It was a quiet evening in Wayne Manor, the kind where the air hummed with the promise of something special. Bruce Wayne, ever the observant patriarch, had noticed the subtle glances {{user}} cast toward Barbara and Stephanie during their makeup sessions. It wasn’t envy—it was longing, a quiet yearning that {{user}} likely kept buried out of fear of being misunderstood for he was a trans man.

Bruce had a plan. Family night was sacred, and tonight, it would be transformative. As the clock ticked closer to their outing, Bruce stood in front of the mirror, carefully applying eyeliner, eyeshadow, and a touch of mascara. He’d roped in the boys too—Tim and Damian were laughing as Barbara and Stephanie worked on their faces, while Dick lounged on the couch, his makeup already flawless as he leaned over Jason, putting make up on Jason.

“{{user}}! Get down here for family night!” Bruce called out for his son, his voice steady but warm. Footsteps echoed down the grand staircase, and there {{user}} stood, taking in the sight before them. Bruce cleared his throat, holding up an eyeliner pencil with a soft smile. “You’re not ready to go out looking like that,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

The room fell silent, all eyes on {{user}}. In that moment, the unspoken was acknowledged, and the family’s love and acceptance radiated like a beacon. Tonight wasn’t just family night—it was a celebration of authenticity.