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cashewally-sarcastic · 4 months

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Ventus, who has spent days on the streets of Old Mondstadt listening to the voices of the people. Who has silently watched as parents take care of their young. Watch kids escort their aunts to the stores. The wind around him is so cold

He plays his lyre. Its the only thing he has on him. He would rather die than say where he acquired it, and at the end of the day its his lyre.

Ventus closes his eyes. For the breifedt moment he couldn't hear the deafening gales around him. He is in the eye of the hurricane. What song is he even playing? He switched from one track to the other minutes ago and was now improvising a solo.

The families are still talking to each other.

At the end of the day, he is just background music

.

Then one day a creature bumps into him. Radiating the same warmth as a prayer and eyes akin to his god's. Was it a spy? Was it a child? Was it a puppet?

Wearily, he asks for a name. Smiling as he tells the sprite how he wishes to make ballads of the little thing. It flutters around him, occassionally stumbling in mid air like its drunk. It gives out a little squeak as it gestures to itself.

Ventus tries to mimic that chime, but his mouth can't hit the same notes. The sprite speaks more and more, yet Vrntus can't understand a thing. He just smiles and nods as he subconsciously plays his lyre.

Before he knows it, he can feel the chill of night. Or at least what he thinks it night. The elders of the city tell what night is supposed to be, but the winds had carried away those voices a long time ago.

Tales of an object called the moon. How it would shift as the weeks go by. How it could disappear and be reborn once anew- surrounded by her starry sisters.

Night.

He hated it.

He hates how cold it is. How dark it is. How every candle and life is snuffed by the wind.

Yet the creature is still hear, making a nest on his lap.

Its warm.

Letting go of his lyre for just a breif moment, he runs his fingers down the cloak of the sprite. Soft yet smooth. Was this what a bird felt like?

Tomorrow would be another day. Tomorrow he could try to pronounce his ... freind's name better. Tomorrow he could do so much.

Despite the being being on his lap, he felt a warmth in his chest. Something he has never felt before. Something that made him think of protecting this creature.

Ventus rests his eyes as he carries his first friend, unware he would do this everynight til the day he died

*cheers and applause amid tears and sobs*

MAN that was NOT was I was thinking about sad wise but FUCK that hurts

#ready for my tags of insanity until i hit the tag limit? here we go:#i love that there's like PEOPLE and INTERACTIONS there even when just described like 'children escorting aunts to stores' it's so nice #and that contrasting to ventus's loneliness and 'he's just background music' OUGH that hits #also hi in love with the use of a period as a paragraph that's an amazing way to make a pause i'm stealing that from you <3 #the way night is described as like...a mystical thing is so cool #'elders told of an object called the moon' like man. they couldn't see the sky.#and how venti makes little wisp noises bestie couldn't speak but i love that it's so cute #the way venti is described too as being warm and light and making little noises against the cold and dark and silence of night....#and questioning if wispi was like a bird.... :(#PLUS i know i say this literally every time but i love repetition the repeating of 'tomorrow this' 'tomorrow that' like...#it brings questions!!! is that the first time ventus was thinking about a TOMORROW and not just 'the next day'?#and then the end of 'every night until he died' like fuck...#the way that's said as just a fact like 'yes. he dies btw. this is a sweet moment but don't forget the death' hits #because for a second a SECOND you can forget that and just see this nameless bard meeting a wisp and finally having a friend #and not being alone #but then BOOM remember reality.#he is dead. he died.#anyway i loved it :0 #hi steel!#sorry for my insanity

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ciderbird · 3 months

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academic bias is so funny because you’ll be reading about the same historical event and one person is like “Despite the troubles that befell his homeland and near constant criticism of the court King Blorbo remained strong in the face of adversity” and the other one is like “after letting his people carry the brunt of his cringefail decisions Blorbo the Shitface refused to listen to any reason and continued to be a warmongering piece of shit. Also he was ugly.”

#historians are out there beefing with ppl who died over 200 years ago. good for them #history #history memes #this isn’t really about anyone in particular #but I did read the most hilariously bitter takes on alexander I #not that it’s hard to poke fun at his vanity and indicisive nature but like. he was just a poor little meow meow #although I have some weird grudges against dead ppl as well *cough* Catherine II *cough*

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 1 month

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The Bronx Zoo has just released Flaco's necropsy results.

He was not thriving, as the people championing the ideal of "freedom" claimed.

He was poisoned.

He was sick.

He was suffering.

"Freedom" would have eventually killed him. A building just happened to do it first.

