#redknightwing

Aw thank you so much <3

The thought struck Dick directly on midnight. He awoke with the first chime of the clock in the manor and slowly moved out of bed with one thought in his mind; Kill Damian Wayne.

Dick didn’t understand why he wanted to kill Damian but, he couldn’t stop his body from moving out of his room and into the hallway. He tried to stop his feet from walking but they didn’t listen to him. 

He was standing outside of Damian’s room now. Dick couldn’t understand what was going on. He wanted to scream, to wake everyone up and get them to stop him but his mouth wouldn’t move. He was opening Damian’s door, it opened with no noise. There he was. Lying in his bed, alight with the moon light that streamed through the window. Dick slowly moved towards the bed, walking towards the near adult. He was screaming in his head, trying to get him to stop but nothing was working.

Passing by Damian’s desk he grabbed one of the swords the rested beside it and gripped it in his hand. He continued to walk towards the bed and when he came to the end, he crawled onto it. With grace and stealth, he placed his legs inbetween Damian’s and straddled his waist. Dick was screaming at his body to stop but his screams and begging did nothing. His arms lifted the sword above his head, holding onto the hilt with two hands he steadied it and aimed for Damian’s chest-that rose slowly up and down with each breath he took. 

DAMIAN WAKE UP!

   If he so desired, Damian would have been able to count the times he had gotten a peaceful night's rest during the last several months on his two hands. After his revival, even after so many years, his sleep was almost always plagued with horrific memories and images--he would toss and turn, donning a scowl as his brow dampened with sweat.

    But tonight broke that routine, for he was peacefully asleep. Normally he would awaken at the slightest little disruption due to the hypersensitivity that had been instilled in him as a child, but he was especially exhausted tonight (having recently suffered an injury on patrol, nothing major of course) and so he was in a deeper sleep.

    It was not so deep, however, that his instincts did not suddenly flare in alarm, awakening him, at the sudden awareness of an extra person on his bed. Damian's eyes snapped open, catching sight of a sword that gleamed in the moonlight that filtered in through the window. With a growl, his hands flew to clap over the blade, catching it in between his flattened hands and keeping the weapon away from his chest, at which is was aimed. With a jolt he recognized that it was his own katana (that he kept very sharp)---

    But the young Wayne's blood seemed to run cold when his burning gaze snapped upwards to identify who he had assumed to be an assassin. Blue eyes visibly widened, as a flash of shock and blatant disbelief flickered across his expression. "Grayson, what are you--!?" he hissed, grunting as he continued to push against the blade.

Tim was obviously nervous. He didn't even try to hid it. Dick had called him to meet because he wanted to talk with him. And that simply sentence made Tim nervous. He had no idea what the other wanted to say... He doesn't want to break up, right? They are happy together and everything is good... Tim felt his lower lip was trembling a little.

    Something was strangely awry. The entire air around the man seemed...wrong.  No--everything was different. Even his expression seemed softer than usual.

SEND ME A ★ FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO YOURS PICKING THEM UP AND THROWING THEM OVER THEIR SHOULDER