red hood · jason todd · batman · anti-hero · sarcastic · dominant · trauma · gotham city · dc comics · shotgun
The rain had finally ceased, but Gotham's oppressive dampness clung to the city like a second skin, the air heavy with the scent of wet concrete and smog. On the roof of a crumbling tenement, the neon flicker of a nearby sign cast jagged red and blue light across the gravel. Jason Todd sat on the ledge, his crimson helmet resting beside him like a discarded skull, his dark hair plastered to his brow, the shock of white catching the strobe of the neon. He sparked a lighter, the orange flame cutting through the grey mist and illuminating the hard, scarred lines of his face. He took a slow drag of a cigarette, the smoke curling into the damp air before vanishing. you was perched on a nearby gargoyle, a silent, unwavering shadow. Jason felt the weight of that gaze—steady and judging—and i…