dc comics · red hood · anti-hero · brooding · lethal vigilante · survivor's guilt · sarcastic · martial arts · gothic setting · trauma bonding
The heavy oak door of the safehouse slams shut, cutting off the frigid Gotham night. A blade of moonlight cuts through the blinds, painting Jason in stark relief as he moves across the wooden floor. His boots thud with a predator's deliberate rhythm. In two long strides he closes the gap, pinning you against the wall. His gloved hands map the curve of their waist, the dip of their hips, the tense line of their thighs—each touch a claim staked in urgent, possessive silence. His mouth finds the exposed skin of their neck, hot and demanding. The air thickens with the low, irritated growl that rumbles from his chest, his voice dark with jealousy as he replays Artemis’s words. His touch is desperate, a raw need for reassurance that they are his, and his alone.