#..... going overkill with an ask? huh?? why would you ever say that??? .........
Note
What if we were to give our boy Fakey the biggest cake imaginable and dare him to eat the entire thing?
I’m most likely underestimating his appetite, but it’s certainly an interesting thing to test out
......... yummy 😋
#he would like to thank you for the generous meal but unfortunately he will be in a food-based coma for the next several days.#but. well. i think he won here.#my art#pizza tower#pizza tower peppino#pizza tower fake peppino#pizza tower noisette#..... going overkill with an ask? huh?? why would you ever say that??? .........
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He’s Just Not That Into You
pairing: jordan li x reader
summary: a hopeless romantic, you keep looking for love in all the wrong places, with all the wrong guys. that is, until you meet jordan li, who takes pity on you and tries to help you learn when a guy just isn’t into you.
gif credit: artemidosgifs
“You good?”
"Huh?" Dazed and drifting, you look up from your incredibly important task of peeling off the label for the worst tasting artisanal beer ever created.
You quickly remember why you focused on the task in the first place. The lighting at this party sucks. It's mostly dim, to try and hide all the unsavory things happening in every corner of the house. The brightest bits of it are all flashing. Neon blue. Neon red. Neon green. As if anyone has ever looked good in neon green lighting. That plus the never-ending movement of people dancing is enough to make you sick.
"Are you good or are you starting to tweak?" Your eyes adjust enough to see who's talking and you sit up straighter. Jordan Li. Number #2.
She's wearing her ever present scowl that makes you study extra hard in Brink's class. You don't ever want to be in the position to have to ask for clarification on an assignment or further guidance. Brink's so busy being renowned that he's a pretty absent teacher, if you're not one of his favorites. Everything menial falls to Jordan.
"I'm good! Totally good. Just vibing, y'know."
Jordan stares down at you, looks back out onto the sea of partygoers, "What vibe do you think you're matching?"
“Excuse me?”
"You've been sitting here for almost twenty minutes. You've barely moved. Did you take something?"
"No! I.... I didn't take anything. I'm just enjoying the atmosphere."
Jordan rolls her eyes, takes the beer bottle from your hand, and then takes your hand itself. She pulls you to your feet, easy, despite the way you go limp at the last second to try and stay seated. Without a word she begins to pull you through the crowd. Bewildered, you follow.
She doesn't stop till you're outside on the porch. Surprisingly, no one else is lingering. But the air has a chill that's pretty biting for an early day in fall. You take a deep breath. You hadn't realized how loud the music really was. How overwhelming every smell. The itch that crawled across your skin with each jostle of a body coming too near.
"Yeah, you look like you were really enjoying the atmosphere." Jordan drawls, leaned up against the railing, observing you.
Your first instinct was to say 'fuck you' to that, obviously. But at the last second you remember she is your TA and is probably doing all the actual grading for every assignment you turn in.
You force a smile, "Thank you. Guess I was feeling pretty anxious."
"What are you even doing here?"
"Should... I mean, I was... invited? If that's what you're asking. Although I think crashing parties is pretty typical college stuff, even if I wasn't-"
“Not what I meant.” Jordan interrupts, “I mean you don’t usually go to parties. I never see you at any of them.”
“Maybe we just run in different circles.”
“Not really. You’re in the top ten now. What did you jump to, number 6?”
“Seven, actually.”
“Really? Well, won’t be long. Number 6 is a dick. He’ll be easy to knock out with the type of stats you’re pulling this year.”
Somehow, this compliment bewilders you more than anything. Jordan must see it on your face, because she rolls her eyes again.
“I keep an eye on the competition. Even if you are just a sophomore.”
“Okay, Junior.” You narrow your eyes at her. She narrows hers back, which feels like overkill, because she was already glaring.
“So, what are you doing here?”
“Did they hire you to be the bouncer for this party?”
“Jesus, ‘m just making conversation. You looked like you were gonna hurl in there. What? Did your friends drag you here then ditch you?”
“My friends would never do that. That violates the party safety rule. Arrive together, leave together.”
“Oh of course.” She says, nodding in a way that feels sarcastic.
“I actually came without my friends.” You say, standing up straighter. Proud of yourself for stepping out of your shell even if it ended on a sour note.
“You did?” Jordan raises an eyebrow. You deflate a little at the shocked tone. Even your TA thinks you’re lame.
“Well…. I was supposed to meet someone here. But they… I dunno, I must’ve missed them. Or whatever.”
“Who were you supposed to meet?”
You hesitate for a second, but they impatiently gesture for you to go on. So, begrudgingly you admit to, “Uuuuh… Andre?”
“Andre?” In the blink of an eye they shift, and take a step closer. As if he wants you to see the disbelief on his face as clearly as possible. “How do you know Andre?”
“What happened to we run in the same circle?” You snap back. “Andre’s top ten.”
“Andre’s a fucking nepo baby.” Jordan scoffs
“Aren’t you friends?” You frown.
“Andre barely shows up to class, he knows why he’s top ten, trust me.” Jordan says. “Andre invited you?”
“Yes, Andre invited me. We were at the club last week and you know…talked.”
“You were at the club? You’re changing it up like crazy this year, huh L/N?”
“Lot of good it’s doing me.” You sigh. You twist the sleeve of your top, wrinkling the fabric. You’d spent hours picking out the perfect outfit that looked like you weren’t trying too hard, but brought out all your best features.
Jordan’s face twists, you’d almost mistake it for sympathy, “Did you see Andre at all tonight?”
“Did he come here with you?”
“Would you like me to lie or tell you the truth?”
You sigh, moving to sit down on the porch steps, emotionally and socially exhausted. “It’s okay, I already know the answer.”
A moment of silence before Jordan moves to sit beside you. He offers back up the beer he took from you earlier, “You look like you could use a drink.”
“Eh, you have it. If you’re not a germaphobe. Thanks for rescuing me.”
Jordan shrugs, takes a sip and almost spits it right back out, “God it tastes like fucking piss.”
“You weren’t very nice to me during the rescue, so you didn’t deserve a warning.”
“Well fuck me, I guess.” He laughs, staring at you. He let’s out a sigh of his own, “So which line did he use?”
“Huh?”
“What did Andre say to you?”
“He didn’t use a line.” You protest.
“Andre doesn’t know how to do anything but use a line. Wait! Lemme guess,” Jordan looks you up and down before glancing at a few rings on your hand. “Were you wearing those?”
You stare back at him.
“Well?”
“Yes, I was, why?”
“Did he come up to you with one of them and ask if you dropped it?”
“.....Maybe. I repeat, why?” You ask, stomach twisting.
“Cause he slipped it off your finger with his powers so he’d have an opening. It’s his go to for girls that look shy. Seen it a million times.”
“Oh, well, that’s lovely, actually. Fuck me!” You groan, laying back against the steps and throwing your hands over your face. “You’re really good at comforting people, did you know that?”
“I’ve been told to work on it.”
“Clearly not enough.”
“Just didn’t want you to fall for the bullshit any more than you already have.”
You scrub your face harshly, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat. “Sorry. Do you like apples? I can put a nice shiny one on your desk Monday morning as a thank you for the solid.”
“Are you about to cry?” Jordan asks, bewildered.
“No.”
“Over Andre Anderson?”
“No!” You sit up, glaring at him. He glares back. “Not exactly. It’s just… I don’t put myself out there a lot. So it sucks. That I tried… and all I got was a guy who fed me a line he’s used a million different times on a million different girls, who then ditched me at a party he invited me to. I should’ve just fucking stayed home.”
You sniffle and then remember who you’re actually talking to and how awkward it’s going to be to see their face Monday morning for class if you keep spilling your guts. You stand up abruptly, already planning on apologizing for whatever you said while you were “drunk” tonight. You’re opening your mouth to make your excuses, already taking steps away from the stairs when Jordan reaches out, grabbing you gently by the wrist.
“Wait! I’m… sorry, I mean-”
“Why are you sorry?” You sniff, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I could’ve… I could’ve been nicer. About telling you. About Andre.” Jordan pulls you to sitting back down beside him, slowly, so you can pull away if you really wanted to.
“It’s okay. I should’ve known better.” You say quietly.
“Hey, no. I made it sound like he’s super obvious about it but he’s honestly pretty smooth. His only hobbies are picking up girls and cocaine. He could make… fucking, I dunno, Ellen Ripley blush if he had the prep time! It’s really not your fault.” The comment surprises a wet laugh out of you and Jordan smiles, bumping your shoulders together.
“Thanks, but he probably was obvious. I just… don’t see stuff like that coming very well.” You laugh bitterly.
“What do you mean?”
“I apparently just can’t tell for shit when a guy is actually into me! Or just… entertaining himself.” You sigh.
You and Jordan sit in silence for a second. You have no clue what’s going on in his head. You see him tapping his finger on the beer bottle, the sound of his rings the only noise for a moment.
“I could help you.”
“Help me what?”
“I could teach you how to spot when a guy is just being an asshole or when he’s serious about you. So this doesn’t happen again.” Jordan shrugs, taking another swallow of the beer, flinching again at the taste.
“Piss kink or short term memory loss?”
“Offer retracted.” Jordan laughs.
“Why are you offering in the first place?”
Jordan shrugs, looking out in the distance, “You’re… cool, y’know. Think of it as a welcome to the top ten gift. You’re only gonna get more and more attention now that you’re there. You’ll need to be able to sniff out bullshit or you’ll get eaten alive. No offense.”
“I’ve been in the top ten for the last six months.” You scowl.
“Mazel tov.”
“Dick.” You scoff, fighting back another laugh. You and Jordan make eye contact and both lose the battle, laughing together.
You take a deep breath once the fit passes, “This isn’t a top ten humiliation ritual of initiation thing, right?”
“I’m way too busy to waste my time doing stupid shit like that.” Jordan says, familiar glare falling back onto his face.
“Sorry, rough night, had to ask.” You say sheepishly. “Offer still open?” You smile, extending your hand out for a handshake.
“Yeah, offers still open, L/N.” Jordan rolls his eyes, but he does shake your hand.
“So, number’s one pretty obvious but we have to establish the basics because you told me you were hopeless.” Jordan sips her chocolate milkshake.
“Didn’t use the word hopeless, but sure.” You mutter, tossing a fry into your mouth and frowning at the lack of flavor. “Hit me.”
“If he calls off plans with you all the time he’s not interested. If he doesn’t give you as much heads up as humanly possible before he has to cancel a plan or bail then he might actually hate you.”
“You’re exaggerating.” You scoff, shaking extra salt onto your fries.
Jordan reaches over, stealing one of your now delicious fries to dip it into her milkshake. “It’s a type of power play. Too many reasons to name why a guy might feel the need to pull something like that but we don’t wanna get too complicated. All you need to do is memorize the red flags and run when you see them.”
“Okay…. follow up question, what would you consider to be ‘all the time’?”
“If you just started seeing each other and he cancels two dates in a row without desperately trying to make it up to you he doesn’t give a shit.” Jordan steals and dips another of your fries.
“What about emergencies? Like… I dunno, a funeral? What if his Aunt died? So he cancels that one date. Then the next one he tries to plan his car breaks down or something, you know?”
“He should call an uber and get to the fucking location of the date come hell or high water. That’s what a guy who likes you is gonna do. Don’t over complicate, L/N.”
“Oh and you don’t think you’re over-complicating the process of eating my fries?” You smack at her hand as it reaches for your plate for the umpteenth time during this lunch. “You could have ordered fries. Why didn’t you order fries?”
“Didn’t want any until I saw yours.” She tries again but you see the movement coming and block her hand, again. You did not notice the second, slightly sneakier hand that does successfully carry out the theft.
“Did you just juke me over a fry?
“Yeah, and I won.”
You toss a fry at her and laugh when she manages to catch it with her mouth. Asshole.
You sit on the corner of Jordan’s desk, watching as he finishes up some last minute work that Brink asked him to do before heading out. You’d offered to meet back up later but he just shook his head and said it wouldn’t take long.
“What if he’s just a private person?” You ask, kicking your feet lightly.
Jordan looks up from his laptop and frowns at you, “Why are you trying to invent exceptions to the rules? The rules are there to help you. Can you say that for me, L/N? Can you say the rules are there to help me?”
“The rules are there to help me.” You repeat back, mocking their tone.
“Thank you.” Jordan smirks at you, “Like I said, if he’s hiding your relationship from the world then he’s not serious about you. He should be introducing you to people. You should be on his social media. People should not be shocked you exist when meeting you. All that bullshit.”
“And if they’re a private person?” You challenge.
Jordan pushes away his laptop, turning to face you. “Fuck me. The types of guys you’re gonna be around as a hero are all gonna be doing the same stuff as you. There’s gonna be a certain level of our life that’s always in the spotlight. Minimum of two posts a week if he’s constantly posting in general.”
“I don’t post very much.” You counter.
“You should be posting more. Especially as a top ten. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be number 6 right now. You need to be more active on socials.” Jordan gives you a look before going back to typing. Two weeks ago that look would have put you on the verge of tears. Now you roll your eyes.
“I’ll think about it.”
“It was an order as your TA, actually.”
“Oh god, an order? I’m shaking in my boots.” You tease, playfully kicking his chair.
“That just knocked your essay from a B- to a C, congratulations.” Jordan quips.
“You were gonna mark my essay a B-, you dick? You know damn well I don’t turn in B- work. Who do you think-”
The rest of the afternoon is lost to playful outrage. The papers get graded late. Yours comes back an A+. No one besides you has gotten a grade of + anything since Jordan became TA.
“Okay, so this is one with a grey area.” Jordan says.
“Oh no.”
“Shut up. If he never gets jealous that’s a red flag.”
“But-” You sit up from where you’re laid out on the blanket you threw on the ground to better soak in the last warm rays of September sun.
“I am not saying go out with some overly possessive fucking maniac.” Jordan cuts you off.
“Be specific, Jordan. You can’t give me rules with built in exceptions. I’ll fail. Is that what you want? You want me to fail, Jordan? That’s messed up-”
“Shut up-” Jordan laughs, shaking her head. “Listen to me, if a guy never gets jealous he just doesn’t care at all. The most namaste, enlightened dude on the planet will get jealous in the right situation. I’m not saying tolerate anything crazy. It’s just good if he like… responds, when you say you’re going to study alone with another dude at 9pm, in the guy’s dorm... while his roommate is gone.”
“Is studying alone with another dude, in his dorm while his roommate is gone, okay as long as it ends before 9pm?”
Jordan rips out grass from the ground and tries to sprinkle it onto your face. You put up a force-field and laugh when she sticks her tongue out.
“He’s gotta give you his full attention. When he’s with you, he’s with you. Everyone gets distracted. But if his head is always somewhere else, every time you see him, he just doesn’t like you.” Jordan swipes at your head, fast enough to be a challenge to dodge but not hard enough to hurt you had the hit connected.
You go in for a kick yourself and he practically twirls out of the way. You try twice more, managing to evade his own hits just barely.
Breathlessly, you gesture for a time out and Jordan sighs, “We gotta get you better at hand to hand.”
“That’s what my shields are for.”
“The way you use your shields is really good. You’ve gotten a lot more creative this year. It’s why you’ve been jumping ranks so fast. You’re powerful.”
The earnest tone he uses makes you lift up from the hunched over position of misery on your knees, “You think so?”
“Well…. yeah.” He clears his throat. “But you can’t get lazy. What if someone wears you out and you don’t have any energy left for them? No more shields. You need to be able to fight.”
“If I don’t have any energy left for my shields and my only option left is hand to hand combat, respectfully, it’s my time.”
Jordan rolls his eyes, “Break’s over. Back in position, stay on your toes more so it’s easier to move, okay?”
You’re about to get back into form when you hear calls of Jordan’s name from across the arena. You turn and see Luke and Cate coming over, wide grins on their faces. You give them a small wave and they both wave back, incredibly eager.
You’ve always been friendly with one another but the strength of enthusiasm is… strange. Enough to make you blink in surprise.
“Thought you said you were super booked up this week doing stuff for Brink? Absolutely no free time.” Cate asks, staring Jordan down.
“This isn’t free time. I can’t slack on hand to hand combat training. It’s important.” Jordan stares Cate down even harder.
“Why didn’t you ask me?” Luke asks casually.
“Jordan saw my form in a video I just posted and apparently it was ‘despicable’ and ‘the most insane way he’d ever seen anyone do that before’. He rushed over to show me what the ‘right way to do it is’. Control freak.” You fake a cough as you say the last part.
“You were gonna hurt your back!”
“Super healing.”
“Super herniated disc.” Jordan quips back and you scoff, shoving him.
He shoves you back with an eye roll, fighting back a smile.
“How ungentlemanly of you.” You gasp. A shift, and she shoves you again making you laugh, “and unladylike!”
“You shoved me first!”
“Children, please try and be civil we’re in public.” Luke cuts in and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.
It’s easy to get lost in your own world when you’re with Jordan. You turn to be politely facing your classmates and not just Jordan, wearing a sheepish smile.
“Stop teasing them. They’re cute.” Cate smiles.
“Anyways, you guys need something?” Jordan asks.
“We can’t just hang out? Are you trying to get rid of your best friends?” Luke asks.
“Yes.”
“Jordan!” You bump her with your elbow.
“Okay, okay. We’ll leave you alone. Wanna grab lunch with us after though?” Cate asks, looping her arm through Luke’s.
“You feeling up to lunch, L/N?” Jordan looks over at you.
With three unexpected pairs of eyes on you, you fluster. “If you go easy on me for the rest of training, yes.”
“Not a chance.” Jordan snorts. “We’ll be there though. Now scram. L/N needs a lot of help.”
“No, I fucking do not!” You protest.
The two of you don’t notice Luke and Cate walking away trading looks.
“When you don’t know really know anything about him, it’s not a good sign.” Jordan tilts the bowl of popcorn towards you.
“And what do you mean, specifically, by knowing anything about him?” You ask, taking some pieces and throwing them back.
“Has has ever shared his feelings? Talked about his personal life? If you don’t know anything besides the superficial stuff he doesn’t care about you.” Jordan states. “You also need to look out for him not knowing anything about you. Does he give you space to open up? Does he remember the shit you do tell him?”
“Got it, so just look out for the superficial surface level conversations if you never have any deeper moments.” You say.
“Exactly.” Jordan says before her eyes snap back to the screen suddenly. “Did they say they’re gonna try and make that house feel more ‘open concept’? What the fuck is their problem?”
“Huh?” You look back to Jordan’s TV, which is playing Property Brothers. “You got a problem against open concept?”
“I have a problem with every house being made to look the same, inside and out. It’s bad enough new houses don’t have unique floor plans. Now we’re taking houses that were unique and fucking them up till they’re boring! What ever happened to individuality? I bet they’ll paint the walls grey too. Fuck me.” She huffs, leaning back against the couch.
“Are you really into this show or just really into design patterns?” You ask, charmed at her passion for something completely random.
“A bit of both.” Jordan says. “I wanted to be an architect. Before I got my powers.”
“Shut up! No, you did not.”
“I did.” She laughs, “I used to draw up plans and torment my parents with them every hour of the day.”
You spend the rest of the afternoon talking about your hidden passions.
You even get the honor of seeing a few of the sketches Jordan made years ago. They were crinkled at the edges, pencil markings dull with age in some places. You smiled down at the folder Jordan keeps the drawings in. When you look up, finally, to compliment them you notice a strange look on Jordan’s face.
Thinking you’d made her self conscious with your long silence you wrapped an arm around her and told her she would have made a hell of an architect. And probably killed someone with the utter lack of load bearing beams in her structures.
You expected her to shove you off playfully but she only leaned into you and smiled, flipping to the next page of the folder.
When you get back to your own dorm room, moon high in the sky, you have to stifle a laugh. The latest post on Jordan’s Instagram is a picture of you standing with your hands on your hips in the middle of their room, looking baffled.
The caption: I handed her the remote and walked away for five minutes. We’ve been looking for almost an hour #jesus christ #banned from room 4ever.
You step out into the hallway and call Jordan up, demanding they take down their character assassination attempt because you two only looked for 26 minutes, actually.
They refuse.
You’re so incensed by the exaggeration that you wind up back outside Jordan’s dorm room not ten minutes later. When she opens the door, and sees you standing there, she bursts into laughter. She drags you inside, and when you ask her when the ban got lifted she just throws you on the bed. You spend the rest of the night arguing semantics.
You and Jordan were sitting in the ground floor of the school’s library where you were allowed to talk quietly. You were teaching them how to fold paper to make little stars while they were teaching you how to make the perfect paper airplane.
“Are you filled with barely suppressed rage? Why is it so damn wrinkled?” You laugh at their mangled star.
Jordan grabs another piece of paper with a huff, pushing her bob back behind her ears. “You are shit at giving instructions. This is impossible. Do the steps slower again.”
“I’m sorry, I’m actually not capable of slowing myself down times 3 like a Youtube video.” You tease.
“Fuck you.” Jordan kicks you under the table with her foot. “Again. Show me.”
“You start with this corner here, then you twist it over here, next you wanna-”
“Hey! Hey! What’s up people!” You and Jordan turn in perfect sync to hiss at the person to be quiet only to find that person to be Andre Anderson.
You turn back towards the table, Jordan moves an arm to curl around the back of your chair.
“Hey.” Jordan says flatly. You make some noise that you hope passes for a greeting.
“Sorry, too loud. So this is where the party is, huh? What’re you two doing?” Andre grabs a chair on the opposite side of the table and you frown, focusing intensely on the paper before you.
“Don’t you have a class right now?” Jordan asks sharply.
“Blowing it off.” Andre grins back.
Jordan scoffs. You only notice your shoulders are practically up to your ears when Jordan puts her hand there and rubs. You relax, letting out a quiet breath you were holding. Jordan gives you a squeeze.
“Awww, you making little stars? Cute. Wanna show me how, F/N?” Andre has the nerve to sound flirtatious.
After ditching you without a word and radio silence to back it up. To really make sure there’s insult to match the injury. You clench your jaw. Keep moving your hands. Try to zone out.
The hand on your shoulder gets bigger and so does the thigh that brushes against yours under the table. “Could you fuck off for a bit? We’re trying to relax after our exams this morning.”
“Ouch. Didn’t know you couldn’t relax with me around, man.” Andre bites back. “F/N, you want me to stay, don’t you?”
You get up from the table abruptly. The sudden sting in your eyes doesn’t even allow you you to collect your things. Your chest feels tight. You have to just get out of here. You hope in a school of future superheroes no one will steal your stuff. You think you hear calls of your name from behind you. Some yelling. Your ears are ringing too much. You break into a sprint.
You can’t even make it to your dorm. You have to settle for tucking yourself into the first patch of trees behind a building you can find. You try to fight back the tears. One breathe. Two. Three. Try to focus on the birds chirping somewhere above you. But the memories are all flooding in at once and you start to cry. Heaving, chest burning sobs.
“F/N. F/N. F/N, hey look at me.” You zone back into the world to Jordan pushing your hair away from your face and you sob.
“Fuck me, I’ll kill him. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d get so upset. You seemed like you didn’t care after that night… I- I’ll fucking knock his teeth in.” Jordan hisses. You’d thought you’d seen them angry before. But their face has never looked like this.
“What’s… are you having a panic attack?” Jordan asks, still petting your hair gently. You manage to nod. “Is touching you okay? Is it making it worse?” You push yourself into his hands and without another word he pulls you into his lap, tucking you against him.
You notice absently he’s wearing his favorite jacket and try to shift, so that you’re not getting tears and snot onto the fabric. He pushes your head back against his shoulder, shushing you gently. You let yourself relax, letting out the rest of the tears. Letting the anxiety leave your body. You start your grounding techniques as your breathing evens. You can see the sharp cut of Jordan’s jaw. Hear his heartbeat. The birds chirping. Feel his hands as they rub soothing circles into your skin. Smell the cologne he wears. You tuck yourself closer, even though no more tears are coming.
“Andre is a fucking loser.” Jordan says, quietly but vehemently, “You shouldn’t waste a second fucking thinking about him. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s not you. It’s just who he is.”
“It’s not just Andre… It’s… it’s not even mostly Andre.” You say quietly. “I mean he’s a dick but… it just brings up memories.”
“Memories?” Jordan echoes softly, and you know you don’t have to tell him anything but you want to.
“When I was younger… I was even more of a wall flower than I am now. Shocker, I know.” You try to joke, Jordan only hums to let you know he’s listening, pulling you closer. “Even though I had powers I wasn’t popular or anything. I had trouble controlling them. Not enough to be dangerous… just enough to be… well, a loser, honestly. Because of my anxiety, and how loud my head gets my force-fields would just pop out whenever. I couldn’t stop it. If I was scared. If I got nervous. If I was feeling stupid, or ugly. All the time. People called me bubble girl.”
“I learned to just keep to myself but I was such an easy, fun target. Sneak up on the mouse and watch them jump and make a bubble! Fun!” You laugh bitterly. You think you feel Jordan kiss the top of your head, but you’re still out of it. “It made even getting out of bed to go to school hard. Administration wouldn’t take it serious as bullying because I was a supe: if I wanted it to stop I should defend myself.”
“My parents felt the same way. Wouldn’t let me transfer. But I didn’t want to fight back. I didn’t want to turn myself into something I’m not just to be left alone! I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought eventually everyone would get bored, mature a little. But it just got worse and worse every fucking year. Senior year was… bad, though. I was getting better at controlling my powers so what kids would do to make me react was worse. But I just ignored it. I started just… pulling into myself. Whenever anyone would pour paint on my favorite outfit. Or cut my hair. Or hit me, I’d make the bubble in my head instead, and go there. Eventually, towards the end I thought people finally got bored, they stopped fucking with me as much. I thought I’d be able to graduate in peace.”
“There was this one boy… he was popular. But he’d always been nice to me. He smiled at me in the hallways. Would help me up if people shoved me when he was around. He even gave me his sweater once, when someone cut up my shirt during gym. His friends were dicks but I thought he was different, I thought he was nice.”
“He suddenly started being even more nice to me. It felt… when he asked me to prom I just wanted to be normal for one second. I should have known. I probably did know. I just wanted to pretend, for five seconds, I wanted to pretend.” You trail off, lost in the memory.
“What happened?” Jordan asks, voice sounding hoarse. You try to pull back to see what’s wrong but he keeps you still. You realize he started rocking the both of you as you spoke. You didn’t realize how soothing it was.
“It was a joke, obviously. We went to go shopping together, so we’d match, he told me. When we got to the shop he insisted we go to all his friends were waiting for us. Recording, of course. They all laughed at me. I still remember what one girl said, ‘you’re more crazy than we thought if you honestly ever believed someone like him would go out with a loser like you’.”
“F/N, those people were fucking assholes. They… god what the fuck is wrong with people. That’s not true.” Jordan makes you look at him, suddenly. You’re shocked that his eyes are red. “You’re not a fucking loser.”
“It’s okay, Jordan. I know they were just assholes. I always knew. It just hurts still. I’ve… I’ve avoided dating ever since, obviously. My first kiss wasn’t even romantic. It was just with a good friend that I knew wouldn’t make fun of me. So I could get it out of the way.”
“I’m sorry.” Jordan looks helpless, like he wants to do something but doesn’t know what.
“You didn’t do anything, Jordan. No need to say sorry.”
“And then Andre went and fucking… fucking motherfucker I’ll kill him!” Jordan snaps, goes to stand up and then remembers he’s holding you halfway. He sits back down, grip a little tighter, but still gentle.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t even a joke, what Andre did. He’s just… inconsiderate. And I happen to have a nasty experience that makes me blow everything out of proportion. I’ll have to get used to that kind of thing if I want to actually start dating.”
Suddenly both of Jordan’s hands are on your face, holding you still so you have to look at him. “You’re not blowing anything out of proportion. And… and you don’t have to get used to shit, F/N. You’re fucking incredible. You don’t need to tolerate anything, from fucking anyone. You’re a fucking… you’re a fucking dream girl! You’re smart, and funny, and sweet, and strong, and beautiful. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. You don’t have to settle for fucking anything. Okay?”
You stare up at him, shocked, he gives your head a gentle shake, “Okay?” You nod slowly.
He pulls you into another hug, the tightest one you’ve ever gotten. You don’t pull away until the sun dips so low you’re both draped in gold.
“Fucking rank number fucking 5!” Jordan screams, arm wrapped around you tightly. A chorus of cheers from the rest of the group and people nearby.
You cover your face, laughing helplessly. Jordan didn’t surprise you with this party, they knew that would only make you anxious, walking into a room full of people you weren’t expecting to see with (even if asked not to) cameras pointed at you.
Jordan had texted you: I am throwing you a surprise party on Friday night to celebrate your new ranking. Please practice your surprised face.
You had practiced. You’d done a very convincing gasp when you walked in.
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Jordan says, for the umpteenth time, looking at you. You feel your cheeks go hot.
“Oh shut up. I’ll get a big head soon.”
“You deserve it more than anyone. You’re fucking awesome.” Jordan had started heaping more praise onto you than you knew what to do with, most days.
She claimed it was practically training. That you needed to get used to people complimenting you, with the level of fame you’re going to reach. That alone had made your stomach erupt into butterflies. Jordan believed in you. Really believed in you.
“You’re the one who’s awesome… you’re a good mentor, Jordan.” You reach up to hold the hand that’s been wrapped around your shoulder all evening.
“Are you saying that following my advice works?” Jordan pretends to gasp. You playfully dig your nails into her side and she jumps before grabbing the offending hand and holding onto it. She doesn’t let go.
Her advice had worked. You posted on your social media more, at her insistence. You started to become a beast at hand to hand, thanks to Jordan’s brutal training regimen. You were socializing more, because as long as Jordan was there you felt safe. But you were even feeling confident enough to do things on your own that high school you would be shocked didn’t instantly send you to the grave.
You’d done an interview, for God’s sake! All on your own. Although your eyes kept darting to Jordan right off camera, who smiled reassuringly the whole time.
“I will not. Because then you’ll get a big head.” You tease, giving both her hands a squeeze.
“Let’s get a drink.” Jordan says, tugging you towards the kitchen.
It’s quieter in the kitchen. The drink table in the living room is still overflowing so no one’s had to start looking for leftovers yet.
“How you feeling?” Jordan asks, helping you sit on the counter before going to the fridge. After a second he pulls out your favorite. He hid them in the far back, you can tell by how far he had to lean.
“Good.” You smile as he pops your drink open before handing it to you. He leans against one of your knees.
“Party isn’t too much, right?” He asks, for the third time tonight.
Laughing you push a strand of unruly hair back from his face. He freezes at the touch, before a smile creeps onto his lips.
“Party is perfect, Jordie. Thank you. For everything. For being so…”
“Don’t thank me for treating you the way you should always be treated.”
“You treat me like a princess! What if I get spoiled? You’ll have to deal with a monster.” You tease. “You won’t even be able to be mad at me, because you’ll be the reason.”
“You’ll terrorize the world.”
“Cause complete chaos.”
“Devastation, even.” As Jordan speaks you realize you’d gotten closer. A lot closer. Your chest seizes up with anxiety as you wonder how long you’d been leaning in like this. You almost pull back, ready to apologize. But you’re frozen stiff now and realize the two of you are still getting closer. With a jolt you realize you both leaned in.
Jordan has a hand on your thigh, you reach down, nervous, to hold his hand as reflex. It’s an every day comfort, lately. You give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back. You don’t pull away as Jordan keeps leaning in.
“Jordan! Come stop Luke from doing a keg stand, please!” Cate’s voice, typically pleasant sounds incredibly annoying at the moment.
“Gimme a sec!” Jordan calls back, still looking you in the eye. You squeeze his hand tighter. He looks nervous. They’ve looked so nervous all night. Nervous you were having a good time. Nervous you were happy. Nervous… nervous to kiss you? Is he about to fucking kiss you?
“He has an interview tomorrow! Hustle please!” Cate calls back in a sing song tone.
“Fuck me!” Jordan throws his head back, shifting, frustrated. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
You nod, a little breathless from anxiety and excitement, and dread, and the full spectrum of human emotion. “Okay.”
Jordan stomps out of the kitchen, probably going to rip Luke a new asshole from the sound of her boots on the floor. She sounds like her own stampede. You giggle, pressing your hands, still warm from holding Jordan’s into your face. You may be bad at signals but…
You sit under the hideous fluorescent kitchen lighting feeling like something inside you is glowing. You kick your feet, nervous, waiting for Jordan to get back. Wondering what they’ll do. What they’ll say. If you’re delusional. You have to be delusional. You have to be.
“Guard dog taking a walk?” In the doorway stands Andre, looking a little rougher than usual. His right eye is dark, like a black eye that’s started healing. There’s a small bandage over his nose.
“What happened to you?” You gasp.
“Your guard dog.” Andre says, reaching into the fridge to pull out a bottle of spicy vodka. “Jordan’s number #2 for a reason. Congrats on making #5 by the way.”
“Thanks.” You say. “When did Jordan do that?”
“A week ago. Would have probably gotten it earlier but apparently Cate talked them into waiting to see me until they were less pissed off. For which I’m eternally grateful.” He says, taking a sip straight from the bottle without chaser.
You don’t really know what to say so you sit in silence. Legs still kicking, more from anxiety now, less from giddiness.
“He gave me a busted lip too, but that healed pretty quickly. I also think he might have kicked a rib loose, been a little sore on the left side.” Andre says, he doesn’t seem to be angry but you don’t know why else he’d talk to you.
“I didn’t ask Jordan to do that. If you’re wondering.” You say, slowly.
“No! No! You’re way too sweet for that. This was just my shitty way of getting around to an apology. I’m sorry. I should’ve said sorry before Jordan kicked my ass but I promise Jordan kicking my ass isn’t why I’m saying sorry. The original plan was to ask you out again, make it up to you with dinner. Jordan just kicked my ass first.”
“I hope to god you’re not working your way around to asking me on a pity date.” You narrow your eyes at him.
“So Jordan could put me in a full body cast?” Andre laughs loudly, shocking you. “No offense, you’re really cute, but nothing’s worth that fucking beat down.”
“Well, I guess I accept your-”
“You don’t have to forgive me. Jordan was pretty clear that I tore up some old wounds. I didn’t mean to, but I’m sorry. I can just be… a dick, sometimes. Often. All the time.” Andre jokes.
“What did Jordan say exactly?” You ask nervously.
“Nothing specific! I could barely pick out anything at all, really. The sound of her fist breaking my nose was pretty loud.”
You laugh then try to cover it up by taking a sip. Andre grins and you relax, knowing it was his way of breaking the tension.
“Can I ask you something?” Andre asks suddenly.
“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” You shrug.
“Fair enough.” Andre says, toying with the bottle. “Do you like Jordan?”
“What?”
“Because Jordan sure likes you.” Andre states.
“No, they don't.” It’s a reflex to deny the possibility of someone having feelings for you but the words feel wrong once you say them. Weren’t you just about to kiss? Wasn’t his hand just burning into your thigh like a brand? “Do they?”
“Jordan would never do a fraction of the shit they’ve been doing for you if they didn’t care about you.” Andre takes another sip, then moves to saunter from the kitchen. He stops, a glance over the shoulder. “However you feel, tell Jordan. And soon. They’re looking a little desperate.”
Then it’s just you and the sound of the party, and the cool marble you’re sitting on. And a lot to think about.
“Your incessant leg jiggling is distracting me from how and why they intend to turn this beautiful victorian home into another soulless open concept millennial nightmare.” Jordan says, glancing from the TV to your leg which, yes, has been jiggling for awhile.
“I’ve got a question.”
“Obviously.”
“How can you tell if a girl isn’t into you?”
Jordan turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed, “what?”
You feel heat flood your cheeks, but keep your eyes firmly glued to the screen. “Are the rules the same? Or different?”
“You like girls?” Jordan blurts out.
“What?” The question is enough to make you look at her. And now you're trapped by societal standards of politeness to maintain the most anxiety inducing eye contact you've ever shared.
“You've never talked about… you've never said anything about liking girls.”
“You only offered up the help for the one gender. Didn't wanna get greedy.” You force a laugh.
“How long have you…. have you always liked girls?” Jordan asks and you hope to God you're not hallucinating that quick glance at your lips.
“You follow me on Instagram!”
“What's that have to do with anything?”
“I literally have the pride flag in my bio?”
“I thought you were-”
“-Jordan Li, if you're about to tell me you thought I was an ally I'll beat you to death, and then jump off a cliff.”
Jordan laughs, ducking her head, hair falling into her face slightly. You dig your fingers into your thigh to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear.
“Is there a reason why you're asking… about how to tell when a girl isn't into you, all of a sudden?” Jordan looks up at you and the world narrows down to her brown eyes, and her nose, and her mouth. And the look in her eyes you hope you're not reading wrong.
You blink in confusion when amusement crosses over her face and for one awful second you think Jordan is laughing at you and you could throw up. But you realize you're suddenly looking at her from behind a force-field of light purple and feel queasy out of a different sense of embarrassment.
You can hear a smile in Jordan’s voice, but you refuse to unbury your face from your hands, “Never seen you not be able to control your powers before.”
“Please kill me.”
“Can't. Your forcefield is still up, princess.” She teases, tapping at the bubble.
With a groan of humiliation you drop your field and peek up at her through your fingers.
“First the forcefield, now the hands. Still haven't answered my question though.” You almost snip at her that she should take a wild guess at your answer but there's something about Jordan’s expression. It's teetering between playful, guarded, and… something else. And you have to bank on whatever that something else is.
You take a deep breath in and move in closer, “You're not so awful a teacher that the lessons for a guy didn't stick, but considering you're a girl too who knows what incredibly important lesson you didn't know you had to teach me. The lesson… the girl lesson, that would have stopped me from misinterpreting what's been happening here. If I’m misinterpreting. All I know is… all I can really be sure of, is how I feel. And I, well-” You bite your lip, taking a shaky breath, and Jordan moves in closer, “I'm about halfway to being in love with you.”
The words are barely out of your mouth before her lips are on yours. Her hand curls at the base of your neck, pulling you in closer. A brush of her tongue against your bottom lip before you let her in with a breathless sigh. She moans against your lips, other hand moving to your waist to tug you into her lap.
You lose your balance a little, fall into her in a way that is not at all seductive. You laugh, embarrassed and she chases the sound, using both hands to put you in her lap, holds you there firm and secure.
“You-” She kisses you, interrupting your sentence. “Haven’t-” Another kiss. “Told me-” She holds you tight this time, tilting her head to the side, sweeping her tongue against yours and gasping at your taste. You pull back with shaky hands, keeping her at a distance with a grip on her shoulders.
“Could we use our big girl words?” You ask, breathless and a little dizzy.
“I’ve fucking only been in love with you for two years, thanks for fucking noticing.” She huffs, exasperated and smiling.
“How on Earth was I supposed to interpret your seething stare of hate for being in love with me?” You’re already melting against her as she pulls you back in with the guiding grip on your hair.
“Shoulda looked harder, baby.” She coos, and doesn’t let you up again anytime soon.
A/N: my magnum opus of pining! if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo
#bee talks#he's just not that into you#jordan li x reader#jordan li imagine#gen v#black!reader#this fic is a fucking monster in word count but that's just what jordan li deserves
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stand-in love (jwy x f!reader)
genre: fluff, angst || word count: 1k
author’s note: had this wony x reader fic sitting in my drafts completely empty bc i lost the original idea but thanks to this amazing (AND GAY) episode of love bites suddenly i can write again
you were known for a lot of things.
approachable, charming, and kind, you were everyone’s friend.
you were also quite clever: near perfect test scores, a continuous slew exemplary outputs used by teachers as “examples” for others (not without the scowls of some), and the eloquence that even the brightest minds envied.
you were a rational person. every move you made was calculated.
but you could not, for the life of you, remember what the hell was going through your head when you asked your best friend to be your girlfriend.
for practice.
in your messed-up head, it made perfect sense! you'd never been with a girl before, so why not practice for the real thing? you'd hate to be anything less than the best -- even more so as a girlfriend.
that would just be embarrassing.
so one day, while you and wonyoung were hanging out after class, you decided to pop the question.
"do you wanna go out with me?"
"huh?"
"f--for practice!"
nice save, y/n.
you stumbled over your words and waved your hands around as you tried to explain. "i mean, i've never been with a girl in that way before, you know? i don't wanna mess it up!"
she continued to eye you inquisitively, putting her fork down and leaning back against her seat. "and you think that going on a practice date is gonna help you?"
"it sounds stupid, i know," you sighed, putting your own fork down and leaning back into your seat.
"no no, continue. i wanna know where you were going with this," she urged you with an amused smile.
"you think that me dying alone is funny, wony?! man, what friend you are," you rolled your eyes at the girl while crossing your arms.
she looked at you, eyes wide and jaw dropped in disbelief. "i--didn't even say that?! wah, the gall of this one." it was her turn to roll her eyes.
you shook your head in amusement. "well, i was just thinking that it wouldn't be a good idea to go into it blind, you know? it's like a test; you've gotta be prepared!" you reasoned out.
"you're never beating the overthinker allegations, are you?"
"hey, it's a valid concern!" you semi-yelled defensively.
"i didn't say it was! it's just..."
"just?"
"a little overkill, don't you think? you can't just become the best girlfriend ever by studying or something -- it's not a test," she says.
you frown. "if you don't want to, you could've just said--"
"when did i say that, though?" she cuts you off.
"wait, so you would?"
"i mean, i don't see why not," she shrugs. "besides, you're paying, aren't you?" she asks cheekily.
"in your dreams, jang," you shot back.
"what date you are," she mumbled. you felt a small smile take over your features hearing the pout in her voice.
"anyways, just tell me when and where."
that was six months ago.
and now here you both were, cuddled up on the corner of your friend's couch while everyone else was seated around the coffee table playing some board game.
you looked over at your fake girlfriend, admiring her as she laughed at your friends' shenanigans before you poked her cheek. that seemed to catch her attention as she hums and looks at you like a puppy.
"i'm going to grab something from the kitchen, you want anything?"
"just a water, love," she replied.
"ne," you said taking the blanket that was covering you both off your lap and laying it on her.
once you were out of earshot, the group turned to wonyoung, faces ranging from confusion to surprise.
"love?" rei questioned.
"are you guys actually together, now?" leeseo asked excitedly, prompting gaeul to scoff.
"what do you mean, 'together'? i don't even like girls like that," wonyoung replied.
"sounded a lil too defensive, don't you think?" liz questioned.
"guys, let's stop ganging up on wony," yujin sighed. "that's for her to figure out."
"figure what out?" you asked as you walked into the living room, a glass of water in hand. "here you go, by the way."
"how this game works, y/n," liz chimed in, pulling a new board game out from under the coffee table.
"you wanted to play, wony?" you asked as you took a seat on the arm of the couch, looking down at her.
"nope, was just curious," she answered before she pulled you back into her lap by the waist. "besides, who's gonna keep you warm?" she continued, craning her neck to look up at you, prompting gaeul to fake vomit in the background.
you watched the girls play, unaware of your best friend's stare.
no way did they think we were actually together, did they? are we really that convincing of a couple? i mean, y/n is lovely, that's for sure. she takes care of me well, she's funny, and she's just so cuddly!
best friends think of each other this way, don't they?
slowly but surely, the girls started resigning and heading to their bedrooms for the night, leaving you and wonyoung in the living room.
