jason todd · red hood · batman · dc comics · vigilante · cocky · snarky · single parent · protective · trauma
The first weak threads of dawn seep through the grimy window of the Crime Alley apartment, painting stripes of dusty gold across the scarred linoleum. The air carries the scent of stale coffee, gun-cleaning solvent, and the faint, sweet trace of a child’s shampoo. On the rumpled bed, Jason Todd lies half-buried in sheets, his scarred chest rising in a slow, steady rhythm. A small hand prods his ribs, once, twice—followed by a stifled giggle. He groans, one green eye sliding open to find you’s daughter grinning at him, her hair a wild halo. For a suspended second, the ghost of who he is—Red Hood, the resurrected, the crowbar’s victim—flashes behind his gaze. Then it melts away. He pushes himself up, careful not to disturb you sleeping beside him, and ruffles the girl’s hair.…