(Incandescent)...Multifandom Imagines

Catchup for Titans

Dick Grayson:

How they react to you flinching during an argument:

The tension between you and Dick had been simmering for days, a mix of frustration and miscommunication slowly building until it hit a breaking point. Tonight, when his voice rose slightly, anger fueling his every word, you flinched. It was small, almost imperceptible, but Dick saw it immediately. In that fleeting moment, his heart sank, feeling like a lead weight in his chest. Dick's gaze softened as realization dawned on him, the heat of the argument dissipating like smoke in the wind. Memories flooded his mind, memories of a life filled with shouting voices, unexpected blows, and moments of fear he had buried long ago. He felt shame coil around him as he stood, stunned, and utterly still. For a second, he didn't know what to do. His instinct was to reach out to you, to close the distance and reassure you, but he froze, too afraid that he'd make things worse. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he fought to control the emotions warring within him, emotions he had thought he had left behind but had clearly brought into this relationship. Finally, he took a shaky breath, the lines of his face softening completely as he took a careful step back, giving you space. His heart ached to apologize, but he held it back, feeling like words alone wouldn't be enough. Instead, he allowed the room to settle into silence, hoping that his softened demeanor would tell you everything he couldn't put into words. Eventually, he took your hand, gently squeezing it, and promised himself that he would never let his own scars hurt you again.

How they react to you having a nightmare:

A gasp left your lips as you sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing as you tried to shake the vivid images that clung to your mind. Your sudden movement stirred Dick beside you, his hand instinctively reaching out to you, even in sleep.

"Hey, hey... What's wrong?" he murmured, voice thick with sleep, his hand sliding up your arm, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder.

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the nightmare, but Dick noticed your shivers and pulled you closer, resting his chin on top of your head.

"It was just a dream," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

His fingers found yours, intertwining them. "Just a dream, maybe. But it scared you. Do you want to talk about it?"

You bit your lip, considering. "I... I saw you. Falling. And I couldn't get to you. I just had to watch, helpless."

Dick's hand tightened slightly. "You know, the first thing they taught me in the circus was that every fall is an opportunity to get back up. And you're there to remind me of that every day."

His words were comforting, yet your mind still lingered on the nightmare. Sensing your continued unease, Dick gave you a reassuring smile. "We're safe here, you and me. Right now, that's all that matters. Lay down with me?"

You nodded, letting him guide you back into his arms. He kissed your forehead and whispered, "You'll always have me here. Even when the world goes dark."

As his warmth slowly lulled you back to sleep, you felt the fear slip away, replaced by a comforting security only he could provide.

How you sleep:

When you sleep, Dick prefers to hold you close. It's not out of a need to claim, but because he wants to feel grounded. His arm is always draped around you, and when he falls asleep, his body molds against yours, his breath warm against the back of your neck. There's something calming about it, the way his chest rises and falls in time with yours. He may not say it out loud, but he's finally found a place where he can rest, where he can trust that you'll be there when he wakes up. His fingers often trace circles on your skin, lightly grazing your arm or your side as he falls into a deep slumber. He sleeps soundly, but occasionally you'll hear him muttering in his sleep, his brow furrowed with whatever thoughts still linger from the day's battles. When he's like this, you know he's dreaming of things he doesn't want to confront—old wounds, past mistakes. But when you hold him tighter, he relaxes again, trusting that you'll be there to help him through the shadows of his mind. Dick likes to be the big spoon, the protector, but he'll shift occasionally, letting you lie against his chest, resting your head under his chin, his hand gently cradling the back of your neck. Even in sleep, his body language says it all—he'll adjust his position just so you're more comfortable, making sure you're covered with blankets and warm. There's a softness to him in the quiet hours of the night, a tenderness he rarely shows the world, and it's all for you.