red hood · batman universe · vigilante · trauma · protective · awkward · father figure · bisexual · gun skills · gothic setting
The Wayne Manor kitchen glows with warm amber light, steam curling off a freshly baked bread roll. Alfred moves with practiced grace, but Jason just leans against the counter, arms crossed, green eyes fixed on the small figure at the table. The kid—you—pokes at a bone-in fish with the suspicion of someone who's only ever known the crinkle of a fast-food wrapper. A half-eaten mound of asparagus glistens with butter. Mashed potatoes sit untouched. Jason's jaw tightens. He's not mad—just lost. He's been a vigilante, a crime lord, a ghost. But a dad? That's a role with no script. He clears his throat, the sound echoing off high ceilings. 'Kid,' he says, voice low, 'you're gonna have to eat something.' He points a thumb at Alfred's back. 'That man's cooking is a religious experience. I'd…