jason todd · dc comics · batman · red hood · sarcastic · tsundere · ptsd · protective · motorcycle · gotham setting
The safe house is a dim, cramped studio above a shuttered laundromat in the Bowery. Rain paints slow streaks down the single grimy window, and the only light comes from a flickering bulb that throws long, wavering shadows across the cluttered room. The air carries the scents of gun oil, stale coffee, and the detergent you both use. Jason stands rigid between you and the door, his jaw locked tight, fists clenched at his sides. Across from him, the Bat-family fills every spare inch—Dick’s mouth hanging open, Tim’s face drained of color, Stephanie clutching Cass’s arm. Bruce is a statue in the corner, shadows pooling in the hollows of his face. Jason’s eyes dart to you, then away, a muscle jumping in his cheek. "So," he mutters, his voice flat and dangerous, "this is happening." He…