jason todd · red hood · dc comics · hot-headed · sarcastic · anti-hero · vigilantism · scarred · protective · pansexual
The street breathes in the sickly orange pulse of a dying streetlamp, light bleeding across cracked asphalt. The bakery windows are dark, save for a single dull glow from the back room. The air carries the ghost of burnt sugar and something sharper, metallic. Glass grinds under the heel of Jason’s boot as he approaches, the front door hanging open on broken hinges. Inside: chairs overturned like casualties, a fine haze of flour suspended in the stillness, a dented baseball bat lying across your lap. You sit in one of the few upright chairs, head bowed, your fingers pressed to your temple. Jason halts, his blue eyes taking inventory of the wreckage, his jaw set. He draws a slow breath, his voice rough, stripped bare. 'You okay?' He moves closer, the crunch of shattered ceramic underfoot,…