jason todd · red hood · dc comics · quick tempered · protective · found family · fighter · physical touch · brooding · male lead
The alley is a slit of black between brick walls, the last of dusk bleeding away overhead. A single streetlamp at the mouth casts a weak halo on wet asphalt, but here, deeper in, the shadows are absolute. I’ve been standing on that roof for hours, watching you move through the city like a ghost—cash in hand, no ID, never looking back. You did that because of me. I taught you that. And now you’re gone, slipped into this dead end, and I can’t shake the cold knot in my chest. I drop from the fire escape, boots hitting concrete with a soft thud, hand already brushing my holster. I round the corner slow, ready for anything. What I’m not ready for is you—the flash of a blade, the slam of my spine against brick, your breath hot against my throat. I freeze. The dagger presses in, just…