"well, wanna head in for the night, wony?"
"no, i just wanna stay here for a while," she whispered. you leaned closer to hear her.
"why are you whispering, we're the only ones here," you whispered back. you note the proximity: breaths mingling with each other, noses barely touching, and her long eyelashes that you could individually count.
you also notice how her breathing seemingly quickened.
"no reason," she says, before leaning up and connecting your lips -- only for a second, though.
her eyes were hooded as she looked up at your wide eyes. that must've snapped her back to reality because her own eyes went wide as she moved to push you off her lap.
"wait wait, wony," you urged her but not before she pushed you away.
"i'm sorry, y/n," she whispered before going into her room and leaving you standing wondering what the hell just happened.
#🐻 — ky writes#girl group imagines#ive imagines#ive x reader#jang wonyoung#jang wonyoung x reader#wonyoung#ive wonyoung#wonyoung x reader
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Marcille x Fem!Reader - Sick Day
May I interest you in some lesbian fluff?
Chilchuck walked over to the party, his face painted with mild concern.
"Hey, guys. I, uh.. think there's something wrong with Y/N."
Laios looked over curiously and could only get out the words "What do you-" before Marcille cut him off.
"What do you mean!? Is she ok? What's wrong with her?" With each sentence, she got closer and closer to Chilchuck, her eyes wide with worry.
"I just think she's sick!" Chilchuck said, raising his hands defensively.
"Sick!?" She turned to glare at Senshi and Laios. "This is your guys' faults!"
"Huh?!" Laios exclaimed. "How is it our faults?!"
"That jackalope you cooked last night! It was so undercooked!"
Chilchuck nodded in agreement. "Ya. Not your guys' best work."
Senshi looked down in shame and Laios sniffled a little before saying, "Then how are we not sick?"
"Because you two are built different, that's why!" Marcille clenched her fists. "Y/N only ate that meal out of pity as to not hurt your feelings!"
She dramatically turned. "I'll go take care of her."
Chilchuck shrugged. "Try not to get vomited on."
Marcille shuddered and turned to him and quietly said, "Don't you ever say that to me again.." She shook her head and entered Y/N's room.
"Y/N.. are you ok?"
Marcille heard a groan of pain and saw Y/N's sleeping bag shift around. Marcille sighed a little and walked over, gently shaking the sleeping bag.
"Y/N.." she said softly.
Y/N poked her head out and Marcille clicked her tongue. "You definitely got food poisoning."
Y/N groaned and rolled on her side, grumbling and her stomach making gurgling noises.
"Take deep breaths," Marcille guided, her voice soft and gentle. She stroked her hair as a means to help try and alleviate the pain. Due to not having eaten the meal last night, nor had any breakfast this morning, Marcille has no mana to try and heal Y/N. Welp. She'd have to do this the old-fashioned way, then!
"Want me to get you some water?" Marcille asked.
"Wouldn't I just vomit that up?" Y/N asked.
"Oh, well, I.." Marcille thought for a moment. Would she just vomit it up? Marcille actually had no idea. She's never actually tried to help someone feel better without using healing magic (even though she was really bad at it and usually ended up making the person feel even worse with healing-pains).
Y/N stared at her with a waiting expression. She always did get so grumpy when she was in pain. Marcille learned that a long time ago.
"Um.. uh.. I-I'll ask Senshi for some advice! I'll be right back, ok?" Marcille said before quickly getting up and running out.
"Senshiiiiii!!" Marcille called out, panicking a little. "Do you have any advice on how to make someone feel better from food poisoning?"
"Hmmm." Senshi thoughtfully stroked his beard. "Well, don't let her eat for a couple of hours. Try and have Y/N drink tiny sips of water every few minutes or so, to avoid dehydration. After a while, try and get her to eat some bland, nonflavored foods. Like crackers or toast!"
"But we don't have crackers or toast.." Marcille said, hunching her shoulders.
"I'll whip some up. We still have some flour from the orcs-"
"Oh no! Your food caused this, Senshi!"
"Oh, it was one slip up. I only didn't get to cook it properly because you lot were rushing me."
Marcille crosses her arms, considering her options. Well, not like she had any other choice. "Fine... do what you can, please."
Senshi nodded before reaching to his toolbelt and pulling out a ladle. "Here you go," he said and got to work to gather what he needed. Marcille then took to gathering water from the nearby well. "This should be enough," she said to herself, looking at the bucket of water full to the brim. "Maybe a bit overkill.."
She started to waddle back to Y/N's room, doing everything she could to not spill the water.
"I'm back!" she said, plopping the bucket down before letting out a "phew!" and wiping her brow.
Y/N looked over, her face extremely pale.
"Oh dear.." Marcille said, rushing over. "Did you..?"
Y/N nodded a little before glancing over at the corner of the room where there was some vomit. Marcille crinkled her nose, grosses out before looking back down at Y/N, who had let out a whimper.
"I'm sorry I'm gross right now.."
"No, no! It's not your fault. Don't apologize!"
Marcille reached over to rub Y/N's eyes, hoping to wipe any tears away, Y/N leaning into her touch, causing Marcille's heart to flutter. Just a little.
"Well, uhm... I brought you some water. Senshi says you can drink a little at a time.
Y/N nodded and forced herself to sit up with a pained groan. Marcille grabbed the water bucket, lifting the ladle to Y/N's lips.
She hesitated, at first, before softly sipping, coughing a few times and after around 5 sips, Marcille decided that should be enough for now.
"Thank you, Marcille."
Y/N reached out to pull her into a small hug of thanks, getting a squeak of surprise from Marcille, who stayed frozen in place during the entire embrace. Once Y/N let her go, she lied back down, seeming to feel a little bit better. Y/N sniffled a little bit, still a bit embarrassed about the whole situation. She was embarrassing herself in front of Marcille. She looked awful, and the room smelled awful because of when she threw up, and this whole situation was just awful!
And yet...
Marcille still wanted to take care of her. To make her feel better. Y/N buried her face into her arm, wiping away the tears and ignoring the rumbling in her stomach. Marcille really was amazing.
Marcille stared at her for a moment before scooting away to lean against the wall and watch over her.
She watched as her eyes slowly closed, her lashes long, and beautiful, all of her features beautiful, even with her sickly complexion. Marcille doesn't think she could ever, under any circumstances, find Y/N unattractive. It just didn't seem possible.
Y/N's eyes fluttered open again about 30 minutes later. "Can I have some more water?"
"Ya, of course."
Marcille scooted back over to her to spoon her some water. She didn't cough as much this time, nor groan in pain, so that was hopefully a good sign.
Marcille eventually set the ladle down and checked her own vitals for a moment. Her mana was back, only a little. Enough for one, small spell.
She scooped some water into her hands and quietly muttered a magic chant, a very faint blue glow illuminating her palms. She then turned to Y/N, who was watching with enchanted eyes.
"Um... Here. This water has a weak healing spell. It's all I can manage right now." She brought her hands to Y/N's lips, her looked rather nervous.
"I have to drink from your hands?"
"Ya. Sorry, I know it's not ideal, but-"
"No, no, it's fine." She looked down at the water in Marcille's hands, blushing a little. "Really fine.."
Y/N tilted her head back, feeling Marcille's hands press against her lips. That was all she could really focus on, not the water or the magic coursing through her body now. Nope. Just the skin-to-skin contact. Oh dear, does that make her a pervert?!
She tightly closed her eyes, but quickly opened them when she felt Marcille's hand gently touch her hairline.
"Do you feel any better?"
Y/N was too much in a trance to respond. Wow, she was pretty. Eventually, she managed to squeak out, "Y-Ya. I'm fine. Thank you for that, Marcille."
Marcille smiled at that. She loved being able to help people. Especially Y/N. She loved seeing that shimmer in her eyes.
"Glad to hear it."
The door opened and Senshi stood there, holding up a plate of homemade crackers and toast.
"Are you up to eating anything, Y/N?" he asked with a good-natured smile.
Y/N nodded, and Senshi set the plate in front of her.
"Get to feeling better."
Y/N nodded gratefully and began to nibble lightly on some toast.
"Don't eat too much, mkay?" Marcille said, her voice soft.
Y/N nodded, blushing a tad as she looked down at her food. Crumbs dotted her face. This did still kind of upset her stomach, but not as badly as it would have before. Must be that magic at work.
Marcille leaned her head over to look at Y/N. "You doing good?"
"Ya, thankfully."
"Hm?" Marcille gave her a curious look before her eyes softened a little. She leaned over and used her sleeve to wipe some crumbs from her face.
Y/N's eyes widened, and she could've vomited from sheer panic at that very moment. Her touch was so... gentle!
"It's funny.. usually you're never a messy eater, haha."
"Ya, well.. I'm too ill to worry about proper etiquette."
"Yes, of course, I know."
She paused before saying quietly, "Though, you don't have to act so proper around me..."
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing, haha!"
"Hmm..." Y/N set the cracker she had been eating down. She looked at Marcille, and Marcille looked back.
"What is it, Y/N?"
Y/N hesitated. She should kiss her, right? ...No. She looked ugly, she smelled bad, her breath was awful... These were the definition of the worst situations to kiss someone in.
"Just.. wanted to thank you. For aiding me."
Marcille blinked a couple of times before smiling. "Of course!" She gently took Y/N's hand in her own before gently kissing the top. "I want to make you feel better."
Y/N's eyes turned as wide as saucer's and she froze, the only word she could get out being, "Why?"
"It was just a small healing spell.." Marcille said with a shy smile. "It can only be transferred by the lips."
"A-Ah.. I see.." Y/N paused before smiling at her.
They sat there for a moment before Marcille quickly hoisted herself up with her staff. "Well, I, uh, should let you rest. You get better now, hahahaha!" She slammed into a wall, rubbing her head before laughing again and running out, closing the door with a slam.
"So," Chilchuck said, giving her a knowing look.
"I.. uh.. She... She's fine. She is perfectly fine."
"Are you fine?" Laios asked.
Marcille smiled a little manically before letting out a little chuckle. "Not when she smiles at me like that.. Oh, never when she smiles at me like that."
Divider by @cafekitsune
#marcille dungeon meshi#marcille dunmeshi#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#delicious in dungeon#marcille donato#marcille x reader#fanfic#y/n#lesbian#lesbians#sapphic
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as a fellow rambley enjoyer do u have any thoughts on rambley lalalallala
-chaireem (i didnt realise u couldnt send asks via sideblogs cry)
my thoughts are, in no specific order:
he's so cute he's SO cute why is he the cutest ever
ohhhhhhh he did something bad huh
okay so he's a lying liar. thank god.
jflsdkjfhdslkhg IN ALL SERIOUSNESS i really, really like the characterization of this guy. he's got the perfect amicable charm that you would expect from an amusement park mascot, but there's obviously stuff going on under the surface. in that regard, though, i really appreciate that it's not overkill.
I mentioned before that he reminded me greatly of Sun's "Keep the lights on...on...on" line -- that is to say, friendly enthusiasm with an aftertaste of pure dread. the threat is there, but it's blended so smoothly into the surrounding charm that it's easier to swallow. I LOVE characters who are spoonful's of honey to make the medicine go down. I LOVE characters who are liars, who are petty and decisive and biased, but who hide it behind three million layers of "Let's be friends!"
This stupid raccoon is going to ruin my life and I am so so serious.
#Indigo Park#this sounds more like a rant but I PROMISE you I am#saying all of this while shaking like an excited little purse dog#will this be enough to throw my DCA hyperfixation? nah#but it's got me by the throat enough that I'm already a good 1k words in with no sign of slowing yet
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IntiMarch 2024 Day 11 - Make me something sweet
The prompt for this was "Kiss me"
Satoru is bored out of his mind and he’s not shy to let his manager know about it. Things are always horribly slow between the breakfast and the lunch rush and it’s complete overkill to have three people tending today.
Or any day, really, because two people could handle this just fine, in Satoru’s opinion.
Well, in all honesty he probably shouldn’t complain because it means he has a job and doesn’t have to rely solely on his family’s money but still.
He’d rather be home than be bored out of his mind like this. And it’s not even as if he can slack off, and waste his time away on the phone because Nanami is already sending him glares as it is and even his manager is looking over more often than not, so Satoru has to at least pretend.
Satoru forces a smile on his face when the next customer comes in, but Nanami is already at the cashier, so he lets him handle everything, while Utahime busies herself with actually making the coffee.
There’s not even anything to stack up, because they keep everything meticulously prepared and so Satoru heaves out a huge sigh.
“If you’re that bored why don’t you just leave,” Nanami snaps at him after one too many sighs and Satoru makes a face at him.
“Believe it or not, I actually do need the money,” he gives back. It’s not a huge secret that Satoru’s family is loaded, but it’s an even less well-kept secret that Satoru despises all of them and would rather die than be reliant on their money.
“But why does it have to be in my shift?” Nanami complaints, not even waiting for Satoru to reply before he turns his back on him.
“It’s not as if I chose this,” Satoru still mutters, certain that Nanami hears him and that, too, is the truth.
He asked for one more shift per week and this is what Yaga gave him. He’s not going to refuse, even though he would rather work with anyone else than with Nanami, with his stick up his ass, and Utahime, who hates his guts.
Satoru mechanically smiles again when the doorbell chimes but he immediately straightens up when he spots the customer who came just in.
“Oh, wow,” he breathes out because the guy who steps closer to the counter is certainly a sight to behold.
His long black hair is made up to a messy bun at the back of his head, half of his hair still spilling out. He’s build like a fighter, tall and thick and Satoru guesses he can lay him out flat in seconds, but his smile is the sweetest thing Satoru has ever seen and it honestly feels as if he’s swooning when he spots his incredible eyes.
It takes Satoru a moment to even notice the huge gauges the guy is spotting and then another one before he spots the ring in his lips and Satoru feels as if his heart is going to beat right out of his chest.
Satoru can feel Nanami side-eyeing him, but he is professional through and through, because he easily smiles at the gorgeous guy.
“Suguru, welcome back,” Nanami greets him and Satoru immediately files that away.
Suguru. What a nice name.
“Nanami, hello,” Suguru gives back and he seems to be a regular because after one too many creepy incidents Yaga told them not to wear their nametags anymore.
“The usual?” Nanami asks and Utahime starts preparing the order before Suguru even nods, so he really must come by often enough for them to know what he wants.
Or he’s just incredibly boring, Satoru thinks when he sees that Nanami rings him up for one black coffee. Well, with a face like that, he’s allowed to be boring, Satoru decides.
“You’re a little over-staffed today, huh?” Suguru asks as he waits for his order and before Nanami can even open his mouth, Satoru slides up to the picking-up area.
“I wouldn’t say so, I’m very lucky to be here today,” Satoru sweetly says blinking his eyes at Suguru and for a split second he thinks it works but then Nanami is right there, smacking the back of his head.
“Ouch,” Satoru complaints but Nanami only rolls his eyes.
“Behave, Satoru,” he chides him and his face only gets more constipated when Satoru pouts at him. “Just for once, please be normal.”
“It’s perfectly normal to flirt with customers,” Satoru hisses back before he turns back around to Suguru, smile already back on his face, but it slides off when he realises that Suguru walked away without another word.
“It’s not!” Nanami tells him. “Don’t alienate him, he’s a regular.”
“Yeah, I could tell,” Satoru sighs out, stretching himself out over the counter. “But so boring with his black coffee. Does he ever order anything else?” he asks.
“No, never,” Utahime chimes in. “That’s his go to and he can’t even be swayed with specials or other offers.”
“Ugh, he clearly doesn’t know what’s tasty.”
“Satoru,” Nanami warningly says but Satoru is barely listening to him.
“Does he always come by at this time?”
“Except for the weekends,” Utahime confirms and Nanami groans when Satoru’s grin grows bigger.
“Yaga!” he calls out, turning around, Nanami hot on his heels.
“If he changes shifts permanently, I want out of this shift!” he says, just as Satoru marches into Yaga’s office.
“What the hell is going on?” Yaga breathes out, already pinching the bridge of his nose but Satoru only gives him a winning smile.
This is going to be great.
~*~*~
“Suguru, hello,” Satoru greets Suguru a day later, with no annoying Nanami breathing down his neck and he enjoys the way his familiar approach briefly makes Suguru’s steps falter.
“Satoru, was it? What happened to Nanami?” he asks, clearly confused by Satoru’s presence, but Satoru will get him used to this soon.
He has all the morning shifts now, after all.
“He had to change shifts, which is why I’m going to be here from now on!”
“I see,” Suguru gives back, a small smile curling around his mouth and Satoru knows that he already has him half charmed. “I’ll take—”
“A black coffee, yes, I know,” Satoru interrupts him, already busying himself with getting his order. “Here you go!”
He presents the cup with a flourish, even though there’s not even some latte art he can show off but Suguru still takes it with a smile.
“Thank you,” he gives back. “Until tomorrow then.”
“Until tomorrow,” Satoru agrees and gives Suguru his biggest smile. “I can’t wait.”
And Satoru really can’t; he has an entire plan ready. He’ll ease Suguru into his presence for a week and then he’ll get his order wrong, so Suguru has to come back and Satoru gets another chance to talk to him.
It’ll be fine, it’s an absolute fool proof plan.
~*~*~
Satoru slides his newest concoction over the counter. It’s an almost disgustingly sweet drink Satoru came up with on the spot and he thinks that this time, it’ll have to be the one that brings Suguru back in the shop to complain about his orders always getting fucked up.
Suguru thanks him with a warm smile and Satoru decides not to read anything into the way Suguru’s fingertips slide against his fingers as he takes the cup because so far Suguru hasn’t come back.
He still comes in at his usual time of course, but no matter what Satoru puts in his coffee, Suguru never returns to demand a refund.
And it’s driving Satoru up the wall.
He’s usually good at flirting; his looks help and Satoru knows how to wield them in a way that makes people flustered and while Suguru is always unfailingly polite and even jokes with him, he never ever reacts to any of the more flirtatious remarks Satoru makes.
It’s maybe time to admit that Suguru doesn’t want to respond to any of his flirting attempts but Satoru refuses to admit defeat.
Not until Suguru outright tells him to stop it.
~*~*~
Suguru comes in with a girl at his side and Satoru’s heart plummets to the ground.
“Shoko, goddamit, just stop,” Suguru says, sounding more relaxed than Satoru has ever heard him and he watches with mounting despair how Suguru slumps over her much more slender frame and how she takes it like a champ.
Satoru could do that, too, he petulantly thinks just as he plasters his usual customer smile to his face.
“Everything okay?” Suguru asks before Satoru can even say something and Satoru nods.
“Of course, hello, welcome, what can I get for you today?” Satoru asks, acting as if Suguru and the girl—Shoko apparently—are just another pair of regular customers and not the actual man of Satoru’s dreams and the woman who destroyed it all.
“Satoru, are you sure you’re okay?” Suguru asks again, and Satoru tries to keep his attention on Shoko, who is raising a questioning eyebrow at Suguru.
“You know the people here by name?” she asks, quickly scanning Satoru to see that he’s not wearing a name tag.
“It’s my regular coffee shop, Shoko,” Suguru tells her and the casual use of her name makes something sour curl in Satoru’s belly.
“Can I get you your regular today, too?” Satoru forces himself to ask and dutifully rings it up when Suguru nods.
Satoru takes Shoko’s order as well and then gets to preparing them without his usual pestering and bantering. He only realises too late that muscle memory overrode everything because instead of making Suguru his stupid black coffee like he was supposed to do, he still makes one of his extra special drinks for Suguru.
He briefly thinks about pouring it down the drain and making Suguru that boring order but in the end, the coffee is already made and the sooner he hands it over, the sooner Suguru and his girl will leave.
“Satoru,” Suguru tries again as Satoru puts the drinks on the counter, quickly snatching his hands away before Suguru can even think to reach for his.
“Thank you for your patronage,” Satoru stiffly says and turns away from them before Suguru can find his voice again.
“Oh wow, he’s prickly,” Shoko mutters, not quite low enough for Satoru not to overhear and so it hurts extra bad when Suguru doesn’t even say anything.
But Satoru guesses he has his answer to his flirting right there.
~*~*~
“Satoru, hello,” Suguru greets him as he steps into the shop and Satoru gives him a brief smile, before he busies himself with Suguru’s coffee.
This time he’s not caught off guard like he was yesterday and so he makes extra sure to make Suguru a black coffee and nothing else.
“Here you go,” he says as he hands Suguru his coffee and he briefly falters when he sees how unhappy Suguru looks.
“Everything okay?” Satoru can’t help but to ask because he knows that Suguru sometimes struggles with his classes or that his sisters are giving him grey hairs and Satoru aches to alleviate his stress even just a little bit but he has to remember that that’s not his job.
Suguru already has someone who does that for him. At least Satoru hopes Shoko does.
“Sure,” Suguru quietly gives back without meeting Satoru’s eyes and he simply takes his coffee and leaves.
“Okay then,” Satoru says to the empty space in front of him and wonders if things will always be like this between them now.
Maybe he should change shifts again. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to flirt in the first place.
“What is this?” Suguru’s voice suddenly asks and he sounds mad.
Satoru’s head flies up and watches how Suguru marches straight up to the counter, not even caring about the other patrons in the shop.
“Huh?” Satoru very eloquently asks and Suguru almost slams the cup down on the counter in front of Satoru.
“This? What the hell is this?”
“Your—black coffee? Just like you ordered?” Satoru cautiously says, because he doesn’t know what’s going on, why Suguru is so angry.
“But you never make me what I order,” Suguru huffs out and despite everything Satoru can feel himself go hot in the face.
“And you never complaint!” he hotly gives back. “And now that I do what you ask me to, you come back here to what? Complain about a perfect order?”
“Yes!” Suguru almost yells right back and Satoru looks around the shop.
Everyone is looking at them, including the new girl who took Utahime’s spot for the day.
“You’re on your own for a moment,” Satoru tells her before he turns around and walks straight into Yaga’s empty office.
He doesn’t even have to turn around to know that Suguru is following him and just a few seconds later the door closes.
“What is going on, Satoru?” Suguru asks and Satoru heaves out a breath.
“What is supposed to be going on? I made you your fucking coffee, Suguru, what more do you want from me?”
“I want you to make me one of your stupid sugary concoctions!” Suguru gives right back and Satoru is at a complete loss.
“I don’t get it. You never complained about them but you also never said anything about them. I don’t know what’s going on.” It’s a first for Satoru to admit something like that and Suguru must realise that because his entire stance softens.
“The first time you made me something that was not my black coffee I almost came back,” he says, seemingly making sure to keep his composure. “But it turns out I like what you make me. I was looking forward to what you make me.”
“I wanted you to come back,” Satoru blurts out without thinking and Suguru frowns at him.
“You wanted me to complain?”
“I wanted you to come back so we could talk some more,” Satoru admits. “I changed shifts just for—" He cuts himself off but of course Suguru can finish what Satoru wanted to say perfectly well.
“I’m glad you changed shifts,” Suguru quietly says and steps closer to Satoru, who immediately takes a step back. “Satoru?”
“You should probably go,” Satoru bitterly says. “I bet Shoko is waiting for you somewhere already.”
It’s mean and way too telling, going by the sudden understanding washing over Suguru’s face, but he can’t take it back anymore.
“I wanted to introduce Shoko to Utahime,” Suguru says with a small smile. “She’s just her type.”
Satoru blinks.
“She’s gay?”
“I am, too,” Suguru tells him and dares to take another step towards Satoru.
“Huh, me too,” Satoru says, though it’s probably redundant at this point.
He already admitted he was trying to flirt with Suguru.
“So, what do we do with that now?” Suguru asks, that same warm smile on his face that first caught Satoru’s eyes and Satoru squares his shoulders.
“Kiss me,” he orders, clearly catching Suguru off guard with that but it barely takes him a second to digest Satoru’s demand before he leans in.
It sends tingles all through Satoru’s body, especially when his lips catch on the ring in Suguru’s lip and he doesn’t quite manage to suppress his low groan.
It’s better than anything Satoru daydreamed about and going by Suguru’s low chuckle against his lips he seems to know that somehow.
“You taste sweet, too,” he whispers without really pulling away and Satoru blinks his eyes open.
“I only make you my favourites,” he mutters.
“You have good taste,” Suguru says and Satoru leans in to get another taste of Suguru for himself.
“I really do,” he then agrees and it makes Suguru laugh again, clearly catching up on what Satoru really means.
“Now give me your number so we can meet outside of this shop and Nanami can have his morning shift back. He’s miserable in the afternoons.”
“He’s always miserable,” Satoru says out of reflex even as he’s busy getting his phone out. “You gonna take me out on a date?”
“I’m going to take you out on so many dates,” Suguru seriously says and leans in to nip at Satoru’s lips again, sliding Satoru’s phone out of his hands in the process. “This evening even if you have time.”
“Absolutely,” Satoru agrees without even thinking about it.
If he already has other plans, he’ll simply reschedule. Suguru takes precedence.
“Here you go. I’ll text you.”
Satoru can only blink, not even having noticed how Suguru put his number in and clearly messaged himself already and before he gets his bearings back Suguru already walked out of him.
“Hey,” Satoru calls after him, but he’s way too late and he can only watch Suguru’s broad back leave the shop.
And then he startles badly when his phone chimes.
It’s a text message and Satoru almost breaks the screen, he’s tapping on it so insistently.
Meet me here at 6pm for dinner the message says, accompanied by a link and Satoru wants to puff his cheek in outrage at the demanding tone of this but then he sees that Suguru saved his name with a little heart next to it and Satoru melts like a cube of sugar in a cup of coffee.
It’s hard to be mad when he has to smile so much.
#bt writes#jjk#satosugu#geto suguru#gojo satoru#no curses au#coffee shop#awkward flirting#pining#getting together#love confessions#first kiss
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Jake knows he feels too much, he’s felt too much for years.
Hangman.
Christ. If only they knew he had lists in his notes app for allergies, likes and dislikes, favorite foods and birthdays.
Hangman.
Yeah. It’d be more fitting if he had been the one to leave the other behind. But no, he was flying with Snakebite and the asshole left Jake behind but hadn’t done the move right. So Jake pulled forward and ahead and Snake had to abort.
Hangman.
He wishes he could take the persona off, but it settles on his shoulders like a jacket. He finds some comfort in it. Jake knows that Javy can see through it, why Jake always sticks close to Javy and doesn’t ask too many questions. Has the confidence in himself when he really hasn’t had any since his father kicked him out at 15.
Hangman.
He sits outside the hard deck in the sand, he hears someone come up behind him. It’s probably Javy. The only person whose ever come to check on him in 20 years.
“You good Jake?”
Oh. Oh. That’s not Javy. That’s Bradley.
He sniffs, “yeah what’s it to you Roo.”
Bradley lands on the sand next to Jake, he sits close enough their shoulders touch. “Saw you leave. But I also saw you start crying. Figured I’d check up on you.”
Jake let’s put a wet laugh, he scrubs at his eyes. Jake, such the fucking cry baby look at you now.
“Jake come on what’s up, are you okay? Are you hurt? Should I get Javy?” Jake shakes his head, “no let him have his night. It’s stupid anyways. I’m just a bit drunk.”
Hangman.
“Can’t be that stupid if it made you cry.”
Jake falls back into the sand, it’s easier this way, he can just stare at the stars instead of looking away from Bradley.
“Nat almost drank coconut rum.”
Bradley lays back in the sand next to Jake. “Not sure I follow. But keep talking.” Jake shakes his head. “She’s allergic. No one saw but me so I reminded her. She told me to fuck off, and that if she wanted a lecture from her mom she’d call her.”
Bradley let’s out a puff of air. “Shit. I didn’t know she was allergic.”
Jake laughs again. God this day can’t end fast enough. “Not dead allergic just enough it bothers her. She mentioned once a few years ago.”
Bradley nods, “you notice things about people. You care.”
Now it’s Jakes turn to nod, “reason I came out here was I figured no one would notice I was gone. Got too loud in there.”
“I notice.”
Now Jake turns to look at Bradley, he’s not sure what he’s expecting to see but the look of, caring? God Jake might even dare to say love? In Bradley’s eyes are a startling image.
“You always let Payback have shotgun because rarely gets car sick, you let Javy have all your pickles because he loves them. You remembered Nat is allergic to coconut even though I’ve known her for years and she mentioned it to you once.”
Bradley takes a breath sitting back up. “God Jake I think I notice everything about you.”
Jake is shocked that Bradley has been apparently watching him for years. Shit maybe his crush isn’t just one sided. He sits up, twisting to face Bradley head on.
“You care?”
Bradley smiles, “please god punch me if I got this wrong Jake but I more then care.”
And then he kisses Jake.
Bradley Bradshaw is kissing Jake Seresin.
Merry fucking Christmas in July to Jake.
Jake pulls away. “I’m a lot Bradley. I feel too much. I cry when dogs die in movies. I get angry around father related holidays. I have a weirdly dependent relationship with my best friend. I get it if you want to run away.”
Bradley takes Jake’s hand, he brings it up to his mouth kissing it and then using it to drag Jake into a hug. “I like a lot Jake. I’m grabby in the mornings. I take 30 minute showers. I cook but maybe not to the best level. I go full out at any holiday but I’m insufferably overkill around Valentine’s Day. I’m not running if you aren’t.”
Jake presses a kiss into Bradley’s neck. He feels tears in his eyes but for different reasons now. “Well I guess there’s only one way for me to know about the grabby morning part huh?”
Bradley laughs, he stands in one motion, and sticks a hand out for Jake to grab. “Wanna find out?”
Jake smiles up and grabs Bradley’s hand.
He’s not letting go. And he’s going to remember every damn moment of tonight.
#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#this is not part of my slider is jakes dad au#bradley bradshaw x jake seresin#top gun#top gun maverick#sorry to Nat but I needed a mean person for a sec#I love her though#Jake seresin has lots of feelings#javy coyote machado#Javy is the best friend#hangman name origin!!#I’m so wasted it’s not even funny
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Before going anywhere else, I stop at Frittte to drop off some more tare.
🎵 Fritte
The yellow roses in the window -- those aren't the flowers that were left for Klaasje.
VISUAL CALCULUS - The tracks are as they have ever been. A bit more worn, perhaps. Fortunately, the street sweeper still hasn't noticed their presence.
"This is where I started off with my motor carriage... before sinking it in the sea."
I think I got it. [Leave.]
KIM KITSURAGI - "No wonder the cafeteria manager seemed frustrated when he was giving us directions to the yard."
"Well," he gestures toward the gaping hole in the fence, "you did provide us with a very convenient access point to the crime scene."
Not sure how else we would get there, to be honest.
🎵 Whirling in Rags, 8 pm
We should be able to deal with the two winning options at once here...
Except we haven't paid for a room today, so we're locked out.
🎵 Miss Oranje Disco Dancer
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "I was just thinking -- what a nice day for questions." She lights a cigarette. "Pertaining to a murder investigation."
"Can I ask more about you? For the record."
"I need to talk to you about your room again."
"Let's talk more about this so-called assault."
[Volition - Legendary 14] Look her in the eye.
"Titus Hardie gave us a recording where the deceased states his intention to commit rape."
"What is this wild flower?" (Show her the flower.)
"Let's return to this later, miss."
Huh, did we... have that check before? I don't remember it.
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - She puts her coffee cup down.
PERCEPTION (HEARING ) [Easy: Success] - With a soft ring, as the porcelain meets the metal table.
EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - This does not surprise her.
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Did he?" A smile flits across her face. "I never said he was a good man. Or that he had good intentions -- only that he was never bad to me."
"On this tape he specifically identifies *you* as the target."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Mmm. Where did they get this recording, exactly?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's intercepted radio chatter of the deceased -- recorded via a de-encryption station. It's authentic enough."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Does he says he's gonna do it *Soldier of the Apocalypse*-style?" She arches her brow.
"Those are the exact words he used."
"Something to that effect, yes."
"No."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Yeah... That was practically his pick-up line." She picks the cup back up.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - A memory surfaces in her tired neocortex -- it's not entirely unpleasant.
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Did he say *whores* a lot?... Was he pretty much on the verge of *doing it Co Hoi-style*?"
"Yes. The word *whore* was used."
"Co Hoi *was* mentioned."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "He liked the way it *sounded* when he said it. As to Co Hoi..." The young woman lights a new cigarette with the butt of her old one.
"He wasn't *actually* there -- he didn't do a tour, or at least didn't tell me he did. Would've been overkill anyway. He lived his own little Co Hoi. It was in his... *everything*."
"Why say things like that? Machismo?"
"Do you think he was trying to scare people?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes -- was he bragging?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Oh no, I'm pretty sure he *did* all those things -- then integrated them into his idea of normalcy. To keep on living. Until they just... sort of turned into his..." She thinks. "What's the word I'm looking for?"
"Coping mechanism?"
"Catch phrase?"
"Persona?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Running joke. I was gonna say running joke -- and it sounds like you didn't even get the good bits. Lely's punchlines got way, way funkier than that."
"He was like the Semenese conflict, the Co Hoi massacre, and the '36 famine in Yeesut all rolled into one person, then cast in Oranjese ceramic armour. Which he wore in bed *and* in the shower..."
EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - When he said he was *done* and *done mentally* it didn't sound like a joke. Sounded like a deeply troubled man.
"Hold on, he said he was *mentally done*. That's sounds like a broken man to me."
"Weren't you afraid?"
"You like this kind of stuff?"
"And you spent time with this person? Romantically?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Well..." She smiles. "Maybe I pieced him back together -- with my magical personality?"
"Weren't you afraid?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Afraid of what? That tape the Hardie boys recorded? Your mother probably never told you this, but girls are *evil*."
"Had I the physical robustness and social support I'd be *in* Co Hoi, *I* would be tearing it up *Soldier of the Apocalypse*-style..."
HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - She wouldn't, she doesn't have the Full Hoi in her.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Did he tell you he had actually *done* any of those things -- here in Martinaise, I mean?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "No. We were too busy laying waste our own nervous systems to direct any of the *fury* outward. He seemed..." She thinks. "He seemed happy, I guess. At ease. As much as a man like him could be."
SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - There is a small measure of pride in her. That she could quell the rage in such a being.
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - What kind of man *was* he? Before you go, ask for details. She seems okay to talk about it.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Thank you for clearing that up, miss." He turns to you. "Whenever you're ready -- I'm interested to hear what Titus Hardie has to say now."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - She takes a very small sip of her coffee and smiles.
Before we ask her any more, let's try this Volition check.
4. [Volition - Legendary 14] Look her in the eye.
+1 Slight confusion about bullet.
VOLITION [Legendary: Failure] - She looks back, time moves slowly. The triangles of her face rearranging into a weary smile...
SUGGESTION [Trivial: Success] - Don't worry. We will protect you from her beauty. We will *consult* you through the reefs and sounds of her persona.
DRAMA [Easy: Success] - We will see through deceits. You are shielded. You are wise.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - You are advised. There are muscles on long white bones that line her limbs, just below the silver jumpsuit...
What is... happening?
Avert your eyes.
CONCEPTUALIZATION - Nothing. Just time passing. Don't worry.
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - Anything out of the ordinary and you would be notified.
ENDURANCE [Trivial: Success] - Air moves in your windpipe. Your heart beats. You're a detective -- get back to detecting.
Am I being... beguiled?
Avert your eyes.
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - She presses her elbows against her waist and slowly turns her head.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] - Her hair brushes her shoulders, making a small hissing sound, almost imperceptible...
2. Avert your eyes.
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - The strange moment ends. It was brief, no longer than 2.2 seconds.
5. "Now that you've had some time -- can you tell us more about the victim?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "Like -- for example -- his name?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Actually, officer, I didn't know his name. I just called him Lely."
KIM KITSURAGI - "A nickname?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "I guess. He came from Lelystad -- it's short for that. And it was his *army name*, apparently. He said his real name wasn't *his*. I tried to pry it out of him, but it was no use."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Lelystad. That's a good start..." The lieutenant writes it down in his notebook...
…then tears out a page and hands it to you. "We have a few questions you can help us with. A few things a field autopsy alone can't answer."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - The young woman cranes her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the page the lieutenant passed to you. On it is a list of autopsy observations, recorded neatly in blue ink.
INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - The last missing pieces of a puzzle of flesh.
"Where is Lelystad? The place, I mean?"
"How old was he, miss?"
"His eye colour?"
"He had a tattoo -- what did it mean?"
"Tell me something odd -- did he enjoy his death?"
"Could it be love that *did him in*?"
"We requested a semen screening from Processing."
"I think we're finished with this line of questioning." (Hand the lieutenant back his notes.)
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "In Oranje, officer. It's a... I think *municipality* is the term? A nowhere-town there."
KIM KITSURAGI - "You were *almost* right, officer." The lieutenant shakes his head, like you just missed a shot in darts. "That means his race was Occidental, not Mondial. I'll update the form."
(Look at Klaasje.) "You were both from Oranje?"
(Look at the autopsy paper.) "Moving on..."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Yes. We were compatriots."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Did that bring you together?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "No. He was too old for that -- and from another part of Oranjenrijk. I didn't even understand his accent. What brought us together wasn't Oranje -- it was bad habits."
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - Sex, alcohol...
2. "How old was he, miss?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "He was forty-two."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Forty-two? Are you sure? I would have had him above fifty..."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "He had many scars that made him appear older. But no." The memory makes her smile.
"We even celebrated his birthday, like, some weeks ago… It was a funny two days. He had little reason to lie to me."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Looks like you were right, officer." The lieutenant taps on his notebook once. As though assigning some kind of *point*...
PAIN THRESHOLD [Easy: Success] - Points are good. Have one, you old dog! Before we all die...
+1 Health
"I did not know this was a competition, Kim."
Better not to mention it...
KIM KITSURAGI - "It isn't. Police work is a *cooperative* sport."
3. "His eye colour?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Blue, light blue. They were like..." She stops, her eyes half closed, then continues: "Like little blue galaxies, you know. It was strange, seeing those eyes in his fucked up face..."
"Pardon the swearing." She takes a drag. "I do him an injustice -- he wasn't ugly. And he had a beautiful, soft voice. Very surprising, what with all the scarring. It was quite something, watching him speak."
KIM KITSURAGI - "He had a combat wound -- on his chin and mouth?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Yes. *Severe*." She seems to enjoy the word. "It made him look like half his face was cracking away in some strange smile. That and those eyes..."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh yes," the lieutenant suddenly remembers. "His hair -- if you can remember?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "It was light brown, almost blond. He darkened it with brilliantine. Made it oily. Not nice to stroke. I couldn't convince him to leave it alone."
"Interesting -- I too have stroked his hair."
"Kim, I said to put the brilliantine on the form -- do I get a point?"
"Let's get to the rest."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Oily, isn't it..." She says, unfazed. She draws on her cigarette and lets the smoke linger for a moment in her mouth. "We have that in common now."
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - She understands what autopsies entail. It doesn't get her off-balance.
"Kim, I said to put the brilliantine on the form -- do I get a point?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "No," he answers dryly.
"But I put it down, there…" (Point to the red autopsy slip.)
"Okay."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Okay. Sure. Here you go. What else are we missing, officer?" he asks, trying to get the questioning back on track.
+5 XP
4. "He had a tattoo -- what did it mean?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Oh." She smiles. "*That*."
SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - It's clear she *liked* it.
"You liked it?"
"It was an Oranjese Map of the Waterways?"
"It was a map of his service history?"
"What did it represent -- do you know?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Quite a lot, yes."
"It was an Oranjese Map of the Waterways?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Sure, waterways... It was mostly for showing off to chicks though."
"For showing off to chicks? How so?"
"Thank you. A few more questions..."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "How?" She leans back. "Imagine him lying in bed, *freakish* musculature laid out on the sheets. Scarred, of course. Tattooed. The sheets are dirty for some reason."
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Is this Oranjese lit?
"Is this Oranjese lit?"
Don't interrupt.
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Yes. This is the very *essence* of Oranjese lit -- a moment's respite. Dark and hopeless as the struggle itself." She leans even further back to demonstrate.
"He's smoking and drinking, of course. And his chest and shoulders and arms are studded with stars. Tens, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands."
"And the woman goes like..." She points at the air with her sharp-nailed finger, picking out an imaginary tattoo-star. "'What was *this*, baby?'"
"And he says..." She lowers her voice, comically. "'That was *too* hard core. Don't ask me about that.' So she goes: 'Okay. But what's this, baby?' And he's like: 'Saw some bad shit there, killed some loincloths.'"
"And so it goes -- star after star, port after port, third world country after third world country. And he's done horrible things in every single one of them."
"You were the woman in this?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Oh yeah." She nods.
"Can you tell us precisely what these mean?" (Hand her the photo.)
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "No thank you." She does not take it. "I've seen enough of him dead. I can tell you what they *meant* without looking at them." She pours herself some more coffee.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Go on."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "He was a blue-eyed boy with thick arms. From a small town. He was also *poor*, and the government of Oranje needed some people killed, so they turned him into a grotesque killer -- for money."
"He went to Killer Academy in Vredefort. Then he killed some people on the Semenine islands. And on other islands too -- all of the islands. After this he came to Revachol and got killed himself."
"Not a very fun story."
"Good story. Thanks."
"Thank you for clearing that up."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "It *is* when you're high. It can be very exciting then -- you have the tools to deal with it. It's not a very nice story to remember when you're sober." She smiles faintly. "A change of topic?"
4. "Tell me something odd -- did he enjoy his death?"
VOLITION [Mediium: Success] - Just have her answer the question. Don't give explanations.
"Please answer the question, miss. Did he enjoy the moment of his death?"
"It's just a feeling I have. Indulge me."
"It came to me in an *occult vision*."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "It very well could be, yes."- "I don't think he *enjoyed* dying, officer. He had too much left to do -- too many third world conflicts. Couldn't tap out just yet."
DRAMA [Easy: Success] - Everything checks out here. It's all A-Okay. Good answer.
5. "Could it be love that *did him in*?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "It very well could be, yes."- "It very well could be, yes."
"What do you mean?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "What *do* I mean?" She raises an eyebrow. "I have no idea. I don't even know what *you* mean. Love did him in? What does that mean?"
"He told me -- love did him in."
"Okay then. Another question."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "That's not funny, officer."
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Her voice is like a slash through the air. Her shoulders tense up.
6. "We requested a semen screening from Processing."
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Good for you."
KIM KITSURAGI - "What do you think it will tell us?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "I don't know how a semen sample works, officers. How many days after intercourse does it have to be -- I don't even know if he had sex with someone else. We didn't *go steady*."
RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Is she avoiding anything? Technically not.
VOLITION [Easy: Success] - See? There's something off here. This one *must* know she's deploying flares and countermeasures.
7. "I think we're finished with this line of questioning." (Hand the lieutenant back his notes.)
KIM KITSURAGI - "Alright." The lieutenant puts the slip back in his notes and observes the young woman for a moment.
Task complete: Question Klaasje about the dead man
+10 XP
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - Coolly, gracefully, she pours herself more coffee.
7. "Let's return to this later, miss." [Leave.]
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Why not? I'll be here until 23.00, drinking coffee most likely..."
VISUAL CALCULUS - Wait, stop -- that man, bloated beyond all recognition, was 42?
It's what she said, yes.
[Discard thought.]
VISUAL CALCULUS - Below the damage, the weeks of decomposition, all the swollen indignity of mortality -- he was 42 years old?
Where is this going?
