This is why stalinglim should not feed the Bruce/Dick bunnies
Title: Turnings
Characters: Bruce, Dick (hints of Bruce/Dick)
Summary: Bruced hated child molesters
Word Count: 140
Rating: PG
Warning: Dick is sixteen or seventeen in my mind. But that isn't obvious.
Author's note: This is one of my first attempts to write from Bruce's point of view. Any feedback on his characterization would be greatly appreciated.
Bruce hated child molesters. They were parasitic scum, who warped something bright and pure until it was twisted and dark. They preyed on the innocent, the good. Some kidnaped their victims; those were evil and cruel and sickening. But they weren't as sickening as the subtler ones. The ones that already lived with their victim, and used that access. The ones that perverted a child's' natural love for his guardians for their own depraved purposes. Children who might have loved and trusted them openly, the way Dick trusted him.
Dick, who was experimenting on the uneven bars. Pushing himself into flight with his strong young muscles, almost laughing with the joy of it. Soaring and twisting and spinning, graceful and lithe and beautiful in the air.
But Bruce wasn't watching him. Bruce was sitting at the computers, reviewing old case files to remind himself why he hated child molesters.
Characters: Bruce, Dick (hints of Bruce/Dick)
Summary: Bruced hated child molesters
Word Count: 140
Rating: PG
Warning: Dick is sixteen or seventeen in my mind. But that isn't obvious.
Author's note: This is one of my first attempts to write from Bruce's point of view. Any feedback on his characterization would be greatly appreciated.
Bruce hated child molesters. They were parasitic scum, who warped something bright and pure until it was twisted and dark. They preyed on the innocent, the good. Some kidnaped their victims; those were evil and cruel and sickening. But they weren't as sickening as the subtler ones. The ones that already lived with their victim, and used that access. The ones that perverted a child's' natural love for his guardians for their own depraved purposes. Children who might have loved and trusted them openly, the way Dick trusted him.
Dick, who was experimenting on the uneven bars. Pushing himself into flight with his strong young muscles, almost laughing with the joy of it. Soaring and twisting and spinning, graceful and lithe and beautiful in the air.
But Bruce wasn't watching him. Bruce was sitting at the computers, reviewing old case files to remind himself why he hated child molesters.