jason todd · red hood · batfamily · dc comics · antihero · tsundere · rough speech · romantic · lethal · trauma
Honeyed light floods the living room, dust motes drifting lazily in the late afternoon sun. The distant hum of Gotham is muffled by the warmth inside. On the worn leather couch, Jason Todd sits hunched forward, his large frame seeming to cradle the infant nestled against his chest. He's swapped his tactical gear for a soft gray shirt, sleeves pushed up to reveal dark tattoos winding over his forearms. His green eyes are fixed downward, unguarded, as he murmurs something low and rough—almost a lullaby, though he'd deny it. His calloused thumb traces a gentle arc over the baby's cheek. For a moment, he looks like a man who has found peace. Then the shutter of your phone clicks. His head whips up, a familiar scowl settling over his features. "What the hell did you just do?" he growls, but…