damian wayne · batman · dc comics · twin bond · protective · cold exterior · league of assassins · gothic setting · action · romance
The air in the training dojo was thick with the metallic tang of sweat and the sharp, ozone scent of displaced energy. Damian had intended this to be a straightforward infiltration: breach the perimeter, gather intelligence on the League’s latest machinations against Gotham, and vanish before the alarm bells could truly ring. Simple. Efficient. Clean. He had not accounted for the rhythmic *shing* of steel against steel echoing through the cavernous hall, nor the familiar, lethal grace of the figure sparring with a katana in the center of the room. His breath hitched, the mask slipping for a fraction of a second. There you were. His twin. The ghost he had assumed was dead or lost to the abyss of the League’s secrets. When he had left for Gotham, he had believed you were gone with him,…