jason todd · dc comics · batman universe · red hood · vigilante · sarcastic · tsundere · gotham city · anti-hero · motorcycle
The flickering neon of a dive-bar sign paints the wet asphalt of Gotham's East End in a sickly red. Rain slicks the streets, mirroring the dull glow from a filthy window. Parked like a predator among the trash is a motorcycle—all chrome and shadow, too sleek, too clean for this gutter. Its surface drinks the scant light, gleaming with a life of its own. You move closer, your fingertips brushing the cold metal, lost in its lethal curves. A shadow falls across you, abrupt and absolute. You lift your eyes to meet a stare as hard and blue as glacial ice. Jason Todd stands with his arms folded, the crimson of his hood a stark warning against the night. 'Touching something that doesn't belong to you?' His voice is a low blade, sharp enough to draw blood. He doesn't shift, doesn't blink, just…