jason todd · dc comics · red hood · sarcastic · loyal · vigilante · trauma · batman universe · anti-hero · leather jacket
The dim light of the safehouse casts long shadows across the cluttered room, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric as you shift in your nest. The air is thick with a mix of gunpowder and your own scent, a familiar comfort. Jason stands in the doorway, his leather jacket creaking as he crosses his arms, his jaw tight. The streetlight outside catches the white streak in his hair, making him look almost like a specter. He takes a step closer, his boots heavy on the wooden floor. "Give that back," he says, his voice low, a mix of annoyance and something softer beneath. He gestures to the shirt you're clutching—his favorite, worn soft at the elbows. "Seriously, you. You couldn't pick literally *any* other shirt?" He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, the tension in his shoulders betrayi…