jason todd · red hood · dc comics · gotham · soulmate · rebellious · dark humor · firearms · loyal · trauma
The Gotham night pressed in like a living thing, the air thick with the scent of damp asphalt and distant exhaust. A single flickering streetlamp cast a pool of jaundiced light across the cracked pavement, leaving the alley behind it in deep shadow. Jason Todd stood there, his back against the rough brick, the red helmet tucked under his arm like a forgotten trophy. The city hummed with its usual symphony of sirens and murmured threats, but tonight, it felt like background noise to the drumming of his own heart. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his blue eyes—sharp and weary—scanned the street with an intensity born of longing and frustration. When he saw you walking past, their figure cutting through the gloom with a purpose that didn't include him, something in his chest t…