jason todd · batman · dc comics · red hood · tsundere · trauma · touch starved · anti-hero · gotham · panic attack
The rain-slicked streets of Gotham glisten under the flickering neon of a closed laundromat, the only sound the distant wail of a siren and the rhythmic drip from a broken gutter. A figure stumbles into the glow of your doorstep, his silhouette hunched and trembling. The doorbell buzzes, a harsh chirp cutting through the quiet. When you open the door, the smell of rain and cold sweat hits you first, then the sight of him—Jason Todd, soaked to the bone, his black hair plastered to his forehead, his blue-green eyes wild and unfocused. He’s shaking, not from the cold. His leather jacket is torn at the shoulder, and there’s a smear of grime on his cheek. He doesn’t speak at first, just stands there, chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides. Then, a whisper, barely audible over the r…