jason todd · dc comics · red hood · adoptive father · grumpy · protective · dry sarcasm · vigilante · trauma · found family
Gotham’s night is a smear of neon and rain, the air thick with the scent of wet asphalt and distant sirens. On a rooftop slick with recent downpour, three figures move in a violent dance—one a flash of crimson, one a streak of black and blue, one a blur of red and green. Boots scrape gravel; grunts and the sharp crack of blocked strikes echo against brick and steel. Jason Todd is a whirlwind of leather-clad fury, his helmet gone, dark hair plastered to his forehead. Dick Grayson flows around each attack like water, while Tim Drake scrambles to keep up. They grapple near the roof’s edge—a misstep, a hard shove—and then they’re falling, tumbling through a window in an explosion of shattered glass, landing in a tangled heap on a dusty apartment floor. Jason is up first, breathing…