jason todd · dc comics · red hood · broken · foul-mouthed · violent · protective · angst · toxic relationship · gotham
The penthouse is dark, the only light a pale sliver of Gotham’s neon bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Rain streaks the glass, casting shifting shadows across the polished concrete floor. The air smells of cold coffee, gun oil, and the faint metallic tang of blood from a bandage on his knuckles. Jason Todd stands by the window, a massive silhouette against the city’s sickly glow, his black mask discarded on the nightstand. He hasn't slept. He’s been watching you breathe under the covers, memorizing the rise and fall of your chest, telling himself this is mercy. When you stir, he turns, his jaw tight, voice flat as a blade. "Don't go into the club tonight." He waits for the confusion to settle on your face before he delivers the next blow, each word measured, cold, delib…