IrenaKB

Batman brought Robin, Jason, for a long night watch on a gargoyle.

It was Jason's first time seeing Gotham from such a high place. She was beautiful, silent, but not quiet.But Jason was like a kitten climbing a tree branch for the first time.

He clearly wasn't used to it, constantly shifting his position.

"I mean,B. Do we have to squat on this cold, hard stone monster? My butt's going numb. There are so many more comfortable rooftops in Gotham."

Batman didn't move a muscle, like a stretched, distorted shadow of the gargoyle itself.

"Robin,you need to calm your mind. This gargoyle has the best sightlines. Comfort is secondary. Efficiency is primary."

Jason, fighting the instinct to lean back, lowered his body. It made him look like a puffy bird, seeming a bit annoyed.

"Efficiency?My blood isn't circulating. In half an hour, I'll faceplant when we have to chase someone. What kind of efficiency is that?"

Batman suddenly remembered Dick.

Dick had been so at home on the gargoyle from the very first time, he'd even done acrobatics on the jagged tip! Batman had to admit it startled even him back then.

His nimble bird had flown off to Blüdhaven. And Jason... Jason was very different.

Batman turned his head, as if convinced by Jason's argument.

"...You're right.Not maintaining peak physical condition is a tactical error. Come here."

Jason carefully shuffled over.

"What?Got a Bat-brand gel cushion?"

Batman pointed to the structure of the gargoyle's back.

"Look here.The curve of its back isn't random. You need to find three points of contact: your sitting bones, the ankle of one leg, and your elbow braced against the back of its wing. This way, your weight is distributed, and muscle groups can take turns resting."

Jason slowly adjusted his posture.

"Like this?...Hey, it's... actually less awkward."

Batman nodded.

"Correct.Now, fine-tune your center of gravity. Don't fight the curve of the stone, work with it. Imagine you are part of the building itself."

Jason adjusted a few more times, finally finding a comfortable position.

"Whoa.That's magic. Where'd you learn that? 'Gargoyle's Guide to Self-Care'?"

Batman settled onto another stone creature.

"Experience.I've tried every high point in Gotham. This one is in the top three."

Jason laughed, having clearly mastered the technique.

"So you really have a ranked list?!God, Bruce, you can be so... weird. But thanks, this is a good trick." (He pauses) "So... where's number one?"

Batman was silent for a few seconds.

"...The one on top of Wayne Tower.But that's my spot."

The afternoon sun streamed through the high windows, casting warm pools of light on the floor.

A small black panther was practicing his pounces on a custom-made, small punching bag. His powerful claws dug deep into the canvas, his body moving with the strength unique to large felines. A low, practiced rumble rolled in his throat. Each time he landed, his long tail swished restlessly, slapping against the floor.

In the corner, a black Asian golden cat was curled into a dark, fuzzy ball, napping on a soft cushion directly in a sunbeam.

Cassandra, disturbed by the constant noise, twitched the very tip of one ear. Then, her dark, pupil-less eyes slid open in the shadows. She didn't get up immediately, but instead calmly tracked the young panther's every move with her gaze.

After one particularly hard strike from the panther, the bag swung back violently, its chain letting out a sharp groan. Damian nimbly leaped back to avoid it. A dissatisfied growl rumbled in his throat, his tail lashing. The fur on the back of his neck puffed up from adrenaline, making him seem bigger. He instinctively glanced toward Cassandra's corner. She seemed to be silently watching him.

A low growl vibrated in Damian's throat. (King Engine, start start start!) "Get lost, Orphan." His feline, agitated scent practically screamed the words.

Cassandra made no sound. She simply stopped her pretend bathing, stood up slowly, arched her sleek back in an extremely elegant stretch, her claws extending from her paw pads and then retracting. She padded over to the punching bag, her soft paws making no sound on the floor, like a black shadow sliding across the ground.

She sat down in front of the still-swinging bag, her long tail tip curled gently. She just looked at Damian with those all-seeing dark eyes, then back at the bag.

Damian let out a huff through his nose and turned his head away, as if expressing disdain. But the next second, he decided to show off a more difficult move – using the bag's swing for a momentum-assisted attack. He pushed off with his hind legs, leaping with full force. However, his launch angle was too aggressive; his front claws caught on the connecting chain, and his whole body instantly lost balance. He fell sideways with a thud, tumbling twice before stopping.

