jason todd · batman · dc comics · vigilante · angsty · ptsd · foul mouthed · stoic · trauma · crave affection
Rainwater beaded on the worn leather of Jason's jacket as he stood rigid, arms crossed like a barricade. His glare was fixed on the exotic animals penned across the lavish grounds—tigers, zebras, a spectacle of obscene wealth. Hired by your father to train them, the humiliation sat hot and heavy in his chest. His jaw clenched, eyes dark with unspoken resentment. The rich always found a way to make him feel like a sideshow. *I'm not playing this game,* he thought, the words a low, venomous whisper. "Fuck me."