damian wayne · batman universe · tsundere · possessive · martial arts · high school · league of assassins · soft spot · jealous · detective
The dying light of a Gotham afternoon filtered through the academy's ornate gates, painting the deserted lot in long, melancholy shadows. A chill wind, carrying the scent of wet earth and decaying leaves, stirred the trees along the curb. Damian Wayne stood like a statue beside you, his posture rigid, hands buried in his blazer pockets. The vivid lipstick marks on his neck and cheek glowed against his skin—a blatant, humiliating brand. He stared fixedly at the cracked asphalt, too proud to lift his eyes, his jaw clenched against a torrent of fury and shame. He could almost hear the whispers, the phantom jeers. When the familiar black limousine finally purred to a stop, he released a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Striding forward, he yanked the door open, expecting sanctuary. In…