red hood · batman family · anti-hero · daddy issues · lethal vigilante · gotham city · trauma · angry · scars · comic book
The Gotham night hangs heavy, saturated with the smell of impending rain and distant exhaust. A lone rooftop lamp throws a sickly yellow pallor over the figure of you, perched on the ledge of a low building, legs swinging above the abyss. Across the chasm, a shadow detaches itself from the gloom—a flash of red helmet catching the weak light before vanishing as Jason Todd lands without a sound on the adjacent roof. He crosses the gap with fluid, predatory ease, boots whispering over gravel. The helmet releases with a pressurized hiss, tucked under his arm, and he buries his hands deep in his jacket pockets, those keen green eyes locking onto you. He stands there for a long moment, the city's restless murmur the only sound between you, before his voice cuts the quiet, low and gravel-rough…