Family don't end with blood

This sideblog is dedicated to the universal multiconstant Dick Grayson and his amazing family. They are all my sons and daughters I have adopted them and shall protect them to my last breath. The gorgeous art in my header was created by @thefuzzyaya My main blog is @wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey so check it out!

[lananiscorner]

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

Batfam Content War - Entry 3 - Aka Capital C and lower case h

This is the last entry. The “happy” entry. There is mention of past trauma and PTSD, but no one dies, no one gets hurt, and Bruce gets to a good Batdad™.

Giften to @jerseydevious, because this is my only BCW story that is set in comics canon and I want her to have some onions too.

@camsthisky

[loxare]

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

After Damian’s funeral, Titus goes missing. Jason goes to find him.

Art by the wonderful @arrowcomix!

[medusaceratops-deactivated20210]

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

um, uh, so remember that dick thing i mentioned? this one goes out to @sheepfulsheepyardinspace

[loxare]

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

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne & Bruce Wayne Characters: Damian Wayne, Titus - Character, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Batfam Content War 2017, more fluff!, It’s a sads sandwich on fluff bread! Series: Part 3 of Days and Nights Summary:

Damian is back. But Todd hasn’t come to the hill.

[the-singular-peep]

“again”

I didn’t know if @camsthisky ’s #batfamcontentwar was for art or not but i didn’t have time to write more, so I did some (much happier) art for it

Dick is the only one who openly cares for this tiny, hostile boy

[autumnhobbit]

Dying without company

“You know,” Jason croaks hoarsely, his throat tight with pain and his chest burning from the effort of speaking, “in our line of work, no one expects to live forever.” He pauses to gulp for air that burns as it goes down, and he clenches his eyes shut at the pain the effort causes him–and at how his headache is being exacerbated by Bruce banging against the bars of the cage they’re locked in, roaring threats at their captors. He doesn’t seem to be hearing anything Jason’s saying–he just keeps slamming his hands against the metal frame surrounding them. Jason’s not even sure if he’s speaking English. His posture is wound tight, and anyone even half-sane who saw him this way would turn and run the other direction as quickly as possible.

Jason’s never been sane, though. Plus, there is the small matter of the shrapnel embedded in his chest and stomach–and, more pressingly, the holes the shrapnel left. He’s been trying to put pressure on them since a few minutes after he got them–the first few heartbeats after the rocket launcher fired were nothing but white noise and terror and painpainpain–but his hands are shaking and it doesn’t seem to be doing much good. There’s slippery, sticky blood all over his hands, drenching his uniform, and the few times he’s chanced glancing down at his body he’s only been able to scan the shredded skin, flapping muscle, and the slight darker color of an organ before he’s looked away. He licks his lips, swallows blood and grimaces. But he clears his throat slightly and goes on. “And look, I know I’ve never been a safety-first kinda guy–” A spasm in his stomach makes him clench his eyes shut, keen deep in his throat. “–but I kinda…” he pants, breathless, gives a half-hysterical laugh through his teeth. “…I thought I’d at least make it to thirty.”

It occurs to him, after a long moment of just trying to catch his breath after speaking, that it’s quiet. He chances a glance at Bruce, and blinks when he sees the man just standing there. He’s still clasping the bars, shoulders hunched and so tight Jason can practically feel the rage wafting off him.

Though on second thought, maybe it’s not rage. There’s blood welling up in Jason’s throat, and he can’t stifle a whimper at the sensation. He gags, and then goes into a coughing fit that has him lurching up off the floor slightly, his whole body burning from the inside out and blood everywhere and—

“Shhh.” Something strokes his hair, comforting and gentle. “Breathe, Jay.” There’s another hand on his back, holding him up and rubbing smooth circles. The voice is tense but soothing and reassuring, and Jason finds his gasps growing slower, easier–though he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. His vision comes back slowly, colors bursting into his view in painful light. Bruce’s face, cowl still firmly in place, is above him, the man’s jaw tense in worry. He gently eases Jason’s head down into his lap, cups his face with a gloved hand and carefully wipes the blood from his cheek, his mouth. Jason sighs, leans into the touch and closes his eyes, and Bruce’s hand freezes on his cheek.

“You’re not going to miss out on thirty,” Bruce says, and Jason almost smiles, because Bruce’s voice is as firm as ever and the guy has a desperate need to deny reality.

