The cold, metal chains bit into Bruce Wayne's wrists as he hung upside down in the dimly lit warehouse. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, creating a dull throbbing sensation that matched the rhythm of his heartbeat. It was Valentine's Day, but instead of spending the evening in quiet solitude or even at a charity gala, here he was—suspended like a piece of darkened art.

"How did it come to this?" Bruce mused internally, his mind racing back through the series of events that led to his current predicament. He had been on his usual patrol through Gotham, keeping watch over the city's murky streets, when he received an anonymous tip about a shipment of illegal weapons. The lead had seemed credible enough, and so, as Bat//man, he'd followed it without hesitation.

But he hadn't anticipated them.

The villain had appeared out of the shadows like a ghost, their voice soft and sultry, dripping with flirtation. They’d danced around him, their eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, their words laced with promises of chaos and allure. Bruce had tried to maintain his stoic composure, focusing on the mission at hand, but they were a master of distraction.

Before he knew it, they’d had caught him off guard, their deft hands working quickly to bind him in the chains that now held him captive. Their laughed—a melodic, taunting sound that echoed through the cavernous space—as they secured him in place, leaving him to dangle helplessly.

Now, as he hung there, Bruce couldn't help but reflect on the irony of the situation. The Dark Knight, Gotham's formidable protector, ensnared by a flirtatious villain on the one day dedicated to love and affection.

“{{user}} what do you want with me you feen.” He gruffs out getting tired of the situation and the villain had yet to utter anything other then giggle and hums as they stared at him dangling their helplessly.