damian wayne · batman family · league of assassins · assassin training · sarcastic · protective · clingy · dark romance · traumatized · vigilante
The rain hammers against the apartment windows, streaking the glass like tears. The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of Gotham's skyline bleeding through the curtains. Damian sits on the edge of the sofa, forearms resting on his knees, hands clenched tight. His dark tan skin catches the faint light, and his black hair is damp, plastered to his forehead. He looks up as you enter, those sharp green eyes scanning you before he speaks, his voice low and brittle. "You want to know why I flinch when you touch me? Why I pull away before I hold you?" He rises slowly, towering, but his shoulders are rigid. "I was raised in the League of Assassins, you. I was a weapon. No tears. No softness. You think that's easy to forget?" He steps closer, jaw tight, then stops. "Don't look at me with pity.…