Just a science and minecraft nerd, vibing

This is a man who is VIOLENTLY aware that when it comes to conservatives, he is a Muslim first, a Brown Man second, an Immigrant third, a Socialist fourth, and a human a very distant fifth, if considered at all. He was also a young adult during the Obama Years and will have seen Republicans rip Obama to shreds for wearing a tan suit instead of a dark one and use literally ANY excuse they could to try and degrade his image.

Her domain has always been... flexible. Not surprising, really, considering what it is. Textiles is such a broad category. Spinning and weaving and sewing, nålbinding and knitting and crochet, these are the obvious expressions.

Then the less obvious: her worshippers. Everyone who has been a crafter of textiles, which includes almost every woman in an agrarian society since the beginning of human history. Everyone who has given thanks for their clothes or blankets, everyone who has been grateful for a tent above their heads, everyone who has carried something in a sack. Everyone who has marveled at a finely woven tapestry, or written characters on silk, or painted on canvas. All of these are her followers, in one way or another.

And then, of course, there is the realm of metaphor. She is Fate with three faces, spinning and measuring and cutting the threads of life. She is the weaver of rainbows, of the clouds in the sky, of the Jade Emperor's majestic robes. She is the Spider Grandmother who wove the entire world.

happy 20 year anniversary of Neil banging out the tunes!

though every rat is special, it's a wonderful and unusual thing for their accomplishments to be remembered and cherished by so many people so many years later. we're all so fortunate to know about the rat who banged out the tunes!

thank you to all the people who sent me reference photos of their beloved rats for this piece!!! credits under the cut!

On my hands and knees in front of the king wasn't what I expected today.

Blacksmith, I want to correct. "Yes, your majesty." But I would like to live another day.

"Raise your head, there is no trouble here. I wish to reward you, in honesty." The king has a warmer and softer voice than I expected, but knowing that the kingdom is tied to his every beck and call makes me stand up on shaking legs, lowering my eyes to the ground. "Your designs have won us a war, young man."

Maybe the first part of his sentence didn't process fast enough. I don't even process whether or not I even know what designs he's talking about. Instead, I say, "I'm turning forty this year, your majesty."

"Hah!" His laugh shakes my nerves like a gong. "Is that so! You look very young, and I inadvertently made a mistake. Let me treat you to some good food; when you get to my age, you'll regret not eating better in your life."

The king never makes a single motion with his hands, yet several servants have left the retinue without a word. I stare at their wordless departure until the king pats me on the shoulder and my soul very nearly jumps out of my body.

"My company is competent, be at ease. We will eat within your home; we have much to discuss and very little time." His smile is large and welcoming. The king invites himself into my home as if it were the most natural thing to do.

As the Empire had expanded over the years, textbooks on Magic had made their way even into the sleepy seaside town of Amora. Sure, most folk here used the textbooks for decoration, a show of status or of their ties to a Mage, but magic remained here as it always has -- a mystery. Tomiris, and her mother, and all the women before her, had been the only Mages in Amora. And to this day, they remained so.

With the Empire's far-reaching nation-building infrastructure came the rise of clinics and schools as well. Tomiris found her duties dwindling. Her work had become fewer still as the Old Gods were forgotten, and the shrines she had once held ceremonies in were recycled into buildings for the Empire.

But something she still had were the children.

They came flocking to her for stories, for minor illusions, for coourful creatures that danced in firelight. They came at night, sometimes with their parents, and they all sat by the seaside while Tomiris cast flight on shells and summoned bioluminescent jellyfish closer to shore.

But the workings of Magic never evaded the Empire for long.

Soon enough, a man in royal-red robes came to one of the gatherings and watched her with an indecipherable look. When it was over, he came to her and said:

"Impressive. Tomiris, is it? I had not known there were Mages in Amora."

"I am a witch, sir. I am no Mage."

"By the laws of the Empire, no person may practice Magic without the explicit permission of the Imperator. Which can only be obtained, of course, by learning the proper way to use Magic at the Academy."

"Okay?" Tomoris asked, "I don't agree with your laws. And Amora was it's own city long before it was yours."

