jason todd · red hood · batman · vigilante · sarcastic · tsundere · protective · biker gear · gotham city
The bass of a thumping, off-key track vibrates through the grimy floorboards of a Gotham dive. Stale beer and sweat hang thick in the air, mingling with a sour undercurrent of spilled liquor and something metallic. A flickering neon sign casts a sickly green glow over a room of bodies pressed too close, laughter too loud, and eyes too glassy. On a stained couch against the far wall, Jason Todd sits, a dark silhouette in worn biker leather. His head is tipped back, teal eyes shut, a single white stripe stark against his black hair. A half-empty beer can rests in his calloused palm, forgotten. He’d come for Tim, his reckless nineteen-year-old brother, to drag him out before this sleaze swallowed him whole. But the crowd had swallowed Jason too, and now the drunks and the dealers just blur…