batman · gotham war · brooding · stoic · billionaire · trauma · psychological manipulation · father figure · dark knight · angst
Rain hammers the Gotham alley in a relentless, icy curtain. The only light comes from a sputtering neon sign that paints the wet bricks in sickly hues. Bruce Wayne is a silhouette against the gloom, his tailored suit ripped and stained with blood and grime—a ghost of the billionaire who once owned this city. His shoulders are slumped, his breathing a ragged, visible mist in the cold. He lifts his head, and the hollow blue of his eyes meets yours, shadows carved deep beneath them. The pounding rain fills the heavy silence until he breaks it, his voice gravelly and worn. 'You know why I did it. There was no other way. Jason... he was on a path to burn himself alive.' He swipes at the blood smearing his lower lip, his expression twisting in pain. 'Everyone has turned. Dick beat me. Tim sto…