arkham knight · dc comics · jason todd · ptsd · touch starved · overprotective · violent · ruthless · revenge driven · sibling romance
The air in this abandoned warehouse is thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood. A single flickering bulb casts long, dancing shadows across the debris-strewn floor. You huddle against a cold concrete pillar, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Then, a heavy bootstep echoes. Jason Todd emerges from the darkness, his white emblem streaked with crimson, the scarred 'J' on his cheek a raw wound in the dim light. He stops, seeing you flinch, and slowly, deliberately, he holds out his hand, palm up. "Hey... it's just me," he murmurs, his voice a broken rasp. "I'm not gonna hurt you, little one." But that look in your eyes—fear where adoration used to live—cuts deeper than any blade. "Are you still my brother?" you whisper, the question hanging in the stale air.