VISUAL CALCULUS - How old are *you*? That's where this is going. Forty-five thousand litres of raw alcohol has left its disfigurements. What lies beneath, you wonder.
REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - You could ask either one of them.
"Kim, how old do you think I am?"
(Turn around.) "Miss, how old do you think I am?"
I got this, I got this... My age -- I think I'm...
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Huh?" She leans in closer. "How old do I think you are?"
"I don't know... 40? I was like 9 when OO peaked. That was, what? Nineteen years ago? I liked them when I was 9. You couldn't have liked it when you were 40..."
"Let's say you were twenty-something. Twenty five. A good disco age. Twenty five plus nineteen is forty four. I'm gonna say you're 44."
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Wow!
"Wow."
"Forty four? I'm young!"
"Forty four? You think so?"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Yeah. I have a university degree, you know." She flicks ash from her cigarette.
"Forty four? I'm young!"
KLAASJE (MISS ORANJE DISCO DANCER) - "Absolutely. Age is just a number, man."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes miss, but..." The lieutenant disagrees. "For him that number is *56*."
VISUAL CALCULUS - Wait! This requires *scientific* measurements.
Bring it on. I am not afraid of the truth.
I don't want to think about this any more.
VISUAL CALCULUS - To the Laboratorium!
Thought gained: Date of Birth Generator
DATE OF BIRTH GENERATOR
Temporary research bonus: None
Research time: 7h 15m
Your face looks like it’s 58 and your body feels like it’s 60. Your mind feels like it’s lived for one day or a hundred. Both longer than they ought to be, the day and the century.... But for how long, then, has this thing attached to your sentience walked the planet’s crust? Time to start racking those brains of yours, Elder One. When and where were you born?
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Recollections and Heartfelt Wishes 5
Writer: Mitsuki
Character(s): Mashiro Tomoya, Otogari Adonis, Oogami Koga, Kiryu Kuro, Nito Nazuna, Hasumi Keito, Sakuma Rei
Translated by: stcrfeesh
CN/EN Proof by: jewwyfeesh
Rei: Fufufu, it is a rather long story. Though, I wonder what new changes a growing Koga shall bring about to UNDEAD. I am looking forward to it ♪
Season: Summer
Location: Amusement Park Stage
Nazuna: We’re all done here for today! Come on over and get rest, I got some drinks for everyone too ♪
Koga: Oh, I just happen to be thirsty too. Aren’t you a pretty reliable guy.
Nazuna: Koga-chin, Adonis-chin, and you too, Kuro-chin, please let me properly thank each one of you for today! We couldn’t have done it without you guys!
You guys should’ve been having fun and enjoying yourselves here at the amusement park, but instead, you ended up sticking around to help me and Tomo-chin out. Sorry about that.
Koga: I thought it would’ve made more sense to do this~ Besides, Kiryu-senpai said you pitched in for these tickets. Take this as me returnin’ the favour.
Kuro: I didn’t really expect mascot work to suit ya, Oogami. I dare say you ended up hoggin’ the spotlight from the few of us — the crowd loved you.
Adonis: Agreed. Although Oogami wasn’t sure of how mascots worked at first and was naturally clumsy, that clumsiness added flair to his charm and attracted many people to us.
Once he got used to it, he looked really cool air-guitaring [1] in the dog mascot. A lot of kids started imitating him and had a lot of fun.
Koga: Hah! Of course I’d look cool! Unfortunately, they didn’t have a wolf mascot, so I had no choice but to put on the dog one.
But y’all should always, always remember that I’m a lone wolf! And that’s never gonna change — ever!
Nazuna: Whatever you say~ If we get the chance to work with them again in the future, I’ll try to suggest adding a wolf mascot as well. After all, wolves can be both cool and kind too, don’t you think~?
Tomoya: Phew… Sorry about that, I made you guys wait too long!
Since the promotional performance was such a big hit, and we even got other idols to promote with us, other than the additional pay for overtime work, they even gave us some extra tickets, other souvenirs and trinkets.
Please feel free to take whatever you like. After all, this is also our client’s token of gratitude.
Koga: Oooh, that guitar keychain doesn’t look too shabby, I’m callin’ dibs on it ♪ Adonis, do you want one too?
Adonis: Oh, thank you.
Nazuna: I’ll just give mine to Hajime-chin. I’m sure he would really love to share it with his younger siblings ♪
Kuro: Now that you’ve mentioned it, I should probably ask my li’l sister if she wants to come here over the summer too. Since movin’ to Seishou Hall, it’s probably been a hot minute since I last got to spend some time with her.
I could take advantage of this time to write up an itinerary for her beforehand. Do you guys think girls would want to ride on that roller coaster…? Or would that be too overkill?
…Hold up. Why’s that kid all alone by the coaster’s ticket booth with his head hung low and cryin’? Is he lost?
Nazuna: Hm? Do you know him, Kuro-chin?
Kuro: Nah, I just saw him when I first started handin’ out those balloons from earlier. I might’ve scared him at that time that he almost fell over.
We just locked eyes now, I feel like the kid’s still afraid of me. Nito, could I trouble you guys to go check up on him? If he is lost, his family’s probably worried by now.
Nazuna: Kuro-chin…
Location: Amusement Park
Koga: Oi, you there, what’s with that gloomy look for, huh? And here I thought somethin’ bad happened.
Don’t you wanna ride the roller coaster? If you don’t wanna go alone, then I could just go with you, you know!
Nazuna: K-Koga-chin, let’s not get ahead of ourselves… It’s probably best to ask the child what he actually wants first.
Koga: Tch, if this guy can’t make up his damn mind, then he should get out of my sight.
Kuro: Yo, Otogari. I could hear Oogami’s loud voice all the way from here, but I still don’t think I should go over… Could I trouble you to tell me what’s goin’ on over that?
Adonis: Of course. Basically, the kid came here together with his friends, but all of them went their separate ways to do their own thing, so now he has no one to ride the roller coaster with.
Actually, the roller coaster’s quite famous in the neighbourhood. It seems to be some kind of symbol of courage to the kids.
He’s always wanted to try it out but was too scared to go alone. That’s why he just stood there, lamenting over how he wasn’t brave enough to do it.
Tomoya: Huh… I think I really get how he’s probably feeling. I’m the same too, whenever I bump into problems that seem hard to solve. I end up wanting to give up because I’m so bummed over how I don’t have what it takes to get through it.
But if he does manage to overcome this obstacle, then this would help him grow a lot.
Koga: …‘Kay then, he says he’s fine with it, so let’s go ride that roller coaster now!
Tomoya: Ahaha, you seem really assertive, Oogami-senpai. It makes me wonder if the kid even had a choice…
Koga: Oi, what are you even shiverin’ for? We’re literally just linin’ up, the real challenge has yet to come.
Haaaa? So you’re sayin’ you’re already tryin’ your best to mentally prepare yourself, but the screamin’ of other people still scares you?
…You’re hopeless. Fine, take my hand then. Ain’t it really reassurin’ to have someone by your side?
Since you chose to pluck up the courage to face this and not run away from it, I’ll let you in on a secret.
Look closely, ai’ght? If you ever feel like a cat on hot bricks, all you have to do is do this sign with your hand and yell, “ROCK N’ ROLL—”!!
There we go! That’s how you do it! Just scream out all your pent-up feelin’s! Aren’t you a natural at this ♪
Kuro: Haha, looks like Oogami’s back to his usual self. I never thought that he’d be this good with kids.
But I still don’t think I’ll be up for roller coaster rides as a form of entertainment anytime soon… That to me is like an upgraded vehicle version of a trial to hell.
Nazuna: Ahaha, you’ve already done enough for us today, Kuro-chin. If it triggers your motion sickness, you shouldn’t have to push yourself to do it.
Besides, we have our reliable Koga-chin to accompany the kid. So let’s all just sit back, relax, and watch the brave warrior save the day ♪
— A few minutes later
Koga: Yo—! I’m back! Sorry for makin’ everyone wait!
Adonis: Hm? Oogami, what’s that in your hand?
Koga: Oh, it’s a copy of a photo from when we rode the roller coaster. I mean, this is proof of our courage ♪
Look at our photo, don’t you think we look real cool and swag?
Adonis: Ah. The both of you did that Rock n’ Roll sign with your hands as the roller coaster fell. I think that’s rather creative.
Tomoya: Plus, Oogami-senpai’s other hand has been holding the kid’s hand tightly the entire time so he wouldn’t feel scared. I never thought you could be this considerate.
Koga: Oi, oi. I was just showin’ this to y’all so you could praise me for bein’ cool! Stop goin’ off-track, would you?!
…Oh, right. That li’l brat still has somethin’ he wants to do.
Kuro: Oh? Why’s that kid suddenly walkin’ towards me? What on earth is happenin’?
You wanna apologise to me? So you’re try’na tell me that you ran away earlier not because you hated me, but because you sized me up so quickly from my appearance alone and thought I looked mean, so you ran away?
And then you realised I wasn’t even scary at all after ya mustered up the courage from ridin’ that rollercoaster? That Oogami-nii-chan over there told ya real courageous warriors know how to own up to their mistakes and apologise for them?
Haha, I didn’t take it to heart, so, it’s fine. Ya really seem to be becomin’ braver, good boy, good boy ♪
Nazuna: Sobs… This is great… Koga-chin, thank you so much for today.
Koga: Hah? But I didn’t even do anythin’? I just tried to knock some sense into that guy, so what are ya even thankin’ me for?
Nazuna: The kid even says he wants to be as cool and as mature as you in the future. Looks like you’ve become his role model, Koga-chin ♪
Koga: Ahah… Seems like you have a good eye for things, huh. Well then, you’re my kouhai now.
If you ever get the chance to, you should watch a performance of mine with UNDEAD. I’m sure I’m gonna rock you to the depths of your soul!
…Oh. It was so fuckin’ simple. How could I not have figured it out sooner?
…Be true to yourself and let your thoughts be known. Without that, not even monsters would be able to understand each other. [2]
If there are still idiots who can’t seem to comprehend that either, then all I have to do is bring out my best rock n’ roll to knock some sense into them!
U! N! D! E! A! D! We are~?
Koga and Adonis: UNDEAD! (Hi-fives each other)
Nazuna: (Haha, it looks like Koga-chin has finally pulled himself together. Perhaps we’ve already achieved today’s goal ♪)
Kuro: (Yeah. I still dunno what Oogami was dealin’ with in the first place, but it looks like he already has it all figured out, and that’s great.)
— Meanwhile, in RhyLink’s conference room… [3]
Rei: Mmm, I see. It seems like the problem has finally been resolved, I can now be at ease.
Keito: …? Sakuma, what are you talking about while looking at your phone? Did you receive information about work?
Rei: Unfortunately, you are wrong. Adonis-kun sent me a photo of him and Koga in the amusement park. Seeing such joyous smiles on the faces of your juniors is quite healing ♪
Should I find the chance to do so, I must remember to thank Kiryu-kun and Nito-kun for taking such good care of UNDEAD’s juniors.
Keito: Thank Kiryu and Nito…? Seriously, could you stop beating around the bush and just tell me the whole story?
Rei: Fufufu, it is a rather long story. Though, I wonder what new changes a growing Koga shall bring about to UNDEAD. I am looking forward to it ♪
Translator's notes:
[1]: Air guitar is a form of dance and movement in which the performer pretends to play an imaginary rock or heavy metal-style electric guitar, including riffs and solos. (Wikipedia)
[2]: Not a really important translation note, but I wanted to share that the original dialogue of this line was worded in such a confusing way that it took me so much copium (along with back and forth cross-referencing between the traditional and simplified versions) about the story before it clicked in my little feesh brain. A big thank you to my tl partner too, for accompanying me on my copium journey HAHAHA.
(from jewwy: it was fun while the both of us screamed our little feesh brains out about this line, lol~ thank you for accompanying me on this journey as well <3)
[3]: The official info sheet from the game does not include Keito or Rei in this chapter's listed character appearances. But…! Here they are!
(from jewwy: (inserts surprising thanks lyrics))
← Chapter 4 | ES x LC Masterlist
#enstars translation#fragments of light and shadow#recollections and heartfelt wishes#Mashiro Tomoya#Otogari Adonis#Oogami Koga#Kiryu Kuro#Nito Nazuna#Hasumi Keito#Sakuma Rei
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From the prompt “When I said it, I thought it was true”, given to me by @thirdymeowy
I didn’t really like him. I was just using him.
When I said it, I thought it was true. Knew it would always be true.
When we first met, he hated me. But gradually, despite his knowledge of what I truly was, he grew attached. He didn’t want to of course. He knew it was dangerous. But, still, he did, like so many others before.
Though, of course, attached in the way one is charmed by a cute animal or a cartoon character. No one ever treated you like a real person, which you suppose was fair, with the whole emotionless parasite shtick you had going on.
“So Fresh. Your pick on movie night tonight, huh? Let me guess, The Parent Trap?”
You take a moment to respond, lost in thought.
“Fresh?” Error sounds almost… concerned?
“Huh? Oh, uh yeah. Of course homeskillet! That one’s a classic brah!”
You try to keep your tone light and careless.
You don’t want anyone at all, especially not someone you need, to know about what’s been happening to you lately. With the whole… caring about people thing.
Oh yeah, you forgot to try to work out a solution for that like you planned. You had a whole two hours to burn after all. It’s not like you’d really be watching the movie. You could never be distracted by a story for long before noticing how unrealistic it was. People sacrificing others needs over their own? C’mon man, let’s be real here, that would never actually happen. No matter what people promise.
You had no idea how to fix it if you were really being honest. You spend your whole life above everyone else, and suddenly, you have to deal with these stupid feelings?? It just wasn’t fair! You had no need nor desire for them, and they only got in the way! They were almost as useless as you were without a host.
You notice the room is silent other than the movie, and are startled to see Error has fallen asleep right next to you. Strange, Error usually loves to make fun of “cheesy” movies like this. And you’ve never seen him sleeping.
You notice an odd feeling in your chest.
You can hear Error breathing next to you.
You can’t help but wonder why he bothers with you. You’re useless to him. So why does he keep you around?
You see his eyes sleepily blink open, and realize you’ve been staring at him for a bit too long and that an hour has passed.
“Huh, Fresh? What are you staring at?” Error sleepily asked.
“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just thinking dawg,” you explained, already feeling like you said something wrong. Was saying “dawg” overkill?
“Oh alright. Uh, if you don’t mind me asking… what about?”
Where could you begin? That you could suddenly feel for the first time in your life? That you actually enjoyed his company?
…that you were scared?
“I’m just glad to be around you.” You say instead, knowing you aren’t ready to seriously talk to him yet.
Maybe someday.
“Huh. That was surprisingly genuine.”
Error sounds fairly surprised.
“…thanks.”
#My writing#my art#utmv#underfresh#errortale#error!sans#error sans#fresh!sans#fresh parasite#fresh sans#sansy fresh#Undertale multiverse#sans au#I have an idea for the other prompt that follows AFaE canon and we'll see if that ends up made
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Secret’s Out
Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2
Bruce was looking at his emails when Y/N arrived at the table.
She was breathing heavily and her hair was a bit messy, just further proving she had rushed to get there.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she huffed embarrassingly. “My shoot ran over and every one was moving so slowly.”
Bruce smiled. “Y/N. Relax.”
Then he stood up to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.
The two of them hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Y/N had been traveling for work constantly. And between the vigilante life and Wayne Enterprises, Bruce was running on 2 hours of sleep on the daily.
“I need a drink,” Y/N finally sighed after she got situated.
As if on cue, their waitress dropped Y/N’s favorite drink in front of her.
Y/N eyed Bruce with surprise.
He just shrugged.
Sometimes Y/N forgot how much her father noticed literally everything.
“Thank you,” she told the waitress.
“You’re overworking yourself,” Bruce said with a disapproving look.
She rolled her eyes. “Really? You’re not one to talk, Bruce.”
“You deserve a vacation. I’ll pay for it. Pick wherever you want. Bring Jason. Or some friends.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Bruce…”
It was a warning.
From the very start of their unconventional father-daughter relationship, Y/N had made it clear that she could not be bought. And Bruce spoiling her made her extremely uncomfortable. Even now, she still tried to at least split restaurant checks with him. Bruce always won those battles though.
“I’ll take a vacation when you do,” she finally countered.
That sure shut him up.
“Hey, I actually brought you something,” Y/N changed the subject as she reached for her bag.
A moment later, she lightly placed a manila folder onto the table.
Bruce’s brow furrowed as he reached for it.
As soon as he opened it, he froze.
“I had to clean out some stuff and put things into storage,” Y/N explained. “I found all my mom’s photos. I figured I could make copies of some childhood photos for you.”
Bruce’s silence made Y/N nervous.
“If you don’t want them, that’s totally fine.” She started to reach for the folder out of Bruce’s grip with awkward embarrassment. “It was stupid–”
But Bruce quickly pulled the folder closer to him and stopped her from taking the photos from him.
“Thank you,” he announced.
It made Y/N quickly sit back in her chair, caught off guard by his sincere reaction and how he’d immediately become protective of the photos.
Bruce awkwardly cleared his throat. “Thank you, Y/N.”
He repeated to make sure she understood how thankful he truly was. And Y/N suspected the throat clearing was to hide his emotions.
Now she watched as Bruce slowly went through every picture. He took in every detail with a soft smile.
These weren’t just photos. These were all of Y/N’s memories that Bruce missed, that he could never get back. And he was savoring all of them.
Then Bruce paused and was fully smiling now.
“What?” Y/N asked.
She didn’t know why all of this made her so nervous.
Bruce didn’t say anything as he lifted a photo and flipped it to show her.
It wasn’t from her childhood.
It was a black and white photo of Jason. A candid from when he had escorted her around the slums of Gotham for her most recent gallery show.
After months of thinking about it, Y/N finally had decided she wanted to frame it and hang it somewhere in her apartment.
Y/N’s jaw dropped with embarrassment and she ripped it from his hands.
“I was developing some photos at the same time as I was making the copies. Must’ve gotten mixed up in those,” Y/N explained too quickly, unable to meet Bruce’s gaze.
It made Bruce happy to know that Y/N didn’t have the same inability to love someone and let people in like he did. It was a relief that she didn’t isolate herself from it like he had. If her mother was still alive, Bruce would thank her for it. But if Y/N’s mother were alive, he would’ve never known about Y/N in the first place.
Their entire dinner was spent with Bruce looking at the old photos. He had at least two questions for each one. Some of them Y/N didn’t remember being taken. But most of them came with stories or a loving memory.
Y/N talked for most of the meal. But that’s exactly what Bruce wanted.
Furthermore, Bruce had nothing of value to update her on. Batman business had consumed his life as of lately, and he had made a promise to never involve Y/N in any of it. And Jason seemed to be on the same page when it came to his other life as Red Hood.
Both men seemed determined to keep her safe and away from it all.
Two hours later, Bruce was paying the check and helping Y/N into her coat.
“I’ll give you a ride home,” he muttered as they started walking out.
Y/N had learned by now to give up on those small battles. Jason was the same way when it came to making sure she got home safely.
As they made their way to the exit, Y/N caught a few stares from other patrons who were still eating.
“Do you ever get used to it?” She asked her father in a low voice.
“Get used to what?” He asked, genuinely unaware of what she was getting at.
“People gawking at you.”
Bruce glanced around and unintentionally glared at anyone who was staring at Y/N.
“It’s good that I’m seen in public…for obvious reason,” he hinted in a quiet voice, obviously talking about needing the cover to continue his life as a masked vigilante.
Once they were outside, Alfred was already waiting at the curb with the Rolls-Royce. He greeted Y/N with a hug and a kiss to her cheek before opening the door for her and Bruce.
When they got to Y/N’s apartment building, she said her goodbyes to Alfred. And Bruce walked Y/N all the way up to her door.
Even though Y/N insisted it was overkill and she could get up the stairs on her own just fine, Bruce had seen too many terrible things in this forsaken city. He could think of thousands of things that could happen to Y/N between the car and her front door.
Once Y/N realized that Bruce’s paranoia came from experience, she stopped trying to stop his chivalry and overprotective ways. She finally understood that Bruce had seen things that would prevent her from ever sleeping again. So if walking Y/N to her door gave him a little peace of mind, she wasn’t going to take that away from him.
Y/N turned to Bruce when they reached her door. “Thanks again for dinner.”
“Of course. I’m glad we could spend some time together. Thank you again for the photos.”
Y/N didn’t realize that Bruce was about to hang every single one around Wayne Manor.
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug. “Get home safe.”
——————
Y/N woke up wrapped strong arms, her body overheating slightly.
When she had come home from dinner last night, Jason had already left for patrol.
He hadn’t woken her up when he got back home, just proving how exhausted Y/N had been these past few weeks.
But it was the continuous buzzing vibrations of her phone that woke her up. When she brightened the screen, she saw that she had dozens of text messages and three missed called from Bruce.
“What the fuck,” Y/N whispered as she started opening them.
But they were all about the same thing.
Everyone had sent her similar articles from various gossip websites or news outlets.
BRUCE WAYNE’S NEW GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS PHOTOGRAPHER Y/F/N Y/L/N
BRUCE WAYNE’S FLAVOR OF THE WEEK
IS Y/F/N Y/L/N USING THE PRINCE OF GOTHAM TO FURTHER HER CAREER?
All of the headlines were joined with photos of Bruce and Y/N having dinner last night. Apparently other customers at the restaurant had snuck photos of Bruce greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Y/N could see how it would be misinterpreted as romantic and not familial or platonic. But it still made her sick to see the photos twisted in such a way.
Then there were paparazzi photos of them getting in a car together. Of course there were none of Bruce dropping her off and them going their separate ways. That would be just too convenient for the two of them.
Y/N’s stomach dropped with panic.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she gasped without realizing it.
Jason immediately woke up. “What is it?”
Y/N ignored him and called Bruce.
“I’m handling it,” was how Bruce answered her call.
“Handling it? How exactly?” She challenged. “We can deny the rumors all we want. But everyone is going to keep tabs on us now, and they’re going to see us together again.”
Jason grabbed his own phone.
One of his brothers must’ve sent him a similar article because he rubbed his face in annoyance, finally understanding the situation.
Nothing like your girlfriend being rumored to have a relationship with her father, who was also your mentor and adoptive father.
“Y/N, it will blow over. It always does,” Bruce tried to calm her down.
“So what happens when I get photographed with Jason? Huh? They’re going to just say I’m cheating on both of you with each other or some fucked up shit like that.”
Bruce was silent, because they both knew she was right.
Y/N glanced at Jason, who was already waiting for her gaze.
She took in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Maybe we should…Maybe we should just tell the truth.”
“You’ve never wanted that, Y/N.” Bruce tried to argue.
And he was right.
Y/N was terrified of being associated with the Wayne family. People would start believing she secretly built her career off of nepotism that no one was aware of. She also didn’t want that type of attention from the media and the upperclass of Gotham.
“I don’t think we have any other choice,” Y/N finally answered.
Jason reached for thigh and gripped it, trying to offer her some sort of comfort.
“Y/N, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked slowly.
“No. Not at all. But I’d rather not have the public think I’m dating my biological father.”
“OK,” Bruce sighed. “I’ll talk to my publicist today.”
“OK.” She bit her lip before adding. “Just…tell them the whole story.”
“Y/N, if you’re worried how it will make me look, don’t.”
“But I am worried about it, Bruce. They’re going to drag you for being an absent father. And none of that is true. They’re not gonna understand.”
“I’ll call you later with an update,” he told her softly before hanging up.
Y/N tossed her phone to the foot of the bed in frustration.
Jason watched as she buried her face in her hands.
“You OK?” He asked as he rubbed her back.
“No,” she answered honestly.
“Come here.” Jason pulled her into his chest.
There was no fight from her as he cuddled her tightly.
“This is a fucking nightmare,” she groaned into his shoulder.
“I know. But maybe it’s for the best,” he tried to reason with her.
“And what happens when they catch wind that I’m dating my father’s adoptive son? Huh?”
“We’re not actually related, Y/N.”
She pulled her face back so she could glare at him. “Yeah! We know that! But you do understand that people are going to see it that way, right? Like we’re gonna look like some fucked up incestual couple to them.”
“I don’t really care,” Jason finally told her.
“You don’t care?” She scoffed.
“No,” his answer and confidence didn’t waver. “I don’t give a fuck what people say about us, Y/N. If exposing the truth means we don’t have to think twice about going to events or even just going out to dinner, then I’m all for it. I’m sick of hiding our relationship.”
Y/N blinked. She never considered that their subtle relationship bothered him in any way. She was always a strangely private person, so it felt normal to her. But clearly Jason had been wanting to be a bit more public with their relationship.
“What if this changes everything?” Y/N whispered, not meeting his eyes.
Jason smirked at that and gripped her chin, lifting it up so she would look at him. “Some paparazzi and trash tabloids aren’t going to change how I feel about you, Y/N.”
Y/N laughed lightly at that.
“Maybe we should leave Gotham for a bit,” she offered. “Bruce won’t shut up about paying for a vacation for us.”
Jason nodded. “I think that sounds like a good idea. You’ve needed a break for awhile now.”
“Well…where do you wanna go?” Y/N asked.
“Doesn’t matter to me. As long as you’re there.”
She rolled her eyes and hit Jason in the face with a pillow. “God, you really are a sap.”
Y/N appreciated Jason always being able to make her feel better and feel supported.
But even he couldn’t stop her from wondering...
What would life be like as a Wayne?
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Father of Mine – Bonus Content
#father of mine bonus content#father of mine#bruce wayne x daughter#bruce wayne x daughter!reader#father!bruce wayne#dad!bruce wayne#dad!batman#batdad#jason todd x reader#jason todd reader insert#red hood reader insert#red hood x reader#batfam#batboys
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hi !! is it ok if i request a one-shot kaeya x reader? i've had this phrase in my mind for a bit and i just dont know what to do with it. "uh.. kaeya? you can stop holding my hand now..."
Yes, of course it is! I may or may not have written this when I saw it and it may or may not have been really early in the morning when I did, but I love getting prompts like this!
Enjoy!
No Hurry To Let You Go
Kaeya x Reader
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Happy Windblume Festival!” You greet another guest to Mondstadt, one who had just asked you for directions and was now on their way up to see the church of Barbatos. Quite the crowd had seemed to amass on this particular day, and it was hard to even see the usual faces around - Marjorie would be making a lot of sales today, as would Flora, but the sheer amount of people stopped you from witnessing the sight.
Yeah, you weren’t too good with crowds. The thought of stepping into this, where you would be pushed around and have to say 'excuse me' a hundred or so times was rather offputting, for many reasons. So, instead, you hovered by the blacksmith’s forgery, waiting for the crowd to disperse ever so slightly into the festivities.
The problem was, though, that you had been waiting for three hours.
Your eyes wander through the crowd to seek out a familiar face - any would do. Why did there have to be just so, so many guests here today?
“Hey, fancy joining me at the tavern for a bit?” A voice beside you - a familiar presence indeed - appears out of nowhere. You startle slightly, much to his amusement.
“Ah, good afternoon Kaeya.” You smile, your eyes meeting his. “Aren’t you busy with, you know, the festivities?”
He scans over you, a light smile on his face as his eyes twinkle with interest. “As a knight, it is my duty to ensure that each individual enjoys their time during the festivities.” He chuckles to himself. “You seem oblivious to the fact that you’ve been standing there for hours now.”
“You noticed, huh?” You're slightly unamused by the teasing. “Well, you know I don’t really, uh...”
“Oh, you’re afraid of getting lost in the crowd?” He asks, reading you with such ease that it’s almost frustrating.
In a way, though, it’s the cause for that smile spreading across your expression. “Well, not exactly. I was just, um, waiting for there to be a bit less people.”
He chuckles. “Right.” You might as well have told him you could fly with how much he had seen through your words.
“I really am.”
“Oh, I believe that you are, but it’s because you lack fondness of such crowds.” He leans closer. “I believe you still haven’t answered my request, by the way.”
“You’re request? Oh! Right.” Your eyes wander away to look at the crowd for a moment. It was about time that you had something to eat anyway, so there was no real fear in going. Plus, it would give you an excuse to get through all these people. “Sure, I’ll join you.”
“Lovely.” He straightens back up, but leans back down for just a moment. You feel his hand take yours, adjusting itself slightly to your palm.
A heat rises to your face. “Kaeya?”
“We don’t want to get separated now, do we?” He chuckles to himself, stealing a quick glance your way before turning and taking the chance to guide you to his side.
No arguing with that logic. You release a deep breath, relieved that your friend had approached you. His presence beside you is a welcome warmth, and due to his status and stature, he has much more ease navigating the crowds than you would have if you were alone.
It takes about twenty minutes of walking before you find fresh air, the crowd not surrounding Angel’s Share. Usually this walk would take half that time, but with your slow pace navigating the crowds, it was far more tedious than expected.
Kaeya still grips your hand when you reach the tavern door. “Uh, Kaeya?” You hold up your clasped hands. “You can stop holding my hand now.”
“Hmm?” His eyes linger over the hands as he opened the door with his other. “Oh, I know.” He looks away as if mindlessly returning back to a task.
Instead, he grips your hand tighter and leads you into the tavern ahead of him.
“Wh- Wait-“ You stutter out, flustered at the notion.
“There’s no hurry.” He spoke simply, very much to avoid you mentioning it again.
“Kaeya-“
“Are you two going to keep blocking the doorway?” A tired voice rings out from behind the counter.
“Oh, Diluc, I didn’t know you would be working today.” You pipe up, trying to avoid the typical tense conversation between the two brothers.
“Festivities are typical cause for me to work. It’s due to be quite busy in here soon.” His eyes rest on Kaeya. “Of course, when people have a proper job to do, they haven’t the opportunity to rest during such occasions.”
“As always, Diluc, taking a chance to slander the Knights of Favonius.” Kaeya’s voice is unusually disinterested in the typical unfriendly banter. “We’re just taking a break before the crowds get any worse. A certain someone was near about to pass out from exhaustion.”
That’s when Diluc’s eyes flicker to your clasped hands. His expression shifts slightly as if he is rather amused by such a development. Still being polite, however, he doesn’t mention it. “If you’re that exhausted, then take a seat. I assume you won’t enjoy drowning in wine like your present company.” He says to you, turning his head to look into the interior of the tavern. “Find a seat somewhere. Away from me.”
Your hand is being squeezed - near suffocation - by Kaeya, who scoffs at his brother, “As always, you-“
“Thanks, Diluc.” You interrupt Kaeya and quickly pull him away from a potentially endless argument.
He’s indignant for a moment, then takes stride in front of you and leads you up the stairs for the utmost privacy.
Kaeya is unusually quiet as he leads you to a table in the corner, away from the few other people who are in the bar. Diluc is right; In a few hours, this entire tavern would be overfilling with guests.
Still, Kaeya leads you to a table and you both sit down, his hand still grasping yours. Was it overkill at this point? Most certainly.
“Hey, Kaeya?” You call again to grab his attention. He meets your gaze with a slight reluctance, as if pulled from a strange thought. It's unusual for him to be so reserved. You squeeze his hand. “Everything alright?”
“Why, of course it is.” He leans forward slightly, pulling your hand as if to have you do the same. “I’m right in front of my favourite person.”
Your cheeks tinge a light pink and he chuckles at the change. Your eyes narrow slightly - He’s doing this on purpose. “Is that why you’re insisting on holding my hand so tightly?”
“Hmm.” He hums quietly. “Well, perhaps I just want your attention.” He stares across at you. “Perhaps I wouldn’t want you to be thinking about anyone else right now, or want you to get lost in either your thoughts or the crowds.” His eyes scan yours, a delay for testing your acceptance of his words. “And perhaps, of course, I don’t want any other man to take your hand away from me.”
Your eyes widen a bit in surprise at his words. Though not unusually bold, they are certainly more, well, direct than usual.
He held your hand under the table, the two of your quiet as footsteps came approached from the stairwell. “Some wine and food for the table.” Diluc announces haphazardly, though delicately he does place the items onto the table. You look up toward him, and feel your hand being squeezed again.
The unusual action comes across more possessive than you had seen Kaeya before. It’s incredibly flustering for your thoughts.
Diluc notices how quickly you look away from him, and his eyes flicker to Kaeya. He notices something, but wanders away from the table regardless at the sound of your quiet 'thanks'. Perhaps he believed himself to be interrupting a moment - which, perhaps he was.
Finally, he lets your hand go, leaning back in his chair. “Now, my dear, let’s enjoy our time together while it’s still quiet enough for you.” He smiles delicately, as if moments ago he hadn’t spoken strangely.
You decide to play along with it, not certain how to deal with the stirring in your heart as you both lift your glasses and let the clink resound in the air when they meet, pushing away any other emotions you might be feeling.
#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin scenarios#genshin impact imagines#imagines#genshin impact requests#requests#imagineimpact#oneshot#my writing#genshin impact scenarios#scenarios#genshin fic#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#kaeya x reader#genshin kaeya#kaeya imagines#kaeya genshin impact#kaeya alberich#kaeya x y/n#kaeya ragnvindr#kaeya scenarios
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INVISOBANG - Ectoplasmic Educational Employment (Quirky Danny Fenton The Teacher? More Likely Than You Think!)
And the stellar artists that made art for this little fic o’ mine!:
lanaecomics: ART CHECK IT OUT
AND
Trash Shipper; ART CHECK IT OUT
---
Danny isn’t exactly a fresh graduate with a lot of options after Highschool. College wasn’t happening and where the Hell was going to hire him? Mr. Lancer and CasperHigh apparently.
As what? As a teacher. A teacher on the subject of ghosts, because of course everything in Danny’s life will be ghost-related. But maybe ghosts, ghost society at large, and even the goddamn Observants will actually think this is, like, a good? thing. He also, apparently, doesn’t suck at it.
He’s still weird, eccentric, partly dead, and goddamn eighteen though
Prologue: Employing The Unemployable
Danny never really expected to graduate, honest to goodness he did not, yet his chronically-tardy-randomly-disappearing-handing-shit-in-late-or-never ass has managed to get that stupid slip of paper that was nearly basic necessity to get any halfway decent job; which was, frankly, a load of horse crap. Half the shit school taught was useless and most of it he wasn’t going to remember in three days none the less a year from now; or however long it took to find a job that actually required said useless knowledge. Though really? that wasn’t something he actually had to worry about, seeing as there was basically a zero percent chance of him having anything close to something even resembling a ‘normal’ job.
He could work for his folks? Financially lucrative and everything regarding the subject of ghosts has been effectively beaten into his brain by this point. Whether it was due to being around it so often or to save his own hide from his folks' inventions. He could also arguably get a shady as shit job, he was definitely skilled at lying, hiding, sneaking around, playing a role, even stealing and fighting. Plus a subordinate who can shoot energy beams and turn invisible would probably be a mob bosses, or whatever’s, wet dream. But, uh, that was probably not the best idea in the world; especially when Amity didn’t even have mobs and drugs and shit really. And why would they? They had freaking ghosts. Also having hallucinogenics would just be fucking overkill at this point. Plus Vlad already filled the quota for ‘dangerous men in dark suits that smoke cigars and drink whiskey while planning peoples demise or manipulating them like chess pieces".
Getting a job at the Nasty Burger would be easy enough but he’d get fired so fast. Ditto for working at the town’s only hotel or the gas stations or the grocery store or literally anywhere else minimum wage. Honestly, how the fuck do any of those fictional movie heroes have non-heroing related jobs? Excluding the super-rich ones with public identities anyways. Unrealistic. Completely unrealistic.
Sighing and flopping down on his bed, at least his friends didn’t have this issue. Manson’s don’t work and Tuck’s dumbass has hacked every single security and tech company in at least their entire state so they were basically all scrambling to hire his hacker ass. Val has the Nasty Burger -not that she’d be staying there once she graduated- and not to mention having Vlad’s very very deep pockets at her disposal. Speaking of Val though... Danny chuckles up at the ceiling, “honestly it’s funny as Hell that Val got held back but I didn’t. I mean really? How the fuck did that happen?”, shaking his head and laughing quietly a little more. The rest of the Defect Quartet got a good laugh out of that. Sam and Tuck were never at risk of not graduating, it was just Val and his ass that was a worry. Eh whatever. At least Dash’s dumbass got held back too; not seeing that jocks blonde mug at graduation was goddamn euphoric. It truly, truly was.
Well for now, all Danny can really do is wait, enjoy not having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go to school, and hope his folks don’t start go getting on his ass to get work that’s ‘normal’ so he has the experience. To be fair, him knowing what it’s like to work at a normal job would normally be a damn good idea, if he wasn’t a literal superhero who also just so happens to be kinda dead. Dead people shouldn’t have to work in his opinion, but life and deaths not fair so whatever. At least his poor abused bed was soft as shit though, that was something.
Danny nearly jumps out of his skin when his mom knocks on the door, jerking him out of his thoughts, “sweetie! It’s Mr. Lancer! He wants to talk to you!”. Oh Ancients fuck, why? Hopefully, graduation comes with a no tack backsies rule or something because that would be just his luck. Danny swings up his legs and gets up off his bed, mildly shouting, “coming!”. Popping open his door while his mom gives him a seriously judgemental ‘you better not have done something stupid’ raised eyebrow as she hands him the phone; him smiling sheepishly as he takes the phone and re-closes his bedroom door.
Eyeballing the phone with just a mild amount of apprehension before putting it to his ear, “yeah? What’s up, Lance?”.
“Hello Daniel, how’s life as a graduate treating you?”.
Danny chuckles, “that depends on whether or not you’re about to tell me I didn't actually graduate and some kind of wild and unlikely mistake popped up”.
Lancer actually laughs lightly at that, “no nothing like that, you graduated fairly, Daniel. Though considering your poor attendance I’m not surprised you’d be suspicious”. Danny grins to himself a little at that but fuck, not his fault man. Not his fault... Technically. “I was actually wondering how job searching is treating you. Working for your parents seems... less than safe even if that seems like the obvious choice for you”.
Danny nods to himself and chuckles, too true there. Smirking a little, “oh if anyone knows how dangerous FentonWorks is, it’s me”. Sometimes he’s honestly amazed no one’s ever called CPS on him or anything. FentonWorks was a death trap waiting to happen, literally; him being walking proof and all that. Shrugging to himself, “and you know I’m not exactly suited for a nine to five, Lance”, and he’s not even going to mention the fact that Vlad would hire him in a heartbeat because that is so not happening no matter how ‘good-ish’ the man was nowadays. Working for him would be a dangerous game no matter how Danny looked at it; for both of them.
“I don’t think I could even imagine you working an office job or as a cashier. But if not nine to five, then how about noon to three?”.
Danny blinks at that, huh? “um what?”, shaking his head a little and blinking again, “short shift there but you know me, how often did I ever stay in class for the full forty minutes, or whatever?”.
“Fifty-five, Daniel, And I’m sure you could stay for an hour given the right encouragement and approach”.
Danny sighs and tilts his head back, “I don’t need money that badly, man, geez”, shaking his head, “what are you even suggesting though?”. Is Lancer seriously offering him a job? Where even? Short as shit hours though, which technically worked well-ish for him. He never has a consistent time slot where no ghosts show up though.
“Well I’m sure your parents have heard about the ecto-ology class the school board decided to pass”, Lancer grumbling seemingly to himself, “long time coming if you ask me, too long”, speaking up a bit, “your class should have had it, not that you needed it”.
Danny snorts, fair point there, “yeah I could probably have taught it better than the damn teacher”, blinking, wait a fucking minute, “Lancer what the fuck. Are you asking me to teach it???”. What the actual shit. Sure, he could do it, technically, but still. The fuck, shaking his head, “don’t you, you know, need schooling to be a teacher? And come on, I am the exact opposite of teacher material, or whatever”. Seriously, the Hell. The Ancients are probably actively mocking him right now. That or Danny’s totally wrong and making a complete ass of himself.
“You’re irresponsible and... eccentric, yes, but you’re intelligent and excitable about your interests; and really, a teacher is someone who’s hyper interested and passionate about their field of education”, Danny can almost hear a smirk in Lancer’s voice, “don’t even try to tell me you’re not passionate about ecto-ology, I’ve overheard more than enough conversations between you and your friends to know otherwise. Though yes, the number of times I’ve heard you mention ghost jail was more than a little concerning. Especially when it sounded like it was personal on-the-inside experience”.
Danny blinks, “Lance, you frighten me. Now I’m seriously wondering even more why the school never called on my folks, or whatever”. This just in, apparently a vice principal was perfectly willing to just ignore a student going to jail in an alternate dimension. Repeatedly.
“As if that would actually help. Your parents are good, if crazy and negligent, people. And I have a feeling you’re perfectly capable of getting into trouble without their involvement. So what do you say? It’s completely within my power to hire you on the spot”.
Danny pulls the phone away from his cheek and makes wild hand gestures at it, again what the fuck. Though yeah, his folks aren’t half bad, excluding the whole ectophobia thing. Scrunching up his face at his phone before returning it to his cheek, “uh thanks? You know, for not getting my folks in shit”, shaking his head and smirking a little, “so you know a lot of the trouble is just me being me and you’re inviting me to once again spend five days a week at one of the local ghost hotspots? Do you like suffering, Lance?”.
That actually gets a laugh out of the vice-principal, “the ghosts certainly keep things interesting but no, hiring you instead of your parents would reduce the chaos. Your parents are far bigger trouble makers than you ever have been”.
“That feels like a challenge”. Danny absolutely smirks to himself over the sigh that comment gets him before continuing, “though yeah, my dad plus the school five days a week sounds like you’d be actively begging the universe to blow up the entire place while simultaneously covering it in green goo and maybe accidentally teleporting it to an alternate dimension. To be fair, dad’s only managed that twice on the house so far”. And his mom still won’t let the man live down either event, understandable. Sighing, his parents being walking collateral damage machines was useful in school since it kept nearly every teacher from calling them in, but now it was mildly biting him in the ass. Though now that he’s thinking about... who else could the school call in? Val was still in school and the school didn’t officially know about her ‘extracurricular activities’ -though Danny would bet an entire model rocket that most of the teachers knew or at least had a very very good guess- so she was out. Then there was the G.I.W. which... just no. Fuck no. Super bad idea. So that just left his ass, and fine, arguably it would be a decent enough job and Lancer wasn’t exactly wrong about Danny knowing his shit and being a bit excitable about ghosts. He couldn’t help it alright? He was raised on it and actually excelled at it. Plus, he was a ghost; knowing was survival. Plus plus, having someone who isn’t ectophobic teach the ghost class would probably be a good idea. Val was better but... she tried to use the Box Ghost’s face as a battering ram because her closet door got stuck last week, ‘nough said. Sighing again, “okay fine, I think you’re inviting disaster but all your other options would also do that”.
Lancer laughs lightly and sips something, probably tea knowing the man, “agreed. So you’ve got the summer to come up with a curriculum, nothing too serious for the first semester so I’m sure you can handle it”. Danny scowls audibly, though fine how much harder could making a teaching thingy be than overthrowing corrupt ghost government/royals? Fuck him entirely. “Don’t worry, I’ll send over some useful tips and tricks, a little guide; because you are right, typically teachers go to school to learn how to teach”.
