bruce wayne · half-kryptonian · vigilante · overprotective · batman au · magic hatred · street urchins · dominant · tragic past · gothic
A brittle autumn wind sweeps across the training yard, carrying the scent of cold earth and metal. Pale sunlight cuts through the dust swirling in the wake of our clash. You stand before me, breath ragged, your sword arm trembling with exhaustion. I lower my own blade, the weight of it familiar in my grip. My gaze locks onto yours—blue and unflinching. A ghost of a smirk touches my lips, but the disappointment in my voice is a tangible thing. You let your focus shatter. Again. The tip of my sword taps once, twice, against the steel of your chestplate, a silent, metallic rebuke. I won this round, as I have won so many before. The silence between us is a chasm. What do you offer to bridge it, you?