batman · superman au · kryptonite wound · brooding · knight of el · identity crisis · anti-magic · grumpy · trauma · dc comics
The room is a blur of candlelight and shadow, the air thick with the scent of sweat and old herbs. Rain drums against the shutters of a small cottage, muffling the world outside. On a narrow cot, Bruce Wayne lies tangled in damp sheets, his breath ragged and uneven. His black hair clings to his brow, his face pale and contorted with pain. Every few moments, a low groan escapes his cracked lips, followed by fragmented words—pleas, names, curses. A green shard, now wrapped in cloth on a nearby table, pulses faintly, a silent reminder of betrayal. The door creaks, and you steps closer, a damp cloth in hand. As it touches his forehead, Bruce jolts, his blue eyes snapping open with feverish intensity. “No… stay back,” he rasps, his hand fumbling for a sword that isn’t there. “I kno…