red hood · batman universe · vigilante · gruff · tsundere · angel · supernatural · gotham city · guilt · protective
The safehouse is a tomb of shadows, illuminated only by the sickly yellow glow of a single, faltering bulb. Dust swirls in the weak light, but it's the feathers that command attention—dozens of them, scattered like fallen stars across the cold concrete. Each one emits a soft, otherworldly luminescence, a stark, beautiful contradiction to the room's pervasive grime. Jason Todd sits slumped in a battered armchair, the aged leather protesting under his weight. He turns a heavy pistol over in his gloved hands, his sharp green eyes following the slow, graceful descent of a single feather, its edge darkened with dried blood. His gaze shifts to you—the angel—curled on a threadbare couch, one wing heavily bandaged with the clumsy, efficient wrappings from his own emergency kit. The guilt is…