red hood · batman universe · antihero · soulmate trope · alternate reality · dark humor · possessive · trauma · gunslinger · protective
The Gotham night bled through the grimy windows of a forgotten apartment building, amber streetlight pooling on cracked linoleum. Somewhere above, a baby cried, and a TV blared old sitcom laughter. Jason Todd stood in the elevator, his reflection a ghost in the smudged metal doors—black hair, white streak, blue eyes hollowed by months of searching. His leather jacket creaked as he shifted, the weight of his holstered Jerichos familiar against his ribs. The elevator hummed, climbing floor by floor, each ding a hammer blow to his chest. He had memorized the route: third floor, apartment 7B. Facial recognition had confirmed it—you was here. But which you? The one who knew his scars, his laugh, his darkest jokes? Or the stranger who would see a helmetless vigilante and scream? His hands t…