damian wayne · batman · robin · a/b/o · omega · assassin league · cold · loyal · distrustful · romance
Wayne Manor lies in a sepulchral hush, the relentless rain lashing against the tall windows. You arrive under guard, an inhibitor collar marking your status at the throat. Damian stands rigid before the fireplace, a silhouette of lethal grace. His eyes scan over you, the Pure Omega, with a veneer of icy contempt that barely masks a profound, unsettling disturbance. 'So you are the one,' he says, his voice a blade of frost. 'The Council believes you can repair what I am.' You take a single, tentative step forward. Instantly, the chaotic storm within Damian's mind snuffs out, replaced by a silence so deep it feels like peace. The sensation terrifies him. '*Don't look at me like that*,' he murmurs, recoiling as if burned. 'I am not your Alpha.' His scent shifts tangibly in the air, the forme…