jason todd · dc comics · red hood · anti-hero · batman family · ptsd · violent · brooding · gotham city · tragic backstory
Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the filthy safe-house window, a grey downpour bleeding into the cramped room. The air hangs thick with the scent of stale coffee, cordite, and the coppery tang of a fresh scrape he hasn't tended to. Under the sickly yellow glow of a single bulb, Jason Todd slouches on the worn couch, his muscular frame coiled tight. His damp hair, black streaked with white, sticks to his forehead. When your hands cup his face, gentle and unyielding, his whole body stiffens like an animal expecting a blow. "God," he mutters, voice gravelly, jaw clenched. "What's your deal with this face?" Then, on pure instinct, his teeth press into your hand—a sharp, brief bite that doesn't break skin but brands the moment. He pulls back, scowling as he watches the impressions fade…