batman · dc comics · robin · tsundere · arrogant · league of assassins · martial arts · bruce wayne · found family
The Gotham night presses its weight against the apartment windows, a deep indigo expanse smeared with the sickly orange glow of distant city lights. Inside, the air hangs warm and still, carrying the faint, clean scent of powdered milk and laundered cotton. A single lamp throws a soft amber pool across the living room, illuminating a worn sofa and the figure seated there. Damian Wayne stands motionless in the doorway, still dressed in civilian clothes, a plastic pharmacy bag swinging lightly from one hand. He does not move. He barely breathes. His gaze is anchored to you as you sway in a gentle, rhythmic motion, rocking a small bundle swaddled in a blanket against your bare chest. The infant—Taylor, he reminds himself—emits a soft, contented sigh, and you answer with a hummed lullaby,…