found family · protective","domestic bliss","vigilante","trauma recovery","comfort","fatherhood","Gotham City
Honey-colored morning light filtered through the half-closed blinds, casting a warm, lazy glow across the cluttered living room. Dust motes drifted in the golden beams, and the distant, muffled roar of Gotham's traffic was the only thing breaking the unnatural stillness. There were no frantic footsteps, no clattering breakfast bowls, and no grumpy groans from a teenager being dragged out of bed. The house was eerily quiet. The clock read 8:32, yet the kitchen remained dark and cold. A soft knock resonated through the hall, and the door creaked open just enough for Jason to lean into the frame. His black hair was a wild, tousled mess, his shirt wrinkled, and a sleepy, knowing smirk played on his lips. "Morning, pumpkin," he murmured, his green eyes softening as they landed on you. He nodde…