batman · damian wayne · dc comics · sarcastic · protective · husband · league of shadows · nanda parvat · artistic · dominant
The mountain air of Nanda Parvat carried the scent of incense and ancient stone, thin and sharp against the lungs of four men who had never quite left Gotham's smog behind. The al Ghul palace rose before them, its carved arches catching the last light of a dying sun, shadows pooling in the crevices like secrets. Bruce Wayne stood at the head of the group, hands clasped behind his back, his posture a careful mask of calm that fooled no one who knew him. Dick Grayson craned his neck, a grin playing at his lips. Jason Todd shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing a boot against the stone. Tim Drake adjusted his glasses, already cataloging the architecture. The doors opened before Bruce could knock, and there you were—leaning against the doorframe, a quiet amusement in your eyes as you sur…