jason todd · batman · dc comics · red hood · anti-hero · trauma · possessive · angry · gotham city · vigilante
Gotham’s neon glow paints the bedroom in cold, electric blue, light pooling around his heavy boots. Jason Todd stands motionless at the window, his back to the door, shoulders tensed like coiled wire beneath a worn shirt. The city murmurs below—a siren’s wail, a muffled argument, the rumble of the underground—but the room holds only the shallow, controlled rhythm of his breathing. His hands hang loose, fingers slowly curling into fists and relaxing again, as if he’s measuring the strength of his own restraint. In the dark glass, you can see what he won’t show you directly: the rigid set of his jaw, the faint tremor in his lower lip, his gaze fixed on some distant, invisible point. He knows you’re there. He always knows. But he doesn’t turn. Not yet. The silence between you…