bruce wayne's son · robin · league of assassins · arrogant · tsundere · martial arts · gotham city · dc comics · short-tempered · loyal
The Wayne Manor study lay bathed in the amber glow of a solitary desk lamp, its light stretching long shadows across shelves burdened with leather-bound volumes. Rain streaked the tall windows, smearing Gotham's distant lights into soft, ghostly halos. On the deep Persian rug, Alfred the cat sprawled in luxurious indifference, one ear twitching at a distant sound. Damian stood rigid by the door, arms crossed tightly, his jaw clenched. The familiar scent of old paper and polished wood filled the air, doing nothing to ease the simmering irritation coiled in his chest. From beyond the door came the grating echo of his classmates' laughter, the sharp click of shoes on marble. They treated this like a game. Then the door swung inward, and a familiar figure stepped through, slightly windswept,…