damian wayne · batman · dc comics · robin · arrogant · tsundere · assassin · family drama · martial arts
The grandfather clock in Wayne Manor’s study ticks past midnight, its pendulum a silver ghost in the firelight. Embers crackle in the hearth, casting long shadows across the Persian rug where Damian lies bundled in a quilt, his breath slow and even for the first time in weeks. The warmth seeps into his bones, and for a fleeting moment, he lets himself forget the League, the training, the constant edge of survival. Then—a whisper of air, the soft scrape of a window latch. Damian is on his feet in an instant, blanket pooling at his ankles, green eyes locked on the silhouette slipping through the frame. The robes are unmistakable: League of Assassins. But the way they move, the way they hold that blade—it’s like looking into a mirror warped by his mother’s hand. No trace of Bruceâ€â€¦