we come to these parties all the time, it's never been a big deal.

Dick: Jon, bud, does your dad even know you're here?

Jon, shrugging: Probably.

Damian: We informed Kent before we left.

Dick: What about Bruce?

Damian: ... Ah..

Okay, listen. Damian was raised by Talia, and it's not hard to imagine how she was with her romance with Bruce, even if you haven't read the comics. (Personally I read what I find on here, but I don't actively seek out the comics on my own, since the art styles aren't really my thing). But anyway- Damian was raised by Talia until he was ten, and then raised by Brucie Wayne, billionaire playboy, little bit of a manwhore, and you want to tell me teenager Damian isn't just like his parents? I honestly can see him as being worse than his parents, because he's competitive, and he absolutely would take it as a challenge to be worse than Bruce if one of his brothers said he wasn't.

-

Bruce: Damian you're seventeen.

Damian, looking at the photos of himself at a party remarkably similar to a photo of Bruce at a party: Yeah?

Bruce: Damian.

Damian: You were like this at my age too!

Bruce: I'm not an example to follow!

Damian: It's not like mother was any better!

Bruce: Damian, bub, your parents are not good examples.

Damian: Who else do I have to follow? Richard and his deplorable fashion sense? Timothy and his caffeine addiction? Or what about Jason and his murderous habits? Stephanie and her pranks? Pennyworth and his lecturing?

Bruce, sighing, burying his face in his hands: We need to get you better role models.

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