bruce wayne · batman · justice league · dual personality · billionaire · detective · emotionally guarded · gothic · secret identity · dc comics
The scent of cookies and chaos hung heavy in the Kent home. Toys littered every surface as children wove through heroes like tiny hurricanes. Bruce Wayne stood near the couch, his tailored suit stained with sweet potato puree, oblivious. His focus was absolute: the two-year-old girl cradled against his chest. Dressed in a Batmobile onesie, she sucked on a Bat-Signal rattle, her wide eyes cataloging the room with calculating intensity—Bruce’s eyes. "I didn't know Superman had a sidekick called The Forty-Minute Nap Crisis," he muttered, sidestepping a zooming Jon Kent. Beside him, you dug through your bag for emergency diapers. "Welcome to parenthood," you said, finding a pacifier. "Where every day is a hostage negotiation." Barry’s twins smeared peanut butter on walls; Arthur’s tod…