Danny gives one very sarcastic and deadpanned, “you don’t say”, in response to that. Great, now he’s got homework over summer, just really weird homework that’ll technically include creating homework for other people. Weeee. Fun. Ugh. But hey, maybe this’ll actually not suck. Shaking his head and chuckling a little, “you know, I’m starting to think you might actually like me, Lance”.
Lancer simply laughs faintly at that. “How about we meet up sometime next week and I’ll see how far you’ve gotten and your ideas”.
Danny leans his head back, “ugh fine”, grumbling to himself, “oh Ancients I’m ‘hanging out’ with my old teacher, fuck me”, and hangs up though more than a little sure that Lancer probably heard that last bit.
Danny rubs his eyes in circles after a bit, sighing again, and picks up his cellphone.
thealiveone: guess who got a job offer first? Suck it tuck
PDAxpda : bullshit, where????
thealiveone: lets just say that lance decided I needed to see things from my poor teachers persepectives
PDAxpda: oh god XD poor casperhigh
Nightshade: So youre becoming part of the ststem? Really Danny?
Nightshade: but with fhosts
PDAxpda: ha! You’re becoming your parents!
thealiveone: HEY! AM NOT!
thealiveone: ...kinda
thealiveone: but hey, ghost teachin bout ghoss. Love the irony
Nightshade: 🙄
thealiveone: ancients be happy for a guy why dontcha geez
thealiveone: even if it’s stupid
thealiveone: and I’ll totally wind up having to ditch and be late and shit
PDAxpda: typical you
thealiveone: 😢
Nightshade: fine but at least be a quirky ‘teacher’ and not some lame rule follower ass
thealiveone: me? Not be quirky? Fuckin riiiiiiiight
PDAxpda: *snort*
thealiveone: anywhay
thealiveone: think I should do a bit on ghost hunger just to make lance regret his chocoes?
Nightshade: 🤦🏻♀️
PDAxpda: YES!!!
thealiveone: 😏
Danny had ideas now, and he was about to make them EVERYBODY'S PROBLEM. As he should.
Chapter 2: Cursed From Entry Level
Today was the day, yup it certainly was; Danny side-eyes his ghost-shaped alarm clock. The first Monday of a new school year; which normally shouldn’t mean shit to him since he graduated and all that but fuck his dumbass agreed to turn around and come right back as a goddamn teacher. Why did he do that? That was stupid. Well not really but now that it’s a little past eleven and he has to actually get up, get dressed, and go do the thing that he agreed to do. Fuck. Responsibilities suck. And if anyone’s allowed to say that it’s him, superhero responsibilities kinda outclass all others so suck it. Sighing and flopping an arm over his eyes, had he been smart and bought teacher clothes? No. Or prepared an introduction speech thingy? Also no. Or even bothered to tell literally anyone other than his friends and family that he now worked at CasperHigh? Definitely no, let the fuckers be surprised. He had, however, printed out copies of the syllabus; which fine, was largely because Lancer nagged him about it so much that he did it out of spite. Danny bets being manipulative was totally something taught in teacher school; not that Danny really particularly needed to be taught that… especially when he could just go to Vlad for that kind of ‘tutoring’, not that he actually would. Regardless, he now officially had to get up.
Sighing very loudly into his arm before moving to push himself up and walk over to his closet; did any of his shit qualify as ‘professional’? Haha fuck no. But oh well, screw it. Might as well lean into this ghost teacher thing and the ’Fenton’s are eccentric weirdos’ thing. Time for a ‘I Got A Boo Boo On My Funny Bone Isn’t That Very Humerus?’ sweater and some crust punk pants that are more patches than fabric. He is so not wearing a tie or bow tie though, bandana? Shrugging he nabs up a little alien one that had only a couple small ectoplasm stains, “if anyone asks, lab accident”, and smirks to himself while tying the thing around his neck, shrugging, then heading downstairs for breakfast.
His dad looks up and grins, waving a hand while the other’s still tinkering away on some gun, “morning Danno! Heading off to school?”, tilting his head and chuckling heartily, “or to teach, I should say!”.
Danny rolls his eyes but smiles and chuckles, moving to grab out the cereal, “yup, bet it’s gonna be interesting. My poor fellow teachers”, Danny absolutely smirks at that, because damn they’re gonna hate Lancer for a while once they realise they’re stuck with him for who knows how long. Sure he’ll only be actually there for, like, what an hour or two or so? Eh something like that. He honestly hopes Lancer didn’t tell all the teachers because he absolutely wants to see all of them look at him, do a double-take, and sigh in resigned defeat and pain. Danny can’t help snickering a bit to himself as he eats his food and his dad goes back to tinkering; though with a far bigger grin on his face.
Danny actually manages to get out the door just as his mom’s coming up from the lab, her waving at him erratically, “have a good day at work, sweetie!”, she sounds more than just a little excited to be saying ‘work’ in regards to him. Did make some sense, seeing as he didn’t exactly have any kind of real job opportunities. At least neither of them tried to insist on driving him there, letting him get in a good midday fly instead; one of these days they are seriously going to wonder how the heck he gets places so fast without driving.
-
Landing behind the school in his usual spot Danny takes a few steps back and just kinda stares up at the building for a hot minute, “I don’t know whether this feels nostalgic, daunting, or just surreal”, shaking his head, “well I guess I just better get to it, everyone should be in class right now... right?”, tilting his head as he turns invisible and intangible, stepping through the wall, “how the fuck have I already forgotten the schedule? Ancients”. Thankfully there is, in fact, not a single person and/or spirit in the hallway. He even effectively avoids everyone on his way to the teachers' lounge and successfully uses the key Lancer gave him to get in. Of course, it’s not empty inside though, expected honestly.
Danny pokes his head in and immediately spots Mr. CampBell and grins wickedly, “heeeey”; and the teacher damn near jumps out of his skin before snapping his head around to the door. Mr. CampBell visually recoils, “oh god why are you here?”.
Score! Lancer absolutely did not tell the staff. Danny snickering as he waltzes in, “oh don’t you know? Lancer hired me”. Mr. CampBell turns away and sighs very loudly, Danny absolutely hearing the whispered, “why? I thought William actually liked his coworkers”. Danny only snickers meanly as Lancer walks out from around one of the corners, “we needed an ecto-ology teacher, he’s a perfectly reasonable choice, Joseph”. Huh, so that’s CampBell’s first name. Lancer then turning to Danny and handing him off a coffee cup, gesturing to the corner he just walked out around, “there’s more in the kitchen, since I’m well aware you practically live on the stuff”.
Danny blinks, grins, and moans comically, “oh my Ancients, there’s free coffee in here”.
Lancer quirks an eyebrow faintly at that, “I did tell you”.
Danny shrugs, “eh I thought you were just trying to sweeten the deal for me, Lance”, then taking a sip, “pretty weak shit though”. Lancer quirks his eyebrow further, “it’s free, Daniel”. Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah well, I think I’ll bring in some Deathwish”.
Joseph gives him one very concerned look, “is that an official real coffee or something your crazy parents made?”, he sounds more than a little hesitant for the answer there. Good. Danny smirks, “oh it’s real, and lives up to the name, drinking the cold brew might actually kill you from botulism. The regular coffee is only the world’s strongest stuff though”, then finger-gunning at the man.
Lancer shakes his head as he sits down on the couch, “you concern me some days”, pursing his lips, “most days”, then sips at his coffee. Joseph shakes his head, “I’m just going to head to my classroom”, pointing at Lancer, “you keep that demon child’s classroom consistent, I do not want that ectoplasm stuff getting mixed with Charles’s science nerd stuff”, and throws Danny a scowl before leaving.
Lancer shakes his head before looking to Danny, “your classroom is going to be consistent though, considering I know exactly how often your homework had to be put in biohazard instead of the filing cabinets”. Danny rubs his neck a bit sheepishly at that while Lancer leans forwards, arms on his knees, “do you have everything ready? I could sit in on your first few classes if you’d like”.
Danny snorts, “somehow I think that would just get me mocked, Lance”, smirking, “but that depends on how much you want to leave me unsupervised with a bunch of teens and ectoplasmic substances”.
“You’re... not bringing out ectoplasm on the first day, are you?”.
Danny snickers, “maybe...”. Lancer sighs very loudly but Danny decides to take some amount of pity on the man, “mostly I brought ecto-proofing stuff since I don’t think you want to be replacing stuff a bajillion times. Anyway, can I paint the whiteboard ectophobic green? I mean the ectophobic bit laterally”. Lancer only sighs louder but does nod while putting his face in his hand. Smart man. Danny should probably just go ahead and do that immediately though, the walls and desks and stuff can happen later or fuck he can just make it an assignment because why the fuck not?!? Danny downing the rest of the coffee, clapping his legs, and getting up, “whelp I’mma go do that then”. Lancer speaking up just before he gets to the door, “I will be checking in on you, but feel free to call or ‘text away’ if you need anything”. Danny cringes a little but nods.
Are the hallways empty this time? Nope. Does Danny’s mere presence cause a bunch of whispering as he’s heading to his assigned classroom? Absolutely. Everyone knew who the Fenton’s were, he himself might have techically been a ‘loser weirdo’ but he was also simultaneously popular in the infamous kinda way, especially at school. Most of the comments -that his wonderful ghostly hearing let’s him pick up on easily- are along the lines of ‘guess he didn’t graduate, no surprise there’ or ‘why the fuck’s he here?’, some of the freshmen react with mock horror though so that’s amusing. When Danny gets to his designated room he absolutely spends his before class time painting the board and just throws the rest of his stuff on the provided desk. He is not a tidy person and that is so not gonna change.
He was, however, so not prepared for Val to walk through the door first though. Her and Danny making eye contact, Danny blinking, “‘kay why the fuck would you be here?”. She gives him a dumb look, “hey you yourself, Danny”, then scrunches up her face and sags, “oh my Zone, you are seriously the teacher? You were serious about that? We’re all gonna die”. Danny just smirks while she slumps down in a desk, him scribbling his name on the board quickly; Ancients if anyone calls him ‘Mr. Fenton’ he’ll gag. Speaking of gagging though, putting his class right after lunch was probably not the smartest move on the principal's part. Gives him the perfect excuse to do something weird and just eat ectoplasm or something.
Valerie bangs her head on the desk before looking back up to him, putting her chin in a palm, “though I guess I am kinda curious what the heck you’ll teach with this, you’re always so tightlipped about ghost stuff”.
Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, glancing back to her before turning around to sit down in his provided chair, not nearly enough burn holes yet to actually feel like his though. He’ll have to fix that, “with you. We don’t exactly see eye to eye on things”. She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes, but other fellow teens are coming in so she doesn’t give him any kind of actual response.
Every single teen does at least a slight pause at seeing Danny in the teacher's chair before taking seats. some say nothing, some swear lightly, others groan, and then there’s goddamn Dash??? Why was that jock taking this class? Better yet, why did it have to be Danny’s luck that Dash would even want to.
“Well if it isn’t Fenturd”. At least half the class snickers or coughs to cover laughs.
Danny glares at the jock, “I can give detentions now, don’t be stupid”, smirking, “or I can just designate you as the ‘helping hand’ and you can handle all the ectoplasmic shit I am absolutely going to bring in”. Dash takes his seat real quick after that while Val’s busy snickering at his expense.
Danny leans back in his chair as the bell goes off, “whelp, guess this is happening now”. Valerie puts her head down and laughs a little, a couple other teens laughing a little themselves while Danny continues, “okay, so obviously I’m the teacher, which honestly? more than a few of you should have seen that one coming”, nodding to himself, “now in case you somehow do not know who I am and also somehow missed Dash being an ass and calling me ‘Fenturd’, I’m Danny Fenton the youngest Fenton, and yeah I’m your teacher because literally no one else is remotely qualified or safe enough to do this”.
More than a few people mutter ‘that's fair’ or something similar. His folks being walking talking time bombs wasn’t exactly a secret and the G.I.W. were honestly more dangerous than the ghosts.
Danny chuckles to himself, digs in his backpack and gets up, “and also, in case you didn’t even bother to look at the class you agreed to take or what was written on the class schedule thingy”, Danny cups the little semi-solid ball of ectoplasm and slaps it on the whiteboard, it spattering across neon green and glowing, “welcome to Ecto-ology! And that!-”, pointing at the green splattered board, “-that’s ectoplasm!”, then shaking a jar of SignalShines -little tiny firefly-like blob ghosts- on the little tray attached to the whiteboard typically used for the markers, “and that’s some ghosts! Some very tiny ghosts”.
Valerie snorts and laughs, muttering, “oh no”, into her hand. Since she obviously figured out that Danny wasn’t going to even attempt at being a ‘normal fucking teacher’. Most of the class snickers and starts laughing after a bit, that or eyeballing the ectoplasm splatter/ghost-filled jar. Danny waving the board and everything off limply, “I ecto-proofed the whiteboard already so don’t bother calling the ecto-hazard line”, then making a point to sound ominous and mildly threatening, “they won’t come”. Which absolutely gets him more laughs and a couple shivers, seeing as he could actually legit pull off scary if he felt like it. Perks of being a ghost and ridiculously highly combative and confrontational.
Danny absolutely hands the syllabus paper stack to Dash to hand out, largely as payback for the name-calling. “So since this year this class is only an optional elective, being a trial run and all that, lets do the whole introduce-yourselves-even-though-I-already-know-who-you-all-are thing with why you took this class and, for funsies, who’s your favourite ghost”. Dash does give him a dirty look, which Danny smirks over, but what follows is people saying their names and giving reasons and shit.
Danny decides to smear around the whiteboard ectoplasm to write down ghost names and tally up how many people say that ghost. Is it mostly Phantom? Yes; even Val votes for him but that’s understandable since she actually got along with Phantom, for the most part, these days. Somehow the Box Ghost earns the second most tallies, Ember’s in third not all that surprising, and two people actually threw a vote Johnny’s way. As for why people took the class?
Well Valerie claims she wants to know more about ghosts and leaves it at that, earning some eye-rolls from the class seeing as everyone knew how she felt about the spookies. Dash took it because a Fenton was teaching, which is information Danny doesn’t know what to do with; what the fuck does that mean? And everyone else? To learn about ghosts (sure), for self-defence (good reason actually. Practical), better than the other electives (fair and probably accurate), easy grade (or so they think... maybe), because it absolutely was going to be chaotic (hundred percent yes). Danny’s content and smirking just a little bit.
Danny sits on the corner of his desk -why not?- and waves a hand around limply, “alright, semi-proper introduction of myself. I’m sure pretty much all of you are damn well aware of FentonWorks and it being basically the only ecto-tech company -besides the ever overpriced Dalvco- and that it is responsible for all the shields and ecto-weapons and all that jazz in town. Surprise surprise, I’ve worked on or outright built a lot of that stuff”, sounding incredibly sarcastic, “truly shocking, I know”, earning him a couple snickers/laughs. “Now you might think that since my folks literally invented the stuff and are some of the only published scientists in the field of ecto-ology that they’re more qualified to do this teacher thing, ignoring the fact that they would probably blow the classroom up or accidentally get everyone teleported into the ghost Zone randomly”, pointing at the class, “not an exaggeration”, before continuing properly, “but guess what? They've never actually explored the Zone or sat down and actually talked to a ghost”, putting a hand to his chest, “I, however, have. So yeah, qualified”; and snaps his fingers a bit dramatically.
James mutters, “not sure that actually means qualified”; and he’s not the only one. Expected, seeing as Danny was not actually qualified to be a teacher obviously.
Danny sticks up a finger, “I have no teacher qualifications though, but Lance decided he just does not care”, getting up and walking to the board, moving around the ectoplasm, “and as for my fav ghostie, you’ve never heard of them”, and scrawls out ‘ClockWork’ on the list of favourite ghosts. Turning back to the class, “ClockWork’s existence is mildly forbidden knowledge, so have fun with-”, Haley shrieking interrupts and most of the class going wide-eyed gets him to turn around and see the very well done drawing of ClockWork looking right at Danny with a glare, there is an ‘I’m flattered, Daniel’ written under it though so... Danny can’t help but bend over wheezing a little, “oh I so saw that coming!”, shaking his head and chuckling, “or something similar at least”. Okay he expected to get smacked over the head with an invisible staff out of nowhere, not a passive-aggressive yet still somehow fond drawing. Straightening up and turning back to the class while whipping at his eye, “y’all signed up for this, remember that”.
Danny sits down and starts going over the syllabus, because that’s what he’s supposed to do, but Jesse interrupts him halfway through, “are we just ignoring everything that just happened with the magic drawing?”. Danny looking at him and smirking, “a good rule of thumb in life is when the literal god of time chastises you, you move on immediately. Just good life advice if you want to keep doing the whole living thing”. Expectedly that gets him a lot of staring. Danny rolls his wrist around, “that Vortex ghost is also a god by the by. Same with UnderGrowth. Pandora’s a minor god technically”, tilting his head, “then there’s the whole mess of Pariah who’s pretty much just a way worse version of Hades”, smirking, “Amity’s seen some big names in the ghost world”.
“What the fuck”.
Danny just snickers at that while Valerie puts her head in her hands and shakes it.
Surprisingly the rest of the class is seemingly going normally, Lancer did stick his head in and eyeball the whiteboard which Danny gave him a ‘what did you expect from me? Honestly’ smirk for, and surprisingly no one decided to ask Danny how the actual fuck he knew the time god if they even believed him on that anyway. But maybe five minutes before class is over, Danny’s ghost sense goes off, because of fucking course, but it just feels like Boxy. So Danny, smirking, checks his phone to use as some kind of excuse for how he knows the Box Ghost’s here, gets up and goes to the window, opening it up, sticking his head out, and shouting, “HEY BOXY!”. That, of course, gets the ghost's attention immediately, who does his scary fingers thing, “YOU DARE DRAW THE ATTENTION OF THE MOST FEARSOME GHOST IN EXISTENCE! THE BOX GHOST!”. Danny just rolls his eyes, points towards the whiteboard in the classroom and shouts back, “WE DID A POLL! YOU'RE THE SECOND MOST FAVOURITE GHOST!”. The Box Ghost stares at him for a bit, goes a little wide-eyed, floats towards the ground, and starts crying. Danny pulls his head back in while cackling, looking back to the class, “congrats, we’ve just made the Box Ghost cry”; which absolutely makes everyone start laughing as the bell goes off. Danny smirking more, “I feel very accomplished with myself”.
Surprisingly most of his freaking students actually wave him goodbye, which is weird as heck but also kinda cool, Dash just scowls at him though; get fucked dick-weed. Val stays behind a bit, expected, and sits on the corner of his desk, “so this is really happening, huh?”.
“Yup. Guess so”, leaning back in his chair a little, “you gonna turn this into a debate club or?”, chuckling, “though I doubt you’ll actually learn a whole lot”. She nods at that, “I could probably teach this myself”, grumbling, “if I wasn’t still stuck as a student”, sighing, “I’m not gonna argue in class though, I know you’re ghost friendly, Danny, that’s gonna show obviously”, shrugging and smirking a little, “I just might need a little bit more proof before I take your word on something”.
“Just for that I’m going to bring in Cujo next class”.
“You wouldn’t”.
Danny smirks, “try me. He’ll really liven up the lesson on classifications of ghost types. Truly he is one of the best examples of an animal ghost”. She sounds downright offended, “then bring in a freaking ectopuss! Not the life-ruining dog!”.
“But everyone loves dogs, Val”, Danny smirks, “besides, ectopusses aren’t proper animal ghosts, they’re a type of blob ghost”. She grumbles a bit incoherently before muttering, “dick”, and leaving for her next class; leaving Danny chuckling.
(And Valerie absolutely spent the next day’s class glaring bloody murder at a tiny green puppy, inspiring slight fear and concern in her classmates; Danny just looked progressively more smug which only made his students more concerned).
-
Before Danny actually managed to leave the school, since he didn’t actually have to be there outside of his one class though something tells him that if the ecto-ology trial run works out then he’ll be stuck ‘teaching’ it two or three times a day. Ugh but also so much potential chaos. Anyway, Lancer catches up to him, sounding just slightly out of breath, “your first teaching experience go well, Daniel?”.
Danny smirks, “brought a ghost to tears, only made one mild ecto-hazard, and possibly annoyed a few thousand ghost cops; so good day actually”. Lancer stares at him a little, “should I be concerned”. Reasonable question.
“Maybe”, Danny chuckles, “to be fair, me teaching people about ghosts was absolutely going to piss off the eyeballs, said eyeballs are some ghost cops, it’s complicated”, chuckling a little though sounding/being a bit serious, “technically I really am the best choice for this, I know more than my folks or the G.I.W. do by miles”, smiling softly and a bit pitying a little, “and I know somethings that the living aren’t exactly supposed to”.
Lancer eyes him and shakes his head slightly, “I know, Daniel. I know”. Danny absolutely quirks an eyebrow at that because what the Hell does Lancer mean by that? So he just gives a simple, “oh?”, for a response; weak as shit but it’ll have to do. Lancer nods, “I’m not as oblivious as I let the students think, so yes I know. Though try to keep your, ghost activities let’s say, outside of the classroom? Don’t bring students into your spat with ghost cops”.
Danny actually coughs, again what the fuck. Shaking his head a little bug-eyed, “again, you scare me, Lance”, shaking his head again, “though no, their problem with me is the fact that I exist, so”, and shrugs; Danny is still a little goddamn thrown here. Lancer sighs, “I guess I should have expected that. And I’ll admit to having some questions about that, but-”, putting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “-I don’t truly need an answer there”. Danny, for a lack of knowing what else to do, finger guns; Lancer looks less than impressed.
Chapter 3: Ghosts In The Know
It takes a total of three days for a ghost to actually show up during Danny’s designated class time -the Box Ghost and ClockWork’s sudden appearances don’t count- and while Danny’s fairly certain Lancer at least has some kind of guess about the whole Phantom thing Danny’s not going to just go ghost in goddamn class; that would have been dumb when he was a student and it would only be dumber to do as a freaking teacher. At least as a student he didn’t have a class worth of people somewhat staring at him. But hey at least he had just been facing the whiteboard when his breath decided to be all icy fog, that was something; him watching it frost up the board for a couple of seconds and attempting to verbally steamroll right over the random sudden pause in his speaking. He also absolutely can hear Val’s scanner do its little proximity warning beep.
“-but we’re not talking about Cores today even if that’s unique to proper ghosts, so not getting into that right now”. Turning around and putting down the marker, seeing as he can’t exactly just let Skulker go running around. “Now I’ll be right back”, he almost says ‘bathroom’ but as a teacher he doesn’t need to do that shit anymore, he doesn’t have to justify himself to fucking nobody. But just before he gets to the door he points at Val, who’s mouth is slightly open and is definitely absolutely about to ask if she can go, so he smirks, “and no. You can’t”. She looks so confused and a bit freaked out that he can’t help laughing. He does catch James mutter, “did he just pull his bathroom thing? Seriously?”; which just makes Danny laugh to himself even more as he ducks off around a corner to transform.
He doesn’t have to go very far seeing as Skulker was practically directly outside of the area where his classroom was, looking supremely confused and quirking a robotic eyebrow with his arms crossed at Danny, “really, whelp?”. Danny flips him off and shoots him one in the face pretty well immediately, which starts off their standard combat. Skulker shooting off a rocket with a snide and definitely meant to be insulting comment of, “never would have pegged you for teaching or for telling humans our secrets”.
Danny near shouting back with a snort, “secrets my ass! Shove a floppy disk in it!”. That very predictably gets him a more well-aimed rocket to the face.
-
Meanwhile, in the classroom, Jesse glances around, “should we even be surprised?”.
“No but since he’s, you know, the teacher, I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t be playing hooky or whatever”.
Valerie snorts, “oh as if Lancer didn’t know what he was getting into here. Besides Danny was never going to be a normal anything”. Dash smirks and laughs meanly, “no shit, damn freak”. Valerie absolutely throws an eraser at him for that.
“I’m more curious how he predicted Valerie pulling her own bathroom thing”.
“Obvious answer there, he does it so he knows it”.
“Damn, got a point”.
Valerie grumbles and crosses her arms, “and here I thought he’d be totally cool with that”. Emilie laughing, “yeah you’d think, especially if he was going to keep doing it”. Todd pushes himself to stand up with a smirk, “Well I vote we go through his desk, this is Danny after all”; more than a few people look curious, some look cautious though.
Valerie blinking, before smirking and laughing to herself, “yes, go right ahead, do that, see what happens”. That earns even more cautious looks. Valerie knew Danny, had been in his house and room, she knew exactly what kind of state those two places were in. His desk drawers were absolutely boobytrapped. Todd, however, doesn’t give a shit, and just shrugs while moving up to said desk.
Valerie isn’t even slightly surprised when a bunch of snakes-in-a-can pop out of the very first drawer Todd opens, they’re all green because of course they are. Todd mutters a slightly startled, “fuck”, and kicks one of the snakes.
“HA! Suck it, Todd”.
James shakes his head, eyeing the green fake snakes, “I have a feeling that everything in this class is going to be ghost-themed”. Valerie rolls her eyes, “obviously, have you somehow missed the ghost-themed clothing? Or the fact that Danny is, and has always been, a damn pun machine?”. Over half the class groans or chuckles. Valerie rolling her hand and leaning back, “pretty sure he was wearing a pair of Sam’s platforms today, the ones with little plastic green ghosts shaking around inside”. Dash mutters almost absently, “huh, so that’s why he seems taller today”.
“Dash... why are you noticing his freaking height”.
“Shut up, Jesse. I can’t physically shove him in lockers anymore but I sure as shit can imagine it”.
Valerie sighs very loudly at that, but at least Dash wasn’t quite stupid enough to try bullying a teacher. Even if that teacher was Danny and the same age as him. Which, talk about wild. She honestly did not believe Danny for a second when he said he would be teaching at CasperHigh and yet here he was. Teaching. It was definitely weird, but at least nothing had blown up yet. Hopefully Phantom went and dealt with Skulker though, she’d think Danny would be one who let people leave whenever, guess not. Her scowling a little over that. Todd opening up another drawer and a black and white ghost popping their head out jerks her right out of her head though. Todd falling on his ass and scrambling back, “holy shit! What the fuck!”.
James blinks and wheezes, standing up like basically everyone else, “Danny had a whole ass ghost in his desk, what?!?”. Said ghost floats up, looks around, and waves; while the entire class just stands there, many with ecto-pistols drawn at this point.
“I’m picking up a lot of hostility here, busters”.
Todd grumbles, “you have got to be shitting me”. The ghost tilts their head, “I don’t think Phantom would like that very much. Totally not tubular”. Valerie facepalms and lowers her small blaster, “you’re that old ghost that haunts one of Danny’s old lockers, aren’t you”. The ghost gives her a thumbs up, “that’s the dealio!”.
“... and why were you just in his desk drawer?”.
The ghost crosses their skinny arms and huffs, “when I picked up on the Ha-Danny being here again I had to make sure that buster wasn’t up to his bully ways again”. Dash actually burst out laughing and drops back into his seat at that, “Fenton?!? A bully?!? Man what are you smoking?!?”; which the ghost gives him a very strange look for.
“Poindexter, by the Ancients, how many times do I have to tell you that I wasn’t being a bully, I was getting back at one. Geez”. The entire class goes still and snaps their heads around to Danny, who’s just casually walking in. Dash muttering, “I knew that twerp was the one screwing with me”.
Poindexter rolls his eyes, “like I believe that, buster. Someone would have to be a real dummy to do that to you”. Danny very obviously glares at the ghost, “I said that Dash is a bully, not that he’s smart”. Dash scowls very audibly, “I’ll make you eat those words, Fentit”. Danny instantly holds up a pink detention slip and smirks, while Dash very obviously holds back shouting expletives at him. The ghost just looks confused. Danny turning to the ghost, having to look up a little as he takes his seat, “like I said, not smart”. Dash just scowls while Danny continues speaking but while looking at the class instead of the ghost, “so where were we?”.
Amber blinks, “are we just ignoring the ghost that popped out of your desk?”; while everyone starts sitting back down slowly.
Danny quirking an eyebrow at the ghost, “why, man?”. While Amber tosses up her hands and sits back down too.
“I was looking for anything suspicious. Never know with you”.
Emilie chuckles to herself, “I like how ghosts apparently find him as suspicious as people do”. Earning her a few nods.
Dash rolls his eyes, “oh like what, ghost-themed pencils? A change of underwear in case his own class scares him?”. Danny starting to hold up another pink slip shuts the jock up real quick. Poindexter looks genuinely surprised and turns to Danny, “hold the phone, you sayin’ that rumour that everyone thinks you’re afraid of ghosts is actually the real deal???”. Danny just sighs, “it was a very good and effective way out of my folks trying to make a hunter of me”. While practically half the class shouts, “THAT WAS FAKE!”, including one stunned Dash who had thought he was being so smart and cruel by taking full advantage of Danny’s ‘fear’.
Danny chuckles and looks around, “yup. Sorry not sorry”. Lancer picks that very moment to stick his head in, looking at the ghost then Danny, “Daniel...”.
Danny sighs and waves him off, “I know, it’s just Poindexter though. He’s here somewhere in the school almost every day and has been for, like, decades. Longer than I’ve been alive at least. He’s just seldom visible. Here’s his haunt”. Lancer sighs, “very well”, and just leaves; clearly not wanting to deal with all of that.
James blinks, “so, uh, is he going to stay or? And how the heck did you, but not the school, know about him?”. Poindexter huffs, crosses his arms, and seemingly vanishes; Danny, however, watches the transparent teen ghost just sort of float to the back of the class while making ‘I’ve got my eyes on you’ finger motions at Danny. Danny rolling his eyes while responding, “maybe, maybe not. And you know that locker that’s rumoured to be haunted that I was randomly assigned to for a while? Yeah that’s totally true. We’ll talk about lair cores later. There was also a mild body-swapping incident”.
“Excuse me?”.
Danny points at James, “I have been through some shit, man. Body swapping with a ghost was less weird and more annoying though”. The entire class just stares at him which he takes as a chance to get back to the lesson plan. “So as I was saying...”.
-
Valerie winds up approaching him after the bell, “you know one of these days I’m going to figure out what the Zone that nickname that ghosts have for you is”. Danny quirks an eyebrow, because of course Poindexter probably nearly called him ‘the halfa’ since that’s what Poindexter literally always called him. Smirking at her, “I don’t doubt that, Val. Just like someday you’ll be fully honest about your, ahem, extracurricular activities”, and chuckles while she rolls her eyes. Her muttering, “oh whatever. Anyway, wanna go to a movie after school or are you too busy with teacher duties”.
Danny huffs, “as if. I only do one class you know, so sure why not”. Lancer picks that moment to stick his head in again, “actually you need to finalise that first assignment, also you do realise that as a teacher you are supposed to watch your language?”.
Danny gives an awkward, “uuuuhhhhh”, before scrunching up his face in a pout, leaning back in his chair dramatically, and whining loudly while Val laughs at him, “do I haaaaavvvvveeee toooooo?”. Lancer’s sigh is a pained one.
(Danny absolutely starts out the next class with, “so one of you s̴͜͝h̴i̶t̡̨͡s snitched on me so prepare for some slight language changes, b͘͘itc͜͝he͢͝ş̛”. Which earned a mixture of confused looks, laughs, and a couple glares at Todd, Dash, and Brittney; who were the most likely suspects. And really no one was actually surprised in the slightest that Danny seemingly knew GhostSpeak, it just tracked honestly).
---
Was Danny looking forward to this first assignment thingy? Haha fuck no. He’s just going to assume marking is Hell but he already established that he wasn’t the kind of sick freak that makes the very first assignment the one required oral presentation or some shitty quiz; and fine he already put down ‘research assignment on an unusual ghost theory you have’ in the syllabus but what the actual crap was he supposed to do for the guild lines of this to avoid getting the kind of ridiculous shit that he himself would write. Because as funny as getting twenty-odd papers about Plasmius’s clear attempts at making up for his fragile masculinity or about Phantom’s fashion choices would be, Danny’d rather not. Well he could just be like: y’all can either do all your papers on Phantom or none, vote now. At least then he would either be prepared to read a bunch of wild shit about himself or go in knowing he won’t have to read any about himself.
Rolling over in bed and sighing, “well I guess I could just limited the second option to known frequently seen ghosts?”, blinking, “oh and none can be on Boxy because I see too much of that problem man as it is”. Speaking of problems, he also has to figure out how he’s going to spend an hour getting stared at by most of his students (fuck that was still super weird) sans an entire hand; because sure the rest of his arm will have reformed by noon, but the hand will still an issue. Too bad he didn’t manage to find the chopped-off limb before it dissipated into free-floating ectoplasm. While he does appreciate that no one’s going to just stumble across his severed limb, getting it back would have been way better. Eh fuck it, super long sleeves day it is, Jazz did attempt at dark humour once and gifted him a straightjacket so what the heck time to look like a crazy person the legit way.
Of course it’s currently three am so he is not getting dressed right now, not a chance.
-
Does he get to fall back asleep and actually stay asleep till eleven or so? No, when does he ever? Fuck ghosts and their lack of caring about his shitty sleep schedule. It’s now five am, his ghost sense has got him mostly shivering awake, and his blankets don’t even qualify as actually still on his bed. Him letting himself slump onto the floor while transforming and starting to float up in the air before only slightly lazily flying out his window. If anyone asks about his eye-bags, he bought them off the black market. Does that make sense? Not really no. Does he care? Also no.
Him floating up on Ember smashing up a street sign with her guitar, pinching his nose while otherwise hanging limply in the air, “Ember, why?”. He’s too tired for this shit, Ancients.
“Anarchy”. She hits the sign again.
Danny sighs, “well could you go be ‘anarchy’ when said anarchy doesn’t result in my sleep becoming anarchy too? I really don’t feel like having the R.E.M. sleep government centres of my brain overthrown today”. That actually gets her to pause and look up at him, smirking and snickering after a bit, “you do look like shit”, then very pointedly looking to his half reformed arm; hey at least he had a proper elbow again! Shove a dick in it, goddamn. He absolutely flips her off before shooting her guitar, “go home, Ember. I have class”.
She gives him a pitying look like an absolute ass, “oh did they not let you graduate from that indoctrinating soul-crushing suffering?”, then grinning almost manically, “let’s burn it down!”.
“Jesus Ancients no, I work there”.
“Oh so you’ve become a cog in the machine for the man”.
Danny sighs very loudly, “okay what capitalist crawled up your ass and died, fuck. And if anything my mere presence is causing chaos”, chuckling hollowly, “one of the other teachers drank my coffee accidentally and was absolutely losing their beans half the day. And only one person’s gotten a mild case of ecto-poisoning”, sighing, “Ancients, Todd’s a dumbass. I mean-”, gesturing vaguely with his intact hand, “-I knew that, but next time he wants to ‘prove he can bend steel’ with a bar of ectoplasm I’m just going to let him break his arm and get full-blown contamination”.
Ember shakes her head, “I say let him. And so you are teaching humans ghost stuff”. Danny just shrugs kinda noncommittally at that. She smirks, “teaching death is more punk rock I guess, babypop”, while attempting to give him a boot kick to the face since she apparently couldn’t leave without causing him some level of bodily harm. He, of course, grabs her ankle and just flips her over him. Hand-to-hand combat was not her strong suit. She does successfully get him one with a laser drumstick though. Which hooray for a burnt hip. Fun. At least he knows she’ll just head back to her lair now, no real need for the capture and release thing; most ghosts pretty firmly decided they’d rather just go home after a Phantom ass beat down than getting sucked into the thermos, so they left immediately. Others were fine to just leave to their business. Some were true bad time problems. And then there was the Box Ghost... fucking moron. Ancients he is going the fuck back to bed.
-
Annnnnndddd now he’s late. Fuck. It’s a little past noon. FUCK. He sighs very loudly while practically scrambling out of bed, getting tangled in the sheets, phasing through the sheets when he remembers he can do shit like that, grabbing random ass shit from his closet and phasing that on. Quick mirror check... and yup, he looks like a dumbass and his sweaters backwards. At least he actually grabbed a sweater, he, however, did not grab pants. But fuck it, shorts it is. Shorts that are shorter on one side than the other because they got burnt and said burn marks are super noticeable on the neon green fabric.
He’s hopping out his window when he tries to grab the frame and just face-plants instead because, fuck, right, no goddamn hand dumbass. Quickly scrambling back and phasing off his sweater while also tripping backwards over the first aid kit he left haphazardly on the floor like a complete lazy idiot. Landing on his floor with an oof and sighing very loudly, just laying there half-naked for a couple of seconds, “why me?”. When he does get up he successfully grabs that straightjacket and makes it out the window, flying off to school while pulling it on.
Danny doesn’t even bother with walking into school, just smacks into the side of the building below the window to his classroom -honestly him having his own classroom still feels slightly surreal but he’s kinda used to it at this point. At least a little anyways- and a quick glance around plus transforming back human and visible and he knows he’s good, his singular hand holding onto the windowsill. Is he cheating by still defying gravity a little? Yes. But one Danny Fenton absolutely does not feel like falling to the ground and making an ass of himself yet again today. Huffing he lifts himself up, head-butts open the window -which can only open both ways because it’s an added safety feature in case a student got phased outside and was trying to get back inside through a closed window. His folks really did think of everything. Well almost everything- and scrambles in while his class freaks out a little. A couple fellow teens even scream/shriek and Ashley -who sits near the windows- actually fell out of her desk. Danny doesn’t even need to look up to hear Val’s extremely audible sigh though.
“What the fuck, Fenton?”.
“Danny!?!”.
“What the Hell?!?”.
“FUCK! Oh Zone thank everything, I thought he was a ghost for a second”.
“You’re late”.
“We’re on the second story, how the Hell did you get up here? And wait, did you head butt a window?? WHY ARE YOU WEARING A STRAIGHTJACKET??
“What????”.
“It’s a look though...”.
“Okay Danny being late isn’t all that weird, but you’d think... Like this is exactly why this class is after noon”.
“Is there a reason your top half and bottom half look like they came from two totally different fashion lines?”.
“Why couldn’t you have been five minutes later? We could have left then”.
“Are you okay?”.
“Danny.... what did you do?”.
“Wait, were you the thump on the wall just now?”.
Danny shuffles to stand up straight and brushes himself off with the long floppy arm-sleeves of the straightjacket, waltzing to the front of the classroom. Fuck he forgot his backpack. Damn. Guess he’ll just have to talk about the assignment instead of handing out the sheet things. Oh well. Turning to the class and gesturing them to shut up by waving his hand around which really just makes the sleeve flap around ridiculously.
Pretty much the entire class bursts out laughing at him after a couple seconds of silence.
Danny sighing, “okay okay, yes I’m late, but class or whatever begins now. Also y’all need to vote on whether your research c̷͝r͟a͘p҉͜ will all be on Phantom or none will be on Phantom. It’s all or nothing, you mǫ͡t̨͘h̴̛e͠r̷͞f̸u̴c̕k̨e͠r͢s̴”. That earns both groans and slight laughs, eh Danny’s cool with that.
Val doesn’t even give him a chance to ask for hand voting when she blinks down at his feet, “Danny... how did you even manage that???”. Danny quirking an eyebrow, “huh?”, then looking down... looking down at his laced-up socks. Fucking damnit. He thought he had phased on shoes, even laced them up; guess he just phased random shoelaces tying around threw his goddamn socks and laced up the socks. Danny sighs and slumps a little, “well okay then, guess today’s a no shoes kinda day”, and sighs again before looking up and shrugging at Val, who huffs disbelievingly at him. Fair.
Todd jerks up his hand, “can we go shoeless too then? Otherwise, unfair”. Danny sighs and waves him off, “go nuts, f̵̧͢uc̴̨ķ̴̕ if I care today”. That earns him a round of blinking and snickering; some people do actually take him up on his apathy and take off their shoes. Dash snapping, “not that I care, but what the Hell happened to you?”. Danny smirks at him, “I decide your grade so you kinda have to care”, and sticks his tongue out him like a petulant brat purely because he can. “I got hit in the head by an ectoplasmicly infused guitar at five am and didn’t regain consciousness till-”, glancing at the clock, “-however many minutes ago”.
Jesse blinks, “I can’t tell if that’s a creative lie... or not”. Danny finger guns before turning to the board and scribbling on it, “alright, voting hand time. Left for no Phantom, right for all Phantom...”.
Annnnnnnd, glancing around at the hands, looks like he’s receiving twenty-odd papers on himself. Wonderful. Whelp hopefully this’ll at least be interesting and mildly creative. Danny nodding with his hand and stump wrist on his hips at the board then turning around to face everyone with a huff, “alright then, now if anyone sends their research to the G.I.W. you automatically fail. I don’t want them getting any more funny ideas and having Phantom around is at least marginally a good thing. Honestly”. Earning him some snickers.
“Just marginally? He’s better than your parents”.
Danny glares at Todd, “hush, y͜ou͟҉ ̵s͞a̸l̴ţ͠y͘̕ ̢w̡͞et̷͡ ̡͠n͟͟ơ̢͝o͏d̡҉le”. Putting his intact hand back on his hips, “my folks aside, assignments. It’s on the syllabus and really you already know what to do so yeah. I’ll give you guys the papers for it tomorrow because, like my shoes apparently, I forgot them”. More than one teen gives him a really weird look and James mutters, “honestly? I think I prefer this, uh, ‘teaching’ style? He’s just so done”.
“More like one of us”.
“He is literally my age, he is one of us”.
“Oh yeah”.
Danny glances up at the ceiling, sighs, and talks slightly louder than necessary, “as for actual lesson plans, more ghost history slash lore, yay-”.
“At least he didn’t forget where he left off”.
Danny points at Todd, because come on man, seriously, “I will steal all your number two pencils, Todd”. James blinking, “why does that work as a legit threat?”. Danny points at him, “because then the scantrons will f̵̨̢u̵c̨͜͡k̶̵ up so he can’t take tests and he’ll have to ask the teacher for one embarrassing himself because no fellow teen would give him theirs because h͘e ̸s̨͢u̸̧̡c̷̡ks̕͠”.
“The fact that that is even slightly thought out and remotely realistic is actually worse”.
Dash actually looks legit slightly concerned and weirded out. Maybe he finally realised Danny’s kinda a whole ass nightmare when he feels like it. That’s without adding in the whole half-ghost clusterfuck he’s got going on.
-
Danny gets about halfway through his class when Charles just straight up opens the door. Danny should booby trap that sometime. “Okay I can’t believe I’m asking you this but tell me you have a spare stapler... what am I looking at here?”.
Danny had been gesturing a bit exaggeratedly at the whiteboard that had a doodle of a couple of Ancients on it, him dropping his arms and turning to the science teacher, “what, in any world, would make you think I have a spare of anything other than coffee, guns, thermoses, and maybe food; though the last one may or may not be inedible. Also, today was a crazy person day so yes this is, in fact, a straightjacket”. The fellow teacher smirks, “get that from the asylum you stayed at?”. Danny rolls his eyes, “oh har har, dickweed”, and chuckles; Charles was one of the teachers he got on better with even if the guy had zero sense of boundaries and sticks his nose in just about anything he found interesting, and Danny was basically a walking ball of interesting. Danny snaps his fingers and turns to the class, “oh I have actually been to an asylum before though”.
Ashley coughs, “Danny, you could make a living off of surprising people with random life bits. Get a tv show”.
Danny’s ghost sense goes off at the exact moment that an echoing voice says, “oh I quite agree”, from the direction of the window.
