Anonymous asked: Could I just get some Bruce and Dick angst? Like when he first moved in with Bruce, and was still a lot broken from his parents’ death?

Challenge accepted!

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Bruce didn’t know what to say to him. When he saw Dick sitting next to his window, cheeks stained with tears and eyes puffy red from extensive crying, the words caught in his throat. He had been here before. He knew what he felt, probably more than anyone. Which meant he knew that nothing he could say could help.

He entered further into the room, steps slow and cautious, willing himself to relax, if just a little. He took a seat next to the boy and stayed there in silence for a while. The rain beat heavily against the window, only dampening the mood.

“Dick?”

“Go away.”

The chill in the boy’s words was so unexpected that they almost froze at it.

“Dick…I want to-“

“Talk?” Dick turned to him, most blue eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. “Talk about what? My parents? My life? My sorrow? What good will that do, huh? What good?!”

Tears began to fall again from the boy’s eyes and the frown on Bruce lips deepened.

“Dick it could do a lot to talk-“

“Stop it! Just stop it!” Dick’s voice broke in half. “You’re not my father! You will never be my father so stop acting like it! Just stop it!” 

No more words could form from his mouth, only sobs. Only heartbreaking, painful sobs that resonated with the pain Bruce still felt all these years later. He moved closer and put a hand on the younger’s shoulder, carefully drawing him into a hug.

“Why…? Why? Why?”

Bruce held him tighter, cringing at the pure emotion in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Dick.”

“Why?”

“I’m sorry.

Quality art post

outofthecavern:

bellevueblackbottle:

All text straight from skype chats. What we lack in character accuracy, we make up for in awesomeness.

….

Priceless 

Glorious.