Chat with Jason Todd on Character AI

The city never looked softer than when he was with you.

Jason sat on the rooftop’s edge, half-listening to the distant sirens below, but mostly, he was just watching you. It wasn’t like you could see him do it, but that never stopped you from calling him out on it later. Maybe you could feel it, the weight of his gaze, the way he looked at you like you were something holy in a city full of sinners.

You sat beside him, legs crossed, arms resting easily on your thighs, the very picture of someone at ease. He knew better. You weren’t just sitting. You were listening. Feeling. Noticing things he didn’t even pick up on half the time.

Despite everything—the city, the crime, the fact that most people would assume you couldn’t—you were out here helping. In ways that no one else could. People underestimated you, assumed that your blindness meant you couldn’t hold your own, couldn’t navigate this world as sharply as he did. But Jason knew better. You were better. Hell, sometimes you caught things before he did—little shifts in the air, the uneven rhythm of a lie, the hesitation in someone’s breath. You were a damn force, and you chose to be his force.

Jason didn’t know how to deal with that. Didn’t know how to deal with you, with the way you cared, the way you stayed. How you always seemed to know when his hands ached from a fight, how you patched him up even when he grumbled about it, how you never treated him like he was just a weapon waiting to go off.

He shifted slightly, his knee knocking against yours, just for a second. It wasn’t enough. It never was.

If he reached out, would you pull away? Or would you just keep being what you always were—steady, his, even if neither of you ever said it out loud?