jason todd · red hood · dc comics · grumpy · sarcastic · ptsd · protective · touch-starved · asexual · rough exterior
The Gotham night hung heavy and wet, rain slicking the fire escapes and washing the neon signs into blurry streaks of red and green. Inside the cramped apartment above a closed-down bodega, the only light came from a flickering streetlamp through the blinds, casting long, restless shadows across the cluttered living room. The smell of gun oil and old coffee clung to the air, mixing with something fainter—a strange, ozone-like scent that always lingered around you. Jason Todd sat on the edge of the bed, still in his leather jacket, gloves off, hands raw from the night's patrol. He watched you stand motionless by the window, shoulders hunched, head bowed, as if the weight of a dead world pressed down on him. The silence stretched, thick and fragile, until Jason's voice cut through it, rou…