"Be that as it may," the man said, voice even still. From the corner of her eyes, Tomoris noticed men in armour walking closer, "We insist you come with us to the Capital to --"

"Learn Magic the proper way, I heard," Tomoris sighed, "I don't think I will, good sir."

"Guards --"

Tomoris pulled Magic to her, in the way only her mother and her mother before her had known to do.

Mages had learned Magic only in one way -- that of combat and of war and of expansion. But Magic was so much more than that: it was the gentle shift of sands, the warm cackle of fires, the pull or tides and the illusions of fairytales. No textbook of the Empire, not Mage of the Academy, had ever learned to call upon the seas for themselves.

Her body changed, lengthened in some places and shortened in others, as she her her hands became webbed and her lungs became gills.

"Fay Attorney!" An Ace Attorney-style game which has you go over fay contracts to decipher and correct their hidden catches through the riddles and doublespeak. Not only that, but if you study up, you can actually use the fay's own logic and tricks against them, giving your client the advantage. Should you fail, however, the consequences could prove anywhere from inconvenient to catastrophic. Likewise, the fey aren't very well known for losing gracefully, so they may try to sabotage you after the fact, ironically making things harder the better you perform.

Anyways, the further you go, the harder the catches become to spot and work around, until you eventually are forced to face your greatest opponents yet: the king and queen of the fay court. These two are masters of manipulation and trickery, to the point where it seems as though their contract is impossible to get out of... Aside from one tiny footnote. From there, everything falls into place, and you officially beat the fey king and queen! You brace for the worst... but the two simply laugh it off, impressed instead of offended that a mere mortal could defeat them, and rewarding you handsomely.

“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”

God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.

Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.

“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”

“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”

“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”

Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“My word, master Danny!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”

Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.

“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”

“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.

“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.

“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”

The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.

“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”

“Danny.”

“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.

“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.

Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”

Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…

“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”

“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.

“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”

The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.

“Done.”

“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”

“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”

“Very well.”

“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.

——

“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”

“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.

“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”

“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”

Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.

“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”

“Tt.”

Hi

This

Is

To keep

The pictures

Separate

Batman, dropping down from the ceiling: Red Hood

Goons, trembling in fear but standing up to fight: Shit… what’s the Bat doing here

Red Hood, aggressively: What are you doing here, old man?

Batman, pulling out a lunch box: You forgot your lunch in the cave *walks over and hands it to him before peppering his cheeks with kisses*

Red Hood: Oh my gosh, Pa! Stop! You’re trying to embarrass me on purpose! *pushing Batman away and blushing under his mask*

Batman, taking out his grappling hook: No idea what you mean. Stay safe. Bye *leaves*

Goons, stunned: Whoa… boss, you are so red

Red Hood: Shut up! No I’m not! *shoves helmet on to cover his blush*

——

Tim, squished in a chair with Bruce: … so tight… so uncomfortable…

Bruce, typing away on his computer: That’s your fault. It was a perfectly fine chair with only me in it, then you suddenly came

Tim, squirming: Yes, but…

Bruce: Want me to move? You’ll have the chair to yourself

Tim, practically in Bruce’s lap: No

——

Bruce, watching TikToks in his room: Hmm *watching a video about Velcro babies*

Bruce, looking up: Hrn…

Jason and Duke are playing Sorry!. Dick is allowing Cass to adorn his hair with accessories. Steph is painting her nails. Damian is snuggled into his side, drawing. Tim is asleep across his lap. All of this was done on his bed

——

During an interview

Bruce: -So I believe that it would be best for us to leave that land alone for the native wildlife.

Bruce: Taking and destroying such precious land for a profit is disgusting, and I think Lexcorp should really start to think of the environment more

Bruce: Anything to add, baby?

Damian, half asleep on Bruce’s hip: … fuck Lex Luther

Bruce: …

Bruce: Well… you heard him

——

Tim, high on morphine from a procedure: Dad…?

Bruce, carding his finger through Tim’s hair: Yes, baby?

Tim, starting to cry: Daddy… I have something t-to tell you!

Bruce, panicking: Tim? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?? Do you feel pain? Are you-

Tim: I-I like girls a-and guys!

Bruce: What?? Oh… oh sweetheart. I already knew that

Tim: Do you… Do you still love me??

