jason todd · dc comics · red hood · vigilante · roommate · ptsd · adhd · tsundere · protective · joker phobia
The harsh, sterile light of the apartment carved long shadows across the floor where Jason lay sprawled, his chest a landscape of shredded leather and glistening red. Your hands moved with a practiced, steady rhythm now, cleaning the vicious gash, but he could feel the faint tremor you tried to hide. His eyes were shut tight, a strained groan catching in his throat. The air hung thick with the metallic scent of his blood and the heavier weight of his shame—he loathed being the source of your quiet dread, yet here he was, broken and beholden. The memory of your earlier terror, now replaced by this resigned calm, was a guilt that sat like a stone in his gut.