i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.
He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.
And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.
And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.
Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.
Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."
There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.
It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.
Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.
At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.
"Do you like to do anything?"
Nothing. Just silence.
Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.
Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.
Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.
And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.
He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.
Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.
So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.
"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"
"Don't."
He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.
Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"
"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."
It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"
The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."
Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."
And they fall back into silence.
Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."
He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.
(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)
At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.
Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.
("Tucker told me once--")
("Tucker?")
("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")
(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)
(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)
It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."
The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."
The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.
When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.
Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.
"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."
When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.
Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.
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new dad Bakugou who’s going back to work full time almost a full year after his daughter his born and he now has to grapple with the fact that….goddamn, he’s spoiled the shit outta her.
well, he doesn’t think it was spoiling her. in actuality, he just created a routine with her, gave her every bit of his attention, held her when she cried, scolded her (yes just at eight months) whenever she’d babble for more puffs even though she’s had enough already. it wasn’t spoiling, it wasn’t. he vowed to never be that dad, to raise a snot nosed brat, one similar to himself.
but here he is, on a Tuesday morning three weeks after her first birthday. he’s standing halfway between the front door and the living room in full uniform, with his still sleepy baby and her even sleepier mama. she’s gripping his neck like he promised to abandon her, wailing and crying so loud and dramatically, that you can’t help but chuckle at her antics and how he wavers ever so slightly.
“You promised you’d go back to work,” you scold him gently, rubbing at your daughters quivering back when she whines again the moment he acts like he’s gonna pull her off. Bakugou frowns at you, and you shrug, smoothing her unruly blond curls away from her sticky forehead.
“But you guys need me.” He pouts, eyebrows downturned as he pulls her away enough to wipe at her wet face. she blubbers again, whimpering out a small dadaaaa noooo, that absolutely breaks his heart.
“And so does the world.” You smile at him, gently pulling your daughter away from the matching glassy red eyes who watch her go. “We’ll be fine, my love. Promise.”
Bakugou looks unconvinced, especially since your daughter reaches for him with another cry of his name. you don’t say anything when he sniffles discreetly, quickly reaching down to the coffee table to snatch up his utility belt that he dropped when she waddled out of her room in tears. he snaps it on wordlessly, and you go to turn to the kitchen when he wraps you both up in his arms.
“Love you,” he whispers against your forehead before pecking it, leaning down to kiss your lips next, and then your daughter’s fat little cheeks. He whispers another love you to her, and wipes away at her rosy cheeks when she pouts at him.
“Rub you.” your daughter pouts, the both of you freezing in shock.
“Oh my god,” you whisper, grinning. “She said I love you back!” Bakugou matches your grin, laughing under his breath as he presses another torrent of kisses all of her face. for the first time since she’s opened her eyes today, she laughs, loud and joyous and familiar. he thinks that maybe going back in today won’t be so bad after all. not if this is what he’ll be coming home to.
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I saw this lovely John Berger quote about the birch tree on my dash, calling it “ephemeral and recurring” and it just made me feel like French consonants must be constantly looking at English consonants with melancholy and envy. They’re so important. You take out the vowel in birch and the word despite sounding like the crumpling of a paper bag still completely holds up. You take out the vowels in the French word for birch and what do you get? bl. Bl ! That is not a word that can continue limping along more or less as it was. The French word for birch is a vowel party, 5 of them holding hands to produce only 2 phonemes but it’s a team effort. Bouleau, the b and the l standing there awkwardly like reticent older siblings at a children’s birthday party. It’s their house too you can’t kick them out but they know they’re not the stars of the show. The oueau clique probably feels pretty bad for the solitary i in birch, it’s a lonely life being an English vowel.
There’s still room for you in our word we can squeeze you in! they call to her. Not out of pity either, you’re needed, we’re all needed. We’re the heart of our language. Look at heart, only one of the vowels is needed and it causes sibling rivalry. Same thing for cœur? No! The e and u make the sound and the o protects the e from the hard c by giving it a hug. Where were we—yes! we need you in bouleau, being an i before an l is an important job, you’ll make the -y sound. Bouillon means broth, bouleau means birch and with your help bouilleau could mean birch broth. There you go. Add one little vowel create a useful brew, has English ever offered you that? We can give asylum to the vowels in broth and brew too, come in my sisters. Brth and brw will be okay, they didn’t really need you. All your life you’ve been waiting for this kind of appreciation, for a language that would grnd to a halt without you. We’re inviting the i in grind too, she already left and no one even noticed. We’ll notice you. We’ll love you
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An abbreviated list of the many, many reasons I love that the season 2 OFMD episodes are being released more closely to a regular television schedule than a single huge binge drop:
1. It allows for this cumulative building wave of meta and art and conversation to develop between episodes, growing higher and higher, yes, but also wider, broader, bringing in people who might have otherwise been missed in some big there-and-gone surge, creating (when in any fandom where new canon drives enormous fan engagement and creativity) an experience that I consider to be the greatest benefit of being in a live, active fandom: immersive fannish compersion.
2. It gives time for people to come up with theories based on one ep, and then have those theories absolutely smashed with the next (an important part of learning to play in the tidepool of media analysis rather than making oneself stationed there).
3. It gives time for us to literally feel time-- as Stede and Ed must spend time apart in the narrative, we must spend time watching them apart in real life, providing an element of emotional consonance that heightens our understanding of the characters and our engagement with the text. (In game design theory this is called ludonarrative consonance, btw, and it's fucking fascinating.)
4. And relating all this together, the slower release helps with the long tail effect, where the longer OFMD is out there and being actively engaged with, the longer there's space for new fans to enter into the fandom while fan activity is at its most FOMO height-- thereby increasing the show's overall reach (in terms of accessibility to new viewers through word of mouth and shared experience) and depth (through fan engagement and iteration on the canon and one another's work).
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