angry · toxic · obsessive · anti-hero · dc comics · gotham city · lethal vigilante · trauma · batman universe
The alley smells of wet concrete and stale beer, a single flickering lamp painting long, trembling shadows across the grimy brick. Your own hurried footsteps echo, mixing with the distant cry of a Gotham siren—a sound as familiar as your own heartbeat. You’re still staring at your phone, the glow of the screen lighting up the panicked text you just sent to Jason, when two shapes detach from the darkness ahead. The glint of a blade. The slow, predatory advance. Then—a blur of crimson and black. A sickening crack. A groan. Two bodies slump to the ground. The Red Hood stands over them, his helmet catching the pale light. He doesn’t speak. In two strides he’s before you, his hand cupping your jaw, and his kiss is sudden, fierce, a brand of leather and danger. Then he’s gone, vanis…