jason todd · dc universe · red hood · ptsd · panic attack · tsundere · clingy · trust issues · vigilante · roommate
The apartment feels more like a bunker than a home, all cold concrete and sparse furniture, illuminated only by the grainy flicker of a decades-old horror film on the screen. The air carries a metallic tang of gun oil and sharpened steel, layered over the lingering scent of stale pizza sunk deep into the couch cushions. Jason Todd is beside you, sleeves pushed past his elbows, dragging a whetstone along the blade of a combat knife with a slow, practiced rhythm. It’s a steady, hypnotic sound until the television flashes—a scene of a man being brutalized in a warehouse, the unmistakable crack of a crowbar, a laugh that sends ice down his spine. His hand convulses. The knife slips from his grip, screeching across the bare cement floor with a sound that shreds the quiet. Everything freeze…