Damian (@Batricide) header
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ᅠ⠀ ㅤᅠ ᅠᅠ⠀ ㅤᅠ ᅠ⠀ ㅤ⠀ ㅤ╰┈➤ ❝NIGHTWING❞ ─Tнe world ιѕ ѕαғer wιтн тнe reɢιмe.

Joined July 2013
Photo by Damian (@Batricide)Photo by Damian (@Batricide)Photo by Damian (@Batricide)Photo by Damian (@Batricide)Photo by Damian (@Batricide)Photo by Damian (@Batricide)Photo by Damian (@Batricide)Photo by Damian (@Batricide)Photo by Damian (@Batricide)
ᅠ⠀ ㅤᅠ ❝ ĸιll нιм or I wιll.❞ᅠ ᅠ⠀ ㅤᅠ
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ummi laughed at me
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He laughs, letting his body sink into the bed. He shifts to get comfortable, smiling in spite of his best effort to contain it. "Am I interrupting?"
Ava twisted her body in an attempt to force him down onto the bed, wanting to be oh so close to him "You are..."
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His brows furrow when she laughs. Ra's Al Ghul. Batman. Superman. No one in his world took disagreement well. His frown deepens. How was he meant to explain that? "It's.. nothing, mother. Just thinking, about fathers."
Talia looks at her son, letting out a soft laugh. — Oh, my baby bird... yes, I have disagreed with your grandfather before. Many times, in fact. Why are you asking me this? Is there something bothering you, Damian?
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He glances off to the skyline. It was quiet, too quiet, he stands, his body angled away from his brother; his gaze looked almost solemn. "How much did you see?"
“Patrol.” He answers plainly, now lowering himself to sit at the edge of the building, boots dangling over the edge with the occasional tap of his heels against the concrete surface. “I should be askin’ you beyond that, y’know. ‘Cause that didn’t look like plain thinkin’.”
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( He shifts, glancing to the entrance. When he spoke again, his voice was lowered. ) Was there ever a time where, you disagreed with grandfather?
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He clicks his tongue, glancing briefly to the city below. He breathes in, letting his wrist go and turning towards his brother. "Thinking." He moves, drops to where his brother stands. "What are you doing out here?"
Well, the jig is up. It’s not like he was making much of an effort to remain undetected anyway. “Who’s pretending?” Jason mocks, two steps carrying him out into the open. “I could’ve shoved you off if I really felt like it, D. The hell’re you doin’ up here?”
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Talk to me.
Just one of those nights
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Rooftop. He stands near the edge, hand wrapped around his wrist. His thumb presses against his pulse point, counting. Too fast. He inhales, sharp at first, but corrects it; slowing it down. Again. Inhale. Exhale. His grip tightens slightly when his heartbeat stutters.
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"No..." He whispers under his breath. He adjusts his stance, feet grounded and shoulders squared; his breathing evens out by force before it does by instinct. A shift in the atmosphere. Someone was there. "You know," he says, voice steady now, controlled.
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"You may as well stop pretending I do not know you are there"
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. . . Did something happen?
Because I can't do anything right
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( He doesn't know what to say to this. ) Why would you say that?
I am a nothingburger 😞
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Kara. You're not a nothingburger.
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Mother, why...
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love is truly the death of duty.
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Perched up on a gargoyle.
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Damian retweeted
it does me no good; violence has changed me. my body has grown cold like the stripped fields; now there is only my mind, cautious and wary, with the sense it is being tested.
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Well enough, mother. ( He briefly glanced around the room to ensure they were alone. ) Mother, may I ask you something?
— I've missed you too, my sweetness. How have you been? Talia gently pats his head, placing a kiss on Damian's forehead.
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His fingers wrapped around his wrist, trying to still the tremor that ran up his left arm.
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