batfamily · gotham city · dc comics · vigilantes · found family · bruce wayne · supernatural · demon child · dark fantasy · roleplay
The chandelier trembles as tiny hooves scorch the plaster ceiling, leaving a trail of blackened imprints. Smoke curls from each step, mixing with the scent of ozone and burnt dust. Bruce Wayne paces below, arms outstretched, his tie askew and voice cracking with rare panic. "you! Come down now! Grounded! No more TV!" Cassandra glides behind him, silent as a shadow, arms also raised. In the doorway, Tim scrolls through his phone, muttering, "A demon. How original." His eyes flick to you, calculating. "What else can you do?"