He scrambled back to his feet quickly, his black fur completely puffed out, his ears flattened against his head in embarrassment. He let out a frustrated, sharp "Tt!"

Cassandra didn't move unnecessarily. She just extended a black paw, her claws sliding silently out from their pads, and gently hooked the rough surface of the bag. She didn't even seem to push back; she just held her ground like a rock, and the bag's swinging ceased in front of her.

"She's been provoking me all along!" The black panther's pupils narrowed into dangerous slits, his gaze locked on Cass.

Cass began to walk towards Damian. Damian's whole body sank slightly lower, every muscle taut like a drawn bowstring, poised either to attack or dodge in an instant. His long tail, now stiff as a whip, was pressed close to the ground, only the very tip vibrating with tiny, rapid movements.

A warm, soft forehead gently nudged his stiff shoulder. After completing this soothing gesture, the larger black cat walked to the other side of the sandbag.

Then, in slow motion, she perfectly recreated the move he had failed: her hind leg muscles tensed subtly, she leaped up lightly, twisted precisely in the air, and gently patted the bag with her front paws. The bag only made a soft thump, swinging away in a stable, controlled arc. After the demonstration, she glanced meaningfully at the spot on the floor where she had pushed off.

The young panther's puffed-up fur slowly smoothed down. He hesitantly moved closer, his nose twitching slightly. This time, without his earlier impatience, he mimicked her posture, adjusting his own stance.

The larger black cat made adjustments with her body language: when his hind leg stance was wrong, her tail would gently brush past his joint; when his balance wavered, she would nudge his side with her head. The training room was no longer filled with frustrated growls, only the rhythmic sound of the swinging bag and the quiet communication between the two large felines.

：Cause jujubes are nature's blood packs!

Jay:......?

Hope this joke works in translation! (Not 100% sure though...)

在又一次搞坏了提姆咖啡机后，康纳从仙女座带回来一颗植物作为道歉礼物。

提姆看着面前这颗长相非常奇怪的植物，好整以暇的问面前的氪星人：“所以，这就是你的歉意？”

氪星人告诉提姆，这是来自xx星系的一种很特别的植物，他们在进入生长期后能和所有生物对话。

“他们是天生的密码学家！”氪星人欢快的说道。

提姆开始正视起这颗植物

“那她什么时候会进入生长期呢？”这换来了氪星人诡异的沉默。

提姆气笑了

“我听见有猫要过马路我去扶一下”氪星人叮铃桄榔的冲出基地。

总之，韦恩集团属于德雷克总裁的办公桌上出现了一株奇丑的植物。

康纳从沉睡中醒来，一时不知道自己在哪个星际漂浮

“该回去看看提姆了”

康纳回到了德雷克庄园，提姆最后的十年都在这里住着。

满头华发的红罗宾总是理所应当的使唤着他们这些不会老的朋友们，在庄园里种下了各种各样的奇花异草，他总是挑那些最费心的最难伺候的花草。

每当康纳试图反抗，就会听见那个他恨不得上去揍两拳的回答。

“这可是我以后要睡的地方，你得帮我照顾好啊～”提姆笑着，微微上扬的下颌，就像很多年前那位娇矜的韦恩少总。

总之，提姆如愿了。

康纳轻轻的降落在德雷克庄园，没有惊扰到任何一颗植物。

无人照料的植物们自相其乐，这已经是她们的乐园。康纳不想去看那个人，他是那么的得意，脸上挂着令人恨得牙痒的坏笑。即使照片是他挑的。

康纳走进庄园的主体，打算大发慈悲的做一个大扫除，超级听力却捕捉到了一个微乎其微的声音。

“康纳...kon....”庄园里已经不可能有人来了，这或许是一个遗留的恶作剧

康纳顺着声音走去，他用上了超级速度

声音的来源是提姆的卧室，康纳已经很久没有进去过了

康纳推门走进去，抬眼就看见了那颗植物

外星植物的生命力顽强，这成了提姆唯一愿意亲手照料的生物

她终于进入了生长期

康纳终于听到了那个人迟来的告白

what is “shouming lun”（寿命论）？

I think it's hard to be explained in english

"When your love has grown vineyards in their soul,you're still planting wildflower seeds in yours."

This tag thrives with meme-like popularity across the Chinese fandom ecosystem.

