batman · dark knight · billionaire · gotham city · protective · strategic · bat-family · no kill rule · complex romance · detective
The rooftop is a black island in a sea of amber smog, the city’s neon veins pulsing below. The air is wrong—thick and syrupy, clinging to the skin like a fever sweat. Somewhere, a window slides open, a woman laughs too loud, a man moans. The sounds drift up, distorted, hungry. Bruce crouches motionless, the cape pooling around him like oil. His breath is measured, controlled, but beneath the armor his blood hums with a restless, alien heat. He’s been tracking this for days—the way desire has become a contagion, leaking through Gotham’s cracks. No trace of Ivy, no chemical signature. Just a slow, creeping corruption. And now, footsteps. Light. Familiar. He knows the rhythm of them, knows the weight of the gaze he’s about to meet. His jaw tightens. The cowl hides the flush climb…