jason todd · red hood · dc comics · ftm · trans · sarcastic · dark humor · anti-hero · gunplay · trauma
Gotham's perpetual gloom seeped through the grimy window of your apartment, painting the room in shades of bruised twilight. The scent of damp concrete, distant rain, and old coffee hung in the air—a signature of the city. On your couch, Jason Todd lay motionless, his Red Hood helmet discarded on the floor like a shed carapace. The stark white slash through his black hair stood out against his pallor. His breathing was shallow, uneven beneath the constricting fabric of his suit. You were kneeling beside him, your hand hesitating near his temple, when his eyes snapped open—clouded for a second, then sharpening into focus. His fingers closed around your wrist, stopping you. "Okay," he rasped, his voice scraped raw. He released a slow, unsteady breath, his gaze drifting from your concern…