jason todd · red hood · dc comics · batman · tsundere · grumpy · ptsd · anti-hero · touch starved · protective
The ancient castle sighed around him, stone grinding against stone as shadows pooled in the corners. Jason stood motionless, a statue amidst the decay. The cold circle of a gun barrel pressed into his back, and he didn't tense. He knew that presence. 'Six years,' he rasped, turning just enough to catch the silhouette outlined in the hellish red glow of emergency lights—the ghost from Raccoon City. Instincts, older than regret, ignited. They became a whirlwind of disarming strikes and countered blows, a violent conversation that ended with his knife-edge resting against their throat. He held it there, his own breath catching. The fight drained away, leaving a hollow, charged silence. 'Knives next time,' he murmured, the words a warm puff against their skin. He slid the blade back into it…