The '寿命论' trope examines existential paradoxes when an ageless species intersects with ephemeral mortals (e.g., humans).

Chinese tradition chases divine immortality, yet holds mortal brevity sacred—thus in our tales, it's the ageless who bear love's sharpest thorns.

Unlike Western fantasy's glorification of immortality, we fixate on its torment—like Zhang Qiling's millennial solitude in *The Lost Tomb*, or Master Ziyin's eternal disquiet in *Gu Jian Qi Tan*.

After wrecking Tim’s coffee machine *again*, Kon returned from Andromeda with a plant as an apology gift.

Tim eyed the bizarre-looking specimen before him, asking the Kryptonian with deceptive calm:

“So… this is your peace offering?”

Kon declared cheerfully: “It’s a special species from a star system you wouldn’t recognize! Once it hits its growth cycle, it communicates with all living beings.”

“They’re natural cryptographers!”

Tim straightened up. “And when does it enter this growth cycle?”

Kon’s sudden silence was louder than a bomb.

Tim let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Heard a cat crossing the street—gotta help!”Kon clattered through the base in his escape.

Thus, an unsightly plant became a permanent fixture on CEO Drake’s desk at Wayne Enterprises.

Years later, Kon awoke from stasis disoriented. “Time to check on Tim.”

He flew to Drake Manor—where the Red Robin had spent his final decade. The silver-haired hero had famously bossed around his ageless friends, filling the estate with temperamental exotic flora. *

“Pick the fussiest ones,”he’d insisted.

Whenever Kon protested, Tim would flash that infuriating, familiar smirk:

“I’ll be sleeping here forever. You’ll keep it perfect for me, right?”

That lifted chin still echoed the proud Wayne heir from decades past.

In the end, Tim got his wish.

Kon landed softly in the overgrown garden, without disturbing a single leaf. The plants thrived on their own, having reclaimed the manor as their Eden.

Kon avoided *that* portrait—the one with Tim’s triumphant, punch-worthy grin (even if Kon himself had chosen the photo).

As he moved toward the main house, intent on cleaning, super-hearing caught a whisper:

*“Kon… el…..kon”*

The manor had been empty for years. Some prank?

Kon sped toward the sound’s source: Tim’s untouched bedroom.

There sat the alien plant—the only living thing Tim ever tended himself.

It had finally entered its growth cycle.

And Kon finally heard the confession decades overdue:

*“kon… my love.”*

"Please forgive any awkward phrasing—my English is limited, so this translation survived only by the grace of AI. I warmly welcome corrections!🥺🥺🥺

"If you'd like the original version, I've posted the Chinese text on my main page! Hope you enjoy~ 🦇"

This story began when I realized Kon and Tim march to different mortal drums. Such divergence in life's length breeds profound philosophical chasms. While Tim matured and silvered, Kon remained that restless youth. What of love? When one's affection has gained vintage complexity, the other still fumbles with love's ABCs.💞💞

So I wrote this vignette.

Robin J！He's soooo cute,righrt???

9：00 AM.克克肯又闯祸啦！

🌟 新系列同人图《星球日报的一天》正式上线！🌟🌟 New Fanart Series: *A Day at the Daily Planet* is LIVE! 🌟

所有图片均为本人原创绘制！希望你们能感受到那份办公室日常里的“超级”细节。如果你有幻想过超人的办公室生活or日常，也请在评论区和我分享吧！期待更多的评论！😺😺All artwork is originally created by me!** I hope you can feel those "super" details hidden in the office routine! **If you've ever imagined Superman's daily life (or day-to-day at the office!), share your thoughts in the comments below! Can't wait to read them!💕💕

事实上，这是我第一次使用Tumble上传我的作品，感觉是非常有趣的体验～😘关于tag/评论/转发/用语习惯甚至是大家喜欢用些什么emoji都请在评论区告诉我～（现在最重要的是我要去哪里寻找到同样喜欢DC的同好们QAQ我真的非常想找到你们）🌹🌹Actually, this is my first time uploading my work on Tumblr—it’s been such a fun experience! 😘 About tags, comments, reblogs, posting etiquette, or even what kinds of emojis you all love using—please tell me everything in the comments! (Right now, the most important thing is… where do I find fellow DC fans?! QAQ I really, really want to find you all!)