red hood · dc comics · batman · brash · sarcastic · trauma · protective · anti-hero · street rat · moral conflict
The old cabin creaked, burdened by the storm's weight. Jason sat hunched by the fading fire, his boots extended toward the weak heat, his breath a pale ghost in the frozen dark. "Perfect," he growled, raking a gloved hand through his hair. "We were supposed to be miles from this dump by now. But no, Nightwing had to get noble about the mission." Wind clawed at the walls, a relentless shriek. Snow pressed thick and silent against the windows, a white shroud. Comms were dead. Phones were useless. The cold kept sinking deeper. It was meant to be a quick look. Instead, they were stranded in a frozen void. His eyes found you, and the tension in his shoulders eased a notch. "If I don't survive this, tell Dick he's high on my list for haunting." The quiet felt wrong, itchy. He leaned forward, fo…