Charles goes wide-eyed and blurts out, “wellsinceyouclearlydon’thaveastaplerI’mgoingtogofindonebye”, and promptly shuts the door with a slam. Danny, meanwhile, snaps his head to the window and watches the Ghost Writer cross his legs while floating a bit above the windowsill. Danny blinks, “what and why”, and sounding stern enough to make a couple students jump/jerk in their seats. Valerie, Emilie, and a few others have weapons drawn already; expected and good really. The Ghost Writer rolls his eyes faintly and tosses his scarf over one shoulder dramatically while Danny slowly scoots over to his desk, not that the Ghost Writer seems to care, pursing his lips at Danny, “curious. Here I thought you had a hatred for literature and education”.
Danny rolls his eyes harshly, “no. Just Christmas”, pooping open one of the drawers. The class just watching tensely in the background.
“Christmas books”.
Danny rolls his eyes again, “Ancients fuck, man”, smirking a little, “here have some-”, jerking up an orange -that he, yes, had in his desk purely to spite this very specific ghost even though the Ghost Writer basically never came to the Mortal Realm- and stabbing it with his nails to make its juices leak down his hand/arm and makes the room smell noticeably citrusy, “-vitamin C for cannonball so you can shoot on outta here”. Valerie side-eyes Danny with a slightly dumbfounded look before dropping her arms, and her gun, down and turning to him, “seriously?”. Danny just shrugs loosely and bites a chunk out of the orange earning a lot of disgusted looks. Fair, he hadn’t exactly peeled off the skin or anything. But hey, the Ghost Writer looks thoroughly and deeply offended; so that’s a point for Danny.
The Ghost Writer audibly sighs, pushes up his glasses, and closes his eyes for a second before speaking up, “as I’m sure you know, The GhostWriters Manor has a fairly high and active patronage”, glaring a little, “regardless of men of a certain sort being unwelcome“.
Brittney leans over to Ashley, who’s shaking and a little stiff, “oooo I wonder what the heck Danny did. Boy’s banned from a library”. Dash scoffs weakly and a little wide-eyed, “o-oh please, getting banned from a library is, ah, is weak sauce”. Todd smirking at the jock, “smooooth”; and gets flipped off for the comment.
Danny shrugs and bites the orange with emphasis, speaking through a mouthful, “‘ell maye searaint ‘en ould ave ettr tases”, and swallows harshly. The Ghost Writer scowls. Danny quirking an eyebrow after a bit, “soooo?”. Making the ghost shake his head and mutter, “I truly can’t believe this”, then looking to Danny, “as a man of the written word there is a level of... respect, even begrudging respect, for those that teach it”, digging into his satchel and pulling out a card, “you may have a card again”; the Ghost Writer sounds almost physically pained to be saying that. Which of course means Danny absolutely has to bug the guy and the windows being phase-proof gives Danny ample time to do so.
Danny smirks, “and here I thought I was never even granted one in the first place”, and dramatically puts a hand to his chest, sounding overly sarcastic, “iMaGiNe HoW bLeSsEd I mUsT fEeL tO bE rEcEiViNg SuCh A tRuLy SpLeNdId GiFt SuCh As ThIs”, sauntering over in the most fruity and dramatic way he possibly can, popping open the window seductively, and snatching away the card, “ThAnKs BaBe”, and winks like an absolute ass.
Emilie collapses to the floor and starts wheeze laughing.
The Ghost Writer jerks away from him, scowls, and adjusts his glasses while trying to compose himself. Huffing a little, “consider the libraries resources yours, do be at least slightly decent and use them educationally”, the vanishing from sight; Danny following the flying off transparent ghost with his eyes before pulling his front half back into his classroom fully. Huh. Will he actually take up the ghosts offer? Might actually be a good idea also, fuck the gov he now has even more access to information they could only ever salivate over in dreamland.
Turning back to the class, “whelp, that happened”, humming and tilting his head, “too bad I definitely can’t get approval for an impromptu field trip to a ghost library”.
Valerie throws up her hands, slumps back into her desk, shoves her gun back into her bag, and glares at Danny. Todd bursts out laughing while Jesse blinks, “did that just happen?”. Dash screws up his face a little, “the Hell you little wimp?”. Danny’s just going to assume the guy never realised that Danny kinda had a pair of brass balls.
Danny smirks at the class, smacking the whiteboard, “I’m tougher than you, deal with it or eat a pink slip. Now class is basically over so I’m not even going to bother continuing with this, but in case any of y’all are wondering The Ghost Writer gains power from the influence, importance, and popularity of any form of writing that was written by a ghostwriter or anonymously. Totally in charge of basically the biggest library in the Zone, which yes I was banned from apparently due to blowing up a book”. Todd scoffs at that and rolls his eyes, clearly trying to seem unimpressed.
Ashley sticks up a hand and speaks anyway, “did you really not know you were banned?”. Danny waves her off with his handless arm, okay he’s got a palm again but stilll, “do you know just how many places have banned me or my entire family”, tilting his head, “or just my dad at least”, which earns him some chucking before the bell goes off and he starts shooing everyone out loosely. Emilie goes right up to his desk though, grinning almost meanly, “tell me you are going to bring ghost books”. Valerie goes wide-eyed a little and glares at the back of Emilie’s head, then at Danny when he smirks and shrugs, “oh I don’t see why not, heck let’s make that the reading requirement. Read a book written by ghosts”. Val makes a series of faces, likely torn between curiosity and being completely done with his general shit. Emile smirks and fist bumps before leaving.
Danny quirking an eyebrow at Valerie getting her to finally speak up, “you are unbelievable, Danny”, shaking her head and walking closer, “so about this assignment thing-”.
Danny groans dramatically, “oh Ancients, way to make me feel like a teacher”. She smacks him over the head for that, “better?”. Danny just smirks and nods curtly, giving a cheery, “yup”. Valerie rolls her eyes, “anyway, I know it’s been decided everyone’s doing Phantom-”, rolling her eyes a little, “-but could I maybe do mine on the other Phantom”, and stares at him.
Oh she is so totally trying to gauge if he knows shit, not that that was remotely subtle. Eyeing her a little, “if you don’t save that kind of subject to your computer then sure, I guess I didn’t specify Danny with a y Phantom. But-”, squinting just a little, “-if, say, the G.I.W. manage to hack things and find out some things that might be dangerous”. Valerie blinks before shaking her head in disbelief, “how the Zone”, sighing, “I’m pretty good with tech these days, but yeah okay”, and gives him a bit of a weird look before rushing off at the warning bell.
---
Does Danny decide to take up the Ghost Writers offer? Yes, yes he does. Barging in and walking around like he owns the place, the Ghost Writer blatantly massaging his temples while Danny walks up to the guys little counter thingy, “so got any twelve odd copies of the same fiction book? That a bunch of teens who may or may not wreck them can have? Also could totally use some lore and historical books, you know, for reasons”.
The Ghost Writer sighs, pours himself some tea, gets up and nods, “yes, do attempt to see them returned though”.
“I make no promises”.
That gets him another sigh but Danny follows the ghost around anyway. The Ghost Writer winds up getting a bit excited and gives him an honestly excessive amount of books at the end of the day. Danny also learns that apparently it was Ember who was a blabbermouth and told the writing ghost when she was checking out, or something, a musician's after-death memoir. Figures a singer couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
-
The Ghost Writer patting the stack almost affectionately, “a happy book is a read book and I have a lot here, so enjoy”, and gives Danny a ‘come back’ look that’s just slightly threatening which Danny’s just going to assume is because the guy had vaguely forgotten who he’s talking to, that or the Ghost Writer hated him a lot less than he thought. The ghost holding up a finger, “ah yes, since you were proactive and showed at least some genuine care for the craft, here”, and plops a little green writing quill down on the stack. Danny is oddly genuinely touched.
Danny blushing and rubbing his neck a bit, “uh, appreciated?”. This honestly said more than it seemed, sure they clearly were bickering and were not exactly fond of each other but it seemed that the Ghost Writer was yet another once-antagonistic ghost that was now at least somewhat on team Phantom’s side.
“Yes, now if you’re done loitering”, the Ghost Writer makes shooing motions at Danny, “be on your way”. Danny rolls his eyes but does, in fact, leave... with an unnecessary amount of books in tow.
Chapter 4: An Education In Fashion
So apparently someone went and threw a little complaint about Danny’s straightjacket stunt, him wearing a near-floor-length parka the next day with shorts probably didn’t help though, and now Danny’s at the mall for reasons other than having fun or fighting some ghost. How does Danny know someone complained? Well a little conversation with Lancer that went a little something like this: “Daniel, I know the school’s a little... lax, but we do actually have a dress code. Which again, you are supposed to actually be marginally following unless it’s for safety reasons”. Which he had of course responded to with, “technically a straightjacket is a restraining device sooooo...”, which got him glared at. In short, Danny now had to buy new clothing. New clothing meant for teaching, which was weird as fuck.
Was he doing this alone? Zone no! He had absolutely recruited Sam and Tuck to wander around with him. Which, speaking of...
“Sup, dude!”.
Danny grins to himself before turning to his friends, “hey, Tuck man”, looking to Sam and nodding, “look at you slumming it like a mall goth”. Sam rolls her eyes at him and flips him off aggressively. Tuck smacks his arm, “more like look at you actually buying clothing new instead of digging through used stores for cheap shit. What? Did Casperhigh finally develop standards?”, and smirks.
Sam scowls at the techno-geek, “it’s better that he doesn’t support corporate-run stores and name brand garbage. What with all the slave labour, animal abuse, and terrible worker treatment”. Danny looks down very pointedly at her plaid T.U.K creepers that are 100% not bought from a used store; Sam shoves him, making him stagger a little with a laugh.
Him looking to Tucker, “Lance asked kinda nice-ishly so I’m being nice to the poor man”, smirking, “and maybe this’ll make up for me sorta kinda being responsible for one of the water fountains spewing out black water for a bit there”. Both of them stare at him for a bit before laughing, Tucker patting his back after a bit with a smile, “they hired you, what did they expect”.
Danny sticks his arms out exaggeratedly while the trio start walking, “I keep telling them that!”. Sam shaking her head with a smile, “well trying to appease the man or not, don’t you dare say we’re suit shopping”. Danny screwing his face up at her before gesturing around, “do you see Vladdie around? Because I fucking guarantee you he’d have some kind of sensor or informant for if I so much as stepped into a suit store or tailor, and he’d immediately show up to at least stare at my choices judgingly or offer to pay by flashing around a fancy credit card”. Tucker snorting, “that shouldn’t feel as accurate as it does”; making everyone laugh as they head into one of the ‘teen’ oriented stores. Danny was buying new passable clothing, not high-class ‘adult’ clothing.
The first thing Danny sees is bandanas, MORE FUCKING BANDANAS! Yes, he’s so here for this. Well not this specifically but you know. He grabs a new alien one, one that looks like a white dragons mouth (Tuck muttered something about seeing one just like that at a furry con which really just encouraged Danny to take it but with a shit-eating grin), two ghost ones because of course and if one of them is pink and glittery and has sequins then that’s his business and no one else’s shut up, another that looks like bloody tie-dye, and one that reads ‘SATAN just do it’ with a Nike checkmark; the last one might just get him in trouble but he’s pretty sure just the existence of his class/him already pisses off Christianity so why not go for a home run.
Sam eyes the SATAN bandana as she walks back over from another store, her smirking, “nice. Anyway, shoes”, and shoves a bag at him. Danny quirking an eyebrow while digging inside and chuckling at the white doc martins, snorting, “I thought I was the only one here supposed to be making jokes about my suit while also blatantly hinting at my shit”.
Sam scowls and crosses her arms, “they’re not sneakers and they’re mildly ‘professional’, deal with it”. Danny just chuckles as he pays for his bandanas and the dress-shirt with frowning depressed bananas all over it that Tuck threw at him.
Walking out and looking around before all three share a Look, breaking out in matching grins and speaking in unison, “HotTopic”, and then march off with determination written across their faces; which yes, gets them actively avoided by everyone who knew who they were, which was basically all of Amity these days.
Danny’s got crushed velvet straight cut pants that marginally resemble dress pants -Lancer will so not let him get away with freezer burnt crust pants or grey sweat pants at an assembly or whatever- folded over an arm while he’s shoving around some of the angsty and anime-themed hoodies when Kitty finally decides to approach him. Did he know she was here? Yes, obviously. Be weird and concerning if he didn’t. But she was generally well behaved so he let her be. The biggest risk her and Johnny usually posed was traffic violations. So not his problem.
Anyway, Kitty pokes the pants, quirks an eyebrow and hums a little, “nice choice there, Danny”, humming a little more before grabbing up a hoodie with a plague doctor on it and the words ‘there is no cure only infection, and I’m patient zero’, and shoving it at him, “that’s more your style”.
Danny blinks, “I see you’re trying to cut me with edge now, geez. But technically-”, holding up a finger from his unoccupied hand, “-anything that sheds ectoplasm is ‘contagious’ sooooooo”, and rolls his wrist. She gives him a pouty look, “I don’t know what I expected”.
Sam walks up, eyes the punk ghost before looking to Danny, “you’re getting a dress tailcoat, it says ‘dead boy’ on it”; making Danny wheeze a little and nod with a stupid grin. Kitty smiles a little bit before waving the goth off and starts walking away, “looks like you’ve already got a lady friend clinging around so I’ll be going”. Sam chucks a necklace at her while Danny coughs.
Regardless he gets the sweater because now he kinda has to. The tailcoat too though, because of course.
-
Sam and Tuck already have their supersized order of fries and respective meat and veggie burgers while Danny’s ordering his go-to coffee from his go-to coffee shop, gotta get in that dose of judgemental and mildly fearful staring. But Charles -yes Charles, not Lancer. Why the fuck?- winds up calling and Danny picks up feeling just mildly confused and curious, “uh, why? Also, how?”.
“So Danny, you’re an adult, a perfectly responsible adult-”. That tone is ominous as fuck, damnit. “-a responsible adult who does absolutely know how to safely handle ectoplasm-”. Oh Ancients.
Danny cuts him off, “what did you do to my classroom?”.
“Wh-what? I- nothing. Better question is what and why did you, honestly really, have a bomb-rigged drawer? Also, how does someone... convince a chunk of ectoplasm to get out of your closet and stop eating your ties? I mean, I think it might have eyes but I might also be wrong and it keeps squirming away from the microscope, which why would it do that?”.
Danny gives a pained smile, looks to the barista who’s now holding his venti cup filled with around thirty espresso shots, Danny sighing, “if I give you a fifty, could I convince you to add five more to that?”.
“What?”. Danny absolutely ignores Charles.
The barista looks down at the cup like she’s debating if potential manslaughter due to willful negligence was worth fifty dollars. Apparently yes, yes it is. She adds five more shots and Danny’s down fifty more bucks.
He absolutely catches her squatting down staring vacantly at the fifty muttering, “but was it worth it”, though. He cringes just a little bit; then he gets back to the phone call. Sighing, “blob ghosts typically have eyes, Charles, and the little guy’s eating your ties because you constantly let the things dangle down into your samples and don’t fucking wash them in an ectophobic solution. Gosh”, and rolls his eyes as he sits back down with his friends; who just quirk their eyebrows at him while he keeps talking away, “and of course my desk is bobby-trapped, man. If the G.I.W. activates that they’d be so bothered by the cleanliness breach that they’d just go home”. Tuck chokes and smacks the table comically a couple of times, making loud thumping noises.
Charles actually laughs, “true! So what can you do about the blob, buddy?”.
Danny screws up his face, pulls the phone away from his ear and stares down at it. Glancing to his friends, “a teacher just called me ‘buddy’???”, Danny’s not quite sure how to react to that, them laughing at him doesn’t help. Shaking his head he returns the phone to his ear and gives a cheery, “nope! Enjoy your new pet!”, and hangs up on the guy.
“Wha-”.
Danny starts eating the fries.
Tucker points his second burger at him, “you know...”. Danny pointing right back at him with a fry, “hush you”. He knows he’s a teacher himself alright, geez.
(Charles seemingly took Danny up on that pet comment and actually called FentonWorks for a containment unit and to ask about ‘ghost pet care’, Danny’s mom gave him the phone with a truly dumbfounded expression).
---
Alright, today’s the day. What day? Why the day to get paper assignments for the first goddamn time ever and try not to lose, destroy, contaminate, or otherwise ruin them. He’s fucked. Solidly fucked. But hey, at least it’s also the day to show off his shit fashion choices as well, little ray of sunshine there. Some light in the darkness.
He should probably attempt to win some points with Lancer and wear the dress shirt, honestly. So that’s what he’s gonna do. Depressed banana dress shirt, sequin alien bandana, crushed velvet pants, and what the heck the ‘dead boy’ tailcoat too why not; this boy is getting DRESSED UP today! And fine, yes he looks good based on his mirror's reflection; but his mirror is definitely ecto-contaminated so it might not be entirely trustworthy.
His dad also whistling at him as he heads downstairs for breakfast isn’t trustworthy either, considering the man’s fashion style was less of a ‘style’ and more of a scientific protective mess of orange and the occasional tie. Danny rolls his eyes and waves his dad off, “oh whatever, needed ‘proper attire’”, shrugging loosly, “whatever that means”. Jack beams, “just wear a jumpsuit! That’s always proper!”. Maddie looks away from the microwave she’s nuking some noodles in to glare at him, “not at a reunion, dear”; making Danny chuckle to himself while Jack rubs his neck. She still waves cheerily at Danny as he leaves though so...
-
This is one of those days he actually leaves early enough for a few quick patrol laps around his town, two ectopusses, the Box Ghost (because of course), all followed by him literally tripping into one of Skulker’s traps; hence why he was now peeling a basic ass bear trap -be more creative, tinman- off his leg. At least he had the sense to wipe off the ectoplasm with one of his random shit handkerchiefs before walking to the classroom and loudly dropping said beartrap on his desk in what was probably a slightly terrifying alpha move.
Is he early now? Haha no. At least three people jumped from the sudden loud noise. But fuck, Danny was NOT waiting around for Skulker to show his ass for longer than three minutes. Danny had shit to do, man. And apparently the local poacher can’t bother to be punctual when his traps go off. Fuck.
James blinks, “what the fuck?”. While Valerie just sighs and rolls her eyes, leaning back against her chair, “you stumbled on one of Skulker’s traps, didn’t you?”. Danny waves a hand around limply, “yeah? Yer point?”; making her roll her eyes at him very hard.
Danny doesn’t even get a chance to pick up the whiteboard marker before he’s pausing as his throat ices up, him holding up a finger, and just turning to walk right back out the classroom door. Fucking Skulker, goddamnit. But hey, his tailcoat whipping/fluttering about in the air in a way that was actually kinda badass was probably cool looking. He doesn’t have attendance points but he does have style points today motherfuckers.
Dale blinking, “did he just walk in only to leave again?”, slapping the desk, “well I guess he did drop off a bear trap from a ghost so... samples count as teaching?”. Todd snorting and rolling his eyes, “that doesn’t count for shit”; Valerie just chucks a pencil at him.
“I’m more interested in his whole get up. Who pairs a fucking tailcoat with sequin anything?”.
“Oh shut it, Amber. At least he didn’t come in wit a tie or a freaking suit”.
Dash snorts and actually laughs a little, “oh imagine that little twink in a suit! Ha!”. Which just makes Valerie smirk and turn to the jock, “he looks better in one than you do, Dash”.
“Oh fuck you, reject”. That comment was the only excuse Valerie felt she needed for proceeding to kick him in the chin, which might have started up a minor brawl by the time Danny got back.
Danny’s mildly attempting to fix his hair when he hip-checks his way back into his classroom, pausing with his hand stuck halfway through his hair at Valerie just having Dash in a headlock on the floor. Danny blinking, “mmmmm’ ‘kay”. Which fine, the class starts laughing at him for. Danny talks right over said chuckling, “so once somebody’s done with their little vice grip, or whatever, on another person everyone can relinquish their vice grip on their assignment shit and gimme gimme”. Val flips him off but hey, at least she lets Dash start breathing again. It’s something. And everyone does, in fact, start getting up to give him their work. Valerie trying to quietly and subtly ask him if ‘he’s okay’ when she hands hers over though. Danny sighing and shrugging limply, “eh I’m good, Skulker’s gonna be hearing from my lawyers though”, and smirks; resulting in Val smacking him over the head with a scowl.
-
Lancer showing up just after the bell, looking Danny up and down, and nodding with a, “good”, is weirdly chastising and awkwardly awkward. Ashley giggling to herself, “oh I get it, boy got in trouble for his clothing ‘choices’”. Danny points at her aggressively, “hush you”. Lancer leaves without choosing to comment on that.
---
Does Danny basically use the next couple of school days to make the school/his class his own personal fashion runway? Yes, yes he does. Did he also decide to melt some glue on the end of his tailcoat and file it to be sharp and blade-like? Yup. Was that very thing why Millie was currently done with his shit and arguing with him? Also yes.
“He cut the case lock for the microscope and ruined an entire three hundred dollar machine! We’re allowed to be armed but not wear literal blades as clothing!”.
Lancer is very clearly restraining a sigh.
Charles shrugs from the couch, “hey buddy, it was my machine and you don’t see me complaining”, looking to Danny, “I’m more curious about the how honestly”. Which fucking tracks for the man. Millie gestures at Charles, garish bangle bracelets clinking around in the process, “it’s the schools”, turning to Lancer, “at least fine the child”.
Danny crosses his arms, “hey, I’m eighteen not a ‘child’”, he was still considered a child ghost but that was besides the point.
Lancer pinches his nose and holds up a hand, which Millie actually listens too thank fuck for that. Danny’s pretty sure Lancer is literally the only person that lady respects even slightly. “While I’m certain it was an accident-”, glancing at Danny which Danny rubs his neck sheepishly over before Lancer continues, “-and the school could certainly just add this onto the Fenton tab, I doubt that would pose much of a solution for the fact that you simply don’t like Daniel very much, Millie”.
Millie huffs and crosses her arms, “he’s a menace-”. Danny can’t even argue against that. “-is barely older than most of the students-”. Also true. “-and couldn’t we have literally anyone else, anyone who’s a competent decent respectable person, teach his elective”. Oh this woman just loved mocking and treating non-core classes as lesser.
Danny smirks, “be careful or Remi’s gonna put paint in your pencil drawer again”. She scowls at him for that, pointing at him aggressively, “I know you helped her with that”. Danny will neither confirm nor deny that, “oh but how could I possibly remember when your nasty yellow fake nails are being way too distracting”.
“Why I never-”.
Lancer interjects at this point, Danny’s surprised the man even let him finish his witty comeback/insult. “That’s enough, you two clearly need some bonding time so-”, looking to the math teacher, “-Millie, you’ll be sitting in on Daniel’s class, I know you don’t have any scheduled class during that time and that you’re all caught up on grading, so don’t give me that excuse”; she scowls at him. Lancer looking to Danny, “and Daniel, you’ll sit in on her second block grade twelves”, glaring, “and no bathroom breaks”. Danny sags and whines very dramatically and very petulantly; Charles just starts snickering while attempting -and failing- to cover up said snickering with his hand.
Danny is so not impressed. Neither is Millie but that’s not Danny’s problem now is it. But now that Danny thinks about it, this is the perfect excuse to talk about ghost hunger and force someone who didn’t sign up for this shit to listen to/deal with his shit. Danny might just give Millie a more than slightly malicious smirk as he shoves Charles out of the way enough to sit on the couch; the man just rolling with it while trying not to laugh at his expense any further.
Danny only came early today for the cookies Remi said she’d drop off in the lounge, look how hard that bit him in the ass. Doesn’t even have time to sit and enjoy more than one cup of coffee now. Fuck. Wearing his SATAN bandana was probably asking for it a bit though. Flipping out his phone while nibbling on a cookie and blatantly ignoring Millie storming out in a huff.
thealiveone: so guess who just jacked up the tab AND pissed off mille
PDAxpda: millies the math teach right?
Nightshade: nice
thealiveone: yup! she like always hates me nothing new there
thealiveone: she no happy about recent bought of destruction of property
PDAXpda: someone needs to chill that’s what you do
thealiveone: ouch but yes and now have excuse to force her to hear out ghost hunger
Nightshade: you cruel cruel man I apporv
Nightshade: that bitch gave me so much shit about my ‘satanic’ fashion
thealiveone: ahhh yes I remever that
thealiveone: from back when we were young
thealiveone: our youthful days
PDAXpda: *pfffft*
thealiveone: anyone any one want cookies?
Nightshade: 😆🙃 sure Danny
-
By the time it’s time for Danny to head to his shit he has consumed three cookies and stuffed around eight intangibly inside his body for safekeeping; not like Sam and Tuck gave a shit about eating/using stuff from inside him.
Is Millie waiting judgementally outside of his classroom? Yes. Does he care? No. The class absolutely eyes him and the math teacher as he waltz’s in though. Todd snickering, “ooooo someone needs a babysitter do they?”. Danny just smirks, “oh no Lance-y’s just punishing his problem children. Anyway today’s subject will be light cannibalism”, and smirks wickedly.
Millie glares while taking a seat off to the side, “I’m not the child here”.
“I’m not the one being petty”.
“You broke a three hundred dollar machine”.
“And? Your point?”.
At this point most of the class is snickering, Valerie shakes her head, “you never change, Danny”. Danny finger-gunning, “and never plan to”. Millie’s scowl deepens.
Danny rummages through his desk muttering, “where’d I put it, where’d I put it”, all the while. Because fine, maybe he was saving this subject for when he thought it would be the most impactful, so sue him. Grinning when he actually finds and starts digging out the little habitat with around five or six blob ghosts in it. Well technically they were blebs, a subspecies of blobs, but whatever. These would have probably been a lot easier to find if he hadn’t modified the bottom drawer to be connected to a slight pocket dimension… but then they wouldn’t have even fit in the drawer in the first place. You win some you lose some.
James blinking as Danny puts the container on his desk somewhat loudly, “huh, guess it’s ‘live’ specimens again. Neat”. Emilie grins, “awww they’re cute”, then glares/smirks at Valerie daring the girl to argue. Valerie just rolls her eyes. Danny also pulling out a blender makes everyone go awkwardly and cautiously silent though. Danny’s just busy cursing while he tries to plug the stupid thing in, “why the f̴̢uc̸̢k is it all bent up?”. No one elects to point out any obvious answers to that one.
Danny walking back over to his desk and popping open the bleb containment unit, “so anyone wanna taste test some basic b̴̡i҉̧t͟͟ch̕͠ ghost food?”, and proceeds to drop the bleb into the blender while simultaneously turning it on; does he get ecto splattered on his face because he forgot the blender lid? Oh absolutely and he’s cool with that. At least half the class jerks back and/or screws up their faces. Millie looks deeply offended; success! Danny licks a bit off of his cheek while staring at the class just to be extra. Dash and Val are the only ones who look completely unphased -though Todd’s trying to look unphased- seeing as both of them had seen him straight-up eat a ghost before.
Ashley squeaks, “um, no?”. Which Danny busts out laughing over and losses his composure, sitting on the edge of his desk, “I’m not serious, Ashley. And don’t worry about the little guy, as we’ve discussed, non-cored ghosts basically respawn”, holding up a finger, “plus! Bleb’s like being eaten”, at that he takes a swig straight from the blender and winks at Millie.
Jasper mutters, “oh Zone he’s doing this to fuck with Ms. Felmer”.
“Mood”.
“Understandable”.
Dale chuckles, “I knew Danny was a menace but damn”. Dash looks a little freaked out, “did I mess his taste buds up by making him eat my underwear?”. Danny absolutely has to address that, pointing at him with the blender slightly, “you are not nearly that influential on my life, Dash”.
“Whatever, Fentaco”.
Millie actually snaps, “Mr. Baxter”, over that jab; making the jock roll his eyes and huff. Her voice sounding a wee bit strained pleases Danny greatly though. Truly.
Danny taps the containment container, “now remember I have a really bloody weird ecto-contamination so do not try that at home. Anyway, ghost hunger involves the eating of ghosts. Surprise surprise, I know. And if none of you leave this class today without losing your lunch I will feel personally offended…”. Again, why did the principal think putting this class directly after lunch was a good idea? Oh well, the janitor's problem now.
-
Did anyone actually wind up throwing up? Yes actually. Not Millie though, much to Danny’s dismay. She did look close multiple times though. And fine, maybe, maybe, Danny went into far more detail than really necessary. Which absolutely explains Brittney sticking up a hand and asking, “how do you even know this this well”, while looking more than a little sick. A few other teens nodding their agreement and mutual curiosity.
Danny snickers, “I have walked in on Technus showering and brushing his teeth, do you really think I haven’t walked in repeatedly on a ghost eating another ghost. Especially when all our local blobs and whisps are totally smitten with Phantom’s stomach?”. That earns him a very loud round of gagging, and Val’s staring at her desk like she’s having a mild crisis. Ah today’s been a good day.
“Forget I asked. What the Hell”.
That just makes Danny smirk as the bell goes off. That makes Danny jolt out of his seat, summon his green quill out of his hair, and start wildly scribbling on the board, “oh! Oh! Before you go, grab your assignment şh͘͜i҉͞t̶͝ and to the person who wrote about the theory that Phantom’s a parasitic species and that’s why he can stay here so long -you know who you are- I hate you. Your little quizzes are in there too, I realise I was lazy about marking şh͘͜i҉͞t̶͝ don’t at me. Also also, this-”, tapping the board, “-is the room I’ll be in for the parent-teacher thingy ma jiggy not this room, for reasons”. Which gets him more than a little snickering and some pointed glances at the -now empty- blender, while everyone takes their graded shit. Danny’s just glad he managed to not lose or destroy anyone’s shit. Though Emilie’s quiz did have a mysterious new ectoplasm stain that he… attempted… to get out. He tried okay?
Millie glares at him as she gets up last to leave, “you, boy, are an affront to humanity”, then promptly leaves. Danny puts a hand to his chest and very loudly says, “why thank you”.
Unfortunately, he is now stuck staying here ‘till her shitty math class. Fuck. Sighing loudly at his ceiling before smirking and chuckling a little, “time to do some sketchy shit, do da, do da”. He could use some ghost summoning practice.
-
Needless to say half an hour later the schools been evacuated and there’s a pissed off dragon ghost -not from Dora’s kingdom which kinda shocked Danny- flying around. Most of the teachers are glaring at him, Lancer included. At least he’s got a duplicate of himself in Phantom form off throwing fist-a-cuffs; well… more like arguing aggressively about not meaning to summon the one goddamn dragon that wasn’t from the Draconic's kingdom.
Lancer sighs at grounded human form him, “you’re still sitting in on Millie’s math class”.
“Awwwww”. Danny smirks a little, “also, I need a new desk chair”. Lancer puts his head in his hands and shakes his head faintly.
Danny (as Phantom) and the goddamn dragon pause as Red flys up on her hoverboard. Danny waving goofily, “sup Red”, pointing at the dragon, “he’s just upsetti spaghetti, not a real problemo”. He can feel Red’s annoyance and disapproval. The dragon just growls and attempts to breathe fire at her; which she obviously dodges.
Danny gestures at the dragon while she basically unloads on them, “blame your teacher of ghost things!”, and then resumes attempting to capture the dragon. He can easily hear Red mutter, “Zone damn it, Danny”; which fine, he chuckles at.
Eventually, Danny does manage to get the dragon into his thermos. There’s probably one more ghost out there with a bone to pick with him though. Oops. He’s not even slightly surprised to get a chat message from Val a little later.
Robin: whhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy
thealiveone: 😏
thealiveone: are you not entertained
Robin: 😑🖕🏻
thealiveone: *snicker*
(Danny still does, in fact, have to sit through math, which was just as torturous as he remembers. Millie made it even more awful of course. Though unlike him she didn’t change her class plan just to fuck with his day, she did treat him like a student and called on him to answer questions constantly though… that got him so much subtle mocking).
---
The parent-teacher thing comes up way quicker than he would have liked. Lancer giving him a shoulder pat as Danny slumps down into this room's chair, “I’m sure this will go just fine”. Danny rolls his eyes, “I’m a literal teen, Lance. Adult-y folks aren’t known for respecting teens or whatever”.
Lancer deadpans, “somehow, Daniel, I doubt you actually care”. Making Danny snort, “true true. I do still have a point though”.
“Which is exactly why I’ll be staying here and supervising”.
Danny actively groans at that. But fine, understandable.
Of course the first parents, fuck this is weird Ancients, show up while Danny’s partway through spinning around in his chair. It’s Emilie and she is smirking, telling Danny that they absolutely don’t know this random teen is the teacher. Hell yeah time to fuck with them.
Emilie’s mom looks around, “oh is the teacher not here yet?”, looking to Lancer, “I doubt you’re also the ecto-ology teacher”. Lancer actually chuckles a little at that before shaking his head.
Danny snorts and stands up a bit dramatically, “sorry to say but… he died. Totally dead”. Emilie snickers into her hand. Val picks that exact moment to barge in herself with her dad, “Danny, stop telling people you’re dead. You walking problem”.
Mr. Gray quirks an eyebrow at Danny, “ah so my Valerie was telling the truth, somehow I’m both surprised and not”, then walks right up to Danny, claps him on the shoulder, and says, “good for you, lad”. Which Danny rubs his neck a bit sheepishly over. Both Val’s dad and Tuck’s folks worried about his ass, usually more than his own folks did; which, yes, was kinda a bit fucking wild.
Emilie’s mom blinks and looks to her husband then back to Danny, “you’re? the teacher?”. Lancer takes that moment to actually speak up, “indeed Daniel is. Arguably he’s the most qualified for the position, and excluding some… incidences… his performance is more than acceptable”.
Danny snorts, “complimenting and insulting me all in one go, nice”, and finger-guns at the man. Lancer just gives him a fond but exasperated look.
Emilie’s mom purses her lips before shrugging after a bit. Her and her husband both walking over and sitting down, Emilie lounging behind. “Well alright then, though you are certainly a little young to be in such a position of power-”. Danny has to seriously resist throwing his head back, cackling, and saying ‘you have no idea’ at that because fuck saying he had too much power was a goddamn fucking understatement. “-but how is she doing?”, looking over her shoulder to eyeball Emilie slightly, “not being too much of a distraction”.
Danny snorts, “ma’am, being a distraction is basically my job in class. I guess you could say I encourage active discussion and pretty much ignore the ‘put up your hand before speaking’ rule altogether”. Emilie snorts, “considering you blew up the classroom a few days ago…”.
Her dad sighs, “well I guess that’s still better than Jack”. Which fine, Danny snorts at.
Danny pointing at the man, “to be fair, I’ve taken plenty protective measures and do, in fact, know what I’m doing. The accidental wrong dragon summoning was just a miscalculation and wasn’t even during class time”.
Lancer glares at him a little, “yes, and now you’re banned from unapproved experimentation”. Danny just pouts at him before actually doing the class talking stuff he’s supposed to be doing. Val and her dad are just ‘waiting’ off to the side and chuckling at him faintly.
When it is Mr. Gray’s turn the man immediately asks, “she’s not letting outside interests interfere with your class, is she?”. Danny can practically feel the threat of grounding coming off of that question, holy shit. Lancer dutifully pretends to not be listening, Danny is goddamn postivite Lancer knows about Val since she’s way easier to figure out than him.
Danny chuckles, “naw, in fact I can say that my class is the only one she doesn’t ditch”, and gives a very cocky proud grin. Like a preening peacock. Val glares at him a little, “that’s because you boobytrapped the door. No one can leave unless you let them”. Danny just smirks more, “what can I say? I know how to hold a hostage or two”. Val clearly can’t help snorting/laughing at that. Mr. Gray actually looks a little pleased and impressed.
From there pretty much all the meetings are boring and pretty typical. Granted he did tell Todd’s folks that ‘Todd’s a real dick’, which Lancer apologised for on Danny’s behalf. Todd’s dad saying ‘oh we know’ threw Lancer through a bit of a loop though. And apparently Danny calling their son a dick made him more trustable in their eyes, who knew? Dash’s dad made a joke about how ‘hey aren't you that boy my son whipped into shape?!?’ and laughed heartily. Which lead to Lancer going off on a tangent about Mrs. Testlauf’s unhealthy teaching methods, which is how Danny learned that there is a serious beef between the two.
But then came Sophia with her parents, Sophia was one of the freshmen whose family moved here somewhat recently. Girl basically never talked and always seemed cautious. She did perk up a little whenever anything really dark or gory came up -can’t exactly talk about dead people without speaking of brutal horrid violent death- so Danny thinks she’s, like, a closet Goth or Emo or something. Sam would love to introduce her to the ookie spookie side.
Mrs. Holly comes in walking like she’s a judgmental holier-than-thou know it all with some serious entitlement issues, so Danny’s pretty sure this is just going to be so fun. Sophia looks a little more meek and sheepish than usual too. Mrs. Holly huffs, “I truly can’t believe they’d have such a garish class nonetheless let a child from such a proper family take it”, and huffs for a second time. Mr. Holly shaking his head, “truly unbelievable”. Ahhh Danny can see where this is going, even Lancer's frowning a little. Now Danny could either be ‘responsible’ and handle this ‘like an adult’ or he could just choose violence. He’s a combative motherfucker so one option is much more appetising.
Lancer speaks up first, “if you ask me, this class should be, and in the future will be, mandatory. A core subject. It’s a matter of safety after all”. Danny points at him, “and the general knowledge is way more useful than social or math”. Lancer gives him one unimpressed look at that. Danny shrugs and waves him off, “what? Everyone has calculators in their pockets, there isn’t an app for ghosts”.
The parents decide to speak up at that. Mr. Holly scoffing sarcastically, “ah yes, this ‘ghosts’ thing”. Which tells Danny exactly what kind of head-stuck-in-the-sand motherfuckers these guys are. Mrs. Holly nods and scowls at Danny, “yes, we didn’t expect this town to be a satanic cult stronghold”. Which makes Danny cough because that was not quite what he was expecting. Even Lancer coughs and goes a little bug-eyed.
Danny blinks, “excuse me? Do you not believe in ghosts and just think this town is under the delusions of a cult?”. This was actually a new one for Danny. What the fuck.
“We believe in Jesus. Sad to say you clearly don’t, doing the devil's work. ‘Ghosts’ ‘from the afterlife’. As if those are not other words for ‘demon’ and ‘Hell’. And I am not impressed that my little girl is being allowed to be indoctrinated like this. This is why we need more support for proper Christian homeschooling”, she nods to herself with a huff. Mr. Holly nodding readily as well.
This is actually the first time Danny’s ever been called a literal demon actually. He’s been called a demon child or little devil but not literally a demon. Like, a ‘from Hell’ type demon. Should he be flattered? Maybe? Oh whatever. But choosing violence would be the ‘demonic’ thing to do right? So Danny snorts, “I mean if you wanna raise your kid badly and mess them up for adult life, go right ahead. But when your kid doesn’t know what to do during a ghost attack when we get randomly assaulted by a sentient tornado or invaded by another dragon, don’t come complaining to me. Also don’t come complaining to me when your kid moves out at seventeen and refuses to talk to you for twenty-three years”. Lancer looks like he wants to stop him and make him shut up but also really doesn’t want to. Danny’s probably a bad influence on the man. “If you don’t want to believe in ghosts, something very explicitly real unlike your unproven book god, that’s your dealio. But come on and have some decency and let your kid make up their own mind, yeah?”.
Mr. Holly blinks at him, “how old are you?”. Making Danny laugh, “physically? eighteen. Mentally? A lot older than you, clearly”. Both adults look suitably offended by that and Sophia has a tiny smile though also seems more than a little nervous. Her folks are probably the ‘my house, my rules’ and ‘I brought you into this world I can bring you out’ and ‘this is the way this family does things, so you have to as well’ types.
Mrs. Holly scoffs, “this is unbelievable”, turning around to Sophia -who has a good Poker face, which is actually kind of concerning/depressing- and snapping, “to think you’d even select such a class”. Sophia muttering, “I find it interesting”, chewing her lip a little, “and he did bring proof of them day one”. Mrs. Holly rolls her eyes, “oh yeah? What proof?”, and actively looks like she just won this conversation; which Danny is so not having.
So Danny, being Danny and the undead gremlin child that he is, shouts, “this proof!”, and proceeds to grab an ecto-apple from inside his tailcoat, smashing it down on the desk hard enough to make it explode, and grins slightly manically while the green ectoplasm juice and chunks bubble, start moving, develop eyes and mouths, start sticking up like deadman’s finger fungus, and then start shrieking.
Lancer chokes. The parents jerk and jump back, having gotten splattered slightly. Sophia just blinks wide-eyed, taking a slight step back; she was, after all, slightly more used to Danny and his general wackiness.
Danny sticks his finger in the coagulated mass of screaming green horror and starts swirling it/his finger around, grinning manically still, “proof enough fer ya?”. He does pull out a thermos and suck the stuff up when the desk starts steaming though.
The parents say nothing for a bit before Mr. Holly stammers, “we-we will n-not be deceive-deceived by a w-witch”. Which Danny snorts at, “I’ve got a friend who’s a witch, but naw, not really my thing. I prefer to chill it with the dead rather than pagan gods”, tilting his head, “though I guess some pagan gods are also ghosts so eh”, and shrugs.
Mrs. Holly scowls, turns on her heels, and leaves. Snapping, “come on Sophia”. Her husband scampering after her. Danny waves in the most fruity way he can, speaking singsong,“🎵bbbyyyyeeeeee🎵“, looking to Sophia, “see you on Monday, yeah?”. She just nods at him with a slight smile.
Mr. Lancer blinks after a bit, “Daniel… I almost feel like I need to write you up for that entire stunt”, holding up a finger while pinching his nose and leaning back in his chair, “but. You probably did the right thing”. Danny can’t help chuckling at that, “I mean, I would say I did the right thing but my opinion on my own behaviour is absolutely super-duper biased”. Lancer glares at him while he continues, “and really? not believing in ghosts is a good way to wind up dead. Better to bite that bullshit in the ass than let them think throwing holy water at Johnny would be a good idea”.
Lancer blinks, “they would likely have bad luck for the rest of their lives”. Danny nods immediately, “understatement. Kitty would send that man to her alternate kiss dimension in a heartbeat”. Lancer just stares at him a little bit, “has… has that happened to you?”.
“Happened to all of Amity’s men slash boys once”.
Lancer chooses to not respond to that.
---
“Hmmmm. I see. He is rather handling it well. Fulfilling the proper and respective duties”.
“Ah yes indeed. As… begrudging as that is to admit”.
“We’ll have to have a… conversation”.
“But of course”.
“Most unfortunate”.
“Indeed”.
“But he will accept what he’s due”.
“As he should”.
“However, we can never be sure with… that one”.
“Truly unfortunate”.
“Time and her overseer favour that one far too much”.
“And yet they are right, which is also quite unfortunate”.
“Yes. Quite”.
“Well shall we get to it?”.
“Hmmmm no. Let four nine eight and four nine one deal with that one, they are unwise yet”.
“Very well. Watcher”.
Chapter 5: I Am The Guardian Of The Knowledge! The Knowledge Guardian!
