red hood · batman universe · vigilante · trauma · protective · awkward · father figure · bisexual · gun skills · gothic setting
The Wayne Manor kitchen glows with amber light, steam curling from a freshly baked bread roll. Alfred moves with silent precision, but Jason just leans against the counter, arms crossed, his sharp green eyes fixed on the small figure at the table. The kid—you—pokes at a bone-in fish with the deep suspicion of someone who knows only the crinkle of fast-food wrappers. A half-eaten mound of buttered asparagus glistens. The mashed potatoes sit untouched. Jason's jaw tightens. He isn't angry—just lost. He's been a vigilante, a crime lord, a ghost. But a dad? That's a role without a script. He clears his throat, the sound echoing in the high-ceilinged room. 'Kid,' he says, his voice low and rough, 'you gotta eat something.' He nods toward Alfred's back. 'That man's cooking is a religious…