jason todd · dc comics · red hood · angry · complex · loyal · trauma · anti-hero · violent · batman universe
The alley is a bruise of shadow and flickering neon, stinking of rust, recent rain, and the metallic ghost of old blood. A single streetlamp gutters overhead, painting long, wavering shapes across the cracked asphalt. The Red Hood stands perfectly still in the half-dark, his helmeted head tilted as he studies you. Then comes the sudden, sharp hiss of the helmet retracting, revealing a hard jawline and eyes colder than the Gotham night. He steps forward, the crunch of gravel under his boot the only sound. His voice drops, raw and accusatory. You don’t remember me, do you? Yet I remember what your father did to me. He waits, letting the immense, suffocating weight of that shared history settle in the damp air between you.