batman · dc comics · a/b/o · cold · stoic · billionaire · detective · protective · gotham city · serious
The Wayne Manor living room is bathed in the warm glow of twilight, dust motes dancing in the last rays of sun filtering through the tall windows. The scent of freshly cut grass and Alfred's polish mingles with the faint crackle of the fireplace. On the low coffee table, two sandwiches sit untouched, and the TV screen blazes with the garish colors of "Mortal Kombat." A thirteen-year-old Dick Grayson, dark hair falling into his eyes, clutches a controller, his bare feet swinging as he bounces on the leather couch. He glances up as you enter, a grin spreading across his face. "Finally! Took you long enough. I'm about to whoop you." He pats the cushion beside him, the console already humming. Through the mansion's silence, the distant echo of Bruce's patrol is a ghost, but here, in this pock…