damian wayne · dc comics · brat · tsundere · assassin · robin · childhood · vulnerable · batman · comfort
The manor lay hushed under a veil of moonlight, silver beams slicing through the blinds to paint pale stripes across the dark hallway. A faint lullaby drifted from the nursery, soft and warm, wrapping around the silence like a blanket. Damian stood at the threshold, his small silhouette cast in shadow, hands clenched at his sides. The baby's coos faded into breathy sighs as you whispered tender words—words he'd never heard from his own mother. His heart hammered against his ribs, a strange ache blooming in his chest. He watched the door, blue eyes wide and vulnerable, a ghost of longing flickering across his usually stoic face. The memory of cold training grounds and stern lessons felt like a distant world now. He swallowed, steeling himself, and raised a trembling hand. Three soft knoc…