This little ficlet is inspired by the @jason-flashfic prompt "History," starring my OC, Erin, and Jason. One day I'll actually go into depth about Erin lmao. But that day is not today.
OC x Canon, Pre-relationship, 474 words.
"We have history, right?"
The question arose one night as Jason and Erin lazed around on the couch in Erin's cheap apartment, fiddling with chopsticks and shoveling takeout into their mouths. Erin looked over at Jason oddly, squinting at him for a second before swallowing the food and putting the take-out box to the side.
"Uh— yeah, sure we do. Why?" they asked, a bit confused.
Jason shrugged his shoulders, and replied, "I mean— we've known each other half our lives. Met before either of us were…" he gestured between them haphazardly, "this."
Erin blinked, following his gesture and furrowing their brow. "I mean, yeah. But—"
"Why did you stay?" He asked suddenly, eyes fixed on the take-out in his hands. "I mean, after I came back. We have completely different ideas about… everything, now. So why did you stay?"
The question hit Erin like a ton of bricks. Why did they stay? Why wouldn't they? But that answer seemed too simple, even in their head. He was right. Erin vehemently disagreed with Jason's form of justice, yet was okay enough with it to stick by his side, even after they tried to kill each other one rainy night, awful night.
So they didn't answer just yet. Jason's fingers twitched on the chopsticks in the silence, clearly anxious about the response, yet unable to look Erin in the face. The question wasn't really like Jason, either. He wasn't exactly forthright about his emotions in casual conversation, no matter how explosively he expressed them.
Erin hummed, leaning back against the couch and crossing their arms as they figured out how to word their answer.
"Because… you're still my best friend. God, that makes me sound like I'm twelve— I mean, because—because, no matter what you've done, no matter what we disagree on, no matter what we've done to each other, you're still somebody who… who…"
Erin trailed off, face down, and Jason blurted, "Who what?" Like the answer was more important than he was letting on. He asked it as though the answer would make or break… something. The something that their relationship turned into. Quiet moments. Stolen glances. Brief brushes of hands, and quiet laughter late at night. Knowing each other's moves before they made it. Something unspoken, that had bloomed into a sort of relationship that meant the other could come to them in their darkest, most vulnerable moments— even if they didn't always want to.
"Who I care about, I guess."
That answer didn't seem to satisfy Jason at all, and, truth be told, it didn't satisfy Erin, either. He just huffed and turned back to his food, stuffing his face full of lo mein.
Someone who I need. That was the answer. But that felt too honest, too real. So Erin just picked up their food and their chopsticks and started eating again.
Going through the Nightwing and Huntress miniseries and there’s actually this really interesting exchange between Dick and Barbara as they’re discussing a case.
Dick just had a fling with Helena, and there’s this implication — or maybe more of an acknowledgement — that Dick’s compulsion towards these sorts of short explosive romantic relationships is founded on a mixture of obligation and need for human interaction rather than any sort of sexual desire.
This, alongside context from the lead up to the fling, make it feel like Dick is simply desperate for any form of human comfort and believes the only way he can get it is through his attractiveness. He doesn’t even seem into the sex. He just can’t find another way to keep anyone from leaving him.
Combine that with the “every time someone’s even nice to you… this pathological need to-“ bit, which suggests Dick feels pressured to give sex as a form of paying people for emotional availability, and this makes me feel all sorts of uncomfortable.
I unironically think man just wants a hug, but at this point in his pre-crisis run, there isn’t a single person in his life who is willing to provide that emotional vulnerability on a consistent basis without a sexual trade-off.
Good day, fans of Nightwing and Starfire!!! With the ship name of DickKory. 💙💜
We're happy to invite you to DickKory Week 2026, a 7-day celebration dedicated to Nightwing and Starfire!
It will start on May 11 and end on May 17.
Come join us in sharing your fan creations and celebrating this iconic pairing!
RULES/FACTS
What can I post/submit?
Artworks, Edits, Fanfiction, or any other fan-made work dedicated to Nightwing and Starfire!
Which versions of the two characters are allowed?
Any version is welcome! Comics, Animation, Live-action, or even your own version will be accepted!
Do we need to base our work on the prompt?
Yes, but if you don't feel like following the prompt but still want to submit something for Nightwing and Starfire, we will still accept your submission! All creations dedicated to them are welcome!
How should I tag my posts?
Please tag your submissions with #dickkoryweek or #dickkoryweek2026 so we can find and reblog your creations.
Can I post NSFW content?
Yes! NSFW submissions are welcome, but please make sure they are marked as nsfw.
Do you accept late entries?
Absolutely! Late submissions are always welcome, every DickKory fan work is accepted, no matter the timing.
We can't wait to see all your amazing creations! Mark your calendars, get creative and see you guys soon!!!!
Can I say a hot take? That many people won't like?
Sometimes I prefer fanon people to comic-reading people. Not because they don't annoy me, but because at least they're not like "Well if you didn't read this issue from this comic series in 1984 then you're a fake fan and know nothing" and man that shit is just TIRING. It's not fun anymore! Reading comics is supposed to be fun, and I read whatever the hell I feel like reading. At the very least, fanon people rarely shit on things you like, or police what you like, or fight over "who knows the most about this character" because, honestly, who actually cares?
So this is not my usual vibe. Twas a lighting study that I let get a bit outta hand. Into my other hand. That will only practice if it is my little, sad, feral men. That is, I'm afraid, my dominant hand.
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