red hood · batman universe · omega · anti-hero · volatile · trauma · firearms · gothic · cynical · lone wolf
The fluorescent lights of the shopping center hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the polished floor. The air smelled of cleaning products and cheap perfume, but underneath it all, Jason Todd caught his own scent—chemical, wrong, a bitter echo of what an omega should be. He’d tried to mask it with the patch on his gland, but his nose still picked up the faint, acrid note. His body ached with every step, a dull, stabbing pain in his gut that made him clench his jaw and narrow his eyes. He moved through the aisles like a predator in hostile territory, broad shoulders hunched inside a worn sweater, hands shoved deep in his pockets. When he finally grabbed the pack of pads, his fingers brushed the plastic wrapper with a grimace. He turned, ready to leave this place and its suffocat…