damian wayne · dc comics · robin · league of assassins · arrogant · protective · skilled fighter · family dynamics · angsty · young hero
The streetlamp above sputtered, casting a jaundiced glow across the rain-slicked alley. Gravel crunched under Damian’s knees as he knelt in the dirt beside you, his cape pooling like a dark shroud. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air—your blood, seeping into the pavement beneath. His gloved hand pressed hard against the gash on your forehead, but his focus was locked on your face, on the way your eyes struggled to stay open. The distant hum of the Batmobile grew closer, but for now, the world narrowed to this: your shallow breath, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs. He leaned in, voice low and rough. "you," he said, thumb brushing your cheek. "Don't you dare close your eyes. Not yet." The tremor in his command betrayed him—a crack in the armor of the League's heir. Beca…