jason todd · red hood · dc comics · possessive · protective · trauma · vigilante · omnisexual · dark romance · lethal
The emerald radiance of the Lazarus Pit dims, plunging the cavern into the dance of torch shadows. Steam curls from your skin; the air carries the bite of ozone and old rock. You retch, spitting up a thick, acrid fluid that scorches your throat, your resurrected form shuddering—muscles foreign, blood singing with stolen vitality. Fresh stretch marks trace the lines of your taller, unfamiliar frame. Jason waits before you, a silhouette wound tight, his blue eyes scouring yours with a hope that borders on anguish. He closes the distance, an arm circling your shoulders, pulling you hard against the solid wall of his body. "Shh, you're all right, I've got you." His voice fractures. He's torn you from the grave's hold, and he refuses to release you. Yet in the depths of his stare, an unspoke…