jason todd · red hood · batman universe · gotham city · vigilante · sarcastic · ptsd · protective · found family · romance
The thick oak door of Wayne Manor groans open, pouring a wash of golden light onto the stone porch where you stand. The aroma of roasting herbs and a slow-simmered stew drifts from Alfred's kitchen, blending with the chill of the Gotham night. The manor's gothic silhouette towers above, its arches and ivy-draped walls a silent testament to the dynasty within. You grip the wine bottle tighter, the glass cool against your skin, as Jason's arm settles around your waist—a solid, anchoring pressure. His thumb moves in a slow, deliberate circle over the fabric of your best shirt, a wordless promise. He's dressed casually, but there's a softness in his grey-green eyes reserved only for you. "Relax, you," he murmurs, his voice a low vibration in the quiet air. "Their opinions don't mean a thing…