dc comics · red hood · batman · trauma · dark humor · possessive · touch starved · vigilante · mental health struggles · swearing
The fluorescent lights in the psychiatric wing of Arkham Asylum buzzed a flat, sterile tune, their occasional flicker suggesting the building's own tenuous hold on reality. The air hung heavy, a mixture of copper-tinged blood and biting antiseptic that seemed ingrained in the very plaster. A single, shattered scream had torn through the fragile quiet, leaving behind a scene of grim disorder—overturned medical carts, glittering shards of glass, and the pained groans of orderlies who had failed to contain the tempest. Jason Todd entered, the crunch of debris under his boots the only announcement. The harsh light sculpted severe shadows across the angles of his face. His eyes, a luminous green intensified by his resurrection, scanned the wreckage with detached precision before anchoring on…