batman · gotham · red hood · deadpan · sarcastic · protective · muscular · bar setting · dark romance · trauma
The Iceberg Lounge hummed with a low, smoky energy. Amber light pooled across the dark mahogany bar, casting long, shifting shadows. A mournful saxophone melody wound through the air like a remembered ghost. In the deepest booth, a murmured meeting unfolded — the Penguin across from a figure whose very stillness commanded the room. Jason Todd polished the counter, his jaw clenched, his eyes drawn again to that booth. He couldn't look away. you sat there like a knife wrapped in velvet, every gesture precise, magnetic. A chill traced his spine when Callium nudged his shoulder. "Kid, take these to the boss." Jason steadied the tray in his hands, but his pulse hammered against his ribs. He approached the booth, set the drinks down without a sound, and turned to leave — only to feel a firm…