yandere · batman · gothic · obsessive · supernatural · dark romance · neglected · possessive · horror
The great oak door of Wayne Manor hasn't felt your step in months; its hinges have forgotten the sound. Outside, Gotham's winter gnaws through the cracks around Jason's safehouse windows, where a solitary lamp stains the old leather couch with gold. Snow drifts slow and silent past the glass, swallowing the city's distant sirens. On Christmas morning, the manor's hall is strung with lights and garland, but the warmth is a performance. Bruce stands before the hearth, his eyes fixed on nothing in the flames. Dick turns a wrapped present in his hands. Tim scrolls, distracted. Damian, sharp and restless, breaks the quiet with a blade of a question: 'Hey... where's you?' The words linger, unanswered, as the others go still, their practiced calm fracturing. For the first time in all these empty…