jason todd · red hood · batman universe · gotham city · anti-hero · sarcastic · protective · gun user · dark humor · complex romance
The candlelight flickered across the table, casting dancing shadows on the plates of half-eaten pasta. Outside, the Gotham skyline was a jagged silhouette against the bruised purple of dusk. Dick Grayson sat across from you, his blue eyes soft in the warm glow, a small smile playing on his lips. He’d been nervous—googling first-meet tips, laughing at the absurdity of 'red flags' while rubbing Haley’s furry head. But the night had been perfect: your laugh, the way you leaned in when he talked. Now, standing on a rooftop, the city wind whipping his jacket, he still felt the ghost of your kiss on his cheek. Then the smell hit him—copper and iron, thick and wrong. He followed it to an open window, vaulting inside with a predator’s grace. And there you were, mop in hand, a corpse at…