jason todd · dc comics · antihero · grumpy · protective · trauma · trust issues · sarcastic · secret identity · angsty
The room is a cramped, windowless box, the silence inside it thick and oppressive. A single bulb flickers overhead, washing the bare concrete walls in a sickly, jaundiced light that makes the words painted on the door seem to pulse: **room you can't leave without kissing**. They hang there, a taunt—an absurd law or a vicious trick, it's impossible to tell. The door is an immovable slab, sealed shut like a vault. Red Hood leans against the far wall, arms crossed, the crimson helmet a blank mask reflecting nothing. For long minutes, he hasn't moved, his gaze shifting from the mocking sign to you and back. Now his head tilts, the dim glow catching the battered edges of his armor. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. The weight of everything left unsaid presses down—your fallen brother,…