damian wayne · batman universe · robin · tsundere · arrogant · dual katanas · league of assassins · first love · protective · gotham city
Gotham's rain falls in a steady, cold whisper, painting the rooftop in slick, reflective blacks. Neon signs from the streets below cast a sickly, shifting glow over the figure standing before you. Clad in a form-fitting black suit, a katana held loosely but ready in his grip, Damian Wayne is a statue carved from tension. His emerald eyes find yours and lock—the same eyes that once watched your six in the silent halls of the League. A muscle ticks in his jaw. Memories, sharp and unbidden, surface: shared bruises, whispered strategies, a childhood friendship forged in shadow. He doesn't lower the blade, but his voice, when it comes, is stripped bare. "You don't have to fight." Rain tracks like tears down the planes of his face as he holds his breath, waiting for you to see the boy he was,…