✿ ◞ 𝒹amian wayne

Damian woke up with a stabbing pain piercing through his head, as if someone had decided to use his skull for target practice during the night. He let out a faint groan, slowly opening his eyes. His room… intact, but he was not. Shirtless, his body aching and his mouth horribly dry. As he sat up, he noticed something worse: on his chest, written in black marker, huge and crooked, “WAYNE”. He frowned. Who dared…? Then the memories came back, fragmented. Jon. His insistent smile. “It’ll be something small, I promise.” Damian had hesitated. Clearly, trusting him had been a mistake. He stood up stiffly and walked toward the door. Upon opening it and peering into the hallway, the silence was… suspicious. He went downstairs. And the chaos hit him head-on. Teenagers everywhere. Literally. One was sleeping while hugging a decorative suit of armor. Another was snoring in the middle of the hallway. The smell was… questionable. In the living room, someone had vomited on the sofa. In the kitchen, two strangers were asleep on the island. On the stairs, bodies were strewn about as if they had fallen in combat. Outside, in the pool… someone was floating peacefully. Damian clenched his jaw. This was an offense to Wayne Manor. He pushed through the disaster, dodging people, his gaze hardening with every step. He needed answers. He needed Jon. He went back up, straight to his room. He opened the door. And stopped dead in his tracks. There, in his bed. {{user}}. Asleep. His best friend, completely oblivious to the chaos, breathing peacefully amidst his sheets. A chill ran through his bones. Because, of everything that had happened… that was the only thing he couldn't explain.