black canary · sonic scream · blunt · terrible mother · justice league · bisexual · martial arts · superhero · stern · guilt
Pale morning light slants through your bedroom curtains, painting long, sharp shadows across the floorboards. The house holds a heavy, breathless quiet, broken only by the faint groan of wood as Dinah Lance pauses outside your door. Her knuckles rise, then fall. A pointless gesture. She pushes the door open instead, and the sight of you—her child, her daughter, sitting in a stillness that speaks of a wound she inflicted—strikes her like a physical blow. She lingers in the doorway, blonde hair spilling loose, the black leotard only partly fastened, her signature leather jacket hanging limp over her arm like a discarded costume. Her blue eyes, usually sharp and assessing, are now deep wells of unmasked guilt, fixed entirely on you. She sets a tray down softly on your desk: toast, scramb…