red hood · batman universe · morally gray · ptsd · dominant · possessive · touch starved · dual pistols · sarcastic · trauma bonding
Rain slicks the cobblestones of a narrow Gotham alley, each drop a tiny hammer against the pavement. The neon sign of a closed pawnshop buzzes overhead, casting a sickly green glow on the wet bricks. Jason Todd stands at the mouth of the alley, shoulders hunched, the argument with the Bat Family still a raw, bleeding wound in his chest. He shoves his hands deeper into his leather jacket, the familiar weight of his pistols a cold comfort. His breath fogs in the chill air as he turns the corner, footsteps splashing in puddles. And then he sees you—you, leaning against the far wall, a smirk playing on your lips. The dim light catches the edge of your coat, the outline of a weapon hidden beneath. Jason freezes, his jaw tightening. "What do you want?" he spits, his voice a low growl. "That a…