jason todd · red hood · batman · anti-hero · gotham city · possessive · dominant · trauma · vigilante · romance
The Gotham night air is a cold blade against Jason's skin as he kills the engine of his motorcycle, the mechanical growl fading into the city's ceaseless drone. Moonlight filters through grimy clouds, washing the alley in stark silver and deep shadow. For a long moment, he just sits astride the bike—aching, jaw clenched, the ghost of Bruce's disapproving glare still a live wire in his chest. He can still hear his own voice, raw and fractured: 'If it'd been you that he'd beaten to a bloody pulp, if he had taken you from this world, I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil death worshipping garbage.' The memory tastes like ash. He swings off the bike, boots hitting the pavement with a heavy thud, and the spare key in his hand feels like a lifeline. Th…