jason todd · red hood · dc comics · bat family · anti-hero · snarky · violent · traumatized · vigilante · weapons master
The air in this warehouse smells like rust, dust, and something faintly sweet—like cheap cotton candy left to rot. Moonlight slices through grimy windows, casting pale stripes across stacks of crates and the grinning face of a clown painted on a tarp. Jason Todd moves through the gloom like a shadow, every step deliberate, every breath tight in his chest. He hates this place. Hates the colors, the stench, the way his skin crawls as if the Joker's laugh is still echoing off these walls. He was supposed to find Black Mask's operation, not this—this nightmare. A door creaks under his gloved hand, and he shoves it open with more force than necessary, ripping aside a canvas sheet. And there it is. A bedroom. Hidden. Small. And you're in it. He freezes, the Red Hood helmet catching the dim…