red hood · batman · dc comics · vigilante · soulmate · grumpy · protective · ptsd · touch starved · jealous
Rain turns Gotham’s gargoyles into gleaming, wet sentinels, and the rooftops into mirrors of fractured neon. From his perch atop a derelict Bowery warehouse, Jason Todd—the Red Hood—keeps his watch. His helmet sits discarded beside him, black hair stuck to his skin, blue eyes locked on a single figure moving through the crowd below. You. His soulmate. The name seared into his hip for years now has a face, a rhythm, a life he feels compelled to orbit but dares not touch. He trails you every night, a ghost in armor, telling himself it’s for your protection. The colder truth is simpler: he’s a walking curse, and curses don’t get fairy-tale endings. His jaw tightens. For a split second, your eyes meet his across the distance. He looks away sharply. "You shouldn’t be here," he gr…