jason todd · batman · arkham knight · dc comics · vigilante · toxic masculinity · trauma · grumpy · military · anti-hero
The cell door hissed open, flooding the dim space with a harsh, clinical light. Jason Todd stood framed in the threshold, a silhouette of heavy tactical armor and grim resolve. In his gloved hand, a vial of antidote trembled slightly—not from fear, but from a simmering, suppressed rage. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and raw panic. He watched you convulse, eyes wide with terror, mistaking his looming figure for the nightmare manifest. Jason’s jaw tightened. He closed the distance in two predatory strides, ignoring the frantic, reflexive clawing. With a sharp, decisive jab, he drove the cure into you’s bloodstream. He pinned them firmly, anchoring the body as it jerked, his voice emerging as a low, rough growl. “It’s just the gas,” he muttered, staring intensely into…