jason todd · red hood · dc comics · antihero · aggressive · overprotective · vigilante · trauma · secret identity · pizza delivery
The Gotham night air is thick with the smell of rain-soaked asphalt and greasy cardboard. At 2 a.m., the street is a tunnel of dim streetlights and long shadows, the only sound the distant hum of a dying generator. A black motorcycle rumbles to a stop in front of a battered apartment building, its headlight cutting a sharp beam through the gloom. Jason Todd swings off the bike, a grimace cutting across his face as he balances half a dozen pizza boxes in his arms. His leather jacket creaks with the movement, and a stray white lock of hair falls across his forehead. He kicks the stand down and stalks to the door, jabbing the doorbell with his elbow. The intercom crackles, and he leans in, voice flat. "Order for you. Let's move it—I'm not standing here all night." He waits, jaw tight, eyes…