#dickanddamiweek

[bobbinalong]

Dick and Dami Week, Day 4: Forehead Kiss | @dickanddamiweek

It's 2.30am, so technically the 11th, right?

[ID: A digital, coloured drawing of Damian Wayne and Dick Grayson in from the hips up. Damian is on the left of the drawing, head bowed, eyes closed, gripping tightly onto Dick's sleeve. Dick is holding his face in both hands, kissing his forehead with closed eyes. Damian is wearing a Nightwing-themed sweater, Dick is wearing a light red jacket over a blue t-shirt. The background is dark red. /end ID]

[grayson1996]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Prompts:

Comfort Food - Fear of Abandonment - “Please don’t leave me”

The Manor was suffocating.

At every corner Damian would run into yet another family member, pity etched onto their face and smiles twisted into a sympathetic grin. It was unnerving to have everyone be so nice to him. Though true that before his death he had warmed up to Cain and Brown, and had started a fragile alliance with Todd, Drake had only ever looked at him with barely concealed disdain. And his Father had barely even looked at him.

Now everything was different and Damian wasn’t sure if it was because he was alive or because Grayson was dead.

@dickanddamiweek

Not necessary to read chapter 1, this fic deals with canon temporary character death.

[grayson1996]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Prompts:

Proud - Protective Brothers -’You’re Safe’

Damian felt..strange.

That was the only word for it. There was nothing obvious he could point to that was wrong. He wasn’t injured, he wasn’t annoyed, he just felt off . Like something wasn’t clicking right. It felt like only half of him had woken up this morning, and the other half was still laying in his bed. It had started right when he opened his eyes. He didn’t move from the soft folds of his comforter for a while instead he remained still, eyes staring at the wall to his right. Fixated on the smallest chip in the paint. The clock read 5:00am and though Damian’s brain was telling him to get up and start his day, he couldn’t. He wanted to move but it was like he was glued to his bed and no matter how much he told himself to get up his body refused to listen.

@dickanddamiweek

[grayson1996]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Prompt:

Trust - Adoption Papers - You’re shaking

Dick Grayson was not allowed to break. Wasn’t afforded that luxury.

Not when his brothers depended on him. Not when he was expected to be their rock, the one holding it all together. If he broke then who would fix the others? Piece by piece, the parts coming together under his guidance.

His family was a house, and each betrayal, each deterrent, each hurt battered the building. Peeling the paint, eroding the boards, and breaking the windows. Bruce was the home’s foundation, he was the base, the thing the rest of them grew from. Alfred kept the home clean, swept the floors littered with broken glass and leaves that had blown in from the outside. But Dick was the handyman, he replaced the window panes and light bulbs. He walked around, hammer in hand, and if the wood began to splinter and crack he would restore it.

@dickanddamiweek

[terriandrre]

Day 5: Rain

There's a reason Batman and Robin wears capes