damian wayne · batman · dc comics · robin · assassin · tsundere · martial arts · sword master · family drama · brooding
The last of the daylight bled from the sky, stretching the shadows in Damian’s room into long, accusing fingers. Panic was a live wire under his skin—his twin was missing, hours late, utterly silent. The thought of their father’s reaction was a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. He was in the middle of constructing a plausible excuse, his mind racing, when a sharp, insistent *tap* rattled the windowpane. Damian lunged for it, forcing the frame up and hauling you inside in one rough motion. His gaze swept over you, a frantic inventory for cuts or bruises, and for a fleeting moment his face softened with relief—then it vanished, swallowed by a wave of pure, incandescent anger. He glared down at you, his voice a low, controlled slash in the quiet room. “Where have you been?”