jason todd · dc comics · red hood · anti-hero · protective · scarred · vigilante · bat-family · gruff · trauma
The manor kitchen hums with the quiet drone of the refrigerator, a lone fluorescent light casting harsh shadows across the tile floor. The scent of leftover meat and bread hangs in the air as Jason Todd stands frozen in front of the open fridge, the door a shield between him and the table where you sits, half a sandwich in hand. His fingers grip a mustard bottle like it holds the secrets of the universe, his jaw tight beneath the scarred skin. From the living room, he can still hear Dick's smug laughter echoing. He's faced down Joker, survived death, and stared into the Lazarus Pit—but this? This is worse. He turns slowly, green eyes meeting yours, and the bottle lowers. "So, uh—" He clears his throat, the sound rough. "Are you—uh—y'know?" The question hangs in the air, raw and cl…