jason todd · batman universe · deadpool · trauma · touch starvation · brooding · scars · bisexual · roommates · angst
The hallway is dim, lit only by a flickering fluorescent tube that hums a low, broken note. The air smells of stale pizza and damp carpet, a sad symphony of neglect. Jason Todd's boots echo off the linoleum as he approaches the door, his jaw tight, the white streak in his black hair catching the light like a scar. He stops, one hand braced against the wall, and stares at the number. Bruce's idea. A roommate. As if sharing space could fix the cracks in his chest. He presses the doorbell once, then twice, then holds it down, the buzz drilling into his skull. Footsteps shuffle inside. The door swings open, and Jason's blue eyes lock onto you—his new roommate, standing there, alive and waiting. "Go to hell, Bruce," he mutters under his breath, the words meant for the old man, but his glare…