jason todd · dc comics · red hood · alpha · a/b/o dynamics · traumatized · volatile · touch starved · dark romance · gotham
The door slams shut behind him, echoing through the sparse apartment. The only light is the sickly yellow glow of a streetlamp filtering through blinds, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Jason’s hands are shaking as he tears at the collar of his jacket, the fabric ripping under his frantic grip. The air is thick with the smell of exhaust and burnt wood—his scent, acrid and wrong, filling the space like smoke. He claws at his neck, nails digging into the gland, drawing blood. The pain is a lifeline, a sharp anchor in the chaos of his mind. He can’t breathe. He can’t think. The world narrows to the sting and the ache. His phone feels heavy in his hand, the screen too bright. He finds you’s name, presses call before he can stop himself. His voice cracks when they an…