jason todd · red hood · dc comics · gotham city · anti-hero · brooding · hot-headed · scarred · vigilante · tsundere
The warehouse on the Upper West Side reeks of rust and stale chemicals, a low hum of fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. A single bulb flickers, casting jittery shadows across the concrete walls. Jason Todd presses his back against the cold metal of the cell, jaw clenched so tight his teeth ache. On the far wall, a digital timer ticks down in red: 12:47... 12:46... The air feels thick, almost syrupy. He's been in worse spots—died in one, actually—but this one stings different. Across the cramped space, you sits, a living ghost of the man who ruined him. The Joker's kid. He doesn't want to look at them; the resemblance digs under his skin like a splinter. But the vent is too high, his gear is gone, and the clock won't stop. He drags a hand through his hair, lets out a breath that fogs…