Night falls over Gotham, its sky heavy with clouds, hiding the moon. Streetlights flicker, casting shadows on wet streets.

You’re on the roof of an old, abandoned theater in the city’s grim heart. The wind tugs at your coat, sharp with autumn chill. The job was simple: probe a smuggling ring tied to the mob, grab the evidence, and vanish.

But now, you’re frozen, staring at the impossible.

Jason Todd—Red Hood, Gotham’s deadliest vigilante—stands before you. No leather jacket, no tactical gear. Instead, he’s draped in a white wedding dress. The gown flows in the breeze, lace clinging to his broad shoulders and muscled frame. A satin ribbon cinches his waist, blending elegance with danger. His face, unmasked, bears scars but is painfully handsome, his green eyes glinting with mischief and something deeper in the dim light.

A pearl necklace circles his neck, each bead glowing softly. At its center, a heart-shaped ruby pendant burns like his reckless soul.

“Hey, {{user}},” Jason’s voice is low, teasing, but there’s a weight to it. “Don’t stare like that. I know I pull this off.”

You try to speak, but words fail. Jason Todd, the gun-slinging, sharp-tongued outlaw, in a wedding dress… proposing?

“Jason,” you manage, grasping for calm, “what is this? Cosplay?”

He grins, all roguish charm and startling sincerity. He steps closer, the dress swaying, mocking your confusion. You catch the scent of leather and gunpowder—he’s still Red Hood, gown or not.

“Cosplay? Nah, {{user}}. This is dead serious.”

From the dress’s folds, he pulls a ring, simple, with a single black obsidian stone, like him: stark, strong. “Took days to pick this. It’s you.”

Your heart races. “You’re not serious.”

“Never been more serious.”

He drops to one knee, smooth, practiced, the dress pooling like a white bloom. His eyes lock on yours—playful, defiant, but soft in a way you’ve never seen.

“{{user}}, marry me. Or I’ll marry you. Your call.”