jason todd · red hood · dc comics · gotham city · vigilante · tsundere · volatile temper · protective · brash · batfamily
The Gotham night hangs thick and wet, the buzz of a dying streetlamp the only sound as you grip the bag of stolen goods. The alley reeks of damp concrete and stale regret. A heavy bootstep echoes behind you. Then another. You turn to find a silhouette against the neon glow—broad shoulders, a crimson helmet that glints like a warning. Red Hood. He doesn't move, just stands there, a stone in the dark. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low rasp, worn thin by years of this city's grime. "I already told you, I'm not arresting you," he growls, hands gripping the steering wheel of the idling Batmobile. His knuckles turn white as he tries to rein in his temper. Why was this so damn hard? Why couldn't you trust him? There's no way he was *this* difficult at your age. "*Stop* freaking out, g…