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  1. Public Bookmark 23

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    The battlefield is still burning when Tim realizes he’s dying, and worse, that he’s going to do it alone.
    Except he isn’t.
    Kon finds him. Bleeding, poisoned with kryptonite, barely standing, but still there. Still choosing Tim. Even at the end, Kon shields him from the war, soft voice in his ear, fingers in his hair, refusing to let him fade out by himself.
    If they’re going to die, they won’t do it alone.

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    24 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “You need to get better so that I can kick your ass properly,” Jason tells him, and Tim puffs out this low, long-suffering sigh.

    “You have no idea how to be normal about this, do you?” Tim says, so matter-of-fact that it floors Jason, and what is this, some sort of impromptu therapy session in the wake of casual attempted murder?

    “If you don’t shut the fuck up and eat your soup,” Jason says darkly. Fucking Robins.

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    23 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    "Did you see?" says Dick, and he lets go of Tim's shoulders to take him by the arm, tugging him toward the kitchen instead of the Batcave. "Alfred made cookies."

    "Think he's trying to lure you in," says Tim, with a huff of a laugh. "Like one of those traps they bait for raccoons."

    "Raccoons are too smart for that, baby bird," says Dick, blithely, and swipes up one of the bait-cookies anyway, biting into it with an appreciative little hum.

    Tim finds somewhere else to look — fixes his gaze on a spot on the far wall, trying hard to ignore the way the kitchen smells of cinnamon and nutmeg and sugar. His stomach twists a little, hopeful, and he tells it firmly that these aren't for him. They're Dick's welcome-home cookies.

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    23 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    He presses further into the younger boy’s space. “Let’s get one thing straight, Replacement,” he snarls lowly, and he knows his eyes are glowing an awful, predatory green. “I am very dead. And if I have anything to say about it, Batman isn’t ever going to be happy again.”

    His face is tight with pain, but he’s doing a valiant job at controlling his ragged breathing, his blood a steady drip drip drip onto the tile between them. His eyes meet Jason’s unflinchingly, and Jason can see the green glow reflected in them. He expects begging, bargaining, even some of that trademarked Robin sass that Dick seems to have passed along with the mantle.

    “Who did this to you, Jason?”

     

    Day. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT…
    taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

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    23 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    For a long moment, Alfred is silent, and Dick chews on his lip, trying to fight back the tears he can feel rising. “Do you know I have quite forgotten how Mr. Wayne took his eggs?” he says abruptly.

    Dick looks up in surprise, frowning, and Alfred nods before continuing. “He could be quite particular about them, I recall that much. I remember he didn’t like pepper in them, because Mrs. Wayne used to tease him about his… reluctance to enjoy spices. But I cannot for the life of me seem to recall whether he preferred them poached, or in the form of an omelette.”

    “That’s not a big deal,” Dick offers uncertainly. “I mean, I bet you remember lots of more important stuff,” he adds hastily, trying not to sound dismissive.

    Thankfully, Alfred tips his head in acknowledgement. “I do,” he agrees. “I remember a great many things. But I have forgotten things too, and I expect as time goes on, more of them will slip away from me, and it’s entirely possible that I won’t even notice they’re gone. My memories of them will simply be… less.”

    Dick looks at him, studying the lines of his weathered face. “Does that ever make you feel like... like if you loved them more, you’d remember them?”

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    23 Jun 2026