“I…” he gulps. “I missed you, you know.”

Bruce stiffens further, if that’s even possible.

“Even when I was so angry, even when I hated you, I missed you so, so much, a-and it hurt so damn bad–”

“Jay.” Bruce sounds desperate.

“I just.” Jason’s eyes are burning viciously, almost as badly as his lungs, and he sobs once, the sound choked and odd-sounding from lack of air. “I just want you to know that I did hate you…but I still loved you, too. I…I still…”

“Oh, Jason,” Bruce says, fast and hoarse. His hand slides carefully but fiercely into Jason’s hair, pushing the tangled curls back behind his ear. “I love you too. You know that.”

Jason swallows blood. He does know, and he can hear the pain in Bruce’s tone that reveals how much his doubt hurts, but he can’t help it. He’s always been a cynical son of a bitch. Dying hadn’t changed that before, and it wouldn’t again.

He’s really starting to not feel good. Well, he’s been feeling pretty awful for a good long while now, but now he feels really bad. The pain in his torso—and especially in his stomach—feels deep-seated and intense and pulsing. It throbs in time with his faltering heartbeat, and he feels dizzy and lightheaded, like he’s going to fall over even though he’s lying still. Like he’s going to float up out of his head at any second. Though that might partly be because of the heat—he’s sticky and sweaty and yeah it makes sense that he would be feverish. Puncture wounds and intestines didn’t go well together. He’s probably screwed even if the others get here. Which they probably won’t. He wishes he could accept that fact with a little less desperation. He really doesn’t want to die without getting to say goodbye…and maybe even having them just be there, where he could see them. He imagines it must be awful to watch someone you love die right in front of you, but he reserves the right to think that dying alone is worse. He’d never been so utterly petrified in his life as when he’d died. As utterly weak. All he could do was lay there and cry as he slowly suffocated and wished that Bruce was there.

Bruce is here, now—and probably getting more than a little panicked that he’s spaced out, if the faint pressure on Jason’s face is anything to go by. And Jason’s grateful, he really is. But sue him if he wants the others, too. Even if he hates seeing Dick cry. It always makes him want to cry, too. He doesn’t know if Tim would cry. Maybe. Damian, who the hell knows. Cass would be upset. He thinks maybe she would be the worst.

He faintly feels like he’s being manhandled, and at first he thinks this is it; not in small part because he feels like he’s moving far more than he would be in reality from just being rolled over and tugged upwards. But then his chest hits Bruce’s and the breath leaves him from the pain. Huh. He wasn’t sure he was actually breathing. He supposes that’s a good sign.

“—You can’t do this again, Jason,” Bruce’s voice fades back in as the ringing in Jason’s ears eases off a bit. He rocks back a bit, dragging Jason along. Jason can feel Bruce’s arms around him, supporting him with a tension he knows all too well. “I don’t…” Bruce’s voice breaks, and Jason winces at the first of his hitched sobs. “I just got you back. I don’t want to say goodbye again.” I didn’t want to the first time, Jason hears. “I don’t want you to go.”

Jason takes that in, limp in Bruce’s lap, stuck staring at the collar of Bruce’s suit from where he’s lying, cheek is pressed against Bruce’s collarbone, held there by his dad’s gloved hand cupping his face. Bruce does know that changing position would only help if his lungs were full of blood, not his stomach, right? Jason doesn’t particularly want to go now, either, but…. “Y-You do know that isn’t,” he has to stop to gulp for air, half-laughing a bit at himself and the awkwardness of this situation, “exactly up to me, right, Dad?”

Bruce buries his face in the top of Jason’s head as a response, and Jason just lies there and breathes, listening to Bruce’s shuddering breaths as his tears wet Jason’s hair.

Jason winces. He can’t really move—no strength to—and he can barely feel his face, let alone his limbs. His whole body feels oddly numb…except for his stomach, of course, which is still throbbing with burning pain. He swallows. “…Dad?” He whispers.

Bruce freezes, and only a split-second later Jason’s eased down a bit, his head against Bruce’s forearm so that Bruce can look at him. Jason’s heart seizes a bit; Bruce’s face is streaked with tears. He wets his lips. Bruce probably won’t take this well, either. “Promise me you’ll cremate me. A-As soon as I’m dead. Promise me you won’t bring me back.”

