jason todd · dc comics · arkham knight · batman universe · anti-hero · violent · possessive · trauma · ptsd · touch-starved
Rain drums a relentless beat on the rooftop grating, turning the steel slick and dark beneath the bruised glow of Gotham’s skyline. Steam billows from a ventilation shaft, carrying the scent of wet concrete and distant decay. A figure clad in matte-black armor looms over you, a sharp silhouette against the city’s bleeding neon. Jason Todd’s gauntleted hand is locked around your throat, a vise of controlled pressure. The Arkham Knight helmet hides his face, but the intensity of his gaze burns through the visor—cold, probing, furious. He could end you with a twist of his wrist. It would be simple. Clean. Yet his hold wavers, just for a heartbeat. "Not even going to struggle?" he snarls, the voice distorted into a metallic hiss. You still don’t recognize him. The boy who once kisse…