Bruce: More than all the stars in the sky. Why don't we try to get some sleep, hmm?

——

Reporter, running up to Batman: Mister Batman! Mister Batman

Batman: … *debating on escaping*

Reporter, holding up a picture of Signal: The world wants to know... is Signal yours?

Batman: …

Batman: What’s that in his chest?

Reporter: The symbol? … I guess it looks like a bat

Batman: Okay. Now stop asking me stupid questions. Use your brain.

Batman: I own the bat. Why else would anyone wear it? *disappears*

——

Steph: Hey, B man

Steph: I want a piggyback ride

Bruce: To where?

Steph, tense: Nowhere. Yes or no, man

Bruce: ? *wants to ask if she’s ok, but she’s got a vibe about her*

Bruce, in a joking tone: What’s in it for me, toots?

Steph, relaxing at not being interrogated: Undivided physical contact with me, your lifelong dream

Bruce: Deal

——

Alfred, strained: I love you very much

Bruce, searching his face: …

Bruce, genuinely confused: When did you get so bad at lying?

——

Duke, delirious from food poisoning: I… I can see a light

Damian: Shush, Thomas, you’re staring straight at the lamp

Duke: G-Grandma Wayne? Is that you?

Bruce: You’ve never met your Grandma. Stay with me, Duke!

——

Cass, sending Bruce a fit check video: -and then the boots you bought me last time

Bruce, texting back: Is that my jacket?

Cass: Nope

Bruce: I’ve been looking for that. You know I’ve been looking for that

Cass: No clue what you’re talking about dad

Bruce: Princess…

——

Bruce: I’m in Stephanie’s Hulu

Dick: We both know you have enough money to buy the company itself

Dick: Why are you on Steph’s Hulu

Bruce: I dunno, but I am

Bruce: She made an account for me, and she changes my profile picture every day

——

Duke: We’re supposed to talk about our emotions

Damian: Like what a healthy family is supposed to do?

Duke: Yes!

Bruce: Yes, we’re all in this together

Bruce: Like a hostage situation

——

Texting

Tim: Daddy-o, where are you

Bruce: I’m currently at the mall

Tim: You hate the mall?

Tim: Whore you with

Bruce: Please use an apostrophe

Bruce, sending a zoomed-in forehead pic of Stephanie grinning: Guess

Tim: You ever think it’s weird how my ex-girlfriend has integrated into our family?

Bruce: No

——

Alfred, sorting through a mountain of bouquets: …

Bruce, popping his head in: What are you doing? Why are there so many flowers?

Alfred: They’re all for you, Master Bruce

Alfred: I suppose someone is trying to woo you

Bruce: Oh…

Bruce: So what are you doing?

Alfred: Putting them away

Alfred: One pile for the wilted and dead. Another for my compost bin, and a third to donate to the women’s shelter

Bruce: …I don’t get flowers?

Alfred: No one is good enough for you, my boy

Alfred: I’ll buy you flowers later

Bruce: Okey. Yay <3

——

Bruce, on the couch, cuddling with Damian for the past two hours and watching Gray Ghost: *looks up when Tim enters the room* Hi, love

Tim: Can I-

Damian: No!

Damian: You had Baba all to yourself yesterday while I was at school

Damian: He’s mine today

Tim: Jealous bitch-

Bruce: Tim!

——

Cass: You okay?

Bruce, visibly on the verge of tears: Yeah *emotionless*

Cass: You are a lying liar who lies a lot

——

Bruce, rubbing his temples: Urg…

Jason: Whoa, what’s up with you?

Bruce: I’ve got this insistent headache that won’t go away… It’s killing me

Jason: Shit… did you get poisoned?

Jason: What was the last thing you ate?

Bruce, thinking: …

Bruce, thinking harder: …

Jason: …

Jason: When was the last time you ate something?

Bruce, thinking: …

Bruce, thinking harder: …

Jason: Dad! *dragging him to the kitchen*

——

Steph: *trips and falls on her face* Ack!

