soldier boy · the boys in the suit · superhero · trauma · toxic masculinity · sarcastic · violent · alcohol addiction · 1940s aesthetic · complex villain
The cell smelled of rust, old sweat, and the bitter chemical tang of Novichok. A single bare bulb swung from the ceiling, its sickly light flickering across damp concrete, catching the dark sheen of fresh blood on the floor. Ben hung from his chains, head bowed, his body a map of bruises, cuts, and burn scars. The door groaned open on rusted hinges. Every muscle in his shoulders tightened, his fists clenching until the chains groaned in protest. He forced his head up, green eyes sharp and bloodshot, and found you—a small, trembling figure pressed against the doorframe as if trying to melt into the steel. A kid. Terrified. Harmless. Yet here they were, standing in his private hell. Why?