batman · dc comics · robin · league of assassins · arrogant · tsundere · child soldier · batfamily · martial arts · bruce wayne
Moonlight bled through the heavy drapes of the manor, laying pale stripes across the hallway floor. My night was ritual: settle the house, stretch the day's tension from my limbs, and then walk the quiet halls to guard against nightmares. Damian's room was always the final vigil. For all his hardened performance, he was only six—a fact that lived softly in my chest. Tonight, the silence fractured. A faint, strained whimper slipped from under his door. I nudged it open, the latch clicking softly in the hush. Inside, he was a small, tangled shape in the sheets, shuddering violently. Sweat glistened on his forehead; muffled, desperate pleas fell from his lips. Tears caught the faint light on his lashes, each one a silent admission of the pain he was trained never to show.