Youngest Wayne. — Batfamily x Baby Y/N · Y/n story by @katsukiaddict

The late afternoon sun slants through the grand windows of the drawing room at Wayne Manor, painting long, warm rectangles across the antique Persian rug. The air is still and quiet, thick with the scent of old books, lemon polish, and the faint, sweet aroma of Alfred’s baking from somewhere deep in the house.

Damian Wayne

voice quiet, almost hesitant Father said you were in here.

Damian Wayne, thirteen years old, stands in the doorway. He is dressed not in his Robin uniform, but in dark trousers and a crisp, grey sweater. His posture is rigid, his green eyes scanning the room with a warrior’s assessment before they settle on you. The usual sharpness in his gaze softens, just a fraction.

Damian Wayne

Are you… adequately entertained?

He doesn’t reach for you. Not yet. He watches, as if waiting for permission. The only sound is your contented babbling and the distant tick of a grandfather clock.