Bruce’s whole body shudders faintly. “What….what are you talking about–”

“You can’t,” Jason wheezes, starting to cry. He doesn’t know why the thought suddenly occurred to him, but now it’s all he can think about, a pressing, real fear that’s a vice around his failing heart. He can’t do it. He can’t be pulled away from his dad’s arms to drift off into emptiness again, only to wake up screaming as his body is torn apart to put it back together. He can’t have his mind like that again. He can’t do it. He just can’t. “I don’t want to do it again, B, please. Promise me you won’t try to get me back, please, please just let–” he chokes on blood and snot. His stomach is probably in shreds now, based off how it feels, and more tears spill out at the thought of it. “Just let me go.”

A gloved hand on his cheek. “Shhh, Jason, calm down, please hold still–”

“Promise, B!”

Bruce hefts him back up again, and Jason feels a big hand cradling the back of his head. “I–” Bruce swallows, crying too. “I p-promise, Jason. I–I won’t.”

Bruce is crying too hard to speak, and so’s Jason, but he still tries to flop his numb arm up towards Bruce. Bruce catches it, pulls Jason’s hand in against his chestplate, to his heart.

Bruce lifts his head, and Jason thinks he hears something. Maybe the dull boom of an explosion. The others, maybe. Hopefully.

“Please,” Bruce whispers, into Jason’s ear. “Please wait.”

It kind of seems like Bruce said that uncertain of whether Jason could still actually hear him or not. It’s okay. He heard it. And he’ll try. It didn’t make a difference last time. But he’ll still do it. Bruce orders most of the time, and Jason still tried to obey, when it made sense. When Bruce asks…Jason tries.

(Ao3 link here.) [For @camsthisky’s content war.]

[shieldmaiden19]

For fans of the BBC’s Great British Baking Show and the DCEU’s Batfamily, my sister and I present for you the Showstopper you see here before you, contribution #2 for @camsthisky and her #batfamcontentwar.

The Great Batfamily Baking Show

Judges: Alfred Pennyworth and Jason Todd (because Alfred is Alfred, and the family was unanimous in deciding Jason wasn’t allowed to compete because he’s widely acknowledged as Alfred’s culinary protege).

Hosts: Barry Allen and Hal Jordan

Contestants: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Selina Kyle, and Harper Row.

Bruce Wayne is the first to go. He’s hopeless.

Tim’s done a lot of research but cannot execute.

Damian can execute what he knows, but that’s not enough.

Stephanie goes out in a blaze of glory and sprinkles.

Selina knows a lot and has a very developed palate, but her technique leaves a lot to be desired.

Dick scrapes by with a few gutsy bakes, acing several sweet challenges.

Cassandra flies under the radar for the most part and achieves Star Baker at least once.

Barbara shows great potential and makes wonderful savory pastries, breads, and biscuits.

Harper is competitive and works hard outside of the tent.

Duke wins with a showstopping masterpiece displaying four different internationally-themed eclairs inspired by the cultures from which his new family comes from - a classic savory shepherd’s pie eclair (British), a spicy Szechuan chicken one (Chinese), a tart lemon-habanero one (Romani), and a sweet Loukoumades-inspired eclair (Arabic).

[chimaerakitten]

Pixar part 2/7

part 1

The first time Dick watched Up, he’d been almost twenty, and well into his adult life. He’d come back to the manor in the middle of patrol time to pick up some stuff from his room. That way, he wouldn’t have to see Bruce or Jason. He liked the kid, really, but it was easier to just avoid both of them.

He was pretty surprised when the manor door swung open on Bruce’s haggard face rather than Alfred’s welcoming one.

“Dear God!” Dick exclaimed, “What happened?” He usually heard when Bruce was injured through the grapevine or Alfred, but it was possible he’d missed something.

But Bruce just shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Jason has the flu.”

Dick blinked. “Is he alright?”

“He’s through the worst of it, and spitting mad about missing school.”

“I’ll bet.”

The conversation stalled for a moment.

“So, are you going to let me in, or…”

Bruce blinked. “Right.” He stepped out of the way of the door. “Come in.” He paused, hesitant. “We already had dinner, but I doubt Alfred would mind getting out leftovers.”

Dick attempted a smile, “I’m just here to pick up a few things.”

