….Please remind me of the dark restaraunt because I seriously can’t remember it happening ._.
Let’s put it in a mini fic form, shall we? And thank you, Udon. We’re really very kawaii in RL. we even have stars and cute pink hearts floating around us. True story.
Pairing: BruceDick (because I can’t seem to explain things without writing a fic about it)
Story stemmed from chyldea’s drawing, which, went in an entirely different direction than I thought it would. Guu. These birdies. I can never get a handle on them.
Pairing: JasonDick
Rating: TWarning: This is no quality fic. Nope. None. Be warned.
Dick Fucking Grayson was one very twisted bastard Jason had ever met this side of the western world. And believe him, he’s met a few nasties in his life before, but Grayson takes the cake.
What sick fuck would handcuff him to dang a pole, and yet, still have the gull to tease him the way he was?
Inspired by jiro220, and in part of a conversation with Udon and domestic stuff. Yep.
Pairing: BruceDick
“Alfred could have helped me, Dick,” Bruce said, smoothing his hair. Dick peeked over his shoulder, smoothing the wrinkles of Bruce’s suit over his shoulders.
“I know, but he’s busy with Damian at the moment, and I -want- to do this,” Dick smiled, stepping back as Bruce turned. He reached out, adjusting his bow-tie. “It’s not often I get to be the one to help you dress.”
“Are you sure it’s wise? You need help yourself when you dress.” Bruce points out, tilting his head up slightly as Dick loosened Bruce’s tie, doing it over again.
“It’s different when I do it for someone else,” Dick replied, fingers swift as he knotted the tie. “There. Handsome as usual,” he smiled, running light fingers against Bruce’s temple. “You’ll have trouble fending off the women.” He teased.
“They’re not the ones I want anyway,” Bruce said, catching Dick’s wrist in his hand, pulling the boy against him.
Dick sighed softly, and he smiled warmly up at Bruce, letting his hand settle against Bruce’s arm, leaning against him comfortably. “Only for a few hours, Bruce. And then you can have me again,” Dick promised, tapping Bruce’s chin lightly.
“But for right now?” Bruce leaned forward.
Dick’s eyes sparkled. “For now? I guess you can have a few minutes before then.”
Inspired by a very yummy drawing by chyldea. Written around March ages ago, and never uploaded because I was still getting used to smut and the writing made me cringe. Actually, it still does, but no point in keeping it locked up in my drafts any longer than it should. (And i know that if I went back to fix it up, I’d delete it point-blank).
So, excuse the badly written smut, and enjoy, for those of you who just love Father Todd and Incubus Dick smut because, well. Smut.
Pairing:JasonDick
Writing warm up. Super short, and badly executed.
Pairing: BruceDick
Count the scars, touch them, kiss them. Worship every marred and damaged skin.
Dick touches every single one of them. Let’s his finger trace the edges of each, his breath a soft, lingering sigh as he leans forward. Letting his lips lightly feel the puckered skin.
Bruce’s body shivers slightly, but he makes no move. He let’s Dick watch and touch him. His own hands are clenched in his own lap. His eyes closed tight.
Dick can feel the tense muscles, and he soothes them out with a kiss at Bruce’s neck, his hands gripping at Bruce’s shoulders. Feeling the muscles loosen beneath his grip, slowly, lightly rubbing the tense spots.
A soft sigh comes from Bruce, and Dick smiles faintly.
what if two different versions of Dick+Bruce were in the same room. what if the two start fighting for attention/datass :>
…..Udon. No. What are you.
Wait. TWO VERSIONS? TWO DICKS!? I MEAN…I…I -uh oh.
Warm up smut writeup. Wasn’t kidding when I said I liked torturing with little snippets of badly(practiced) smut. Yes. Practice. yerp yerp.
Pairing: *GASP* BruceDick!
Summary: There is none. PWP to the extreme.
Every time I listen to “So Far Away” by Crossfade, I have been conditioned to think of sad BruceDick things. I can’t even enjoy this song anymore because of it, so have a super short depressed Dickiebird.
Pairing: BruceDick
Some nights Dick sleeps with the cowl clutched in his hand. It’s not the one he wears, it’s one of Bruce’s. If he closes his eyes and presses the cloak to his nose, he can almost conjure up the old memories. The smell of Gotham all around him, the sweat that soaked itself thoroughly into the costume that no amount of washing could ever wash away, the cold sharp smells of the city that clung to every fiber filled him with nostalgia and longing.
Bruce was dead and gone. Leaving nothing but bones, and wounds that never completely healed, faded memories, a family that wasn’t ready to let him go, and Dick.
Dick clutches the cowl tighter, wrapping it around himself, ignoring the aching wound in his chest every time he drew in breath. Biting his lip to not let the sob crawl up his throat and choke him. He buries himself beneath the cowl, and wishes sleep would come for him sooner.
A direct sequel to Closing Time (that can be read as a standalone). Note: This is more of a project to see if I can handle writing a multific for a while. Ignoring the timeline after issue 7 of Batman and the Court of Owls, I’ve taken the liberty of being a bit more flexible with events, and just for the moment, focusing on character relations. The war will happen, just, not right now. (that and cause it hasn’t happened in the comics yet, lol)
Thanks to Ari and Janet for betaing this for me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the Flying Graysons!”
Dick’s up on top of the platform with his parents, waving down at the cheering crowds. He remembered this, not this specific show, but the adrenaline; the one that comes from pleasing a crowd, with all eyes on him, waiting for a show. Waiting for when he would step off the platform and fly.
The rush of power, of freedom and flight at his fingertips, the smooth easy flow through the air, and the reassuring touch of hands as his parents catch him. He remembers this, he misses this.
Dammit. Ari was making me think about Nightwing/Batman up at the Watchtower b/c of the new YJ stills, and my brain starts ticking (much to my dismay), about Dick. And Bruce. Dick grown up, original dynamic duo no more, Bruce missing Dick but not admitting a word. And…and…All I have to say is my writing feels off, but here’s the dang drabble Ari managed to worm outta me. Somehow.
“Batman,” Dick calls, sounding closer behind him than Bruce had thought.
Bruce suppresses the urge to sigh, especially now-a-days when Dick has gotten more…friendly. Friendlier than Bruce is comfortable with, anyway.
“What is it?” he turns, and doesn’t flinches when he finds Dick right at his side, smiling up at him as he usually does. The boy’s grown up. He’s not the young thirteen year old he once was when he first begged Bruce to form the Young Justice team. He’s a young man now, all features of his childhood gone, but not the drive that makes him who he is. The smile’s still the same, but now, it seems brighter, more warm than usual.
