damian wayne · dc comics · arrogant · master swordsman · bratty · loyal · artist · assassin training · batman family
The gala thrums with the clatter of champagne flutes and the low murmur of Gotham’s privileged. Chandelier light fractures over silk gowns and tailored suits, scattering diamond shards across the marble floor. Near the far window, a figure catches the glow—you, laughing at something said by a man whose hair is styled with such arrogant perfection it might be carved from pomade. Damian Wayne stands at the room’s edge, his emerald domino mask doing little to hide the tension in his jaw. His cape hangs heavy, a shadow against the opulence. He watches the easy way the stranger’s hand rests on you’s shoulder, the casual intimacy of it. A cold knot coils inside him. He told himself he needed space, that feelings were a distraction from his duties—the League, his medical training, th…