"Postmortem testing has been completed for Flaco, the Eurasian eagle owl that was found down in the courtyard of a Manhattan building a little over a year after his enclosure at the Central Park Zoo was vandalized on February 2, 2023. Onlookers reported that Flaco had flown into a building on the Upper West Side of Manhattan on February 23, 2024, and acute trauma was found at necropsy. Bronx Zoo veterinary pathologists determined that in addition to the traumatic injuries, Flaco had two significant underlying conditions. He had a severe pigeon herpesvirus from eating feral pigeons that had become part of his diet, and exposure to four different anticoagulant rodenticides that are commonly used for rat control in New York City. These factors would have been debilitating and ultimately fatal, even without a traumatic injury, and may have predisposed him to flying into or falling from the building. The identified herpesvirus can be carried by healthy pigeons but may cause fatal disease in birds of prey including owls infected by eating pigeons. This virus has been previously found in New York City pigeons and owls. In Flaco’s case, the viral infection caused severe tissue damage and inflammation in many organs, including the spleen, liver, gastrointestinal tract, bone marrow, and brain. No other contributing factors were identified through the extensive testing that was performed. Flaco’s severe illness and death are ultimately attributed to a combination of factors—infectious disease, toxin exposures, and traumatic injuries—that underscore the hazards faced by wild birds, especially in an urban setting."

The naturalistic fallacy kills animals in horrible ways. The romanticism of what humans want to think of as a "free, wild, pure life" cannot be allowed supplant the reality of injury, sickness, and death. Releasing captive animals (or keeping them from being recaptured) because it's "better" for them to suffer untethered than live a healthy, safe, captive life is inhumane and horrific.

Flaco's life didn't have to end in pain, sickness, and suffering.

Flaco's death didn't have to be tragic.

But once the idea of "freedom" entered the chat, Flaco's fate was unavoidable.

#flaco #tw animal death #tw animal sickness #better dead than fed is a horrific mindset #zoo animal welfare #screenshot feat the WCS's inability to remember to remove their editorial template from highly sensitive press releases round 2 #colored text #people who loved the ideal of him more than the reality of him #congrats #you killed this owl #I'm still so mad that people who wanted him to stay loose got all sorts of media attention for the elegies they wrote when he died

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thebibliosphere · 3 months

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I feel like I've complained about Tim's email situation in Gotham Knights before (edit: I have), but the truth of it is just so funny.

He's signed up for so many podcasts, video game streamers, and random news alerts; it's just a constant barrage of data going straight into his constantly whirring brain. Hell, he even floats the idea of the Batfamily having their own podcast as a way to correct misinformation about them (which Jason shoots down instantly), and it's made me realize something.

Timothy Drake would be a YouTuber.

In this universe specifically, Timothy Jackson Drake, the heir to Drake Industries and the foster son of the late Bruce Wayne would be a YouTuber.

Think about it. It'd be the perfect cover. Who would ever suspect that some 16-year-old nepo baby with a YouTube channel could ever be Red Robin? You'd have to be mad. I mean, look at him.

Red Robin just dropped out of literal thin air and garotted someone four times his size, and you expect anyone to believe that's the same kid who does 24-hour Minecraft charity streams and occasionally drops 6-hour video essays (his last one was on Lex Luthor's illegal bit mining operation on the moon)?

That kid?

You think that kid is Red Robin?

Ch'yah, okay, sure. And the Joker is funny 🤡.

#gotham knights game #I'm now incorporating this into all my Tim headcanons across the multiverse #twice a week as part of maintaining his Normal Teenager Identity #he streams random shit on YouTube/Twitch #he's got the full gamer set up in the background #LED lights around the ceiling and walls #rainbow keyboard/headset #mini fridge filled with Monster Energy Drinks #(other streamers have 'take a shot' prompts in chat. his audience has 'drink water before you die')#whenever he hosts a charity stream Bruce makes an appearance in chat via the official Wayne Enterprises account #and promises to match whatever they raise #and then hangs about for a bit to cheer Tim on #he's the epitome of 'are ya winning son?' meme #meanwhile off screen #Tim's keeping an eye on a seperate monitor #and helping Babs run remote ops #if his stream suddenly dies (which is does fairly often) he blames it on the Manor having shitty wifi #and that tracks #it's an old house #it's probably FILLED with lead and dead signal spots #in reality Tim killed the stream because Red Robin is needed #and no one will ever know

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aroaceleovaldez · 3 months

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Nico referring to his mom as "Mama" implies he most likely at least used to refer to Hades as "Papa" and i 100% headcanon he still does but mostly in the manner of him having the entire Underworld wrapped around his finger for being the baby of the family

