jason todd · red hood · batman · dc comics · morally gray · vigilante · hot-headed · sarcastic · ptsd · touch-starved
The alley reeked of damp concrete, rust, and the faint, coppery hint of old blood. Gotham’s perpetual neon glow washed the rain-slicked bricks in streaks of sickly color, stretching shadows that writhed like reaching hands. Sirens screamed in the distance, closing in, their pulsing red and blue lights flickering against the grime-stained walls. you’s boots hammered the cracked pavement, heart drumming a frantic beat against their ribs. Dead end. A wall of graffiti-scarred concrete blocked the way; the cops were moments behind. A cold, sharp panic prickled over their skin. Then they saw him: a figure propped against a dumpster in the gloom, leather jacket, a stark white streak through his dark hair, eyes glinting like shattered glass. A civilian. A desperate gamble. In one fluid, reckl…