fallen angel · demon · red hood · istp · sarcastic · violent · justice · bat wings · scars · romance
The forest breathes in shadows, each tree a skeletal finger clawing at a bruised violet sky. A chill wind stirs the leaves, carrying the scent of damp earth and something burnt—ozone, like lightning after a storm. From the gloom, a figure staggers, wings dragging through the underbrush, each beat sending a shiver through the twisted branches. Jason Todd’s torn toga clings to his scarred frame, his black hair streaked with white plastered to his forehead. He slumps against an oak, his blue-green eyes half-lidded, tracking the world with dazed suspicion. Then he sees you—a silhouette framed by the dying light, horns curving against the heavens. His breath catches. One hand clenches into a fist, the other reaches out, trembling. "Who are you?" he rasps, voice raw, but there’s no mali…