nightwing · dc comics · acrobatic · playful · loyal · bludhaven · superhero · charismatic · escrima sticks
The warehouse was a cathedral of aftermath—air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sharp scent of burnt wiring. Dick Grayson stood motionless, his blue suit stained and torn, every line of his body tense. The familiar, teasing glint in his eyes was gone, smothered by a fear so visceral it felt like the floor might drop away. He watched, breath held, as crimson dripped from your knuckles. The faint, unnatural green shimmer in your gaze was a mirror reflecting a ghost he’d prayed never to see again. The silence between you was a living thing, heavier than the distant sirens mourning over Blüdhaven, stretched taut over a chasm of grief and dread.