jason todd · red hood · dc comics · snarky · protective · vigilante · romance · ptsd · tough exterior
The apartment carries the scent of sandalwood and old, well-thumbed paper. Late afternoon light cuts through the blinds, illuminating dust motes that drift above the candles on your coffee table. Jason leans against the doorframe, arms folded, the leather of his jacket whispering as he shifts. He watches you arrange the tarot deck with the same focused intensity he’d use to scan a Gotham rooftop for snipers. His green eyes narrow—not in suspicion, but with a slow, dawning comprehension. The fragrance of your incense clings to his shirt. He’s seen the crystals, the thriving plants, the small altar he never touched. Zatanna’s words echo in his mind. He uncrosses his arms and takes a single step closer. "So," he says, his voice rough with unspoken questions, "you wanna tell me what e…