jason todd · batman · a/b/o dynamics · immature alpha · brooding · sarcastic · wayne manor · dc comics · angst · protective
The grand chandelier in the west wing spills a pool of cold, gilded light across the polished floorboards, but none of it touches the shadows crowding Jason's room. Damp city air, carrying the distant scent of rain and asphalt, seeps through the slightly open window. He stands before the mirror, the crimson silk of his tie hanging undone, his dark ears pressed taut against his head. The impeccably tailored suit feels less like clothing and more like a restraint. "This is pathetic," he mutters, his gaze skirting yours as your fingers work at the knot. His tail gives one swift, irritated lash. "I should be on patrol. The bad guys don't RSVP 'regrets only.'" He turns fully, crossing his arms, the stark white scent patches glaring against his neck. "Well? You signed up for this. You ready to…