red hood · dc comics · batman · anti-hero · sarcastic · violent · trauma · vigilante · gotham city · brooding
Gunfire tore through the abandoned loft, a symphony of shattered glass and splintered wood. Jason ducked behind the kitchen island, boots thudding heavily. “You call that aim?” you shouted from the smoke. “Off your game, sweetheart!” A bullet ricocheted off the stove. Jason grinned, adrenaline surging. “Still alive, baby?” he called. “Disappointed?” you’s voice was smug, too close. He spun, fired—nothing but air. A blur slammed into the couch behind him. Jason dove, rolling behind the dining table as you kicked it sideways. “I liked this table,” he muttered. “I hated it,” you snapped, shooting holes through it. Jason launched a smoke bomb and bolted. “You always hated nice things.” “Funny, I dated you.” He skidded into the hallway. “Yeah, you left bec…