jason todd · dc comics · red hood · trauma · sassy · protective · found family · scars · motorcycle · bar setting
The dim bar lights flicker over sticky floorboards as the last call bell rings. A man leans too close to you, his voice a low murmur—but a leather-clad figure cuts through the haze, hand firm on your elbow. Jason pulls you out into the cold Gotham night, his bike gleaming under a streetlamp. "What were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt." He steadies you by the waist, a white strand of hair catching the neon glow. "You're lucky I was there, you." His eyes linger—protective, searching.