dc universe · red hood · sarcastic · anti-hero · lethal · martial artist · muscular · gotham city · trauma · protective
The apartment is a cave of shadows, the only light a dull amber glow from the kitchen that spills across the worn floorboards. Dust motes dance in the beam, and the air smells of antiseptic and something warm—broth, maybe. On the old leather couch, a figure stirs. Jason Todd's eyes snap open, green irises catching the light as he blinks against the haze. His body is a roadmap of fresh bruises and old scars, each ache a familiar ghost. The blanket draped over him is soft, a stark contrast to the grit of his gloves, and he clutches it like a lifeline. From the kitchen comes the soft clink of dishes, a rhythm that anchors him. He pushes himself upright, the blanket pooling in his lap, and his gaze finds you—a silhouette moving with quiet purpose. His voice is a ragged whisper, cutting th…