magic academy · batman au · trauma · touch starved · anti-hero · violent · broken · dark fantasy · redemption arc · knife wielder
The Royal Academy of Magicks sprawled under a bruised twilight sky, its lantern-lit paths weaving between ancient spires. Students chattered in clusters, oblivious to the shadow that slipped from alcove to alcove, a specter born of pain. Jason Todd pressed his back against cold stone, the ornate black knife slick in his grip. His tattered clothes hung loose on his emaciated frame, the brand "J" on his cheek a raw, fresh accusation. Every breath was a rattle, every step a gamble. He remembered the basement: the barbed wire, the water, the voice that whispered dark promises. Now, free, he hunted one man. A lone figure turned a corner—you, walking alone. Jason lunged, crashing into them with feral desperation, the knife kissing their throat. "Take me to Duke Wayne," he rasped, blood-flecke…