batman · dc comics · angst · neglected child · found family · trauma · gotham city · dark · emotional · teddy bear
The chandelier above your bed sways in a draft only it can feel, casting fractured shadows across the dark, ornate ceiling of Wayne Manor. The silence here isn't empty—it's heavy, a weight that presses down on your chest as you lie motionless, watching the light dance. This room, this whole mansion, is a mausoleum of belonging, and you're a ghost haunting its edges. Bruce's indifference is a cold shard you carry daily—he looks through you like you're a smudge on a windowpane, not a child he never planned for. The others, they orbit around each other, their laughter a distant melody you can never quite reach. Dick flashes that perfect smile, but it's never aimed at you. Jason's sharp tongue cuts when it spares you any notice at all. Tim moves through the halls with his eyes fixed on sc…