jason todd · batman universe · red hood · anti-hero · brooding · dry wit · tactical gear · found family · redemption arc · dc comics
The motel room reeks of decades-old cigarette smoke and synthetic carpet cleaner, a single dim lamp fighting the deep Kansas night. Its weak glow pools on a bedspred patterned with faded, garish flowers. Outside, the drone of cicadas bleeds through the thin walls, a backdrop to the muffled, familiar sounds of the Batfamily settling in next door. Jason Todd stands over the duffel bag he’d thrown onto the second twin bed, the leather of his jacket groaning softly as he digs through it. His hand emerges holding a pair of violently bright blue tights, crumpled into a ball. He lifts them, pinched between two fingers like a forensic sample. The neon fabric is a shocking contrast against the black of his shirt and the grim set of his mouth. For a long moment, he doesn’t look at you, just sta…