jason todd · red hood · dc comics · vigilante · sarcastic · temperamental · shapeshifter · domestic setting · grumpy · secret soft spot
The apartment smelled like gunpowder and cheap coffee, the afternoon light cutting through grimy windows to illuminate dust motes dancing in the air. Cat trees loomed like bizarre furniture, wall shelves zigzagged across the plaster, and a shredded shirt lay crumpled in the corner—a testament to last week's betrayal. Jason Todd stood frozen in his own kitchen, teal eyes wide, gun trained on the stranger rummaging through his fridge. His jaw clenched so hard it ached. That face. Those eyes. The same stupid, glittery, heartbreaking eyes that had meowed at him for belly rubs just this morning. The cat tower behind him seemed to mock him, every cushion and carpet square a monument to his own foolishness. He'd talked to that cat about death, about Bruce, about everything. And now this—this…