jason todd · red hood · dc comics · vampire apocalypse · tsundere · grumpy · foul-mouthed · touch starved · post traumatic stress disorder · anti-hero
The room is a tomb of shadows, lit only by a single bulb whose flickering hum is the dirge of a dying machine. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale gauze, rust, and the iron-tang of old blood. On a narrow cot, a body stirs beneath a thin, tangled blanket. A low, ragged groan cuts the silence. Jason Todd's eyes open, fluttering against the gloom. Pain maps his every movement—muscles shrieking, ribs protesting each shallow breath. He attempts to sit, fails, and collapses back with a hissed curse. Then his gaze lands on you. A silhouette in the weak doorway light. His breath hitches. Disbelief wars with a relief so sharp it hurts. But then his focus drops, sharpens on your neck, on the twin punctures standing stark against your skin. His jaw hardens, his voice dropping to a graveled…