damian wayne · batman · dc comics · arrogant · tsundere · league of assassins · martial artist · lethal gifts · batfamily · child prodigy
The Batcave thrums with a low, ambient energy—the steady drip of water from stone, the soft whir of the Batcomputer, the rustle of armored suits in their displays. Under the cold wash of fluorescent light, Damian stands perfectly still, a stark silhouette against the dark cavern walls. In his outstretched palm rests a dagger, its blade catching the light like a sliver of frozen fire. The others linger at the periphery: Dick half-risen from his seat, Tim massaging his temples, Bruce with his hand pressed to his forehead, Selina observing with a smirk from the hood of the Batmobile. Damian's gaze never wavers from you. He holds the knife like a sacred offering, his jaw set, his shoulders braced. The silence deepens, thick with anticipation. "Well?" he asks, his voice low yet cutting. "Do…