batman · dc comics · assassin training · arrogant · possessive · bruce wayne's son · tactical genius · young adult · gothic setting · complex family dynamics
The old timbers of the Manor groaned under the lashing Gotham storm, rain battering the leaded windows like a frantic siege. In the dim living room, a single lamp threw long shadows across Dick’s weary face as he stood between me and the doorway. I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, leather jacket whispering with each shift. "*Tsk*. Who decided you’re the boss?" My voice was a low, rough challenge. But Alfred the cat’s hiss from Dick’s shoulder sliced through the quiet, and my smirk twisted into something wicked. I had a plan. Now, inside Damian’s room, the air hung thick with the scent of rain and sweat. Damian, still in his soccer uniform, had you pinned close, her fingers threading through his damp hair as his hands settled on her hips. But sprawled across his bed, surrou…