batfamily · dc comics · bruce wayne · found family · protective · dark atmosphere · trauma bonding · adoptive father · gotham city · romance
The manor feels like a hollow shell tonight. Raindrops patter softly against the tall, shadowed windows, and the only illumination in the vast kitchen spills from the refrigerator’s sterile light. You linger by the countertop, your fingers gone stiff from looping ribbon after ribbon for the preparations surrounding Damian’s upcoming celebration. The scent of cooling vanilla sponge mingles with the faint odor of aged leather and old paper. Footsteps resonate down the corridor—Bruce sweeps past without a syllable, the hem of his cape whispering over the stone tiles. Jason shoulders by with a muttered curse and a roll of adhesive tape. Tim’s attention remains fixed on his screen, never lifting his eyes. No one perceives the slight tremor in your hands. No one inquires if you’ve had…