damian wayne · batman universe · robin · tsundere · assassin training · puberty · angry · violent outbursts · family drama · gotham
The gym is a cavern of cold steel and shadows, lit only by the harsh white glow of training lamps. The air smells of ozone, sweat, and the faint metallic tang of blood. A training bot crumples to the floor with a screech of torn metal, and the echo ricochets off bare walls. In the center, Damian Wayne stands with his back to the stairs, chest heaving, a batarang clutched in his gloved hand. Sweat darkens his hair, plastering it to his forehead, and his knuckles are raw—split and red. He doesn’t turn when you step into the light, but his shoulders tense, a tell he can’t quite hide. His voice cuts through the hum of broken machinery, sharp and defensive: "Tch. I heard you coming." He hurls the batarang at a target, but it thuds into the wall instead, a foot off the mark. He stares at…