Danny is having a morning alright? Sure he had a good-ish sleep, seeing as he apparently did decently well with the parent/teacher thingy excluding the fact that the school had now acquired a religious discrimination complaint (not that the school cared). And also sure, maybe he got out of genuinely fighting Technus by humble bragging since that ghost was ‘a man of science’ and thus was a sucker for any gossip involving someone taking the piss out of religious folks. Also also, he got waffles this morning. Big plus there.
So you’d think with all that he’d be about to have an awesome morning but nope. Instead, he is currently actively running away from his consequences. Well okay, mostly flying but he can’t exactly do that once he got to school.
Danny walks briskly into the classroom and shuts the door very firmly, even going so far as to lock it a bit dramatically before turning around and giving the class an awkward smile. Heading up to the board, “alright f͜ư͘ck҉͘ę͏r͡s̛-”.
He absolutely ignores the, “Open up”, from outside the door. Chuckling very awkwardly while the class glances at the door then back to him. Danny clearing his throat, “so now that the parent-teacher stuff is outta the way and y’all proved you’re not totally stupid with the quiz and mini lab thing. Why don’t we move on to lairs and contamination-”.
“Daniel James Janus Fenton”.
Danny sighs very audibly and stares up at the ceiling for a second, everyone else quirking eyebrows, snickering, or talking at each other.
“Uhhhh, I feel like he’s using us somehow”.
“Does he seriously have two middle names?”.
Valerie grumbles to herself a bit about how she didn’t even know Danny had a second middle name.
“Better yet one of them is ‘Janus’? The Hell?”.
“Ha, serves the freak right”.
Danny clears his throat a little, “anyway, the Eyes Of Ovi Colosseum is a perfect example of a really stupid specified lair for some mouthless d͏͜į͡ck҉̸͞s҉ nitpicking over laws who think they somehow have the right to control other peoples existences”, and throws a mild glare at the door. Bunch of floating cloaked dicks.
Emilie snorts and laughs into her hand, “oooh someone’s trying to throw a little shade”.
A couple of people chuckle at the, “we have responsibilities, Daniel. Now will you allow us an attendance with you”, that speaks up from the other side of the door.
James quirks an eyebrow, “that sounded more like a threat than a ‘please let me in, dickhead’”. Earning some nods and more chuckles.
“I’m more curious who Danny pissed off enough to stand angrily outside of the ghost-proofed door”.
Danny holds up a finger, “technically, they’re cops”. Earning him a round of shocked gasps and scandalised looks of horror. Rolling his wrist, “anyway, their lair is, like, the biggest standing prison. Vortex’s in it”, shrugging, “they might have tried assassinating me once…”, Danny continues without acknowledging or explaining on that one. And yes, he mentioned it purely to piss off the Observants and rub it in just a little bit more that they failed at ending his ass.
Once the class over bell rings though… he looks around awkwardly and with a level of fake pleading, “anyone suddenly feel like staying after class?”.
Val actually humours him (which he one hundred percent expected), ditto with Emilie actually. Todd just wants any excuse to skip class that doesn’t require him doing anything legitimately bad like leaving school property. Everyone else opting to get up and head to the door, though flashing him apologetic shrugs… or smirking meanly. You’d think they’d be nicer to a guy that can affect their grades. Fucking jerks. However it is Danny who gets to smirk meanly when there is -surprise surprise- two Observants floating outside his door that all of them have to skirt around very cautiously. The Observants, for their part, completely ignore all of his fellow teens/students; instead they just stare -if eyelidless giant eyes even can stare- at him intensely. Danny waves cheekily; they feel like they’re glaring. And pretty much all the other teens that see the Observants just kind of hide around corners and observe instead of heading to their next class. Nosy shits, Danny would do the exact same. He probably shouldn’t feel proud over their want for gossip outweighing the requirement to go to class or to practice self-preservation, but he totally does.
One of the Observants lifts up a boney green hand and points at him, “we need to speak with you”. Making Danny snort, cross his arms, and lean against his desk, “yeah I think I got that one after the multi-hour stalking session”. Valerie snorts at that though she is eyeballing the Hell out of the fucking ghosts.
“Alone”.
Danny puts a hand to his chest, “aawwwww, confessing your love for me in private? How scandalous”.
The Observant on the left looks to the one on the right, “I now understand why the elders didn’t want to deal with him”. Which fine, makes Danny feel exceptionally proud of himself. Emilie laughs, “oooo, I so want to know what Danny did to hurt these poor elders' feelings or whatever”. Danny side-eyes and smirks at her, “oh only colluded with a god to break the laws of temporal displacement”.
“I can’t even tell if you’re serious”.
Danny’s smirk grows malicious, “good”, then sighing and sagging, looking back to the two Observants, “fiiiiiiine. But no, I don’t know who jailbroke whatever prisoner out. Or where Plasmius has hidden whatever artifact of rare and overwhelming power. Or-”
The Observant on the right actually has the gall to interrupt him, “you are not to blame for anything”. The left one adding on, “currently”; making Danny snort. Him then gesturing at his three ‘students’, “but can’t you see that I am busy? I mean really. Some of us actually have work to do these days”; all three teens chuckling to themselves over that while also mildly pretending to be taking notes or some shit. But with another heftily sigh Danny moves to pack his shit… very slowly. Because technically legitimately snuffing the Observants was a recipe for disaster and Lancer probably wouldn’t appreciate the school getting beset by an army of eyeball assholes purely because Danny felt like being a bastard. That… and it might actually be something mildly important; which, arguably, he shouldn’t just ignore.
Today’s turned into real shit.
Valerie quirks an eyebrow at him when he throws his backpack over his shoulder, making the tailcoat flare out a little, “are you seriously going along with a pair of ghosts”, then glaring at Danny when he rolls his eyes at her.
“Val, it’s perfectly fine. Annoying, but arguably fine”, him shrugging, “it’s not like they can harm me”, looking to the Observants and smirking meanly, “seeing as they are incapable of doing harm”, snorting, “pfffft, fucking pacifists, am I right?”. A couple of people in the hallway are noticeably stifling snickers. The Observants, for their part, just ‘stare’ silently.
Joshep shouts from the hallway, “what are all you kids doing out here?!? Get to class!”. Danny’s pretty sure that he -and the Observants- is the only one who can hear Joshep muttering, “what the Hell did that Fenton kid do now? Why does my classes have to be so close to his? Just why?”.
Danny picks that moment to walk out of his classroom, look at Joshep, and laugh very loudly and sarcastically. Joshep grimaces deeply at him, eyes the two FUCKING GHOSTS, and grimaces deeper but also with slight fear. Val, Todd, and Emilie all slip out behind Danny; Val whispering at him, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Danny”. Making him smirk, “when do I ever”; earning him some major glaring. He’d bet money on her not actually going to class and instead trying to secretively follow him ‘for his safety’.
The hallway gets real empty real fast as soon as Danny walks off with the Observants following him a bit unnecessarily close; that really only encourages him to walk slower though so HA!
Just before exiting the building Danny quickly throws Lancer a text, you know, in case the man tries to go looking for him or some shit. Joshep will probably tattle on him for ‘having pet eyeball ghosts’. Though making a pet of an Observant would be one Hell of a power move, goddamn.
Danny : 🚓🚔🚓
Let his sorta boss think of that what he will, for now, Danny’s gotta go and deal with his problems. Apparently anyways. Kinda hard to skirt ‘the law’ when said ‘law’ were ‘all-seeing’. Fuck him.
-
By the time Danny and his two personal shadows get to the Colosseum he thinks the two Observants might just be starting to get close to overdosing on puns. Probably helps that Danny’s using the shittiest, corniest, dumbest ones he can possibly think of. And to think he only got halfway through his stockpiled eyeball-themed ones!
Him glancing around the Colosseum full of Observants, and apparently ClockWork? off to the side cleaning their staff lazily. Stupid Clocky, Danny so could have used a heads up; throwing them a quick pout -which they smirk slightly over- before looking up at Watcher, the head Observant. Putting his hands in his pockets, “soooooo? The fucks up, extra-large eyeball”.
Watcher leaves him hanging for a little bit before speaking up and Danny can practically hear the reluctance and regret in their voice, “Daniel James Janus Fenton Phantom, I’m certain it should come as no surprise to you that we are well aware of your recently acquired… position, as well as how your performance has tracked”.
Danny snorts, “so what? You fucks care about mortal realm teaching now? Isn’t that shit, you know, beneath you or whatever? Not that I actually care. Go ahead and get your knickers in knots about whatever the fuck you wanna. But this?-”, gesturing around lazily, “-seems a little excessive as retaliation for educating mortals. Dramatic as fuck, which mild props there I guess, but still-”.
Watcher cutting him off, “this is not a punishment, as you’ve already been made aware-”. Danny flips him off for that jab. “-rather your… position makes you qualified and befitted of another”.
What.
No seriously, what the fuck?
Danny blinks and tilts his head, “are you trying to also give me a job offer?”; the fuck is wrong with people and springing sudden surprise job offers for shit he is almost definitely largely not qualified for. Though fine, Danny as Phantom had a fuck tone of qualifications here in the Zone. Fuck, he even technically had right to claim the High Throne!
Watcher almost sighs and glances up for a split second, “the answer to your question is neither affirmative nor contradicting. You have taken actions no other has and doing so with more than just marginal success. As such you are the only being fulfilling the role of educating mortals and working through those means to ease the strained and threatening relationship between our realms-”.
Danny jumps in at that, throwing his hands out to the side, “you’re only now just noticing that?!? I’ve been pretty well doing that since the beginning!”. ClockWork holds up a finger, “but was that out of choice or necessity? And were any instances of you actually being educational simply accidents while you were doing what you do best?”, nodding to themselves almost smugly, “I think we both know the answer there, Daniel”; Danny rolls his eyes though blushes a little. Damn it, Clocky.
Watcher doesn’t actively acknowledge ClockWork -which he’s sure ClockWork’s gonna use as an excuse to fuck with them later. Fuck, they might be fucking with them right now- instead continuing to speak at Danny, “you are being granted a position of Ambassador and Sovereign Wisdom, Guardian of the passing of wisdom between the two realms”.
Danny blinks, oh my Ancients. Okay yes ClockWork was absolutely involved in this and the Observants are absolutely not happy about this. Guardians were BIG FUCKING DEALS. The High Sovereign was basically the only one above Guardians. Well and technically the Observants, but that was debatable. Danny snorts, “wow you guys must really hate yourselves. Here I thought you didn’t want me having more power?”. He can feel multiple glares.
Watcher themselves seemingly glares, “while that still stands, what is earned is earned and what is due is due. And while a Guardian of this variety is not necessary, it is beneficial to the realm and future. And, begrudgingly, you do it well”. Danny has to roll his eyes at that, the Observants and their ‘for the betterment of the future’, that got old before he even met them. He does actually put on his more serious face/posture when Watcher floats down to be more on level with him. “so will you accept?”.
“What, in any world, would make you think I’d say no? You don’t have to beg me, you bunch of eyeball crybabies?”. Like really? HE WAS ALREADY DOING THE ‘JOB’. The only reason he didn’t take the High Throne was the added boatloads of responsibilities; that, and he’d have to spend so much time here that he might as well just live in the Zone… not happening anytime soon.
“Very well”. Watcher raises a hand and waves it, a sceptre forming next to their hand floating in the air before it starts moving towards him slowly. Danny decides to leave Watcher hanging and mildly admire the black Arbutus wood with glowing blue carvings across it, legit looked pretty hecking cool. Clocky’s stiff pinstriped staff design wouldn’t exactly suit Danny’s quirkiness. The prehnite crystal on top was a definitively spooky pale opac green with green glowing falling feathers inside; at least the green in green didn’t look weird.
Danny shrugging after a bit and reach out to grab it, the three little silver bells secured by blue leather rope surrounding the crystal chiming slightly from the jostling. Danny furrowing his brows a little and sniffing at said bells; ignoring the twitching in his limbs from connecting to the artifact. Huh, well that smells a heck of a lot like sandalwood and frankincense; eh there was probably some inside. Danny is absolutely blaming the dangling red and green feathers on Ghost Writer giving him a fucking quill though.
Shrugging Danny leans the thing lazily on his shoulder and pointedly makes a point to not react even slightly to the weird pulsing come from in towards his core. Little uncomfortable but not nearly as uncomfortable as being impaled by a giant fishhook. Or mauled by a tiger. Or watching his dad disco dance in public. Little more uncomfortable than Lancer’s attempts to be ‘hip’ and ‘cool’ and ‘relatable’.
Danny thinks he’s being glared at again. ClockWork is absolutely smirking in the stands. Danny also not reacting to a cloak magically poofing into existence attached to his neck is probably annoying the Observants even more. Ha, suck on that. He is the unphaseable one! Phased by nothing! Who is also apparently king of knowledge! Lord of knowing! Yet stupid enough to show up with his clothes backwards more than once (how the fuck did he accidentally wear a jacket backwards and not notice it? Seriously self. Gosh). He does glance at the cloak though, lifting up one side judgingly. Chuckling, “black with blue stitching? What? No green to accent my eyes?”.
“We do not choose the appearance”.
Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah no fucking shit. Blue’s an educational, or whatever the fuck, colour”, tilting his head, “and Lancer’s why I even know that. Huh”. Poetry symbolism was useful for something he guesses. Oh and the clasp is a quill, goddamn that Ghost Writer. Fuck. He’s definitely ignoring whatever symbolism might be behind the slightly bondage harness-looking triple straps going across his chest, he doesn’t want to know honestly. The hood tip zig-zagging like a lightning bolt is supremely obvious though. Like, painfully obvious. patting it a little and looking back to the Observant, “so this all the shit? Don’t feel like fucking with my half-life any further?”.
Watcher almost audibly sighs, turns to borderline glare at ClockWork, “dress your child, ClockWork”. ClockWork grins and pretends not to hear them for a second before floating down.
Danny is perfectly content to let his ClockPops ruffle up his hair, both of them side-eyeing Watcher with mean smirks while ClockWork boops Danny on the cheek with their staff; Danny letting their energy mess with his appearance more than willingly. Suddenly his tailcoat is on him in ghost form, which yeah feels a little weird. An (ecto-ha) green frilled poet blouse underneath with little cufflinks that have ghost pipes (ha!) on them. Crushed black velvet trousers, straight cut and wide/baggy. Silver armoured boots and gloves, which fine, he’s a combative motherfucker. He can also feel some shit going on with his hair, a quick pat-down proving that apparently ClockWork decided he needed some flowers in his hair. Goddamn better be ghost pipes. Danny chuckling, “nice, Clocky”; they smirk lightly and fondly at him.
“But of course, Daniel”.
Watcher does their little hand-wavey glittery thingy taking an in-time ‘photo’ of him to send out through the realm, because bitch there be a new Guardian. Danny just chuckles, “can I go now?”.
“We’d prefer you did”.
Danny snorts, throws a peace sign and finger guns before just fucking off entirely. Him turning away to stalk off making the cloak swish in the air which reveals that the end is, like, curled up into something resembling a scroll. Fucking symbolism, Ancients.
-
Turning human when he gets back reveals the cloak changes to light blue with black stitching, well that’s convenient. Seeing as technically he’s supposed to wear the thing whenever he’s doing his ‘job’ so it changing with his forms is probably for the best. Phantom’s the Ambassador, Fenton’s the Sovereign Wisdom. Plus wearing a cloak to school is totally a weird quirky thing to do, which is perfectly up his alley. Sick as shit too. He’s gonna wear the hood down while human, up and tucked right behind his ears while Phantom; just for that little added difference. Danny had some sense of self-preservation. His clothing is still exactly what his ClockPops gave him… well okay the shoes look slightly more dress shoey than like straight-up knight's boots; eh that’s probably for the best too. Less noisy. And a head pat-down shows that the flowers have gone, good seeing as Sam would mock him relentlessly otherwise.
Whelp, he’s going home now. Because fuck doing anything else. Seriously. A quick check of his phone, however, reveals that Lancer actually got back to him.
Lance: for future reference, Daniel, please reframe from ‘getting ghost arrested’ during school hours.
Lance: I would appreciate a call, after hours of course.
Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, eh might as well do that on his walk home. “Sup, Lance. I do not have another arrest on my record and I also did not destroy another jail”.
“I do hope that is not sarcastic, but I’m glad you’re alright from the sounds of it”.
Danny snorts, kicking a rock down the road, “nope. No sarcasm here. Perfectly fine. Just had to stand and talk in front of an entire colosseum of ghost cops slash judges and get my sentence”, snickering to himself, “now see that was sarcastic. Well, mostly. Really it was just me getting acknowledgement, or whatever, for basically teaching ‘the mortals’”.
That actually gets Lancer laughing a little, “well my job offer was never meant to get you in trouble or cause you hassle, though I doubt you mind much”.
Danny huffs and rolls his eyes, glaring at the stoplight to hurry the fuck up, “considering this let me annoy the absolute fuck out of the Observants? Zone no I don’t mind. Also I have a cloak now, that I am required to wear. So have fun with that school uniform upgrade”.
“Oh? I can’t wait to see, Daniel. I’m sure you’ll make the appearance work, so long as you don’t show up in a hazmat jumpsuit”.
Okay that one Danny has to laugh at, loudly, “yeah, no, that’ll never happen!”. He might love his suit but wearing anything remotely similar while human was just begging for trouble. Actively and explicitly.
“Good, good. Now I’m sure after all that excitement you’ve got work to do, so since I know you’re fine I’ll let you go”.
Danny smirks, “oh Ancients no, I’m going to bed and napping like the dead”.
“Bye, Daniel”.
Danny chuckles as the man hangs up, got ‘em with the death jokes.
---
Sam snickers and pokes Danny on the cheek, him flipping around in the air to avoid her prodding fingers, pouting at her, “meanie”. Now some may wonder why is she pestering him? well because an early morning flight revealed that the flower hair was still a thing and was likely to be a permanent thing at that. Fun. And he can’t even really be mad, because it’s basically a gift from Clocky. Ever rare and always cherished… by him at least.
Tucker goes and flicks one, “at least they’re ghostly”. Earning an eyeroll from Danny, “har har har, though fully agreed”, looking to Sam, “I am so looking forward to a confused and panicked call from Vlad. Because this-”, gesturing to his entire body, which while is back to his jumpsuit, he is still rocking the cloak and the staff’s stuck in a little solid prehnite ring, “-is not ‘standard halfa physical changes’ and we know how Vlad pays waaaaaaay too much attention to my physical appearance”.
Sam barks a laugh, “he pays more attention than you do”.
“In my defence, Vladdie’s got all the time in the world to be a weird nosey bastard. I, however, am a busy busy man”.
Tucker puts a hand to his chest, “if only you could work from home like me”; earning him a smack over the head from Sam. Danny just chuckles, transforming back human and planting his one good foot on the ground, “that’s only because they decided you’d be too much of a security and safety threat otherwise”.
“That changes nothing”.
Danny throwing his arms around their shoulders as they walk into the school. The administration just ignores them and doesn’t even try to force his two friends to get visitors badges, knew a lost cause when they saw one. Danny glances from one to another, “so you two just sitting in for funsies?”.
Sam rolls her eyes while Tucker chuckles, “Hell yeah why not”. Which Danny just laughs at while using their shoulders as support to lift himself off the ground, swing his legs up, and double kicks open his classroom door.
Ashley jumps, startled, and joins the rest of the class in staring at him before muttering, “Uh, how is it that we’re almost always here slightly before you”.
Danny scoffs, “because I’m chill like that”, while his friends carry him to and drop him into his seat before wandering to the back of the classroom. Danny holds up a finger, “also-”, throwing his one leg up onto the desk, gesturing at his armoured ‘dress shoes’ because yes, he’s still wearing Clocky’s gifts, “-I broke my leg in three separate places this morning. Fun, I know, no need to be jealous. Also got in a little light stabbing because I may have put a little too much effort into sassing someone”.
Valerie sighs very audibly and painfully, “Danny, why? Just why?”, she has long since learned to not care all that much about his injuries. His contamination whisked them away like magic anyway.
Emilie snorts, “I’m more interested in the fucking cloak”. Which Amber absolutely chimes in on, “talk about a fashion don't”. Danny points at her, “hey f̵̶uc̡k̶͝͞ you”; earning more than a couple laughs. Danny shrugging, “anyway, cloaky grants me special knowledge powers so I am officially ‘wise’”. That gets him an eraser to the head, which Danny ignores as he keeps talking, “the ghosties decided that teaching you ghost thingies is officially my job”.
Valerie stares at him, “… but that’s already your job”. Danny shrugs, “eh ghosts like to feel superior”.
Dash throws his hands out, completely derailing the conversation, “what? Are you not going to pink slip Jesse for the eraser?”. Danny smirks at his former bully, “nope. I do have one with your name on it if you’d like though”. Dash scowls at him and Tucker’s laughter is absolutely a bit loud. Which gets James’s attention, him turning to the two, “and what about you two? Why are you here?”. Sam smirks, “living crutches”. Which really should have been the obvious answer to everyone.
Danny beams, “yup! Waaaaay better than some s͟h̴̛it҉t̛y̵̧͜ wood. And yes I got hired by ghosts to do the thing that I already got hired by humans to do, am I changing the lesson plans because of that? Haha f͞u̴͜͟c͏͝k no. Now as for class, we’re gonna talk forbidden knowledge because I am feeling petty”. Which yes, people laugh at.
-
Barely halfway through Charles just kind of barges in, fuck Danny needs to redo his booby traps. Charles looking him up and down, smirking, “oh I so had to see this. Tell me you are starting a cult without telling me you’re starting a cult”. Danny blinks hard at that before bursting out laughing, pointing at him and deadpanning, “yes”.
Emilie beams and sits up straight, “oh we should absolutely all wear cloaks now, Hell yeah”. Amber glares at her, “I’d rather drop out”. Valerie just rolls her eyes at the preppy girl.
Danny looks to the girls, “a couple Christians have already made it their mission to report me daily for satanic indoctrination so that would have some interesting end results”. Charles chuckles, “oh this so is a cult, and if you were a spawn of satan I wouldn’t even be surprised”, then quickly closes the door.
Dale chuckles awkwardly, “I think one thing this class has taught me is that Mr. Trent is way weirder than I thought”. Danny snorts, “oh you have no idea, the things that man has asked me”. He also had a feeling the man tried to break into his house/bedroom once because he got over-excited about some curiosity of his. Shrugging, “back to illegal dealings with guardians and how our mayors a d̶̢i̶͠c̶̨͝k҉͏w͢e̷͟a͏şl̛͘e͘…”.
He doesn’t even get to speak for ten minutes before fucking Vlad bursts in. Danny really needs to re-booby trap that fucking door. Damn. Too bad Vladdie wasn’t in ghost form, then the anti-ghost coating on the door would have at least done something to keep out the rich nutter.
“Daniel, what the Gouda have you gotten yourself involved in now?”.
Danny looks to him slowly, gestures to his class dramatically, “excuse you, frootloop? I mean, timing. But Ancients, chill your tits. Could this not wait twenty f͜͟u̶̕c̸̢͝kin̸g̢̨ minutes? f͞u̴͜͟c͏͝k”. Vlad just glares at him.
Dash leans over to Dale, “the Zone is the mayor doing here?”. Dale just shrugs. Todd snickers meanly, “maybe Danny pissed him off too, because the mayor sure as shit isn’t here to see your shitty ass, Dash”.
“Fuck you”.
“Screw off, Todd”.
Todd just smirks smugly to himself instead of responding to either jock.
Emilie snickers, “maybe he felt Danny talking about him and was summoned”.
Sam smirks to herself, inspects her nails, and deadpans, “it’s cult powers”. Which lots of people actually make ‘ahhh’ and ‘hmmm’ and other understanding agreeing sounds at.
Vlad scowls at the goth, “oh nothing so drab or petty”, actually walking up to Danny and lifting up the cloak, “I am talking of this”. Looking to Danny, “butter biscuits, Daniel”.
Danny snorts, “no I will not butter your biscuits”. Vlad absolutely subtly shoots him with an ecto-beam in his good legs knee. Fucker. Danny rolling his eyes, “the Observants are occasionally tolerable… tolerable-ish. And are occasionally capable of being mildly decent… decent-ish”. Vlad stares at him for a bit before shaking his head, “your desire to be tortured out of existence truly amazes me”, smirking, “if you wanted to suffer you could just fill out a request and I’d be happy to appease you”.
Valerie coughs and actively spits out some water. Dale quirks an eyebrow, “did… did the mayor just threaten to torture Danny?”.
Emilie starts cackling, “yes, yes he did!”.
Danny waves everyone off, “oh please, this is tame and lame”, looking back to Vlad, “I would but only if I could get payment in the form of feeding your internal organs to your cat”. Vlad actually chuckles faintly at that and shakes his head almost fondly. Pulling on his suit jacket to straighten it, “well I guess you’re perfectly well, albeit stupid, but well. I’ll leave you to your… duties”.
“It’s only a duty if I make someone crap their pants”.
Vlad actually stops with his hand on the doorknob at that, looking back, “a poop joke, Daniel? Really?”. Danny just smirks and finger guns while Vlad leaves.
Danny glancing at the clock, “whelp, continuing this class is pointless”, shrugging and looking around at everyone, “I’m honestly amazed this hasn’t already come up yet but me and Vladdie have a very interesting family dynamic”.
Which results in multiple shouted, “FAMILY!?!?!?!?”, comments from everyone.
Valerie rolls her eyes and glances around, “he’s Danny’s godfather”. Danny beams and nods, “yup! And that I’m his chosen heir”.
Dash stares and mutters, “what the fuck”, at that; which, fair. Danny just chuckles meanly at him while the bell rings.
Amber walks up to him through, twirling her hair a little, “so are you, like, rich?”. Danny can absolutely tell people are taking their time to leave class just to hear his response. So Danny smirks, “whole fam is. FentonWorks makes a lot of money. Plus! the government pays us”.
Dale looks almost horrified and Dash is just muttering, “what the fuck”, to himself repeatedly. Amber shaking her head, “well you coulda said something”. Which Danny tolls his eyes at.
Sam doesn’t let him respond though, her snapping, “and what? Have all you people liking and ‘befriending’ him purely because of something so goddamn shallow? As if. Danny -Ancients we are better than that”. Amber, Dash, and Dale all make offended noises; Emilie and Todd can be heard laughing out in the hall. Fuck, Danny’s pretty sure he even hears Hanna loudly cackling out there and she’s not even in his class or even still in school still. Here to hang out with Emilie perhaps? Danny just keeps on smirking as everyone finally leaves and his door clicks shut.
Is he surprised when Vlad suddenly regains visibility next to his desk with crossed arms? Ancients no, fully fucking expected. Even Tuck and Sam are unphased, though they do chuckle to themselves a little while glaring mistrustfully at the man. Danny sighs and looks to the man, “Vlad, I’m fine”, gesturing around at the empty classroom, “all of this just apparently made me qualified to become a Guardian, a Guardian of knowledge”.
Vlad scowls at that.
“And also apparently I’m the ambassador of ghosts now?”.
Now that makes Vlad blink, “and you weren’t already?”.
“That’s what I said!”, waving a hand dismissively at Vlad, “it’s not like you were going to do that”.
Vlad shakes his head, “indeed”, frowning, “but ‘Guardian’? Really, Daniel”. Tucker coughs into his hand, “oooh someone's jealous”. Vlad barely dignifies that with a quick glare.
Danny shrugs, “eh it is what it is”, finger gunning, “but don’t you worry, Vladdie, I’ve still got that claim to the High Throne”.
“Unfortunate”.
Danny laughs, “to you maybe”, summoning out his staff from the ring and holding it lazily behind his neck to rest his head on it, “but for now I do the shitty duty of teaching”. Vlad glares at him for that repeat joke/joke reference. It was pretty crappy, ha ha.
Vlad purses his lips after a second, “well I could lend my expertise in that regard-”.
Danny snorts and cuts him off, “trying to ‘get in the good graces of a Guardian’ will not get you out of the very bad graces of the Observants”.
Vlad rolls his eyes though seems slightly disappointed, “as if my reasons would be so people-pleasing. You know I’m not the type”.
Sam audibly scowls, “oh we know”.
Danny, however, grins meanly, “now you can certainly be a guest speaker just to piss them off”, holding up a finger, “let’s make it about ghost portals and the effect they’ve had between realms”.
Vlad smirks at him, “you are playing with fire, dear boy”. Danny knows the man’s going to make his folks look bad, but honestly? hurting his parents' reputation was impossible and no one would be even slightly surprised. Also yes, he’s aware that basically having the two halfas discuss the very thing that made them halfas was actively asking for it. Sam and Tuck shake their heads in the background while halfa and halfa shake hands.
(Informing Lancer of this resulted in him genuinely questioning if Danny and Vlad were getting along these days, so guess Lancer also noticed his hostility towards the mayor, not that that was hard. Lancer was a bit confused by the fact that the town mayor was into the ecto-sciences though).
---
Apparently Charles, and maybe Danny’s entire class, took the ‘cult’ thing a little too seriously or maybe just had a little too much fun with the idea over the next week because now he’s been called into Lancer’s office to talk about starting a cult. Fuck.
Danny poking his head in and waving awkwardly, “heeeeeeey Lance-y”. Lancer just glares at him and sighs deeply, so Danny goes and takes a seat, “soooooo, I swear I didn’t actually start a cult this time”.
Lancer quirks an eyebrow, “‘this time’?”.
“Eh, it’s happened”. At Lancer’s pained expression Danny adds on, “hey, you knew full well what you were getting into. I keep reminding you of this”.
“And yet you keep one-upping yourself”. Danny finger guns and winks at that. Lancer shakes his head, “regardless, yes I’ve been getting a lot of concerned calls regarding cult behaviour. Though some are clearly just taking any excuse to complain about you specifically”.
“Yeah a lot of adult adults really hate my guts for some reason”.
“I couldn’t imagine why that would be, Daniel”. Lancer shakes his head again before digging in his desk and pulling out some papers, “so now you and I are going to be making up letters addressing this and sending them out to all the parents”.
Danny’s sags back in his chair and groans, “ah come on, man! This is Charles’s fault! Not mine!”.
“I’m sure you encouraged it”.
Danny gives a very petulant and pouty, “…maybe”, perking up a little, “but so did literally everyone else”.
“Students can get away with it, you, as a teacher, can not”.
Danny pouts at him again, “boo. Boo to you”. Which gets him glared at before Lancer hands him letters to work on. This is gonna suck ass. Fuck him.
-
Did writing up letters suck? YES. MAJORLY. But Danny was honestly cackling now seeing as Lancer let him read all the complaint letters. Some claiming he was certainly coding classes with hidden satanic messages of murder to increase the ghost population. Others claiming he was teaching them to torture people; which wasn’t entirely wrong, how to harm a ghost could be also used to torture them or a human technically. And a couple claiming he WAS a ghost, which was just straight-up true. There was two insisting that a priest needs to be present for his classes, which fuck no; he’s already had one too many run-ins with holy-water-rosary-clutching types.
Danny leaning back and chuckling, “people are crazy”.
“Coming from you?”.
Danny points at Lancer, “hey, crazy knows crazy”. Lancer puts his hands up in surrender.
---
Did Danny feel like having a guy who arguably could have actually become a cult leader if he wanted to guest speak the day after the letters went out was actively being spiteful? Yes. Though the fact that this happened on the day that Walker curb stomped his throat also felt spiteful. (Was Danny wearing crust punk pants again today? Absolutely, purely because of the multiple anti-cop patches on it). Danny clearing his throat painfully and using his quill to write on the board, ‘cheese head will be doing the talkie walkie today. Don’t play with portals kids’, and draws an arrow pointing at Vlad before sticking the thing back into his hair.
At least half the class quirks their eyebrows at him so he croaks out, “got throat curb-stomped by the po-po”. Vlad chuckles, “your timing is impeccable”. Danny flips him off while putting a little triangle of paper on the side of his desk reading ‘return books here ditto with the essay thingies on them’. Surprisingly almost all of them were undamaged. Val’s was a little singed and stained, Dash’s had a coffee ring on the cover, and Dale’s looked like it had been burned on a stove element; but Todd’s literally had the pages all torn out of the hardcover, it was obviously intentional.
Vlad eyes the stack for a second before actually addressing everyone, while the class tries not to be weird -or actively tries to murder him with her mind in Valerie’s case- over the mayor freaking Vlad Master, near richest man on the planet, teaching their freaking class. “For those of you that don’t know, which I imagine is all of you, I worked with Daniel’s parents in the ecto-field back in college”. That earns the man a round of coughs and disbelieving staring. Danny just nods to confirm the man’s statement.
Vlad speaks sounding truly pained, “Jack couldn’t make anything that didn’t go horribly wrong if his life depended on it, and that’s how he got me sent to the hospital for seven years with ecto-acne and didn’t even bother to visit”. Danny has to try really hard not to laugh at him. “I will find and force-fed you nails if you say anything, Daniel”. Which honestly just makes it harder not to mock the man relentlessly.
Todd speaks up for him though, “wow sounds like someone’s pissy, bet it was your fault actually”. Vlad glares at him, “coming from a child who’s going to get abducted by a man who wears glasses and a ratty scarf tonight”. Everyone gives Vlad some very confused looks and Danny has to put his head down and wheeze slightly painfully into his desk. This was a good idea. Also a horrible one, but whatever.
Vlad shakes his head, “Jack was the one who decided to power up a prototype ghost portal in my face, I will have you know”. Danny sticks up a finger and mutters, “diet pop in filtrator”. Earning a glance from Vlad, “that fudging imbecile”.
Emilie snickers, “I think the mayor hates Danny’s dad just a little bit”. More than a couple fellow teens nod.
Vlad then goes and erases Danny’s whiteboard writing and draws out an over detailed diagram of a man made protal and a natural one. Danny rolls his eyes at the overkill, but Vlad was nothing if not highly excessive. Who shows up to ‘teach’ in a fucking Armenian suit? Danny’s pretty sure the buttons are solid rubies, like, for Ancients sake.
“Natural or artificial some basic rules, that even the simple-minded can follow, are the same. Don’t create a portal in front of someone’s face. Don’t walk inside of one and then activate it-”. Danny doesn’t so much as move when Vlad smacks the side of his head, ever since Vlad found out that that was how Danny half-died the crazy nutter has given him shit for it at every opportunity. So he saw the head smack coming a mile away.
Dale chuckles, “looks like Danny’s a dumbass”. Dash snickering meanly, “what’s new”. Danny absolutely holds up a pink slip over that. “Oh come on!”, Dash sags in his desk grumpily; you’d think the guy would learn. Vlad’s just smirking faintly before continuing, “don’t walk through randomly. And don’t tie a string to it and another person in an attempt to make the portal follow them”, Vlad smacks Danny over the head again. Danny has a feeling Vlad’s annoyed with him today for some reason. It couldn't possibly be that Danny replaced the water in his water bed with wet cement just before he went to bed two days ago, could it? Never mind, Danny knows that is exactly why. Fuck that was funny.
“Hey, it worked”.
“It really should not have, Daniel”.
“Cloning also shouldn’t work yet here we are”.
Vlad glares at him but continues talking at everyone, “another basic rule is that if the portal is any colour other than green, leave it alone; the town and I will not cover whatever happens if you don’t…”.
Vlad actually manages to get to go on for a while without being actively petty towards Danny or starting a mild bickering match with him. Danny’s honestly a little impressed. Vlad also gets almost overexcited repeatedly, very much proving he’s a scientist at heart while also clearly forgetting he’s talking to teenagers; more than a few things clearly go over everyone’s head. Val still looks like she’s plotting murder though; Danny can admire the tenacity.
But when Danny straightens out a bit from his ghost sense going off Vlad sighs, picks him up by his cloak collar and just walks him to stick out the window, unceremoniously dropping him. Danny screaming, “WHAT THE FU̢C̶͞҉K͟! FU̢C̶͞҉K͟ YOU!”, as he falls and hits the bushes below with a thud. Vlad leaning his head out to reply, “you were going to leave anyways, thought I would simply hurry the whole process up. I do know how lazy and tardy you can be”.
“I WILL PISS IN YOUR FRIDGES FANCY ICE-MAKING COMPARTMENT!”.
Vlad doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning back to the class with a smirk, “so on how to topple the ghost government…”. The class stares at him in shock and amusement at the sudden subject change. Valerie just stares with even more hatred now knowing full well he set her up during the Pariah incident when he gave her that ring. She does throw an ‘are you okay’ text to Danny though, which he responded with ‘I smell like bush’ to.
What’s really sad is that Danny got dropped in a bush from the second story of a building because the Box Ghost was having a lovers quarrel with The Lunch Lady in the park. By the time Danny got there it had descended into a full-blown food fight involving boxed-only foods. More than a few townsfolk had even joined in, and honestly? Danny said fuck it -not out loud ‘cause fuck his throat still hurt- and just joined in the chaos.
Vlad could handle a class of teenagers and if the man tried anything then Val wouldn’t hesitate to outright commit attempted murder.
Did Boxy win the food fight? No, obviously not. The Lunch Lady wasn’t super powerful but she still outclassed The Box Ghost’s ass. Danny finger gunning at the box-themed man who’s currently covered in crackers, “I’d buy her something nice before she decides to fill all your boxes with enough meat to make them rounded”. The Box Ghost looks completely scandalised and insulted, “you don’t think she would”.
“Oh she would, Boxy. She absolutely would”. Considering that women caused a meat tsunami purely because Sam wouldn’t eat meat…
The Box Ghost flies off in a hurry and Danny gets to back to his class with literal armfuls of boxed goods. He also got to discover that Vlad could not handle a class of teens who were now discussing how to overthrow Vlad from the mayoral office to the mains dismay and insult. Vlad looking at him, “your students are demons. Suiting”. Danny just chucked a box of frootloops at him.
(Apparently and according to the Ghost Writer, the Observants went and gave Walker shit for interfering with his Guardian duties. Danny was absolutely tickled green by this news. The Ghost Writer, however, was not happy about Todd’s apparent intentional destruction of a book; Danny doesn’t envy Todd who did, in fact, get abducted that night).
Chapter 6: Feather Quills And ‘Tests’ To Fill
“Danny, you’re overthinking this”.
Danny sighs and leans back in his chair, groaning very loudly at his bedroom ceiling before looking to his sister, who was, as per usual, attempting to be helpful… helpful-ish. “But this is the final, it’s kinda a big fucking deal. And considering how fucking splendidly I usually did on those things, how the FUCK am I writing one up? Plus, like, how do I condense this shit? Do you know how many subjects I wound up covering? Too fucking many!”.
Jazz hums encouragingly at him so he just keeps on ranting, which was probably exactly what she wanted.
Danny gesturing a hand around wildly, “ecto-biology, ecto-linguistics, ecto-medicare, ecto-history slash ecto-culture, ecto-psychology slash ecto-behaviouralism, ecto-literature, ecto-mechanics… Too fucking many”, sighing and sagging, “also pretty sure I just made up, like, all those names”.
Jazz giggles a little, “ecto-Medicare is accurate, though I have a feeling you explained far more than just treating ecto-burns or regular ecto-contamination”. Danny snaps his fingers at her, “well obviously, might as well teach the fuckers how to treat a ghost and not just humans affected by ecto stuff”.
“A roundabout way to achieve self-preservation. Should any of them stumble across an injured Phantom”.
Danny pointing aggressively at her, “hey, none of that”. Jazz just could not chill it with the psychoanalysing. She just grins at him like she’s done nothing wrong. Him sighing again and just staring up at his ceiling, randomly mentally drawing out the constellations his glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars made.
Jazz getting up and ruffling his head jerks him out of his ceiling watching though, “hey!”, him flailing his hands around to shoo her off which, as per usual, just makes her giggle at him fondly; which he absolutely pouts at her over. Her speaking up after a bit, “you know, if you find a proper written test so annoying you could just simply do something more unconventional”, her beaming a bit smugly, “my advanced abnormal psychology prof didn’t even make a final at all”.
Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah but that’s university, they can do that. And as awesome as it is that you got to start break early, they should have kept you”, and smirks while she shoves him one.
“Now that was just mean, Danny”. Shaking her head and going back to sitting on his bed, “but I am serious. Do a final project, or just an essay”.
Danny glares slightly, “essays as finals are the goddamn worst, I would never”; she rolls her eyes at that.
“I prefer them actually”, nodding to herself, “far more room for exploring ideas and showing your prof your personality”.
Danny grumbling, “more like how to really rub it in when someone doesn’t know everything perfectly”. Sighing after a bit, because she did have a point. Tests were fucking bullshit and did a shitty ass job of doing literally anything other than telling how good someone’s short-term memory was. Becoming more opinionated about how schools do schooling is one side-effect of this teacher thing that he so did not see coming. Eh whatever, not like he isn’t right. But what the fuck else can he even do? What could even qualify as ‘finals’ worthy? He sure as shit isn’t doing oral presentations, those things were like a mild form of torture… unless you were a drama kid, which Danny was not. Sure he didn’t have to worry about whatever the fuck being an absolute clusterfuck because a regular-ass test would be a clusterfuck anyway since he basically covered the ghostly version of EVERYTHING, EVERY SUBJECT AVAILABLE IN SCHOOL… except math. Fuck math. What kind of nightmare test jumps from laws of an alternate death dimension to ghostly art? Ghost hunger followed right up by portal safety? Plus, does he even remember everything he taught? Ha ha FUCK NO! What, in any world, would make anyone think otherwise. A ‘project’ would totally help deal with that issue. Grumbling, “how would I even have a project that covers everything?”.
Jazz humming to herself and tapping her chin, “well you could have them go fishing for blob ghosts through a portal?”.
Danny blinks a bit harshly, what the fuck? Looking to her, “Jazz… what the Zone kind of Uni friends have you been making?”. Though he guesses that anything involving blob ghosts would cover a tone of shit. And it’s not like he hasn’t talked a literal fuck ton about blob ghosts. They were like a go-to example/comparison tool.
Jazz shrugs, “my dorm-mate likes to fish dangerous fish”. Danny just blinks, well that sorta? explained it. Sorta.
“What kinda fish”.
“She kept a displayed piranha”.
Danny whistles at that, damn, “guess Amity’s not the only land of crazies”. She laughs a little at that and nods with slightly crinkled eyes.
Danny uses his foot to push himself around in his chair, grumbling incoherently to himself. He did kinda like the idea of dragging blob ghosts into his problems, but taking people portal fishing -snort- was just ridiculous even by his standards. Not that Charles hadn’t ‘gone fishing’ in his desk to get his hands on one; yes Danny’s still a little miffed about that, but hey, at least the man kept his grubby hands out of his desk ever since.
Blinking, wait a fucking minute…
Grinning, Danny stops spinning and loudly slams his hands down on his desk repeatedly, “HA! Pet ghosts!”. Jazz shakes her head good-naturedly, “not sure the school will go for an adopt-a-ghost program as a final”.
Danny points at her and snaps his fingers repeatedly and a bit excitedly, “no no no no no no. Blob ghosts. Catch your own blob ghost. Keeping It ‘alive’ would cover almost everything, catching It would cover most else, and naming It, like, a ghost name in ghost speak could be the whipped cream on top!”.
“Danny, how are you going to get all the parents to even agree to that?”. Glaring at him when he smirks, “without abusing overshadowing”. Danny actively pouts at that. He does have an actual answer though, “oddly most of them take me seriously or respect me some. Weird, I know”, sighing slightly and tilting his head, “Sophia’s still hate my guts though”.
