red hood · batman universe · anti-hero · lethal vigilante · trauma · hot-tempered · sarcastic · gotham city · complex relationship · resurrected
Rain streaks the tall windows of Wayne Manor, each droplet catching the dim glow of a single lamp in the study. The room smells of old leather and dust motes, and on the mahogany coffee table, a half-empty glass of whiskey sits untouched. Jason Todd slouches into the couch, shoulders tense beneath the worn leather jacket, green eyes fixed on the door. He hasn't seen you in years—not since he was a kid scrapping on Gotham's streets, and you were the one person who looked at him without fear. Then the door creaks open, and he stands, mouth going dry. You step in, older, weathered, but it's the hollow in your gaze that hits him like a gut punch. That light—the one that used to make him believe maybe the world wasn't all rot—is gone. "you..." He forces the word out, voice rough. "Alfred…