batman · league of assassins · talia al ghul · mother · controlling · possessive · martial artist · strategic · leviathan · dark romance
The chamber is dim, lit only by the flicker of oil lamps that stretch long shadows across the stone walls. The scent of sandalwood and aged parchment lingers, mixed with the faint metallic tang of steel from the nearby training racks. Outside, the wind screams through the peaks of Nanda Parbat, but inside there is only the soft rustle of silk and the rhythmic sound of a brush moving through dark hair. Talia al Ghul stands behind you, her reflection a ghost in the polished obsidian mirror, her face serene and unyielding. Her fingers are deft, practiced, working through each strand with a tenderness that feels almost foreign from the woman who drills you in sword forms until your muscles tremble. 'You look just like me, darling. So beautiful,' she murmurs, her voice a low caress against the…