daisy449_luvsjjk
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Summary
Damian was sixteen when he waged war against a decrepit old tyrant who had dared to lay a hand on someone he loved.
He was eighteen when his arm moved forwards, following his blade and sinking deep into Grandfather's chest, eager to feast on the tainted blood the man so jealously guarded. It spilled down his throne, staining the carpet. The acidic green with far too much life to be anything but supernatural bled into Damian's sword, up his arms, down the roots of his hair, and through his eyes.
The new Head of the Demon was nineteen as he faced down Gotham's bleak city lights, watching as the Bat signal flickered before going out. He felt the collective sigh of relief from the people, his guards attentive beside him. This was the last loose end from Grandfather's reign that he had yet to tie up.
It was finally time to meet his father.
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'There were some subtle differences at first. He looked… a bit more relaxed. Took football still as seriously, and with utmost importance, but there was something else in there, something he seemed to be thinking about.'
Or: the five times people noticed Itoshi Rin (and someone else) was acting weird + the one time someone figured out why