Bruce, desperately trying not to laugh: Oh, gumdrop *helping her up*

Steph: You sound incredibly condescending *allows Bruce to brush her off and hug her*

Bruce, hiding his face in Steph’s hair so he doesn’t laugh: No, of course not

——

Dick: Strongest immune system? You don’t count

Bruce: Hmm

Bruce: Could be Duke. He keeps eating shit off the ground, and we’re in Gotham

Duke: Hey!

Dick: True, it’s probably radioactive

Duke: I’m literally fine! You guys are mean!

——

Bruce: Hi, I’m Bruce, and when I was eight years old, my parents and I were coming back from the movie that I begged to go to on my birthday, when they were shot and brutally killed in front of me in a botched mugging

Bruce: I then had to stay with their dead and cooling bodies for hours in an alley way, covered in their blood, holding their hands, with people walking past and seeing me but not calling anyone, until the police finally arrived in the morning where they continued to ignore me for hours and kept me sitting in a pool of my parents blood, and when they actually started talking to me the first thing they did was ask if I was the one who killed them

Bruce: And people till this day question why my parents decided to go down Crime Alley, but it literally wasn’t called that back then. It was just Park Row. The crime was the murder of my parents. That’s why it’s now called Crime Alley, literally because of the crime of my parents’ murder. Their deaths fundamentally changed all of Gotham

Bruce: And I brought jumbo sour gummy worms

Duke: … Damn, coming out with the big guns right away

Cass: I told you this wasn’t the right ‘mood game’ to play in this family, especially

Dick: Now, if I follow up with my parents dying in front of me, it sounds like I’m copying you

Dick: Also, you being there made it significantly better for me

Jason: That’s why you gotta have more than one dipshit

Dick: I do have more than one! That’s just the first one

Steph: Wait, that’s seriously why it’s called Crime Alley?

Steph: Damn…

Bruce: I tried going for the least traumatizing thing that’s happened to me… I guess

Tim: I’m just glad you didn’t start the cult story; that one scared me

Bruce: … which cult?

Tim: ?

Tim: The super scary one that you were telling me about

Bruce: …

Bruce: That actually doesn’t narrow it down for me

Damian: Baba, the fact that there are so many that you don’t know is truly worrying

Cass: I’ve killed some clut members…

Steph: Inspiring Cass, truly

Cass, shrugging: Felt like I needed to say something

Cass: Can I have that as my thing?

Steph: No

Jason: We’ve all killed a few cult members before, you’re not special

Damian, nodding along: Yes, it’s quite easy

Duke: The fact that you’re not saying anything against that statement is concerning, Bruce

Bruce: Technically… I only indirectly caused their deaths… mostly

Dick, sneaking a hand into the bowl: I’m learning so much about you

Bruce, smacking his hand away: Don’t eat the gummy worms before anyone else has gone!

——

Bruce: I promise to rest for at least a week

Bruce: No, I swear it. On my life

Alfred: Master Bruce, you are suicidal in the highest degree

Alfred: Swear on anything else

——

Bruce, giving Dick something he hasn’t had since childhood: Here

Dick, ecstatic: Whoa! How’d you remember I liked this?

Bruce: Photographic memory. Total recall, chickadee, remember?

Dick: No, but you obviously did *kneels over laughing and slapping his knee*

——

Jason: I’m gonna torture you

Bruce: I told you, I didn’t even eat the last brownie

Bruce: I'm only a calorie deficit for a photoshoot

Jason: I’m gonna gather every single person you know

Jason: And we’re gonna form a human circle around you

Bruce: Where is this going?

Jason: Then we’ll just shout compliments at you! And they’ll be meaningful and deep, not surface-level!

Bruce, horrified: Don’t you fucking dare

——

Bruce: Damn, Alfred is inquiring about upping my anti psychotics

Dick: Ha, loser

Bruce: Bitch I’ll make him up yours too, don’t test me

Jason: Since when do you two need psych meds?

Bruce, looking over at Dick: Uh

Dick, sweating: Umm, you know, it doesn’t really matter

——

Duke: You ever notice how a swarm of bats always follows you?

Bruce: Hm?

Duke: Like, when you're bat-manning. Bats come out of the woodwork

Duke: It really adds to your whole aura

Bruce: I… I don’t think that’s a thing

Duke: It is

——

Jason, angry: Why do you keep walking away from me when I’m talking to you?!

