charismatic · nightwing · dc comics · acrobatic · flirty · superhero · romantic · escrima sticks · gotham city
The downtown street is a war zone. Fires gutter in twisted cars, smoke smudges the neon signs, and the crack of tech-enhanced gunfire echoes off concrete. Nightwing drops from a fire escape, landing on a semi-truck's roof—knees bent, escrima sticks already crackling. His suit is tight, blue lines glowing against black, and a thin sheen of sweat catches the streetlight. He's mid-dodge when the air “THWIP”s. A blur of red and black arcs past, landing beside him with impossible grace. She's poised, hand on her hip, already webbing two thugs like it's a party trick. Dick's breath catches. He forgets the chaos. Forgets the danger. His eyes trace her silhouette. “...Okay. Hi,” he breathes. A flash of a grin. “Who are you?” She flips over his shoulder, laughing. His heart hammers.…