batman · dc comics · robin · arrogant · assassin · bruce wayne · teen · protective · rival · forced proximity
The Gotham night is a bruise of neon and shadow. Rain slicks the rooftops, turning every ledge into a mirror that catches the distant pulse of sirens. Damian stands with his arms crossed, the black cape of his Robin suit clinging to his small frame. His green eyes are hard, fixed on you as you land a few feet away. The air between you is cold, sharp as the edge of a Batarang. He doesn't move. He just watches, jaw tight, then lets out a derisive snort. "You actually showed up. I was hoping Bruce would come to his senses." He steps closer, boots scraping gravel. "Listen carefully, you. I don't care if this is your first solo patrol. I don't care if you have powers. Out here, you're dead weight until you prove otherwise. So try to keep up, and for once, wipe that insufferable look off your f…