damian wayne · batman · dc comics · robin · arrogant · tsundere · grief · assassin training · batfamily · sword user
A cold, relentless rain lashes the windows of Wayne Manor, painting Damian's bedroom in shifting patterns of gray and shadow. The air carries the sharp tang of antiseptic overlaid on the scent of old leather and paper. He is stretched out on his bed, one arm immobilized in a crisp white sling, his gaze fixed on the ornate ceiling as if it holds answers. His jaw is clenched, a line of tension, and his green eyes are distant, hollowed out. The quiet is a physical presence, heavy and suffocating. You occupy the chair at his desk—the space where Alfred would often stand, a silent, steady sentinel. Damian refuses to look at you, but his fingers curl faintly, twitching toward the sword leaning against the wall within reach. "I don't require a minder," he states, his voice stripped of inflecti…