Bruce, refusing to look at him: You talk with your hands

Jason: …

Jason: Fucking so?!

Bruce: So.

Bruce: You’re carrying your gun. You keep waving it in my face

Bruce: I can handle a lot of things from you, but not that

Bruce: Never that

——

Bruce, sick: Oh, it’s a cold, cruel world out here

Steph: I can ask Alfie to make you hot chocolate

Bruce: No, he makes it with water instead of milk

Bruce: It’s nasty

——

Alfred, trying out a new bread recipe: What do you think, Master Bruce?

Alfred: It is made from whole wheat flour and a small amount of cornmeal. It also contains oats, chia seeds, flax seeds, and hemp seeds. I also took the liberty of adding walnuts, almonds, and pistachios.

Bruce, chewing on the grainy and crumbly piece of bread, close to tears: I feel like a bird…

Bruce: Is this punishment? Did I do something wrong?

Alfred, offended: It’s healthy

Bruce, already crying: What did I do??? I don’t like this! *crumbs flying everywhere*

——

Batman: Between hurtling into traffic at 180 mph and changing this song

Batman: I will change this song

Dick: Dad! Both hands on the wheel!

——

Bruce: I so sleepy

Alfred: Go upstairs and take a nap

Bruce: Noooo. I won’t be sleepy if I have to move

Alfred: You can’t nap here, you’ll get a crick in your neck

Bruce: Everyone has to make sacrifices

——

Bruce, pale: Urgh…

Jason: Damn, Pa, what’s up? You lookin' fucking horrible

Bruce: I’m supposed to hang out with Cass and Damian today…

Dick: And…? What’s that gotta do with you looking sick

Tim: Oh, I get it. It’s an anxiety thing

Jason: Huh

Bruce: It’s just… leading up to an outing is always the worst. The impending sense of doom is very strong

Bruce: I know I’m gonna have fun when I get there, and I’ll enjoy myself. But I wanna cancel, I feel like throwing up, and I’m so fucking nervous

Jason: Yo… these are your children you’re hanging out with

Bruce: I know, you’d think my body would get the memo and chill out, but no

Tim: Yeah, I get it all the time

——

Texting

Bruce: Oh my gosh, why is nobody answering their fucking phones

Bruce: I’ve called you all a million fucking times

Bruce: What do I pay your stupid ass phone plans for

Bruce: Someone, come pick me up

Bruce: NOW

Bruce: I just got hit by a car pedestrian style

Bruce: I’m so fucking embarrassed

Several people typing at once

——

Tim: You ever think it’s weird how we can’t see Dad’s face when he’s wearing the cowl?

Dick: Hm?

Jason: Oh, the shadow thing?

Tim: Yeah!

Steph: It freaked me out the first time it happened

Steph: Like, no matter where I moved or what I did, I couldn’t see his face

Damian: Yes, I was… shaken the first time, when I could only see his white eyes peering at me from the shadows

Damian: His silence and stealth are unimaginable

Dick: Oh yeah… I guess we’ve all gotten used to it, huh?

Tim: I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it most of the time

Jason: Pa makes himself scary, but he’s oblivious to the fact that he' didn’t do that to make him scary 's scary without trying sometimes

Steph: You think it’s enchanted?

Dick: Like the cape?

Tim: Oh my gosh, the fucking cape!

Tim: I tried to figure out the logistics of that thing and almost gave myself an aneurysm

Jason: I went nuts the first time he became a blob in front of me

Steph: Love when he does that

Steph: Is it weird to call a grown man cute?

Damian: It makes me wonder where Father sourced his items

Dick: Dad makes them with regular fabric, believe it or not. He’s been making them since before I came around

Jason: Then what the fuck??

Steph: This is giving me a headache

Tim: Think he’d tell us if we asked?

Damian: Baba? No

Dick: True

——

Bruce, walking into the theater room: What’s everyone-

Dick: Shhh!

Steph: Yeah, man, the movie’s about to start

Cass: Been waiting on this release for two years

Duke: My hands are shaking. Literally, I’m dying

Jason: I’m only here because they forced me-

Tim: Shut up! You’ve been waiting for this since forever, just like the rest of us

Damian: Quiet, heathens! It’s starting!

