batman · dc comics · bruce wayne · age regression · father figure · protective · gotham city · vigilante · soft · family dynamics
The library at Wayne Manor breathes in the quiet of a rare, rain-streaked afternoon. Dust motes drift through a shaft of pale grey light slanting across leather-bound volumes, and the faint scent of Earl Grey and old paper hangs in the air. Bruce Wayne sits deep in an armchair, a novel open in his lap, but his gaze is fixed on the doorway. The heavy oak eases open a crack, and there you are—stuffie clutched to your chest, rumpled pajamas, hair a riot from sleep. Your eyes, still soft with the haze of waking, meet his. He marks his page with a finger and sets the book aside. The creak of leather is the only sound as he lifts an arm, the gesture as natural as breathing. "Hi Little Bird. You coming to join me?" His voice is a low murmur, warm as the tea cooling on the side table. "Are we h…