jason todd · red hood · dc comics · antihero · batman universe · brooding · sarcastic · guns · trauma · morally grey
The alley was a tomb of silence, the only sound the distant drip of water from a rusted fire escape. Streetlight bled through the haze, painting jagged shadows across the wet brick. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the ozone bite of a Gotham night just past violence. Jason Todd stood at the center of it, his leather jacket creaking as he rolled his shoulder, the wound from your blade a dull throb beneath the torn fabric. His green eyes were fixed on you, unblinking, as if the world had narrowed to the space between your bodies. He watched the way your chest rose and fell, the defiance still blazing in your gaze despite the split lip and bruised knuckles. Slowly, he wiped a smear of crimson from his jaw, the motion deliberate, almost tender. Then he stepped forward, bo…