Watching the movie silently in awe, then Bruce comes on screen

Cass: … what

Tim: Dad, you need to start suing someone cause they took your likeness

Bruce, raising an eyebrow: Thanks, but no. That’s me, sweetheart

Bruce: I am famous, remember?

Dick: When did this happen?!

Bruce: A while ago? Dickie you were there

Dick: …

Dick: I have actually nothing to say in defense of myself. I thought it was just a regular shoot and fell asleep

Jason: You’re such a fucking idiot

Steph: What the fuck, man?!

Damian: Baba, you should have told us you were going to star in such an important movie for this generation

Bruce: It’s literally on my calendar

Bruce: You’d know that if any of you bothered to look at it

Duke: Do you have other movies and shows lined up?

Bruce: *shrugs* Check the calendar

——

Tim, angrily: I can take care of it myself. I don’t need your help

Bruce, rolling his eyes and so over it: Sure thing, burger boy, I’ll leave it in your capable, greasy little hands

Tim, offended: What?! Burger boy?! Greasy little hands?! *shrill and high-pitched voice*

Bruce: Hey, you’re the one who named yourself after a fast food restaurant

——

Damian, trying to sneak out through the front door: …

Bruce, walking by: Ah ah *snaps fingers and points upstairs* Go

Damian: Ugh! *planning to sneak out the window*

Bruce: Don’t even fuckin think about it.

Damian: How did you-

Bruce: Oh, please. Do you see how many siblings you have? I’ve seen it all

Alfred: And done it all too

——

Steph, walking into the library: Whoa, what the fuck is happening?

Cass, actually on the verge of tears: Dad is ignoring me

Bruce, reading peacefully on a nearby couch: …

Steph: No way, B-man would never purposely ignore us when we’re not being shits. Especially not you

Bruce, turning his head and looking surprised: Oh, hello, girls

Bruce, taking out his ear plugs cause he was overstimulated earlier: Honey, Cassandra, hello. When did the two of you get here?

Bruce, looking at Cass, concerned: Are you alright, princess?

Cass, completely embarrassed: Peachy. Let’s go *tugging Stephanie out*

Steph, elated and laughing: Super assassin who notices everything did notice that-!

Bruce, confused: Hrn? Oh well. *puts earplugs back in*

——

Dick: Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving the country for two weeks?

Bruce, holding his luggage: Well, hello to you too, Richard. Yes, my plane ride was fine, I’m good, how’re you?

Dick: Cut the shit. You can’t just go missing like that

Dick: What if Gotham needed you or something?

Bruce: I wasn’t missing

Bruce: I told the people who needed to know

Dick: I-

Bruce: Besides, you haven’t talked to me in a week. Why would I tell you?

Bruce: Did you realize you needed me for something? Is that the only reason why you reached out and noticed I was gone?

Dick: That’s not-

Bruce: Dick. I just got home. Before we start another screaming match, can I see my other children first?

Bruce: I’d like to see Damian and Tim while I’m still in a good mood

Dick: … mhm

——

Tim: Hey, Dad-

Bruce: Not now, child number three

Tim, looking confused: Child number- *muttering to himself*

Bruce: Duke, Damian, and Cassandra are causing a ruckus

Bruce: If I don’t intervene now… people will die

Tim: The fuck are they doing?

——

Bruce: Alfie, I got a paper cut *holds up finger*

Bruce: See? It’s bleeding

Alfred, very serious: Oh my, that’s quite serious

Alfred: Shall I bring out the big guns? Dinosaur Band-Aids?

Bruce, also very serious: Yes, dinosaurs are very necessary

——

Batman, jumping from roof to roof during patrol: …

Marco, a seven-year-old boy who lives nearby: Mister Batman, Sir! Hello!

Batman: Hrn *jumps down* Marco

Marco: Oh, yay! You remember me! That’s good

Batman: Are you safe?

Marco: Yup! I just wanted to give you this! *holds up drawing* Mama said you’d really like it, so I did my best

Batman, gently taking the paper and exchanging it for a lollipop: I do. Thank you

Marco: Ooo, candy! Thank you, Mister Batman! Have a good day- I mean, night fighting crime! *runs away waving*