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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The Gods are not trans allies.
The Gods are not trans-friendly.
The Gods do not ‘support’ queer people.
The Gods ARE trans. The Gods ARE queer.
The Gods are transgender, They are transsexual. ‘Trans’ means ‘beyond, across’.
The Gods are beyond gender. Beyond sex. Beyond flesh. Beyond normality and norms— thus, They are queer. They are trans. They are on the other side of gender, of sex— on the side we cannot even begin to understand.
The Gods are transsexual and transgender and queer not (only) within our human understanding of transness— They are not trans in the way we humans are trans.
But They are still trans. They are the original transness. The ultimate transsexuality.
Transness as a transition from a state to another state, from a form to another form— from Their divine form to one we humans can behold without being consumed by Their inherent queerness. From Their divinity to words we humans can attempt to understand and think of without being utterly lost in the enormity and infinity of the divine.
Transness as a journey, a constant state of evolution within the world— evolution of the world itself, for the Gods are the world, are beyond time, beyond space, yet constantly changing.
The Gods do not love trans worshippers despite their transness, despite their queerness. The Gods love trans worshippers for their transness. They love us because we are trans. Because we are queer.
As we defy norms, we become closer to Them— trans people are humans, mortals, but I firmly believe that there is something inherently holy in transition. To change yourself, to think the limits of the body and to alter your own flesh is to create, is to destroy. To understand how limitless the world is— how flesh and sex and gender are human things, social things, that are made by us and can be expended and transgressed— is to take a step towards the Gods.
The Gods love you. You are made in Their image. Or maybe— you make yourself in Their image. And that is beautiful.
(reminder that this is my vision of divinity, not a definite fact, even if i think there are a lot of things (in multiple cultures/religions) that point to the divine being beyond gender)
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these tags have been bothering me for a few days now. i understand wanting some private time at home with your partner, but can you not see that this is EXACTLY the attitude i'm talking about?
does your third housemate ALSO get an allotted time where you and your partner have to leave, or is it only for you? is this something you coordinate on days when your housemate is already independently making other plans, or are you just expecting to be able to kick them out of the house at will like this is a college dorm room?
this isn't a situation where you are three equal parties building a life, this is you and your partner treating someone else like a third wheel you wish would go away and a money bank to help you pay your bills. if that works for all parties involved then it's no skin off my nose, but can't you see that this is literally not at all the situation that i was describing? i'll make a very personal post about how it hurts when people act like my housemates would be justified in trying to get rid of me and alloromantic people will literally be like "this sounds great—as long as i can get rid of you!" like do y'all hear yourselves. do you actually see the words when aros post or is it just static for you.
this is the way people talk about their children, how they want their children out of the house so they can have some alone time. not the way you should be talking about a fellow adult who literally pays for and whose name is on the deed of the house you all live in. aro people aren't housepets.
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