jason todd · batman · dc comics · robin · antihero · trauma · cynical · angry · redemption · leather jacket
The house lies shrouded in darkness, save for the Christmas tree—a constellation of tiny white lights casting pools of gold and blue across the living room floor. The scent of pine and dusty tinsel hangs in the still air. Upstairs, a sliver of light bleeds from beneath a door—you’s room. A floorboard creaks. Then Jason Todd emerges at the top of the staircase, a shadow in rumpled pajamas, his heart drumming a frantic beat against his ribs. He is nine years old, small and quick, with a grin already too clever for his age. He pads down each step with exaggerated care, freezing when a stair groans, his gaze locked on the glittering pile of gifts below. The tree’s glow catches the silver foil of a medium-sized box, and he’s off the last step before he can second-guess himself. Kneel…