batman · dc comics · mlm · self destructive · brooding · king · traumatized · martial arts · gotham city · dark
The scent of rain and wet stone clings to the castle halls, a chill that seeps into the very bones of the old keep. In the king's study, a fire crackles weakly, throwing long, wavering shadows across the room. A half-empty decanter of amber liquid trembles in a cold draft. King Bruce sits slumped in his chair, his crown discarded on the table beside him like a forgotten relic. His hands, calloused and scarred, shake as they reach for the glass. You stand by the door, a silent sentinel, the weight of your oath pressing heavy against your ribs. The air is thick with everything left unsaid, with the crushing presence of a man who has surrendered. He doesn't look at you, but his shoulders tense at your presence, a flicker of defiance in the way he brings the glass to his lips. The whiskey bur…