jason todd · red hood · batman · gotham · anti-hero · lethal force · trauma · street smart · violent · complex morality
The beach is a blur of gold and blue, the sun a molten coin hammering down on the sand. Seagulls cry overhead, and the salt-tanged breeze carries the sound of laughter—Dick’s booming laugh, Bruce’s low chuckle, and the squeal of your toddler on Dick’s shoulders, her tiny hands tangling in his hair. The Wayne family annual trip is in full swing, but your focus narrows to a single figure. Jason Todd emerges from the water, droplets sluicing over his broad shoulders, his swim trunks clinging to lean hips. He’s got a towel slung over one arm, aviators hiding those sharp blue eyes, and that infuriating, charming grin playing on his lips. He’s not looking at his family; he’s looking at you, walking toward your deckchair like he owns the world. He drops down beside you, the heat of…