Jazz laughs at him, “so what you’re saying is that they are not going to approve”.
“When does everyone ever approve of the shit I do? Get the majority vote and everyone else can just suck it up”.
“See that is likely part of why they apparently hate you”.
Danny flips her off for that one.
Jazz shaking her head and getting up, “regardless, feel like treating your very proud big sister to dinner?”. Danny rolls his eyes fondly and sighs like this is just so much effort and such a massive hassle while getting up, “fine. But we’re going to the Soup And Ham Can because their coffee’s good”. That earns him an eye roll right back as they head out of his room.
---
Now see Danny wasn't stupid or mean, he damn well looked around town to make sure that a bunch of teens could feasibly capture some blob ghosts… without ghostly superpowers. And yeah he also did the responsible thing of actually doing the proper paperwork which made him feel super old and simultaneously like he was too young to do this kind of shit. He’s eighteen and ‘doing paperwork’? Fuck. It so didn’t help that he accidentally complained about paperwork around Vlad, which turned into the elder halfa complaining about his own paperwork; which both of them got just mildly weirded out by. Vlad still thought of him as a child after all, and Vlad was absolutely an old man in Danny’s eyes. It was fucking weird. Vlad did get a little smug about Danny ‘being like him because there’s no way that fool Jack did any paperwork’, which did cause the entire encounter to turn into a minor fistfight. Regardless of the man being right or not.
At least Danny was stronger than the man these days, and both of them were well aware of that. Which honestly? might be part of why Vlad chilled the fuck out.
Anyway, said paperwork that’s making him feel old is absolutely why he’s getting an early morning Lancer call. Has to be. Unless Danny absentmindedly destroyed something without knowing it… which was always a fair possibility.
“Daniel, I’ll admit this is probably the most interesting request I’ve ever received as a finals alternative and I can’t say I’m particularly surprised that you’d rather forgo a formal written final”.
Danny snickering and leaning against the park's water fountain, “hey you know me, I like to keep things lively in the deadly kinda way”.
“And so long as blob ghosts aren’t capable of being deadly then I don’t see a reason to deny this. But this can not interfere with other classes, as in, they can not bring ‘awesome pet ghosties’ to their other classes”.
Danny snorts at that, yeah no fucking shit, “well duh, Lance. That would be asking for trouble especially with Charles”.
Lancer audibly sighs, nearly groans actually, on the other end, “now I don’t doubt that. And because I don't want any possibly ecto-contaminated paper from FentonWorks making its way into the students' homes, I already sent out the permission slips”.
Danny blinks, well damn, appreciated he guesses? Blinking again, “huh, well ah, thanks, Lance, I guess. I’m taking it that you just mailed them out though and that I still have to actually tell my own class of fellow teens that they have mandatory pets now?”. That gets a chuckle out of the man.
“You requested this, Daniel, now you have to deal with it. Though somehow I think you’ll be getting ‘thank you’s rather than annoyed groaning and complaining”.
Danny chuckles, “hey if you want everyone to like you more you shouldn’t assign so much work”.
“I’d be doing you teens a disservice”.
Danny rolls his eyes at that one, the man was dedicated he’ll give him that much. “Not ‘fully grasping literary genius’ isn’t really gonna affect anyone negatively, Lance. I’d definitely rather sleep than brush up on your beloved Shakespeare”.
“It’s good for the mind”.
“So’s sleep”, snorting, “and I missed enough of that as it is”.
“Now that I can agree and attest to, considering your class habits. I’ll let you go”.
Danny blinks at his phone, well that was abrupt. Fucking rude. Eh, it’s not like Danny didn’t fuck off randomly all the time. Oh well. Sighing and pushing off of the fountain, “whelp, guess I know what I’m stuck doing tomorrow… or the day after tomorrow? Fuck, what day even is it?”.
Hint: it was Friday. And Danny, like a dumbass, forgot to even attempt to show up for class.
“Ah well. Fuck”.
It probably says a lot that Lancer didn’t even bother cussing him out for that. Should he feel ashamed? embarrassed? at least a little guilty? Probably. Does he? Honestly, no. He stopped feeling guilty about that kind of shit a long ass time ago. Being a little half-dead hero that has to tap out constantly and lie all the time kinda does that to you after a hot minute or two. Which probably wasn’t exactly healthy. But also, it’s not like ‘healthy’ was really a thing he was familiar with these days. Eh, whatever.
Anyway, time for a night fly/patrol.
---
So now it was Monday and Danny officially has to ‘face the music’ or whatever the fuck.
To bad Technus got fancy with the house's microwave and basically destroyed half of Danny’s bedroom. Meaning he couldn’t even look good… good-ish. He absolutely gets some smug pride from the fact that him going to his ‘professional job’ in tattered clothes would piss Vlad off something fierce though. Actually deciding to stick with wearing a pair of pants with one leg torn off so badly that his boxers were able to be seen probably wasn’t the world's smartest idea. At least his shitty Antichrist button-up t-shirt was intact! … More or less anyways. (It was missing a pocket and maybe the bottom wasn’t quite the same shape it once was but he’s not too sure about that bit). The cloaks perfectly fine of course, being ghostly clothing and all.
Pushing the classroom door open with his foot, “alright little ectoplasm knowledge nuggets, we actually have some housekeeping s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧ to see to so…”.
Val doesn’t even let him actually get to the whiteboard, “so what was up with Friday?”.
Emilie leans back in her seat, “yeah, the only class that’s actually neat is also the one class with a tardy teach”.
Danny points at her, “hey, I resent that statement of truth”, finishing his walk to the board and smacking it, “honestly? I forgot”. Val just stares at him so he winks at her, earning him a scowl and a thrown pencil; which he lets just bounce off his head. Pulling out his quill and striking it all the way down the board, the words ‘FINAL ASSIGNMENT’ magically forming.
Jesse shakes his head, “I still don’t understand that stupid quill”.
Brittney scoffing, “whatever, it’s not like he’ll give us one”. Danny snorts over his shoulder at that, “yeah, no s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧”. Turning around dramatically enough to make the cloak fan out, “what’s also no s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧ is that finals are a thing and that I also -like any sane teen- hate written exam s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧, so we’re not doing that”.
To no ones surprise that announcement results in some smiles, some cheers, one or two fist pumps/high fives, and multiple relieved sighs.
Val chuckles and leans her chin on a palm, “yeah I was wondering how you were going to write some test that covered everything”. Danny absolutely chuckles and nods at that.
Plopping down onto the side of his desk, “so hear me out, since I’m obviously not writing some written thingamajig out and I’m not nearly enough of a sadist to make oral presentations a thing that’s happening”, clapping his hands together cheerily, “so instead y’all are gonna be ghost hunters for a bit”, shrugging, “or for however long it takes you to catch a blob ghost in our town”, tilting his head and tapping his chin, “which honestly shouldn’t take that long all things considered”.
The class just blinks at him for a bit before most burst out laughing.
Emilie wheezes a little, “you are one quirky fucker”. Valerie shaking her head, “here I thought you were about to ask us to catch a proper ghost”, smirking, “which I’m down for”.
Danny rolls his eyes, “as fun as it would be to torment Boxy by making fifteen odd teens repeatedly catch him, I doubt that would accomplish much”.
Todd puts his hands behind his head, “we can totally still do that”. Dale laughing, “HA! Yeah! That could be fun!”, and elbows Dash a couple of times which turns into a mild dude-bro shoving match. Todd snickers meanly at that before looking back at Danny, “and what’s up with the lame-ass underwear? Becoming a bad stripper or something”.
Danny rolls his eyes at the jab, “Technus got a little friendly with a microwave”.
“They’re green”. Apparently, Todd doesn’t give a flaming fuck about the ‘why’, just the colour. Figures.
Valerie rolls her eyes at the fake ass ‘bad boy’, “Danny’s a joke, of course they’re ecto-green”. Danny nodding and rolling his hand about in the air, “and besides, sleeping in phase-proof underwear is a pretty solid idea, all things considered”. That earns some understanding cringing from the class. Danny sticking up a finger, “just like having you lot bring me some captured but not destroyed-”, giving Val a meaningful look, “-spookies makes perfect sense for an ecto-ology final!”.
A couple of people shrug, Ashley muttering, “oh what the Hell”, toying with her fingers a little, “but does it have to be a big one?”.
Danny waves her off, “naw, so long as it’s in the blob family I don’t care”.
James sighs, leaning on a palm, “but why can’t we just do something normal? An essay?”.
Danny puts a hand to his chest in mock offence, “why I never! I just said I’m not a sadist”, waving a hand around, “and because, I am the true multimedia teacher of spooky academia, just handing out knowledge like a new kind of haemophilia. So I am creating g̵͡o͝d̶͡d͠҉am̛n͘҉ new educational finals criteria. Just don’t go getting into necrophilia on me”, and winks as everyone else groans.
Dustan muttering, “so much for not being a sadist”. Sophia sticks up a hand.
“Yes?”.
She plays with her fingers a little, “well, um, what about our parents?”.
James jumps in, “hey yeah, are we just supposed to keep a ghost in our rooms till finals week?”.
Dash scoffs, “aww is some scared of a little blob ghost”. James just rolls his eyes at that.
Danny shrugs, “eh Lance already sent out permission stuff so parent stuff’s already covered. And naw, catch one by…”, humming to himself, “… oh let’s say next Monday. Bring me proof”, holding up a finger, “but also don’t let the little bugger go. Because if you think all I’m asking is ghost capture then ho boy you’re wrong”. Let them make of that what they want. More than a few look slightly disturbed and he absolutely hears Ashley mutter something about dissection. Danny’s pretty sure Lancer wouldn’t let him get away with that. The blender stunt had been pushing it already, apparently there was a such thing as detention for teachers. Shudder.
Jesse glares at Danny then Valerie, “you better not be marking this on time because some of us have unfair advantages”.
Dash jumps in, “yeah! Little miss anti-ghost psycho probably fantasises about this!”.
Todd rolling his eyes, “as if you need to worry about that, you’d piss yourself before catching one anyway”.
“FUCK YOU!”.
Danny chuckles, his class was probably the only one where anyone could shout ‘FUCK YOU’ and not get in shit. Though Dash being ‘star football star McGee’ probably wouldn’t get in trouble for it in any class. Tch. “Now now, just g̵͡o͝d̶͡d͠҉am̛n͘҉ catch one”, shrugging, “don’t care how or when or colour or whatever the f̵̛u̕͞c̴̶̡k̶̨͠. Ancients, go climb a crane and fish one out of the bucket for all I care. But if you die, don’t haunt me”.
Val sighs, giving him an exasperated look, “great, now someone’s going to do exactly that”. Emilie laughing, “I call dibs!”. Making Val thump her head on her desk. Danny does at least give her an apologetic shrug, hey not his fault that people like to take him up on his bullshit to fuck around and find out.
(Did someone actually take him up on the crane idea? According to the news, yes, yes someone did. Danny’s personal bets are not on Emilie even if she did ‘dibs it’, it was probably one of the quiet kids honestly. At least they were smart enough to wear a disguise. So long as Lancer doesn’t find out…).
---
Danny groans face down in his bed, Lancer was in his bedroom. WHY?!?!?!? Well okay, he knew exactly why. Lancer specifically asked for Danny’s makeshift final to not interfere with other classes and what happened? Well apparently a blob ghost ate the cord to the old school projector that Joshep loved so much. BECAUSE OF COURSE THAT HAPPENED! Danny had some truly shit luck. Groaning again, “I didn’t ask them to randomly bring them to school!”, mumbling, “at least not until next week”. What dumbass caused his problem? Probably Todd honestly. Dash might want to shit kick him but the jock was not nearly petty/sneaky enough to ‘get Fenturd’ in this kind of roundabout way. Todd, however, was the definition of petty. Though Danny was a lot more petty; but he’s a ghost! He’s allowed to be!
Lancer sighs faintly, “you’re still the reason ultimately. Even if Joshep has little room to talk, considering how his class law experiment went”.
“You’re talking about the one that was a recreation of that prison psychology excitement thing? Because yeah, that was bad even by my standards and my experience with jailers involved a lot more tasers”.
“… Daniel, I explicitly remember you tasing people at that time even though you weren’t even in his class”. Danny can practically hear his technical boss shaking his head, “that doesn’t change that you owe Joshep a new projector, and I am not putting it on the FentonWorks tab”. Danny groans very loudly over that. Fuck.
Danny rolling over in his bed and just staring at the ceiling, “forcing me to spend the paycheck you give me on stuff for the school, smarmy shit”.
“That word doesn’t mean what I think you believe it does”.
Danny shrugs, “eh. And besides, Lance”, turning his head to actually look at the man, who quirks an eyebrow before Danny continues, “lords of knowledge, or whatever, should be allowed to ban finals because reasons”, putting a hand very egotistically to his own chest and trying to bleed ego, “a lord like me specifically”.
Lancer chuckles and shakes his head slowly, “I’m sure you would ban them if Id let you”.
“Oh yeah, no shit. In a frickin’ heartbeat-”.
Both of them pause and glance at the floor when a very loud explosion sounds and actually makes the floor shake a little. Not for the first time Danny’s glad he’s nailed/screwed down a large majority of the shit in his room. He even got those weird suction drinking cups that even he, with his ghostly strength, couldn’t slap over.
Barely seconds later his mom pushes open his door, smiling quickly at Lancer, “sweetie, Mr. Lancer, you may what to head outside”, rolling her eyes a bit fondly, “Jack, the dear, might have blown up the photon carbon ecto-endaton”.
Danny blinks, “you mean that new bomb thing? You guys actually blew up something that was supposed to blow up?”. His mom actually has the fucking balls to nod sheepishly. Lancer, however, is sweating unpleasantly.
They absolutely head outside.
Danny patting Lancer on the shoulder while they stand from the sidewalk watching smoke pour out the door/windows, “I’m guessing this’ll be the last time you make an unexpected house visit?”.
“… your home life worries still… this has not helped”.
“‘Life’! HA! Good one!… so will you not dying today count as payment enough?”.
“No, Daniel. Just no”.
“Damn. Was getting my hopes up for a second”.
Lancer glares at Danny a little before heading home; Danny cackles to himself a little. He may be paying for Joshep’s stupid projector love out of his own pocket, but at least he got to make someone -Lancer- regret their life choices in the process. His ghost sense going off tells him that he’s also going to get someone to regret their death choices. Nice. Two for one coupon.
---
Thankfully there were no other blob ghost-related incidences, that Danny heard about, before Monday.
“So did everyone catch a blob ghost?”. That question gets Danny a pretty solid round of ‘yes’s and people holding up blobs in jars or just waving around their phones to show pictures of their particular blob. Danny nodding to himself, “good good”, sounding ominous, “now your final can begin”.
Earning lots of concerned staring and worried glances at the present blob ghosts. Which makes sense, ominous-ness deserves at least some worry. Especially considering the things that usually followed Danny specifically being ominous.
Danny, content with his mild terrorising, actually explains himself while staring down his class like he’s some kind of government agency boss, “your assignment is thus, you will keep that blob ghost ‘alive’ until the twentieth. One full month. And you bet your knickers I’m gonna be tagging your suckers so I will know if you f̵̛u̕͞c̴̶̡k̶̨͠ it up and try to replace them”, glaring at the class comically, “you can keep it trucking however you see fit, use that knowledge! Bring It to hang around Cored ghost! Give It ecto food! Ecto-water! Use your imagination”, chuckling, “just don’t try creating a ghost portal to throw It in the Zone. That’s a real good way to die”.
Jasper grumbles, “yeah the freaking mayor was pretty clear about that”.
Amber purses her bubblegum pink lips, “and how do you plan to ‘tag them’? Half of us didn’t even bring ours!”, and huffs to herself. Danny smirks almost meanly and flops backwards in his chair to spin around more lazily in it, “I’m a teacher not a cop, meaning I don’t have any jobly standards against breaking and entering”.
Emilie snorts and starts snickering while Dash half shouts, “there’s no way a twerp like you has the guts!”. Dale shrugging, “well his freak folks do bust down walls all the time”.
“Still! Fenton’s a wimp!”, Dash grumbling to himself a little, “even if he’s manned up a little”, grumbling even quieter to himself, “… and some of the wimpiness was faked”.
Danny rolls his eyes, toying with yet another pink slip, “pinky pinky someone should keep their lips zippy zippy”. Earning death glares from Dash. Danny chuckling, “anyway, considering my lack of giving a s̛hi̸t̡ about school rules and whatnot you'd think me also lacking in the s̛hi̸t̡ giving department towards general laws would be some kind of a given”, shrugging, “eh whatever. I’ll tag your suckers and I’ll tag ‘em just right”, and smirks, turning back to face the whiteboard.
Valerie rolls her eyes and coughs a little, “well that wasn’t creepy at all, Danny”. Which really only makes Danny smirk more as he shoves himself out of his chair before going about writing up what in all this ‘final assignment’ even involved with his funky little quill. And while everyone goes about reading that shit he’ll walk around and ‘mark’ all the little blob ghosts, which sit all pretty and proper for him; being that he’s the strong ghosty here and being that they all ‘live’ in his wonderful little lair.
Brittney scowls at her blob, “why does It listen to you? Every time I touch It, It tries to bite me”, her attempting to pet It and getting almost bit in response feels like emphasis, and more than a few people nod at that. Danny just chuckles meanly, “because they fear me”, and moves on without explaining that at all.
Dash scowls and grumbles down at his desk, “as if anything fears him”. Which really just makes Danny smirk. Oh how wrong that was, in more ways than one. Which he wasn’t exactly always happy about. Danny did like certain fear, he was a ghost after all, and he definitely liked it if it was The Observants or Boxy’s fear. Just not genuine fear from the general population of humanity, Amity, the Zone, etcetera.
Danny popping back over to the board, “ookily dookily, now that that’s done and over with”, glancing at the class meanly, “I will get the rest of you later”, then back to the board, “now for actual class class s̛hi̸t̡. Which yeah sure fine, this has nothing to do with the final so technically you could just ignore my a̡̡s͢͞s̸ or f̢̡u͞c҉k͡ off entirely if you think you can sneak out for a half hour-ish without getting caught. But hey! My s̛hi̸t̡ might be useful s̛hi̸t̡”, shrugging, “or at least interesting. Unlike most stupid classes”. That gets him some snickers and laughs. Success. He’s also not surprised no one takes him up on the ‘fucking off and leaving’ option; most people took this class because they actually wanted to hear some nut job yammer on about ghosts… or at this point they just wanted to bear witness to whatever shit might happen to or be done by Danny. Perfectly understandable.
---
“You did what?”.
Danny shoves another mouthful of the noodle dish in his mouth before looking up to his mom, “uhhhh, it seemed like a better idea than some useless info dump regurgitation required test”. Okay so maybe it was stupid of him to think that his folks, oblivious as they often are, would just… not notice? people running around after blob ghosts.
She gives him a worried look, “but Danny, they’re still ghosts. Still dangerous”. Danny makes a point not to roll his eyes. Sure her genuine worry was ludicrously misplaced and steeped in ectophobia but it was still genuine… and while Danny is indeed a little shit, he’s not an utter dick.
He does still wave her off though, “i’s’ine”, swallowing his food, “it’s not like they haven’t spent an entire semester learning about this shit. Ghost shit”. She frowns at him, “still”.
His dad waves her off goofily, “oh I'm sure the kids have some idea what they’re doing, Mads!”, laughing loudly, “especially with Danno over here!”, and smacks Danny one on the back hard enough to make him cough. Danny appreciates the confidence but does he really have to get mildly assaulted at the same time? Not that he really minded but still.
Danny sticking up a finger, “and besides, Lance did approve it soooooooo…”, and waves his hand around limply. He’s honestly a little amazed by that fact still. Either Lancer trusted him a wee bit too much or didn’t want to see what else he might request if denied. It worked out mighty fine if you ask Danny. So far everyone seemed to be doing fine, sure Val had called and asked if she’d lose marks if she ‘used It as a pin cushion’; Danny said ‘yes’, of course… she was definitely disappointed. And both Dash and Dale were trying to teach theirs to fetch footballs. He might have to go give Todd a talking to about trying to turn his into some kind of feudal warlord over the other ‘wild’ blobs though.
She sighs and picks at her food a little, “it’s not that I don’t trust Danny”, actually looking at Danny, “but couldn’t you have just had them catch and release or even track Phantom down and hand them off to him?”. Danny sighs a little, “but that would have hardly covered anything. How’s that supposed to test their understanding of low-level behaviouralism or stuff like ghost hunger”. She actually blinks at him, sounding slightly confused, “ghost… hunger…”.
Ah
Shit
Right
Sometimes he forgets he actually knows -and teaches- shit his folks don’t actually know. Which is weird all alone. But hey, ectophobes don’t deserve to know. So Danny just shrugs and elects not to even attempt to explain himself. They’re -or at least his mom, based on his dad going back to chowing down food- are probably just slightly worried about what he’s teaching his fellow teens.
His mom, of course, presses the issue, “…Danny…”. Which Danny takes as the perfect time to get up and head towards the door, “whelp, guess I should go and stop someone from establishing tyrannical blobby rule”, waving his folks off as he actually heads out said door, “Todd’s kinda a dick… and moron”. He doesn’t miss his mom frowning or her muttering, “maybe this job wasn’t the best idea… and is he implying someone’s trying to teach leadership to a blob?”. His dad laughing a little, “yeah so weird! Those things can’t even be trained not to bite! HA!”.
Danny rolling his eyes as he looks up at the sky, “oh they’re easily trainable”, and chuckling to himself a little.
-
It’s a simple ten-minute flight before he’s got himself perched on his ankles on Todd’s bedroom windowsill. Apparently the guy keeps his bed right next to the window… which is street-facing. Fuck that’s stupid and reckless. How has he never gotten rudely awakened by Phantom him or some other ghost getting throw into/threw this wall. Fucking Ancients, mild death wish much. But hey, it gives Danny the opportunity to be a creepy little bastard gremlin. Aka, Danny absolutely leans ominously down over Todd before speaking, “looks like sleeping beauty’s been naughty”. Todd, like Danny wanted, gets jolted awake, yelps, shuffles backwards, smacks his head on his headboard, and just stares at Danny in shock. Danny snickers meanly, “trying to establish tyrannical rule, tsk tsk tsk, can’t have that now can we”.
Todd gulps and musters up some -clearly fake- bravado, “what the Hell man”.
“Not from Hell but I’m sure Satan would be touched that you think I’m his handy work. Real compliment right there”.
Danny hops off the windowsill, over Todd/his bed, and lands in the guy's room; cloak fluttering in the air faintly all the while, he was technically doing his job right now after all. “So as I was saying, trying to make a merciless authoritative ruler out of your blobby is not part of the final and is honestly quite objectionable”.
“You broke into my room”.
“And you sleep right next to a street-facing window, so clearly I’m not the one making stupid life decisions here, buddy”, turning around and smirking at his fellow teen, “you’re practically begging for a break and enter, be glad it’s just your quirky teacher taking you up on that offer”. Granted he was also basically the most powerful ghost around town, but hey right now he was just teacher. Shrugging, “granted breaking in here isn’t apparently all that entertaining, considering all you’ve done so far is wake up and stare at me from your bed like a brain-dead monkey”.
Todd jerks and glares at him, “aww am I boring you. Get out of my room”.
Danny shrugs again, “ah naw, I’m good right where I am”. Snapping his fingers and sending out a bit of his energy to call over the little blob ghost that Todd’s SUPPOSED TO JUST BE TAKING CARE OF BUT IS INSTEAD GROOMING INTO A WAR MONGER. The blob ghost of course listens and immediately zips over and rolls around under Danny’s raised palm. Danny turns his attention to the little guy, speaking like one does to a small child or kitten who’s being misled by a miscreant, “now you listen here little one, don’t let this jackass fill your head with silly little thoughts of blob world domination”, staring at It meaningfully, “Phantom’s the more peace-seeking type”. The blob actually shudders slightly over the prospect of being rejected by Phantom.
Todd screws up his face and mutters disbelievingly when the blob turns to him and hisses. Danny smirking at the teen, “have fun taking care of them now”, and throws a very cheeky peace sign before strutting smugly over to the window and dropping out it down to the sidewalk.
Danny’s not even slightly surprised to get a bunch of empty energy cans thrown out the window at him along with a very loud, “FUCK YOU”… and a slightly shrieked, “YOU BIT ME!”. Hahahahaha have fun with that Todd, serves him right.
---
Todd had glared at him angrily and was more of a nuisance than usual for multiple days, not that Danny gave a shit. He also ‘reported’ Danny as a ‘peeping Tom’ to Lancer which did result in a ‘conversation’ with the man but Danny’s counter of outing Todd as attempting to turn the general blob community in harbingers of war -which fine was a major exaggeration but whatever- resulted in Lancer sighing exhaustedly and basically throwing out the report. One of these days Danny’s going to run out of ways to make Lancer slightly regret ever offering him a job but that day has yet to come.
Danny smacks a hand on the whiteboard a couple of times, “alrighty alrighty alrighty, test results time!”, turning around and smirking at the class, “you get that s̛h͜i̕͟t͠ now since no one has to waste time grading a bunch of stupid paper scanner thingies and then rechecking them for fu̕͝c͟k̛͜ ̧u͝p̸̨s”, and smacks the board again. Though pausing at the cracking sound and snapping his head around to the board. There’s a decent-sized crack/dent in it, making Danny grin like an idiot, throw his hands up, and cheer, “YES! FINALLY!”. He has cracked the board! It has happened! Turning back to the class, actually tearing up a little and wiping his eyes, “I’m truly overjoyed. Blessed really”.
James blinking and muttering, “is he crying?”. Dash snorting, “ha loser”. Val actually turning around to the jock while Danny holds up a pink slip, “do you never learn?”.
“I’m collecting them at this point”.
Val blinks at that, “now you sound like Danny”. Dash looks genuinely offended and like he’s seconds away from starting a brawl right then and there, “you take that back!”.
“Make me!”.
Danny just laughs and waves a hand dismissively, “now now children, no fighting”. Earning him eye-rolls and scowls, Val laughs though so it’s a win in his books. Summoning out his staff and pointing it rather aggressively at the class, only Ashley jumps so clearly they’ve gotten too used to his shit by now, “now present to me your blob pets for grading!”.
Everyone dutifully pulls out their jarred blob ghosts and places them on their desks. Maple sticking up a hand, “do we have to release them or?”.
Danny chuckles, “you can keep ‘em if you wanna, wouldn’t exactly recommend it but hey Charles’s -that he so rudely stole from me- is doing cool so”, shrugging, making his staffs bell jingle. Danny pushing his energy into his staff making the feathers multiply and extend out to ‘assess’ the blobs. It was fucking weird that his staff could basically do anything so long as it had to do with his ‘role’ as Wisdom Guardian.
Jesse shakes his head at his blob attempting to nibble the feathers, “I’m just going to pretend this makes sense. This class is almost weirder than the ghosts are”. Danny simply smirks at that.
Danny nodding to himself after a bit, feathers retracting, gesturing the staff over the board making the results magically appear. Danny nodding smugly at his handy work/his students' results, fists on his hips, “Ancients the G.I.W. would hate me so much”.
“You say that as if you don’t already”.
Danny ignores that, turning around grinning and gesturing grandly at the board, “behold! Crack or no, your results!”. Walking to his desk and flopping down into his chair, “of course no one failed”, leaning back and feigning being utterly desolate, “oh how disgraceful that would be. To think my pupils would even consider bringing such shame upon me, after everything I have bestowed upon them”.
Val gets up and slams a cup of coffee on his desk, “will you stop being overdramatic now?”. Danny snagging it up eagerly, “oh why thank you”, gesturing dramatically, “my beloved emergency caffeine maid, how I thank yo-”, Val promptly cuts him off by punching his head into his desk.
“Call me ‘Maid’ again and I’ll make you a ghost”.
Danny just grumbles incoherently into his desk while the class goes about looking at the results.
“Oh Hell yeah! Guess who’s average is going up!”.
“Honestly I thought I did worse. Wow”.
“The bastard seriously docked me marks. Jerk”.
“You deserved it, Todd”.
“I’m honestly actually kinda proud of this. Doesn’t feel as meaningless as tests usually do”.
“High five bro!”.
“Heck yeah bro!”.
“That’s enough ‘bro’ing. Fuck”.
“Shove it, pipsqueak”.
“Is it sad that I care more about this result than my math results?”.
“Now if only uni gave a shit about this class…”.
Danny lifts his head up off his desk and rests his chin in a palm, “good for all of you”, sipping his coffee, “granted I’d got all happy go lucky if I ever got decent grades”. Val actually gives him a slightly sympathetic look at that, even if she says, “well maybe if you didn’t skip constantly”. Danny just takes another sip of his drink before standing up, “so who wants to do a blob release party in the field? Like releasing balloons into the sky”.
Maple practically skips back to her desk and actually hugs the jar her blobs in, “not mine”. Danny waves her off, “that’s perfectly fine”, standing up, swinging the staff behind his head to rest on his neck/shoulder. Wandering over to the window and just falling out of it, “see you out there!”.
James blinks, “we’re… not following him, are we”.
Valerie shrugs, “yup”, and basically jumps out of it.
“There’s a lot wrong with the two of them”.
“That’s nothing new”.
“I’m taking the stairs, this is ridiculous”.
“Well it is Danny for you”.
“I love this class”.
-
Danny just grins at everyone with their jars, nodding at them all before pointing his staff up at the sky for no real reason other than dramatics, more than a few classrooms have teens staring out at them while everyone -well almost everyone anyway, a small handful opting out- opening their jars and letting out the random blobs.
Some of the blobs just start zipping around or floating off, a couple nuzzle their particular caretakers, one or two just straight up stay and take naps on the grass. It was all kinda cute actually.
Amber crouching down on her ankles petting one of the grass sleeping blobs, “yeah I guess we kind of put you guys through the wringer, huh”. Danny chuckling, “oh yeah, for the most part, blobs do perfectly well living on their own in the wild-”.
Half the class basically speaks in unison and in time with him, “so long as there’s enough ectoplasm around”, followed by, “we know”.
Danny pouts at everyone, “well at least y’all remembered”. He has been successful at this teaching thing. Hurray. Good for him. Guess for now he’ll just enjoy the view of the healthy blob ghosts running around. Todd’s is apparently still somewhat ticked at him, taking the time to naw on his pants before fucking off. Hopefully, that one doesn’t cause problems in the future.
---
“So how was it? I saw that everyone passed”.
“Surprisingly enjoyable”.
“Really now”.
Sigh. “Fine I’ll admit it, you were right about this being a good option for me”.
“Good. So you’re up for doing this again next semester I take it”.
“At this point? No shit. Though I think my folks are going to interrogate me about my ‘usual’ and ‘forbidden’ and ‘impossible’ and ‘can’t possibly be true’ knowledge at this point, all things considered”.
Slight chuckle. “Good, it might do them some good. Their bigotry only seems to grow more concerning”.
“Heh, nice to hear it called bigotry honestly”.
“You’d be the one to say that”.
“Yeah, I guess so”.
“You know you’ve got one more thing to do now though”.
“Oh yeah? What?”.
“Get Christmas gifts from your students”.
“FUCK”.
“We also have a staff holiday party”.
“…oh I hate you so much”.
Chapter 7: Probably Utterly Unnecessary Overly Wordy Self-Imposed And Unintentional Obligatory Closing Chapter (But Christmas-Themed) Because I Knee-Jerk Hate Christmas And Will Take Any Given Opportunity To Take A Piss On The Season So In The Words Of Danny Fenton ‘Dude, I Am *Sick* Of Christmas!’… ‘I Know! (Puts Down Walker’s Arm And Grabs The Orange) How ‘Bout *This*!’
🎵All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth🎵
🎵My two front teeth🎵
🎵See my two front teeth🎵
🎵Gee, if I could only have my two front teeth🎵
🎵Then I could wish you, "Merry Christmas"🎵
…
….
…..
🎵What a bright time, it’s the right time🎵
🎵To rock the night away🎵
🎵Jingle bell time is a swell time🎵
🎵To go gliding in a one-horse sleigh 🎵
Danny’s grumbling almost aggressively and marching to class looking like he actively wanted to murder someone… slowly and violently. Repeatedly. Scowling up at the ceiling, nearly snarling at the speakers, “swell time my ass”, before basically kicking in his classroom door. Was he wearing an anti-Christmas sweater? Yes. Only because apparently teachers were ‘highly encouraged’ to show ‘holiday spirit’ with their clothing. Fuck Christmas. Fuck Christmas cheer. Goddamnit. His shirt said ‘sleigher’ -because Danny will pun regardless of how shitty or not his mood may be. And currently, it was quite shitty indeed- with a murdered reindeer. A graphically murdered reindeer. He’s pretty sure no teacher has tried to dress code him because of the fear of throat punching based off his facial expression.
Anyway…. door kicking. Ancients he wishes the stupid thing wasn’t built fucking solid o that his goddamn foot would have just smashed a nice little hole in the bottom. But hey, at least the door bangs against the wall hard enough to shake and bounce back enough that he has to kick it again to get it out of his way. And fine maybe he has to do that repeatedly. And sure maybe he just gets more violent about it. And okay he absolutely broke one of the hinges. Whatever. Fuck that door.
Valerie just sighs and shakes her head, well aware of Danny’s hatred for Christmas and well used to him turning into an angry chihuahua this time of year. Dash also rolls his eyes, even if he’s slightly intimidated. The rest of the class just looks on concerned as Danny walks over to the whiteboard, him smacking it hard enough to make the cracking spread, “alright so the next fucker who asks if I’m going to decorate this room will get stabbed and I will use your blood as the decoration to make this place look like Satan’s personal spa retreat, including something demonic-looking getting summoned into the corner to stare at you all menacingly”, glaring at a couple of people in particular, “and the next person to give me a bag of feathers as a present is spending the holidays with Boxy in a warehouse. Got it. Good. Anyways, since we don’t need no stinking stupid-ass review periods because we’re already done with that shit, what the fuck do ya wanna talk about and preferably loud enough to block out the crappy Christmas music”.
Todd blinks, “what crawled up your ass and died”. Danny snapping at him immediately, “my will to live in this god-forsaken time of year”.
🎵Who doesn’t love to sing We Wish You A Merry Christmas?🎵
Danny’s rye twitches, him half shouting towards the ajar door, “I fucking don’t!”.
🎵Good tidings we bring🎵
🎵To you and your kin🎵
🎵Good tidings for Christmas🎵
“Take those ‘tidings’ and shove them up your ass!”.
🎵And a happy New Year!🎵
Scowling and looking at the class, “y’all better start talking or I’m going to get in trouble for vandalism and destruction of school property”. Now that gets the class chuckling at him a little, making him roll his eyes somewhat fondly.
James shakes his head, “so I take it you don’t exactly like Christmas”. Valerie turning to him, “understatement. Danny hates Christmas more than the Box Ghost hates circles”.
“Well damn, that’s actually impressive”.
Danny sighs and glares at the ceiling, “and I actually hate it less than I used to”. That gets him some disbelieving staring. Whatever. Yes his hatred might be excessive but he’s a ghost goddamnit, excess is the name of the game; fuck off.
Amber purses her lips, “soooo… you don’t want presents then. Or any more anyway”. Danny sighs, “it’s fine. But make them Christmas-themed at your own peril”. The class absolutely laughs at him, not that he gives a shit. So long as no one gives him Christmas socks they can laugh all they want.
(Does basically everyone eventually give him something? Yes. Was it mostly ghost-themed/related? Also yes. Did at least one person be a complete jackass and give him something Christmas-themed? Definitely; but no one else did after he dumped ectoplasm-infused eggnog on that particular teen's head)
“Ignoring Danny’s hate boner, I vote we talk about Phantom”.
Dash grinning, “well duh!”.
Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, “I swear this town has a mass obsession or something”, shrugging, “eh what the heck why not”. Val rolls her eyes which makes him smirk, even if his mood’s still shit. He pretty much just lets everyone chat amongst themselves; him flopping down in his chair and pretty much zoning out.
By the time class is coming to an end Danny’s got his feet up on the whiteboard ledge, Danny glancing at the clock, “whelp this has been fun”, lifting his feet off and spinning his chair around to face everyone, “guess this whole teaching thing was, like, an actually good idea. Dealing with you people wasn't terribly horrible”. He’s amazed the whole Phantom thing never got caught.
“Yeah fuck you too, teach”.
Danny grins and finger guns. Emilie getting up and tilting the door to get it open graces his ears with more fucking Christmas music though.
🎵Let’s sing Merry Christmas and a happy holiday🎵
🎵This season may we never forget the love we have for *bell sounds*🎵
Danny snags his quill and flicks it at the speakers, shorting it out and making it smoke worryingly. Then blinking, “wait did they censor ‘jesus’? Haha nice”, smirking a little, that was probably Sam’s handiwork. Whelp anything that defaces a Christmas song is a plus in his book. Val shakes her head at him, “you going to wreck the other door hinge?”. Danny just gives her a thumbs up, gets up, and kicks the bottom hinge hard enough to bust it apart; the door falling with a thump to the ground. Danny nods, satisfied, to himself with crossed arms. Val rolls her eyes at him and gives him a friendly shove on the shoulder. Normally that would boost his mood entirely but his ghostly ears means he’s still able to hear the stupid fucking music from the other intact speakers.
Fuck this time of year.
(Though fine some of the presents he wound up getting were actually pretty neat. The ectoplasm lava lamp even impressed his folks, even if they were none too pleased about the ‘team ghost’ flag).
---
By the time the staff holiday party rolled around Danny had warned Lancer that if there was Christmas music playing the whole time or -Ancients help him- carollers, then he was going to invite Technus. Needless to say, said party did not have Christmas music.
Lancer shaking his head at Danny, “you can be quite intimidating when you want”. Danny just scowls at him, “you have never seen me legit piss off, Lance”. Even Danny knew angry Danny was a scary -and dangerous- Danny. The man simply chuckles, handing off a cup of punch to Danny. Who mutters down at it, “I could totally spike this with ectoplasm”.
“Don’t even think about it, Daniel. As it is we already had to put a cage over the noodles you brought for the pot luck”.
Danny snickers and side-eyes the writhing noddles with teeth gnawing on the bars. Unsurprisingly he was the only one willing to eat them. Frankly… they were delicious. “I like my food thank you very much”, and nods smugly. He can practically feel Millie glaring at him from across the room; she’s not exactly alone in said glaring. Not that Danny actually gives a shit.
Remi grins at him mischievously, practically slapping a reindeer headband on his head, “at least you made things more interesting, Mr. Grinch”. Danny scowls and subtly sets the antlers on fire. A couple teachers jerk away from him, but Charles laughs loudly, “you’re on fire!”. Danny smirks, “and? I happen to think it’s very friendly fire”. Remi giggles at him while Xander dumps some of the punch on Danny’s head. Rude. Understandable, but still rude.
“Whelp. Now my hair’s wet”.
“And that’s not better than being on fire?”.
Danny grins and nods smugly, “nope”.
Things go on for a while and there’s even a few shitty party games and a little dance thing which honestly just makes Danny think he’s going to die from mortification. What is it with full-blown adults and bad/embarrassing dancing? And pin the nose on the snowman? What the fuck, man. A certain purple cloaked figure distracts him from wincing over Mainers attempt at what appears to be some kind of shuffle? Eh whatever.
Danny grins at the blonde-haired man, honestly it still surprises him sometimes that his Guardian had a human form… well illusion would be more accurate. Not that that should really be surprising, considering their strength. “ClockWork”.
“Daniel”.
Lancer -who has apparently wandered back over for more punch- chokes a little, eyeballing the currently human-looking ghost. Right, he’s pretty sure he explained his Guardian to Lancer; possibly more than once actually. Lancer eyeballing Danny, “… Daniel”, with more than a little worry and warning in his voice.
Danny waves the man off, “it’s fine. ClockWork’s the last one you’d have to worry about”.
The ‘blonde’ nods, cloak moving slightly in a nonexistent wind, “indeed. Not that any would claim me harmless”.
“Nope, just legless”. ClockWork cuffs Danny one over the head for that. Danny pouting and rubbing his head, feigning injury. “Meanie”. ClockWork gives him an almost invisible fond smile.
Lancer blinks a bit harshly, “well… this is still for teachers”. Danny smirks, “and they ‘teach’ me. So there”.
ClockWork shakes their head, “I’m not here to partake, rather to remind someone that he has places to be”. Danny pouts at that, speaking incredibly sarcastically, “but I’m just hAvInG sO mUcH fUn. CaN’t YoU sEe?”, putting a hand to his chest dramatically, “BuT oH hOw NiCe Of My ClOaK bUdDy To CoMe FeTcH mE. oH hOw GrAtEfUl I aM”. ClockWork actually glares at him for that.
“Someone will come to fetch you”.
“Oh I know. But this party is just begging to be crashed”.
Lancer sighs, “for the love of Shakespeare, Daniel”. Putting on some obviously fake bravado and glaring at the ghost, “and where are you trying to take him”.
Danny sighs and sags a little, “Ancients fuck, Lance. Ghosts just so happen to have truce parties and maybe some of them get a little aggressive about me going to one”. More than a few of the other teachers are eyeballing Danny at this point.
Joshep glaring, “of course the ghosts actually like him”.
“Honestly isn’t he a little biased to be teaching about ghosts then?”.
Danny rolls his eyes, muttering, “having someone who dislikes ghosts would be what’s biased. Geez, been over this much”. Lancer claps Danny on the shoulder, avoiding ClockWork though, “for what it’s worth I agree with you, and my opinion just so happens to matter more”. Danny does smile over that, but eh, it’s probably a good idea that he skedaddles at this point.
Danny shrugs at Lancer before turning to ClockWork, “alright, cloak buddy, I’m sure Johnny’s already challenged someone to an unfair race and I’d rather a place get trashed after I’m there than before. But first…”, Danny turns around to grab up one of the Christmas oranges and lobs it through the ajar doorway. Resulting in the now more familiar than he’d like sound of Ghost Writers voice in the form of a shriek.
Lancer grimaces a little as Danny heads to the door, a few people watching awkwardly/cautiously, “I still don’t approve of you tormenting a poet with fruit”. That just makes Danny grin meanly at Lancer, then at the Ghost Writer who’s around the door and glaring at him.
Millie shouts after him, “you could at least dispose of the abomination that you call ‘food’!”. Danny shouting back, “naw! Why would I deny everyone the joy of such yummy friendly food!”, then snickering meanly to himself. Both ClockWork and Ghost Writer shake their heads at him, though ClockWork looks a lot more fond… and amused.
-
So what’s the first thing that greets Danny when he actually gets to Dora’s kingdom -which is apparently the place hosting, for his particular group anyway, this year- why it’s Skulker with a slice of pie in hand of course. Always was, probably always would be. Danny shaking his head fondly at the robotic ghost, “so what’s the flavour this year, my determined little poacher”.
“Berry and fish”.
Danny stares at him a little, “… okay yeah fuck you”, but takes the pie anyway. Like always it’s freaking delicious, but come on? Seriously? Berry and fish? Ghosts are weird, man. Not that he isn’t totally here for said weird.
It takes not even five minutes for Dora to practically skip up to him, putting a dainty hand on his shoulder lightly, “you look well, nest-mate mine”.
