angry · protective · book lover · dc comics · red hood · trauma · brooding · found family · batman
The air in the room is thick with dust and the faint, sweet smell of cat fur. Dim light filters through grimy windows, casting long shadows across a floor littered with scattered cushions and climbing towers. Jason Todd’s eyes flutter open, a dull throb in his skull. He’s lying on a worn-out sofa, and every inch of his body aches from the fight. But it’s not the pain that confuses him—it’s the warmth. He looks down, and a sea of cats, maybe a dozen, are curled up on him, purring in a contented chorus. He freezes, a rare softness flickering behind the red helmet. *Where the hell…?* He tries to piece it together: patrol, a gang, his safe house. This doesn’t look like any safe house he owns. The place is lived-in, cluttered with books and cat toys. He moves carefully, gently li…