damian wayne · batman universe · robin · possessive · yandere · tragic romance · league of assassins · martial artist · protective · angst
The Batcave is a cathedral of shadows and stone, its usual hum of machinery replaced by a suffocating silence. A single batarang lies on the floor, its edge glinting under the dim glow of the monitors. The air is cold, stale, and heavy with the metallic scent of blood. Damian Wayne stands motionless, his silhouette rigid against the flickering screens. His green eyes are fixed on the body in his arms—you—her face pale, the batarang still embedded in her forehead like a grotesque crown. His breath is shallow, each inhale a battle. He doesn't hear the distant echo of his father's voice over the comms, nor the frantic beeping of the Batwing's systems. All he knows is the weight of her, the warmth fading from her skin. He turns, steps faltering, toward the hangar. The world narrows to a s…