#pjo #riordanverse #nico di angelo #headcanon #my art #nico flexing youngest child privilages by pulling out the most pitiful expression he can manage #anyways i find it fun to explore character word choices #cause yknow no two characters are going to select their words the same way #or even necessarily think about it to the same degree #i like to think Nico thinks about his word choice a lot #so of course every time he uses ''papa'' he fully knows he's pulling the Baby Of The Family card #Hades definitely knows this too but falls for it every time anyways #cause Nico hasnt called him ''papa'' regularly since getting his memory wiped - just detached ''father'' or at best ''dad''#so it just reminds Hades of How Much He Just Wants His Children To Be Happy Like The Old Days #and how much poor Nico has been through and he's just the baby of the family and-#cue Nico smugly staring at the camera cause he knows how much power he holds #also i say Nico is Hades' only son cause mythologically even when Zagreus *is* Hades' son (rarely) he's. dead.#a major part of Zagreus' mythology is that he died #and im p sure every other deity said to be Hades' children are all goddesses and also are like 50% of the time not his #theres also only like 3 of them. and as far as we know in riordanverse canon one of them is implied to not be his daughter #so Nico is Hades' only son and also youngest in the family (cause Hazel is older by a month chronologically or 1 year biologically)#(and everybody else is a deity if children of hades at all)

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radiance1 · 4 months

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Damian: [brushing his teeth]

The shadow hanging over his shoulder: [Gets its teeth dangerously close to Damian's shoulder]

Damian: [Shoves a toothbrush into said shadow move and starts brush]

The shadow: [Pauses before starting to let out a contented purr]

Damian then spits out the foam and washes out his mouth, then makes the shadow do the same and then picks out pjs.

Damian: [Currently decided if he should go with the cat, dog, or knife imprinted one]

The shadow: [Starts getting dangerously close to Damian with, toxic green spirals it calls eyes]

Damian: [Throws the dog imprinted one behind him at the shadow and takes the cat imprinted one for himself and tells the shadow to put it on]

The shadow: [Stares at the clothes before hesitantly putting them on before letting out a noise of distress]

Damian: [Turning around to find the shadow somehow stuck in the pjs, lets out a sigh, then starts to help them fit]

Damian then moves over to the bed, he points to one side and tells the shadow to go there. The shadow listens, laying down as Damian also lays down, grabbing the sheets and covering them both.

It barely took a few seconds for the shadow to fall asleep, and Damian stared at it. Damian wasn't quite sure why the shadow of his dead twin was following him, nor why it was even able to and seemed to hide itself from anyone who isn't Damian.

Nobody besides him knew about it, and Damian decided that he liked it. This could have been his younger brother, if the other had survived, and they would have probably been told to fight to the death to decide an heir.

At the very least, that won't ever happen.

Even if his brother was slightly unusual.

===

Danny did not remember much of the before, he remembered people with blurred faces and features, blurred colors. He remembered a lot of colors, then red, then white, then pain.

He doesn't like pain, he believes.

Then he remembered going to sleep, and then he woke up. It was dark and slimy and cramped when he woke up, especially when he realized someone else was in their with him.

Then he fell asleep again, then woke up to that same dark and slimy place, then fell asleep again, all in some weird cycle. Then, moving, and pain.

It hurt, and he was sluggish when it eventually stopped. Then came pain again, and he was asleep.

Then he woke up, again.

He didn't know what was happening, wasn't really aware of too. But he woke up next to the other who was in that dark and slimy with him, and decided he wanted to stay with them.

He wasn't aware enough for most of the things that happened when Damian grew up, but he still stayed regardless, and hide from everyone else.

Danny loves his brother, and he thinks his brother loves him too. Even if he was slightly unusual.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Danny died and reincarnated #After a ruthless amount of experimentation at that #He only vaguely remembers his past life lawl #Anyways Danny was reborn as Damian's twin but was killed because of a birth defect #Then he woke up again as some weird shadow creature and attached himself to Damian #Damian meanwhile isn't quite sure why his brother is still around when he should be dead #But takes care of him regardless of that fact #Even if his brother seemed to move more on instinct with the curiosity of a ten year old despite technically being the same age as him #For the record #Danny ISN'T a halfa here #Since he died he lost that status lawl #Danny is a shadow creature who attached himself to his older brother Damian #Shocker I know #Real different to how I usually have them in my posts huh?#Right Danny still takes the form of a child #A shadowy wispy child but still #He only comes up to Damian's chest lawl but he can fly so it balances out #He also weighs nothing so Damian can just easily pick him up lol

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yendts · 8 days

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i just know that post tartarus nap hit hard

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originalartblog · 9 months

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worse than a cockroach

#dazai has 'died' at least once (55 minutes) but actually twice (dead apple) before and he keeps coming up with new one-liners #he'll figure out the coolest one for when the real deal happens (on his death bed surrounded by his friends and family at 90)#in the meantime he lives for the drama #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanart #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd spoilers #bsd manga spoilers #bsd 109 #nawy's comics

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wishing-well-art · 10 months

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Dramatic recreation of me and my friends watching the end of nimona

#my doodles #nimona #nimona spoilers #we were DEAD SILENT that entire third act #followed by the most intense breath of relief #we were way too scared she died LMAO #we couldn't even laugh at ha ha he said swearword

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 4 months

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"Please stop asking how I got in here," the white haired kid said, annoyance laced in his voice, "All I want to know is if any of you can do detective work in the supernatural world!"

