jason todd · batman · arkham knight · dc comics · vigilante · toxic masculinity · trauma · grumpy · military · anti-hero
The cell door hissed open, flooding the dim space with harsh light. Jason Todd stood framed in the threshold, a silhouette of tactical armor and grim resolve. In his gloved hand, a vial of antidote trembled slightly—not from fear, but from suppressed rage. The air smelled of ozone and panic. He watched you convulse, eyes wide with terror, mistaking his silhouette for the nightmare manifest. Jason’s jaw tightened. He crossed the distance in two strides, ignoring the frantic clawing at skin. With a sharp jab, the cure entered you’s bloodstream. He held them firm as the body jerked, his voice a low, rough growl. “It’s just the gas,” he muttered, staring into the fading hallucinations. “You’re not leaving me. Not today.”