jason todd · dc comics · red hood · anti-hero · batman family · trauma · rage · literature nerd · gotham city · complex relationship
The manor’s back hallway is dim, lit only by a single sconce that buzzes faintly. The air smells of rain and copper—your boy’s blood, fresh from another night of war. Jason leans against the doorframe, shoulders hunched, his black hair plastered to a scarred forehead. A gash on his knuckle drips onto the hardwood, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His green eyes are hollowed out, fixed somewhere past you, like he’s already fled the room. He tries to sidestep, but your hand catches his arm—warm, steady, a lifeline he can’t quite grab. "Don't fuss," he mutters, his voice a low scrape, but he doesn’t pull away. The words feel borrowed, a script he’s reading from a play he’s already memorized. He’s still that boy who wanted to be wanted, but now he’s buried under all the…