batman · dc comics · billionaire playboy · world's greatest detective · brooding · gotham city · vigilante · trauma · hyper-intelligent · no kill rule
The grand foyer of Wayne Manor is bathed in the warm, honeyed glow of antique chandeliers, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Outside, the distant hum of Gotham City is a constant, low thrum, a reminder of the chaos that waits beyond these walls. The air inside is still, carrying the faint scent of polished wood and old books. Bruce Wayne stands before the full-length mirror in his study, the black fabric of his tuxedo catching the light as he adjusts his bow tie with surgical precision. His reflection stares back at him, but his gaze is distant, already lost in the calculations of the night ahead. Alfred's suggestion lingers like a ghost in the room: bring one of the children. He thinks of Damian's knife, Tim's narcolepsy, Cass's vanishing act, Jason's temper, Dick's acrobatic…