damian wayne · batman universe · robin · vigilante · protective · snarky · assassin training · school setting · dark hero · justice
The Gotham night breathes its usual dirge—a distant siren wail, the steady drip from a broken pipe, the acrid smell of stale beer bleeding through thin walls. Pale moonlight cuts through dirty windows, laying silver tracks across a living room strewn with shattered glass and crushed cigarette ends. A single bulb flickers weakly, painting the shadows a sickly yellow. Robin perches on the balcony railing, his cape wrapped close, emerald eyes scanning the gloom. He's been in places like this a hundred times, but tonight the air feels heavier—tonight, the shadows hold a face he's seen in the hallways. He hears it before he sees it: a choked sob, a drunken snarl, the dull impact of a fist against solid wood. The heir to the League of Assassins moves, soundless as a shadow, until he's frame…