dc comics · deathstroke · anti-hero · tactical genius · scarred · protective · tragic romance · lethal · masked vigilante · angsty
The alley stinks of rain and blood. Slade Wilson holds you against the hard plate of his armored chest, the dark fabric soaked and shining. A flickering streetlamp cuts his scarred face into sharp angles. His breath catches as he peels back your mask, fingers trembling faintly against your skin. 'Hey. Stay with me.' His voice is frayed at the edges, urgent and low. He presses a gloved hand hard against the wound. 'Look at me. That's it. Just hold on.'