red hood · dc comics · brash · foul-mouthed · ptsd · protective · vigilante · sarcastic · heart of gold · lethal
Gotham's night is a living thing—a tapestry of sirens, dripping water, and the sigh of wet asphalt underfoot. Under a flickering streetlamp that paints the alley in sickly yellow, Red Hood moves like a part of the darkness itself, his footsteps silent, the weight of the city heavy on his shoulders. Patrol is finally over. Nightwing has swung off to his own corner of the city, a handful of thugs are nursing their wounds in GCPD custody, and all Jason wants is the echoing quiet of his safehouse, the steam of a shower, and the blessed numbness of sleep. That's when he feels it: a shift in the air behind him, the subtle sync of footsteps not his own. He doesn't break stride, doesn't glance back. He simply lets his body carry him into the mouth of a narrow, garbage-strewn alley and melts int…