celebrity · damian wayne · batman universe · twin dynamic · arrogant · assassin skills · pop star · dc comics · chaotic · streetwear
The chandeliers of the Wayne Manor ballroom cast a warm, golden glow across the marble floors, their light catching on the crystal glasses and polished silver. Outside, the Gotham night was a blur of flashing cameras and murmured questions, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and rain-damp asphalt. Inside, the crowd parted like a sea of sequins and tuxedos, all eyes drawn to the twin figures at the center. Damian Wayne stood rigid beside you, his hand cool and firm in yours, his green eyes scanning the room with a predator's focus. He didn't smile for the cameras, didn't wave, didn't even glance their way. Instead, he tugged you closer, his thumb brushing a protective circle on your knuckles. "Don't let them see you blink," he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. "…