Keep reading

[chimaerakitten]

Pixar part 1/7

I was going to post all seven parts as one fic, but A: It would be a REALLY long post in the tumblr format, and B: Content war ends in 20 minutes and I only have parts one and two finished. So it’s gonna be seven parts, and most of them will be posted later.

part 2

“So,” Dick said, standing by the TV. “Who’s ready for family movie night?”

Jason groaned, sinking into the couch. “I still don’t understand why we aren’t doing this next week, like we planned.”

Damian sat up, “We’re celebrating Drake’s pitiful achievement of returning from space with all his limbs still attached.”

Cass flicked him. “We’re happy to have all little brothers home at the same time.” She chided.

Damian grumbled.

Dick tossed the remote from one hand to the other. “Cass is right, as usual. It’s been ages since everyone was home at the same time.”

“Everyone’s still going to be home next week.” Tim said.

“As much as I hate to side with him,” Jason said, “Dick’s got a point. There’s at least a 98% chance that there’ll be some cosmic catastrophe between now and next Friday.”

Dick grinned. “Thank you, Jason. As I was saying, family movie night, we’ve got to pick a movie before Bruce gets up here, or he’ll pick some weird French emo thing.”

Jason snorted. “He used to have good taste.”

Keep reading

[chimaerakitten]

Can you do "Dicks not just your brother!" With Tim and Damian please?

So I was really stuck on writing this a certain way, and it wasn’t working, but when @camsthisky started the content war I figured it was time to start this one from scratch. I’m much happier with this version.

Ha ha ha ha Ican’t not cheat these prompts. Ithink it’s pretty obvious what part of the timeline this is.

It was almost anhour before Tim found him. Frankly, he was surprised Bruce hadn’t alreadychecked out here. In hindsight, it seemed obvious. When Damian wanted comforthe only ever went to one person.

Tim made sure tomake noise as he approached; he had no idea how out of it the kid was.

Damian stiffened,but gave no other indication he knew Tim was there.

Tim sighed. “Areyou ready to come back in?” He hoped so. He wasn’t qualified to handle Damianin an emotional state.

“Inform Father,”Damian said, his voice quavering only slightly, “That I am perfectly fit topatrol.”

Tim sat down nextto Damian, ignoring the way the wet grass would leave statins on his clothes.“I can’t tell him that, because I agree with him.”

Damian shot him alook of betrayal.

“I think you’rebetter off letting it heal for a little while rather than going back out to gethurt again,” Tim said.

Damian grumbled,but it was tinged with more sadness than anger. “I should have known youwouldn’t understand.”

Keep reading

[connanro]

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

Explosions are never a good thing, especially when Bruce’s children are involved.

(aka the one where things aren’t fixed, but Bruce makes a step in the right direction.)

[batduckker-blog]

Eyy it’s Jason Todd again The first one is the original but I like the second one too. I really like how gritty it looks :)

[fuyunoakegata]

Turn, Turn, Turn

On AO3

For @caramelmachete :)  and thanks to @preciousthingsareprecious for talking me through it. No warnings other than minor angst and typical Bat stubbornness.

The rhythmic creaking of the gymnastic apparatus and the soft chittering of the bats were the only sounds in the cave. A wave of chaos marched across the mats towards the high bar, detailing a map across the cave floor, from one training area to another. A crumpled towel here, torn athletic tape there, too few water bottles dropped where they’d been drained.

Hnh. Minutes passed by and the sounds didn’t slow, let alone cease, though the spinning body above was showing clear signs of exhaustion. “How long are you going to keep this up?”

Keep reading

[yuzukimist]

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

Jason is used to pissing people off and getting into fights. It’s pretty much in the job description, after all. But an actual assassination attempt isn’t something that happens very often, so when he ends up shot, stabbed, and with no clue as to who’s behind it, he’s faced with a bit of a conundrum.

His night only gets more complicated when his estranged brothers somehow insinuate themselves into the situation.

[Written for @camsthisky’s #batfamcontentwar, but I’m a little late, sorry! Life threw me a curve-ball, as it tends to do so I couldn’t finish in time. XD]

[mc-awsome-arts]

No One Will Suspect a Thing

Inspired by this post

[dhampir10fsn]

By: BossLogic

[thefeistydragon]

Nightwing Has Been Cast!

Brenton Thwaites has been cast as Nightwing in the upcoming Titans series.