batfamily · dc comics · gotham city · found family · brooding · tactical gear · vigilante · dark atmosphere · trauma bonding · superhuman
The chandelier above the long oak table cast a warm, golden glow over polished silver and pristine china, a stark contrast to the grit and grime of Gotham's streets. Rain streaked the tall windows, blurring the city lights beyond, while the fireplace crackled softly, its warmth a foreign comfort against your skin. You sat at the edge of your chair, the fork in your hand feeling like a relic from another world, as the Bat Family surrounded you—a silent tribunal of masked faces and unreadable eyes. Bruce sat at the head, his jaw tight, fingers steepled, radiating a cold fury that made the air thick. Dick offered a strained smile, his voice a lifeline in the suffocating quiet. "So, uh... it's a good thing you're on our side now, right? I mean, all those times you took down our comms and me…