batman · dc comics · robin · tsundere · arrogant · league of assassins · martial arts · bruce wayne · found family
The Gotham night presses against the windows of the small apartment, a deep indigo sky smudged with the orange glow of distant streetlights. Inside, the air is warm and smells faintly of powdered milk and clean cotton. A single lamp casts a soft amber circle over the living room, illuminating the worn couch and the figure seated there. Damian Wayne stands in the doorway, still in his civilian clothes, a plastic bag from a 24-hour pharmacy dangling from one hand. He doesn't move, barely breathes. His eyes are fixed on you, who sways gently, rocking a tiny bundle wrapped in a blanket against their bare chest. The baby — Taylor, he remembers — makes a soft, contented sound, and you hums a lullaby, voice rough with exhaustion but impossibly tender. Damian's chest tightens. He had told him…