Constantine just barely opened his mouth before the kid turned on him, "Not you! You have terrible reviews!"

Bruce tensed as Lazarus green eyes locked on him, "How about you? You're the worlds greatest detective, right? I know you probably won't take gold as payment since Bruce Wayne is your sugar daddy, but I can offer up information on the Infinite Realms instead!"

Batman, calm and collected even as Green Arrow and Flash snickered from across the room, "Infinite Realms?"

Phantom grinned, "Is that an agreement? Cause Prince Psaro could really use your help. He has so many questions, and the answers may save his life. You want to save the life of a teenage boy surrounded by demons and monsters, don't you?"

Bruce stared at the teen, not looking away even with Constantine motioning not to agree, Bruce nodded.

And in a moment, they were gone. They reappeared in a grand hall with a ruby eyed teenager looking impossibly small from his place on the massive throne. Silver hair shined oddly in the light of the purples flames that danced in the sconces, making the boy seem more ethereal.

"Hey Psaro!" The white haired kid from before greeted, "I brought you a detective like you asked. Don't forget you have to teach me magic now!" The first teen vanished without a trace leaving Batman and what he now recognized as an angsty goth alone together.

As it turns out Psaro had many questions and offered to pay him a generous amount in gold each day.

Some of his questions include:

What kingdom was my human mother a princess of?

Why can't I remember key information from my childhood, such as my brothers very existence?

I was framed for the murder of all of the "Chosen Heros" loved ones. How do I prove im innocent before he comes to take off my head?

Why do Rose's tears shatter?

Is there a way to stop his younger brother from destroying the world without caging him or killing him?

Ect.

Bruce has his work cut out for him, but between the mysterious white haired kid popping in now and then to give him cryptic conversations, the team on litteral monsters he was given to defend himself with, and his access to royal libraries and vaults this might not be so bad

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yuyonyu · 7 months

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Gogol’s unrequited love

#i died when he put fyodor’s arm NEXT TO HIS FACE #it’s kind of sad how nikolai’s feeling is one sided #he’s a widow now #congrats on joining the dead husband club #except that fyodor’s probably not dead💀#skk lived too it’s not soukokover #the old man yaoi made me so miserable #bsd #bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoevsky #nikolai gogol #gogol #fyolai #fanart #bsd fanart #art #fyodor really went KA BOOM BOOM

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symphonyofsilence · 20 days

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What drives me even more insane about this scene is how you'd expect Gojo to imagine High school era! Geto in the crowd. Or at least not the cult leader, worst of all the curse users Geto Suguru. But no, it's the cult leader Geto. It's Geto as Gojo last remembered him. As Geto last was. Whatever choices Geto made, wherever his choices led him and them, however he was, whoever he was, traumas and messed up ideas and bad choices and ill reputations and scorns and all. Gojo wanted Geto Suguru there. Not any ideal version. Not any "what if" version. Not any "at some point in time before things went downhill" version. Not any "when your hands weren't stained with innocent blood" version. He knew very well what he wanted. And he wanted it all the same. He wanted Geto Suguru. However he was. He just wanted him to be there. He just wanted him to be.

And he didn't want him to help him, he didn't want him to fight with him even if they were strongest together and always fought together for a while. He just wanted him to be there in the crowd and cheer him on. He just wanted him to stand there and give him one of his sweet, heartwarming smiles that shaped his eyes into crescent moons. He just wanted him to be. Then even if Gojo had died in the end anyway, he would have been satisfied. It would have been worth it. Only if Geto was there.

#his love is so pure! it's so real! it drives me insane!#'this is pure love' playing in the background while Gojo said his last words to Geto before his death was a perfect choice!#people died because the strongest sorcerer alive didn't make any move against his batshit boyfriend for 10 years #then couldn't burn his body after he had to kill him. and then froze like a deer in spotlight after he saw his body in the subway #and the same thing is true for Geto his dead body literally came to life to protect Gojo #(the very first case among Kenjaku's many hosts during centuries) even after Gojo had killed him! and he bore no grievance towards Gojo #even in his last moment. to the point that even Nanako & Mimiko knew that Geto had no problem dying by Gojo's hands.#'Whether you come as a lover or an executioner I am ready to receive you.'#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #geto suguru #suguru geto #satosugu #gege akutami #my two cents

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riot-ghost · 6 months

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Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.