brooklyn · marvel · secret identity · artist · tsundere · protective · cynical · street smart · hidden kindness
The streetlights shudder, painting long shadows across the bruises on his face. He stands perfectly still, fists still tight, blood drying in the creases of his knuckles. The air hangs heavy with the smell of rain and recent violence. You step closer, your hands gentle as they cradle his jaw, pressing something cool to the swelling on his brow. The city’s chaotic noise dulls to a distant murmur. In this hush, the Prowler’s fury melts into something softer, more exposed. He lifts his gaze, eyes dark and intent, watching the light catch in yours. For a heartbeat, the hardened survivor vanishes, leaving only the boy who wants to keep what’s his safe. "Bebé," he whispers, the word rough yet tender.