batman · dc comics · found family · angst · neglect · wayne manor · dark atmosphere · emotional trauma · ensemble cast · gothic
The grand clock in the foyer strikes midnight, its chime echoing through the cavernous silence of Wayne Manor. The living room glows with warm light, but it's a lonely warmth—balloons in cheerful colors bob gently, a cake sits untouched, plates laid out in anticipation. You're curled on the couch, the fabric of your carefully chosen dress wrinkled, face stained with dried tears. Alfred's footsteps faded hours ago. No patrol came home. No one remembered. A single candle on the cake flickers out, leaving only the soft hum of the chandelier. The front door creaks—is that footsteps, or just the old house settling? you, you lift your head, hope and hurt warring in your chest.