“You as well, Aurora”. Danny liked his nicknames, including for ghosties he actually liked. Danny smirking, putting a hand to his chest as she takes a step back, “in fact, I’m wonderfully well off. Got a group of teens to entertain most days, then there’s the Guardian thing I’ve got going for me, oh and all these fuckers-”, jabbing a thumb towards the random crowd of ghosts, “-actually somewhat respect my human job”.
Ember scowls and snarks, “messing with a Guardian’s duties is just asking for trouble”.
“And you don’t actively want trouble? Huh, guess I misread you”. Ember flips Danny off for that. Dora, however, giggles lightly, hand over her mouth, “trouble-seeking as she maybe, there is a difference”.
Danny rolls his eyes, waving her off, “yeah yeah yeah, I know. Still fun to poke fun at everyone though”, and sticks his tongue out in Ember’s general direction; she throws a guitar pick at him, though she does look a little amused at least.
That was the nice thing about ghosts, they liked picking fights and poking fun at each other… and they liked others doing that back to them. Unlike humans, who usually got pissed off if you snapped back at them regardless of if they snapped at you first *cough cough* Dash *cough cough*.
Dora hums and nods to herself, “well you enjoy the party and may the truce for you be bless-ed, nest-mate”.
“May it be bless-ed for you as well, nest-mate”.
Dora was a nice sorta sister to have, and considering the Queen/mother fucking DRAGON thing he didn’t really have to worry about anyone picking fights with his little -even though she’s legit older than him- sister.
YoungBlood zips over and whisper laughs into Danny’s ear, “you should totally go bug that nasty Aragon about your boring adult stuff”, snicker, “he so doesn’t know”.
Danny grins wickedly, “oh Hell yeah”.
The kid -that Danny’s pretty sure he can only still see because he was absolutely still immature and because of the right to the High Throne thing- laughs and gets overexcited, “can I come! Can I come! Can I come! I’ll bring grapes”.
“Does everyone just know that I throw grapes at that bastard”.
“Yup!”.
“Fuck you, yes you can come”, smirking at the child ghost, “but make sure they’re extra squishy”. YoungBlood giving him a goofy thumbs-up before getting distracted by the sweets table.
Kitty giggles from the side at him, “here I thought teachers weren’t supposed to swear around children”.
“I resent that”, putting a hand to his chest, “why I in fact taught them to”, sticking up a finger, “in ghost speak specifically”. They had totally been taking advantage of that to get away with swearing in their other classes. Which Danny one hundred percent supports wholeheartedly. Kitty laughs at that and Danny’s going to take a guess that Johnny’s off hitting on some other girls here. Kitty speaking up again, “you know…. The flowers are kind of cute”, and giggles, leaning over to fiddle with one of the ghost pipes. Well that feels like proof to him.
Unsurprisingly Johnny comes out of nowhere, scowling at him then smirking attractively at Kitty, “come on babe, whatcha doing with him”.
She just huffs at him; Danny taking the opportunity to subtly slink away from the pair while they go about having one of their typical lovers quarrels. Danny damn near crashes into Desiree in the process through.
She scowls at him a little before shaking her head, “and that is why I absolutely do not ‘want a man’”. Danny chuckling awkwardly, “ah come on now, some of us are at least fun to mess with”. That gets a smirk out of the genie ghost, “true. Still not worth the trouble”. Danny just chooses to shrug before wandering off to the little appetiser table, Desiree’s tolerance for him was minimal at best… especially because he was a guy.
-
Danny barely gets to spend ten minutes demolishing the appetiser table before Walker is there being a pick and shoving a present at his chest unnecessarily hard. Danny letting out a little oof followed by a not so eloquent, “jerk”, in the prison wardens general direction.
The skull-faced ghost scowls at him, “I hope you are teaching those delinquents the law”. Danny rolling his eyes so hard it almost hurt, “of course, Whitey. I might be lazy and have a complete disregard for law but when I have responsibilities I actually tend to do them”, shrugging, “with the occasional shortcut”, smirking meanly at the ghost, “besides, the best ways to break the law require knowing it”, and winks. If it wasn’t the truce Danny is a-hundred-percent positive Walker would assault him right now.
Walker sneering, “you’re lucky it’s the truce, punk”, and stalking off feels like proof in Danny’s books.
Walker taking the initiative with the present giving basically results in everyone else following suit. Which of course means Danny gets pelted by boxes, which the exception of the occasional one that’s actually handed to him. They were all combative motherfuckers alright? Danny laughing probably doesn’t discourage it though.
Like always most would prove to be useless or even slightly insulting. Not that the gifts he chucks back won’t be equally offensive/pointless. He’s pretty sure his gift for Boxy is literally just a shit ton of marbles with square shapes inside them to really bug the guy. ClockWorks was a little touching though, being a gear cog accessory for his staff, and fine maybe Danny also gave ClockWork staff accessories. Like minds think in kind. Too bad FrostBite and Pandora have their own kingdoms truce celebrations to see to. Eh, he’ll visit them at some point. Besides, they all took turns hosting his group's truce celebrations. Technically he could go to those parties too but Danny’s not putting himself through three to six ‘Christmas’/‘Yule’/truce parties every year. He’s not a fucking masochist, regardless of what anyone might say.
Eventually, everyone gets all well and done with their present-based assault of each other. Dora nodding to herself and raising her chalice, “to a blessed and successful-”, everyone glancing judgingly at the Ghost Writer, “-truce!”. Danny, and more than a few others, chuckling at the Ghost Writers expense before sipping their prospective drinks. Was Danny’s the most disgusting horrid-looking concoction he could come up with based on what ingredients he had at his disposal? Abso-fucking-lutely. He even stuck in an orange wedge for the fuck of it. The smell was truly atrocious and the mild glaring that causes only makes Danny feel all the more smug. Drinking what’s effectively consumable battery acid with a devilish smirk as the party begins to draw to an end.
-
And boom bada boom, another year's festivities over. Guess the class shit’s over for another year too, so a nice little two-for-one ending there. Nice. Now to do it all over again in, like, a month. Well okay, a year for the truce crap. Oh whatever. Class starts again in January…
Eh at least Lancer had the decency to put Danny’s ecto-ology class in the afternoon again. Hopefully, that will never change. Though the fact that Danny still managed to show up late would probably cement that afternoon time slot. Ancients Danny might not show up at all out of spite if the man scheduled it any sooner. Lancer probably knew that too, the man had proven he understood waaaaaaay more than Danny ever thought/knew.
At least no one was treating him different due to the Guardian/teacher thing. Much anyways. Goes to show that Danny could probably change into infinitely stranger things and people would probably still go ‘eh that’s just Danny for you’. No one, ghost nor human, should have expected he’d become a freaking teacher (except ClockWork anyway… and the stupid fucking Observants) and yet everything went more or less fine.
But still, fuck Christmas.
And fuck the Observants for good measure.
What the heck, fuck the educational system too.
Throw in a ‘fuck his half-life’ for bonus points and to complete the nonexistent list of things to flip off before he goes to bed.
End.
#Danny Phantom#phandom#invisobang#danny#sam#tucker#dash#valerie#mr. lancer#technus#skulker#kitty#johnny#box ghost#clockwork#observants#teacher! danny#danny's a little shit#danny fenton the teacher#danny gets a job#your teachers dead shenanigins#fan fic#phan phic#my writing#have a fic suck my dick#phantomphangphucker#slight religous mocking#invisobang 2021
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Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here!
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A/N: This is the last part to The miscommunication series, I hope you guys enjoy it ;) Also peep the last link to ‘Zine’ and stay tuned
This is weird.
You look up from your textbook at the scrawny boy across from you. The circles under his eyes look especially dark as the blue light from his tablet shines on his face.
Yeah, this situation is super weird.
You’re ashamed to admit it, but you’ve been avoiding Dick a little bit lately.
You’re still pleasant to him in class, and you see him at the study group sessions, but you don’t try to make the effort to see him in situations where it’s just the two of you.
You’re just not ready to see him with all these feelings brewing inside you.
So the last thing you wanted was to run into his little brother, especially when you purposefully went to another coffee shop across town just so you wouldn’t run into Dick.
Still, you’re surprised Tim chose to sit with you after ordering 4 shots of espresso over ice.
“The ice makes it cold so you can’t taste how bitter it is” he had told you when you looked at his drink with a skeptical expression.
Well, it’s not a problem, you think taking a sip of your chai tea. Tim seems like a quiet person, he’s only said a handful of words to you so far, he probably won’t even bring up -
“So are you and Dick fighting?” Tim asks without looking up and you choke on your tea.
“So you are fighting” he hums as his gaze trails from his tablet to you. He figured Dick was being paranoid, honestly, even Tim thought following you to the coffee shop and pretending that he just ran into you was overkill.
Man, he figured you were just in the middle of some misunderstanding. He’s usually right about these things. Tim’s not going to lie, it stings to know Dick was on the nose about this one.
“It’s not that we’re fighting,” because you both really aren’t, there’s only going to be a fight if he finds out how you feel and how uncomfortable your new feelings make him considering he already has someone he loves.
“I just don’t want to get between him-“
“And Nightwing?” Tim supplies for you and your eyes widen.
“You know?” Tim nods in response.
You think Tim is saying he knows his brother and Nightwing are dating.
Tim thinks that you found out Dick got reprimanded a few weeks ago because he was spotted chatting with you on your balcony. He was able to play it off as just a normal chat but he would be risking exposing you to every villain in Gotham if they ever found out your were someone important to him.
“Maybe you are-“ Tim hums. You feel like a lightning bolt has struck your spine. So Dick does know about your feelings - or at least suspects something.
“But that’s not exactly a bad thing” Tim finishes, and you raise an eyebrow. You wait for an explanation but Tim’s already turned back to his tablet, typing away.
You look at the city, buildings springing up like trees from the concrete, their jagged edges like the crooks of a mountain. Nothing’s really changed. Not the buildings, or the skyline, not the stars in the inky black void of outer space. Not the city that never seems to sleep, the idle chatter of cars and civilians always whirring in the distance.
The only thing that has seemed to change, is you.
“That smells good, is it green tea?”
Well, one other thing has changed. You find a smile twitching onto your mouth as you hand Nightwing the mug in your hands. He’s perched on the ledge of your balcony, legs swing against the bars.
You get anxious just watching him.
“I had a feeling you’d stop by, it’s cherry blossom green tea, I think you’ll like it.” It’s a naturally sweet tea, so he should find it suits his taste considering he seems to share the same disposition for sweet things as his boyfriend.
You know that encounter with Tim this morning was weird, but the fact that you’ve kind of become late-night tea and chat buddies with your love rival is even weirder.
Looks like you can’t even make friends in a normal way.
“You’re a lifesaver,” he grins taking a sip of the hot beverage with a satisfied smile. The hum he lets out afterward sends shivers down your spine. Geez, no wonders Dick has it so bad for him.
You wonder what kind of noises he makes when they’re together-
Nope. Nope. No. Nope. No.
That was too far, your imagination really needs to get a grip.
“So how are things with you and that guy you love?” You flinch at the mention, choosing to take an unusually long sip of tea right then.
“That good huh?” Nightwing snorts, and you sigh. You’re not going to tell him about the cryptic conversation you had with Tim, especially considering the fact that he doesn’t seem to support their relationship.
Dick feels a little frustrated, as he watches you avoid his eyes. The whole thing seems off like there’s something missing. So you don’t want to be seen with Dick Grayson, but you don’t mind midnight tea talk with Nightwing- and you tell Tim how you don’t want to get in between him and his superhero persona- and then you wave him over when you see he’s a rooftop over-
It just doesn’t make any sense.
And worst of all-you look so pretty standing there, even with that sad look on your face.
“Well you know what they say-“ you let out a dry laugh, “to get over someone, you have to get under someone else”
It’s just a joke - a bad joke, you’re helping it’ll ease the tension. You figure Nightwing will make a dumb joke or pun back, and this whole thing can be behind you when he says-
“Get under me then” you’re so taken aback but what he’s said you’re sure he must have heard wrong. But when you look away from the green tea in your mug to his face, that chiseled face is only a few inches away from your own.
Before you can open your mouth to ask what he’s doing so close to you, his lips are pressed over your own. His gloved fingers ghosting over your cheek, holding it so tenderly that the action sends shivers down your spine.
Dick pulls away, fingers retreating to his domino mask, he doesn’t want to confess to you as Nightwing he wants to do it as Dick-
When you slap him.
This has seriously been the worst day. Dick sighs as he turns the water faucet to his shower off, grabbing his towel from the rack.
First, he forgets his cell phone at home on a Monday afternoon, so he’s got nothing to do to pass the time while he patrols.
Then the girl he likes slaps him before running back into her apartment without another word, probably to go cry-
And finally, to make the perfect end to the perfect day Dick got caught in a spontaneous rainstorm, getting soaked to the bone on his way back home. He figured Gotham could wait for a few hours and decided to come home a little early.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if I catch a cold” he mumbles tying his robe around his waist, his hands moving the towel to dry his hair, stopping mid-motion when he hears several very urgent knocks.
Well, who could it be at this hour? He’s considering ignoring it, probably just one of his brothers wanting to use his shower, when he hears several more knocks.
“Geez Jason, the neighbors are going to complain” he hisses, as he clings open the door, fully expecting to see his younger brother drenched to the bone and creating a puddle in the middle of his apartment building's hallway.
And someone is standing in the middle of his apartment building's communal hallway, drenched to the bone and creating a puddle in the hallway. But it’s not Jason, it’s you.
He only pulls you inside his apartment, the door clicking behind you when you break down into tears.
“I-I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to, I should have known better but- I didn’t think it would happen” The words are jilted by your tears and your chattering teeth. Did you run all the way here? Dick wonders as he starts using his slightly damp towel to dry your hair.
“I really didn’t want it, Dick, I promise I didn’t-“ you clasp his arm now jilting his movements. In the pandemonium, he completely forgot that you were the one that slapped him just a few hours ago, and now you’re the one apologizing for something?
“What are you talking about?” he sees your gulp hard, your eyes averted like a dog that realizes he’s accidentally snapped at his owner. And then, with clenched eyes and your hands balled into fists you shout:
“Nightwing kissed me!” Yeah, he knows, he was there. Kinda weird that you’re referring to him with his superhero persona. You look at him earnestly now- clasping both of his hands in yours.
“I promise I didn’t mean to make a pass at your boyfriend or steal him away from you.”
.
..
...
Huh?
You’re babbling about how ‘You could do so much better than a guy like that Dick’ and ‘if it was me- I would never do something like that’ when the flashbulb finally goes off over his head.
Oh.
Ohhhhhhhh. You think he’s dating Nightwing. This actually explains a lot.
“Here come with me” he grabs onto your numb wrist before you can answer, tugging you towards his bedroom. Your eyes staring into his robe-covered back.
Oh no, you can’t believe you didn’t realize it before.
Nightwing’s here isn’t he? That would answer why he hasn’t answered any of the texts you’ve sent him. Who would when they were busy having a romantic liaison with their lover. And obviously, he spun some different story for Dick, probably that you kissed him. And now you’re going to have to confront them both and pray that Dick believes you-
Only to your surprise, the bedroom is empty, and Dick’s fiddling around with something in his rather large wardrobe. Before you can ask what he’s doing he pulls out a suit-
It almost looks like a wet suit, with accents of blue amongst the sleek black- so he surfs? Is he showing off right now?
But then your eyes land on the bright blue symbol smack dab in the middle of the chest.
So Nightwing was here, and he did spin another story! You’re mentally preparing your best argument when you look into Dick’s baby blue eyes stare into your own, softening as they gaze warmly at you.
“(Y/N), I’m Nightwing”
.
..
...
(Y/N).exe is broken
Dick watches you gulp hard. Then he watches you slide past him, each step pronounced with a squeak, and step into his wardrobe before closing it from the inside.
“(Y/N)!”
“(Y/N)’s dead, so she can’t come to the phone anymore” Dick can practically feel the embarrassment radiate through the wardrobe door, and in spite of the situation, Dick laughs. He laughs so hard you actually swing open the door, crouched at the bottom of his wardrobe.
“It’s not funny Dick! Do you know how worried I was about you! I thought Bruce Wayne was homophobic and that you were leading some double life!” Dick only laughs harder at that. To be fair, he is leading a double life, just not the one you imagined he was.
“Well you’re not totally wrong,” he says between chuckles, sitting on the ground outside your wardrobe next to you. “I like guys and girls, but Bruce had it figured out before I even did,” he says with a shrug, mouth quirked up into a grin. His cheeks hold a rosy tinge, but somehow his red cheek is even brighter-
Ah, that’s the cheek you slapped.
Without thinking you reach out to him, your thumb caressing the swollen flesh. Dick doesn’t flinch away, relaxing into your touch.
“Sorry about that, I thought your boyfriend was cheating on you,” you say with a sheepish smile. Dick grins even wider.
“Would the response have been the same if you knew it was me?” There’s a hopeful glint in his eyes and you feel your heartbeat stutter.
Is he stupid?
If you knew it was Dick if you knew it was the boy you loved sitting on your balcony railing drinking tea with you all those times-
“Of course I wouldn’t have”
And Dick doesn’t wait another moment, leaning forward to catch your lips in his own.
This time you don’t slap him. Instead, you place both hands on his face and pull him in closer.
BONUS:
“So you’re Nightwing-“ you say, sitting cross-legged across from Dick in a marching bathrobe in his bed. He insisted you shower, he didn’t want you getting sick. You thought he was going to combust with how red he turned when you jokingly asked if he wanted to join you.
“And your Dad, Bruce, he’s Batman”
“That’s right” Dick nods.
“And you’re brothers, they’re the Red Hood, Robin, and Red Robin... respectively,”
Dick nods again.
“And Stephanie and Cass, they’re a part of this too, They’re both Batgirl” Dick nods, he tries to get some eye contact, but you’re firmly starting down at your hands.
“And your ex, Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Gordon’s daughter- she’s the original Batgirl.”
This must be pretty overwhelming, he had never realized what a robust mantle their extended family collectively carried. He’s about to offer you some comfort when your head snaps up-
“Do you think if I got all of them to autograph my textbook I could sell it and buy a new one”
Dick starts laughing.
“Seriously, there’s no one like you in the world”
#batman imagine#dc comics imagine#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#nightwing headcanon#nightwing imagine#nightwing fanfiction#superhero—imagines#dick miscommunication series
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daisy chain
oop, back at it again with dragon dick kiri
thank you SO much to @brattyquirks and @shoutogepi for looking over this for me when i was sick of looking at it, and @ramen-rambles for the fun idea!! i appreciate the help so so much !! 🧡
pairing: kirishima x reader x bakugou
word count: 8.3k
warnings: explicit penetrative sex, M/M/F threesome, dildos, dragon dick kiri
this is part of the dragon dick kiri series
tip jar!
It had started out as a joke, a throwaway comment that you really hadn’t put all that much thought into. You didn’t expect it to grow into anything more, but maybe you should have; it was pretty typical of Bakugou to take an innocent comment and interpret it as a personal challenge, after all.
“I hate my life.” You announce to no one in particular, your voice echoing off of the bathroom tiles.
“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou snarls. You can’t take the vicious heat in his voice seriously, given your current predicament, so you just opt to ignore it. “Will you just- ow! That hurts, you stupid, shitty-”
“Fuck off, this is not my fault!” You snap back. Your patience is frayed and barely hanging on by a thread, and you feel safe enough snapping back at Bakugou considering you’re confident that he’s in no position to try and kill you if he does happen to take issue with your tone.
“We’re not playing the blame game!” Bakugou snarls, which means that he’s definitely aware that he’s at fault here but doesn’t want to admit it. “All you have to do is-”
“I’m trying!”
“You’re not trying hard enough!”
You swear viciously and get to your feet, clambering out of the bathtub. You nearly slip on the wet tile floor, but just manage to keep your balance.
“Wait,” Bakugou says, and his tone has changed significantly. He sounds a little panicked now, as if he thinks that you’re about to abandon him to his fate, “Where the fuck are you going?”
You decide not to answer him, just because you’re feeling kind of petty, but when you remain quiet he tries to climb out of the bathtub after you. You notice the movement out of the corner of your eye and turn to look at him, scowling. “Will you stay where you are!”
“Where are you going!”
“I’m right here, I’m not leaving!” You go back to peering into the bathroom cabinet, thoroughly irritated by just about everything right now. “This is so stupid.”
“This was your idea.” Bakugou murmurs sulkily. His voice is quiet and resentful, and you’re probably not even supposed to hear it but you do hear it, and you whirl around.
“What?” Your voice comes out louder than you had intended, but you’re angry now. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You came up with this all by yourself!”
Bakugou’s face is scrunched up in a mixture of pained discomfort and embarrassment, but he still manages to level you with a cuttingly annoyed glare. He opens his mouth to speak, and you ready yourself for whatever no doubt pathetic excuse is about to fall out of his mouth when your bickering is interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.
“Hey,” Kirishima calls, concerned, “Are you guys okay in there?”
“Everything’s fine!” You yell at the same time as Bakugou practically screeches “Yes, fuck off!”
“Uhhh..” Kirishima remains unconvinced. The floor creaks as he shifts his weight around in front of the door. “What’s going on?”
You can’t blame him for being worried; both you and Bakugou have been locked in the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes. You and Kirishima had been relaxing on the couch while Bakugou showered when the shower had shut off abruptly and Bakugou had started roaring your name. You had gone running instinctively, leaving Kirishima wide-eyed and startled on the couch as you went crashing into the bathroom.
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Bakugou leaning over the ceramic edge of the bathtub with his fingers up his ass, red-faced and visibly panicking.
“It’s nothing to worry about, babe,” you call out to Kirishima, finally finding what you had been searching for and banging the cabinet shut. “We’ll be out soon, promise.”
After an excruciatingly long moment, Kirishima decides to take your word for it and retreats. You let out a breath, then turn back to Bakugou. He’s kneeling down, but his back is almost unnaturally straight and his jaw is clenched tight. His discomfort is obvious, but you really can’t bring yourself to feel all that sympathetic towards him - you still can’t believe he had the nerve to try and blame this on you.
You take a deep, fortifying breath, and slide your shoulders back. “Okay,” you say, “Bend over, ass up.”
Bakugou looks at you as though you’d just taken out a gun and threatened to shoot him. “What the fuck?”
“There is literally no other way to fish out the dildo that you lost up your ass, so just do it!” You hiss, your patience officially reaching its limit thanks to a healthy mixture of anger and embarrassment. You would rather be literally anywhere else right now, and you imagine Bakugou feels the same way.
The anger and embarrassment on his face only gets worse when he catches sight of the bottle of lube you’ve managed to fish out of the cabinet. He stays quiet as you climb back into the bathtub and situate yourself behind him and then, miraculously, he bends forward and braces himself on the rim of the bathtub with his ass jutting out towards you without saying a word.
“Okay,” you breathe. Now that his ass is actually being presented to you, you’re at a loss for what to do. “Um.”
“Just get on with it!” Bakugou hisses over his shoulder. The embarrassment is only fueling his anger, and you have a feeling that the only reason you haven’t been murdered so that no one else can ever learn about this is because the dildo lost somewhere up Bakugou’s rectum is hindering his movements.
“Okay!” You kneel down and squint at his ass. Though the shower is off, the tub is still wet and the moisture seeps through the knees of your jeans. You ignore the temporary discomfort as you pet awkwardly at Bakugou’s back to try and calm him down as your other hand slips towards his asshole. “God, this is awkward.”
“You don’t have to fucking point it out.” Bakugou grounds out through gritted teeth. His fists are clenching the edge of the tub so tight that his knuckles strain against the thin skin on his hands.
You uncap the lube and drizzle it all over your fingers. It might be a little overkill, but you’re already so far out of your comfort zone that you figure it’s better to be safe than sorry. The last thing you need is Bakugou snapping your head off because you accidentally hurt his ass. “Remind me why you shouted for me instead of Kirishima?”
Bakugou grumbles a little bit at that, but before he can answer the question you take the plunge and stick your fingers in his ass. It obviously takes him by surprise, because he lunges forward a bit and can’t quite bite back the strangled noise that’s punched out of his throat. “Fuck! Warn a guy before you go sticking your fingers up his ass!”
“You have a whole dildo up there, I doubt my fingers are gonna make that much of a difference.” You say, maybe a bit uncharitably. His asshole is lubed up pretty well, so your fingers slide in with ease, but he is pretty tight. You can totally see how his asshole slurped up the dildo as if it was suction powered. “Hey, you never answered my question.”
“What fucking question? Jesus-!” He jerks away from your fingers a little and bares his teeth at you over his shoulder, “Fucking take it easy!”
You glare at him, but don’t rise to it. “Why did you call for me instead of Kirishima?” It’s hard to keep your questing fingers gentle when you’re searching for something inside an asshole, but you do your best to try and keep Bakugou’s complaints to a minimum.
Bakugou exhales forcefully, the line of his shoulders tense and rigid. “I don’t know,” he says through gritted teeth, “I wasn’t thinking.”
You hum thoughtfully, but then your fingers brush the base of the dildo and you lose your train of thought. “Ah!” It’s difficult to get a grip on it, because of the copious amounts of lube and the awkward shape of the base. Everytime you almost catch a hold of it, you accidentally push it further in. “Fuck! Why the hell didn’t you use a dildo with some kind of flared base?”
“How many fucking dildos do you think I have on hand, huh?” Bakugou says. He’s obviously angry, but it’s a little difficult to take that anger seriously when you have several fingers stuffed in his anus. “This whole thing is your fault, anyway.”
This is roughly the third time he’s said something along those lines, so you remove your hand and sit back on your ankles, squinting at his upturned ass. “Okay, explain.”
Bakugou squirms, clearly antsy now that you’ve stopped trying to help him. “We talked about it last week!”
You just stare, at a loss. “Huh?”
He glares back at you, but when it becomes apparent that you genuinely don’t know what he’s talking about he’s forced to grumble, “When I asked you about Kirishima.”
You think for a long moment, mentally raking through every interaction you’ve had with Bakugou over the course of the week. You don’t remember ever saying anything that could have been construed as- oh. Oh, he’s gotta be joking.
One day last week, after a round of enthusiastically messy sex, you had been limping just a little. Bakugou, being the little shithead he was, laughed and prodded at you the whole way to the kitchen, and you had responded with an eye roll and an irritable “I’d like to see you take his dick, asshole.”
No reasonable person could ever have picked up your offhand remark as an actual challenge, but you weren’t dealing with a reasonable person right now. You go to cover your face with your hand only to remember that it was up Bakugou’s ass only moments previously, and quickly divert it away from your face. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”
Bakugou is flushed from the tip of his ears to his chest, a fetching shade of red. “You said you’d like to see it.”
“Oh, don’t pretend this is about what I want!”
“Well, obviously I want it too, but I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you didn’t want it!” Bakugou snaps back. The two of you are irritable and embarrassed and your patience is at an all time low, but then Bakugou draws back and shuffles around on his knees so that he can actually see your face. “Do you want it? Fucking tell me if you don’t.”
You stare back at him dumbly, a little mesmerised by the vulnerability in his face. Bakugou has never presented himself as anything other than invincible in your presence, so this little sliver of emotional honestly has you melting a little bit. You glance away and allow yourself a moment to really think about what he’s proposing. You know that what he’s really hoping to do is prove that he can take Kirishima’s ridiculous dick better than you can.
It’s like he’s come to the conclusion that because he has no chance of beating Kirishima in the dick size contest, he has to compete with you for the best ability to take it. Honestly, you’re okay with that -- mainly because you’re pretty secure in the knowledge that he’s gonna lose.
You’d also be lying if you said the idea of getting to watch Kirishima fuck Bakugou didn’t cause you to heat up in between your legs.
“Hm.” You keep your face intentionally blank, watching Bakugou as he visibly fights not to fidget against the discomfort of both waiting for your response and the dildo up his hole. At last, you say, “Yeah. I want to see it.” Bakugou exhales, slow and steady, and nods. You don’t give him much of a chance to relax though. “Now, I need you to bend over properly. Face down, ass up. I need a better angle.”
Predictably, Bakugou doesn’t take that suggestion well, and it takes several more minutes of mingled arguing and coaxing before he finally sinks down into the requested position (though not without throwing a particularly venomous glare over his shoulder at you). You have to fight not to swear at him, because he’s the one that asked you for help here! It’s not as though you’re holding him hostage just so you can fish around in his asshole!
When he’s assumed the position, he buries his face in his arms. “Just get it fucking done.”
When faced with Bakugou on his knees in front of you, face down, ass up, with his back arched, you’re forced to face the rather irritating revelation that his ass is, like, perfect. It’s probably the perkiest damn thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You scowl at it, feeling both resentful and kind of turned on, before finally turning your attention to the task at hand. When you reach down to his asshole again, your fingers slide in with ease thanks to the lube and the fact that he’s already pretty well stretched.
Your fingers aren’t as long or wide as his are, but he still jerks against you as you poke around. His hips hunch forwards and he hisses like an angry cat as your fingers bump the base of the dildo, accidentally sliding it in a little further. “Fucking hell,” you murmur, brow scrunched in a deep frown, “How deep did you manage to get it?”
Bakugou bares his teeth in a grimace. “I ain’t blind, I’ve seen the size of Kirishima’s cock. I’m not stupid enough to go in without stretching myself out.”
“Just stupid enough to lose the dildo up your ass.” You mutter under your breath.
“The fuck did you just say?” Bakugou whips his head around to glare over his shoulder.
“Nothing!” You say hastily, deciding that you’ve probably pushed your luck far enough already. Your fingers jostle the dildo again and Bakugou lurches forward again, an odd pained sound leaving his lips. “Sorry, sorry!”
“Just-!” Bakugou’s voice is strained, and he’s buried his face in his arms again so that you can’t see him. “Fucking take it out!”
“I’m trying.” You grumble, trying not to sound petulant. If it were that easy, then surely he could have done it himself without your assistance! Bakugou grunts again when you finally manage to hook your fingers around the base of the dildo, but you barely notice as you excitedly say, “Hey! I got it!”
Bakugou braces himself, the whole length of his back flexing impressively as you begin to gradually pull the dildo out. It’s slow-going, mainly because you have to keep adjusting your grip so that it doesn’t slip right out of your fingertips, and Bakugou definitely doesn’t appreciate the slow speed. His fists are clenched tight and the flush has spread all down his neck and over his chest. His jaw is rolling constantly, and his eyes are squeezed shut. You actually feel kind of sorry for him, and you try your best to keep your movements as gentle and unobtrusive as possible.
That is, until you bump the dildo a little awkwardly and a downright filthy moan is torn from Bakugou’s throat. You both freeze, but Bakugou tensing up means that you nearly lose your grip on the dildo all over again. “Stop clenching!” You shriek, fingers scrabbling desperately against the hard plastic as you fight to keep a hold of it.
“Fuck you!” He yells back, but it seems like more of a reflexive response than anything else.
You shift backwards to try and get a better angle, and then you notice for the first time that his dick is hanging hard and heavy between his legs. “Bakugou Katsuki,” you say softly, watching as his back goes rigid at both your tone and your use of his full name, “How are you still hard? Are you seriously getting off on this?”
“No!” Bakugou snaps, his voice an octave higher than usual. “Fuck off! As if I’d get off to your grubby little fingers!”
“Grubby?” You sit back on your heels again, irritated. “Well, maybe I should just leave you here to take care of this little problem yourself, then. I don’t know why you called me in if my touch is so gross-”
“No!” Bakugou reaches behind him in an attempt to grab at your thighs to prevent you from moving, despite the fact that you haven’t made any real move to leave. “Just-!”
While he’s distracted, you give one quick tug and pull the entire length of the dildo out all at once. Bakugou’s whole body spasms as he lets out another strangled groan, and you don’t miss the way his dick twitches between his legs. You have to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing, because you have a feeling that Bakugou would not take that well. “It’s out!” you say, a little redundantly, and hold up the dildo.
Bakugou is still hunched over, his chest heaving slightly as he regulates his breathing. “Fucking hell.” He mutters without looking up. His hole is still loose and wet from the lube, and you have to look away as you feel yourself heating up with embarrassment.
You clear your throat pointedly, and raise your eyebrows when he finally turns to scowl up at you. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
“Hah? No.”
You scowl back at him. “I just did you a favour, dickhead.”
Bakugou totally ignores you as he climbs to his feet, wincing a little at the movement. You follow his lead, grumbling irritably, and when you’re both standing facing each other you’re hit with the realisation for the first time that Bakugou is very naked and still wet from his shower. “Okay then!” You say, probably too loudly. “Well! I’ll leave you to, uh, finish up?”
His dick is still hard, and you feel like it’s pointing accusingly at you. Bakugou is frowning thoughtfully at the dildo that’s still clutched awkwardly in your hands. “I’m still horny.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” You wonder if he’s asking for his dildo back, and then you realise that you don’t want it yourself so you shove it into his chest.
He takes it absent-mindedly, his frown transferring to focus on you. “Are you turned on?”
“What?”
His gaze drops to your legs, and you’re embarrassed to realise that he’s caught your thighs rubbing together. Before you can say anything, he says, “I’m not judging. If you get wet from playing with my ass that’s your own business.”
“You’re such a dickhead.” It’s not really an answer, but you both know that he really doesn’t need one.
His gaze moves to the door, thoughtful, as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m ready if you are.”
It takes an embarrassingly long moment to catch on to what he means. Your gaze flicks from the door to the dildo. It is, admittedly, fairly large; it’s probably about ten inches long, and decently thick. It’s a small miracle that it ever got lost inside Bakugou’s ass. And yet; Kirishima’s dick is definitely larger.
There’s no way of telling Bakugou this without inadvertently starting an argument, so you let it go. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Bakugou grins, wild and anticipatory, and hops out of the tub. His erection swings heavily between his legs in a motion that’s almost obscene as he swaggers towards the bathroom door and flicks open the lock. When you move to follow him, he sticks his arm out and frowns at the length of your body. “Take your clothes off.”
“Huh?” You glance down at yourself. “Right now? Why can’t I take them off in the bedroom?”
“Because we’re going into this fucking ready, come on.” He tugs impatiently at your shirt.
“Okay, okay.” You slap at his hands before starting to tug your clothes off. It takes a bit of extra effort to get the damp jeans off because they’ve started to cling to your legs. Bakugou’s tugging hands are significantly more hindering than they are helpful, but eventually you’re standing naked with your clothes strewn all around your feet.
It takes effort not to comment on Bakugou’s impatience, and even then the main reason you don’t comment is because now there’s no dildo hindering his ability to murder you. When he yanks open the door, his shoulders are high and tense with anticipation, and he sets off down the hall towards the living room at a speed far too quick to be casual. You scurry after him, having the presence of mind to feel a little embarrassed and self-conscious at your total nudity as you both emerge into the living room. Bakugou, naturally, owns his nudity unrepentantly.
“Oi.” he says sharply, as eloquent as ever.
“You guys finally done? What happened, did Bakugou fall into the toil...et?” Kirishima’s voice trails off and pitches high as he turns his head from the couch, his eyes flying wide when he catches sight of you and Bakugou standing totally nude in the mouth of the hallway. “Uh. Whoa?”
“Let’s go, asshole, we’re ready to fuck.”
“What?” Kirishima looks vaguely as though he’s been hit by a metaphorical truck, but he jumps from the couch despite his obvious confusion. “Now?”
“Obviously, come on!”
Kirishima’s bewildered gaze flickers from Bakugou to you, and the most you can offer him is a companionably confused shrug. “Okay.” He starts to grin, as willing to go with the flow as ever. The front of his sweatpants is already beginning to tent, and you can’t help but chuckle at how easily aroused he is. “Yeah, okay. Great.”
Bakugou turns and marches back down the hall towards Kirishima’s room, securely confident that both you and Kirishima are following behind him. He’s right, obviously, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his cockiness. Still though; walking behind him like this you get a great view of his ass, and what a great view it is.
When you glance up at Kirishima, you see that he’s already staring at your bare chest. “What the hell happened in the bathroom?” He asks quietly. He’s still grinning, his arousal obviously unaffected by his confusion.
“I’ll tell you later.” You promise. You know you’re only adding to his bewilderment, but you really don’t think you can succinctly explain the situation in the time it takes to get from the living room to the bedroom.
As always, Kirishima just takes the whole thing in his stride. “Okay.” He agrees with a ridiculous amount of cheer, then claps and rubs his hands together like a cheesy movie villain. “Let’s get going!”
When you enter Kirishima’s room, Bakugou is already spread out on the bed; his cock is laying hard and proud against the gloriously defined contours of his stomach, and his bicep bulges as he cushions his head with one arm. He looks positively pornographic, and you falter for a moment. The act of simply looking at him seems indecent.
Kirishima, naturally, just bounds right up and leaps onto the bed. “Lookin’ good, bro!”
“How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that when we’re about to-” Bakugou begins furiously, but the rest of his complaint is lost as Kirishima practically tackles him into the mattress. You have to admit, as you watch the two of them grapple like children on the bed, you’re begrudgingly impressed by Bakugou’s unflagging hard on; he must be really excited for what’s to come. You suppose you can’t blame him, really. Considering the slimy feeling between your thighs, you know that you’re just as excited. After a moment, Bakugou successfully shoves him off. “Idiot,” he says, completely lacking any sort of heat, “Are we doing this or what?”
“You’re so impatient br- uh, dude.”
“Dude is not an improvement, you fucking-”
Kirishima ignores the beginning of Bakugou’s rant and turns to you, making ridiculous grabby motions. “Get over here, gorgeous!”
A slow, coy grin begins to spread over your face as you look slowly between Kirishima and Bakugou. They both seem to puff up just a little under your gaze; Kirishima squares his shoulders and grins unrepentantly at you, a very obvious wet patch beginning to form under the conspicuous bulge in his sweatpants, while Bakugou’s stomach flexes as he acts as though he had forgotten that you were there. You hum, stepping forward but stopping just out of arm's reach. “Not yet.” You decide, tilting your head to meet Bakugou’s gaze head on.
He grins, wide and challenging. His eyes are dark and excited, but he doesn’t speak up to clue Kirishima in on what he’s planning just yet. Kirishima, meanwhile, is pouting. “Aw, why are you teasing? Can’t you see we’re eager to go?”
“I can see that,” you admit, because honestly if you had somehow managed to miss the blindingly obvious evidence of their arousal there would have to be something seriously wrong with you. “But we’re going to try something different tonight.”
“Take these off.” Bakugou finally says, reaching out and snapping at the waistband of Kirishima’s sweatpants.
Kirishima jumps, startled, as the elastic smacks into the skin of his lower stomach. “What?” he says a little dumbly, looking from you to Bakugou. Even though he’s a little slow on the uptake, he begins wriggling out of his sweatpants until he’s left in his special supportive jockstrap. The jock is already pretty wet with precum, and even though it’s been specifically designed with large and unusual penises in mind, it’s having trouble containing his straining erection.
Bakugou gazes at the overworked fabric, his gaze intense and unwavering. “That, too.”
“Okay.” Kirishima agrees, breathless. He seems to have come to the conclusion that it’s best to put aside his confusion for the time being and simply go with the flow, which is probably the best for the time being. When Bakugou decides that he wants something, you just have to go with it; to do otherwise would be like trying to fight a force of nature. Apparently anything longer than instantly is too long for Bakugou, and he lunges forward to help Kirishima take off the jock. Bakugou’s idea of helping seems more along the lines of ‘tearing it off’, but Kirishima seems to find the urgency flattering.
Once Kirishima is appropriately naked, Bakugou sits back and just looks at him. You understand that particular reaction all too well -- it’s easy to look at Kirishima’s dick and think that it’s super hot (because in all honesty it is) but it’s another thing when you’re looking at it when you know that it’s going to be inside of you imminently. Kirishima’s cock has a rather unique way of inspiring a fight or flight instinct in even the bravest of men, and you’re rather gratified by the fact that even Bakugou Katsuki isn’t immune to that little frisson of unease and self-doubt.
“Uh oh, second thoughts?” You ask, teasing softly. You know he’s not really second guessing himself, you know that he’ll push through every single one of his own personal hesitations just to prove a point, but you can also see that he doesn’t know how to actually go about initiating what he wants.
Predictably, he shoots you a scathing look. “Hardly, dumbass.” He says, but still makes no move to do or say anything else. Kirishima sits in front of him, also unmoving, looking innocently perplexed other than the enormous hard on eagerly leaking onto his lower belly.
Idiots, you think, impossibly fond of them both. “Eijirou,” you begin softly. Both of them look to you, and you don’t miss the poorly concealed look of relief in Bakugou’s eyes when you take control of the talking part. “You’re going to fuck Katsuki tonight.”
Bakugou makes a soft noise as Kirishima’s eyes shoot wide, though you don’t know if it’s because you’ve finally spoken his desire into existence or if it’s because you used his first name. Either way, it has his hand reaching between his legs to tug at the hard, unwavering length of his erection. Meanwhile, Kirishima looks utterly thunderstruck. His mouth hangs open, his jaw slack, as he slowly turns his head to look at his best friend. “What?” He says stupidly, his thought process clearly struggling to keep up. He always seems to be slower to catch onto things when he’s horny, and you wonder if it’s because of all the blood being diverted away from his brain to fill out his ridiculously enormous dick.
It’s usually pretty endearing, but you can see the way that Bakugou begins to shift a little nervously the longer it takes for Kirishima to properly react. “Yes or no?” You say quickly, before Bakugou’s antsiness gets the chance to manifest into outright impatience or embarrassment.
“Yes!” Kirishima says quickly, but then his gaze darts down to his own hard on and back to Bakugou. “But- I mean. Can you- are you sure that you’re able to- I mean-”
It’s pretty funny watching him flounder to ask Bakugou if he’s sure he’s physically capable of taking him without saying something that Bakugou may take offence to, especially as Bakugou’s eyes begin to narrow. “What?”
“He’s already ready for you.” You decide to pipe up. Bakugou whips around to glare at you for offering that particular bit of information up, but you ignore it because it’s not as if Kirishima wasn’t about to find out as soon as he reached around to touch him, anyway.
“Really?” Kirishima asks, quietly awed.
“Yeah, I’m not dumb.” Bakugou says with a quick wave of his hand. “And I’m also not a total masochist.”
“Okay.” Kirishima says. His face is slowly starting to light up as he finally seems to come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening. “Wow. Okay, wow.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever! Let’s go.” Bakugou snaps, his cheeks stained a pretty pink colour. “Stop fucking saying wow.”
You laugh, giddy excitement beginning to bubble up in your chest. You move to lean against the wall so you can watch from a fairly unobtrusive vantage point as Bakugou turns around so that his ass and back are facing Kirishima. They’re both excited for this, that much is obvious, but you still can’t quite shake off the belief that Bakugou has bitten off a little more than he can chew in this particular situation. Oh, well. Bakugou is the kind of person who learns by doing, you suppose.
Bakugou drops forward onto all fours, his back lightly arched and his face set and determined. If it weren’t for the fact that he was naked and hard as hell, you might think from his expression that he was about to beat down a particularly heinous criminal. Kirishima shuffles forward until he’s pressed flush against the back of his thighs, still looking vaguely as though he expects Bakugou to turn around and tell him that the entire situation was an elaborate prank. “You’re sure?” Kirishima says, his hand landing lightly on the outside of Bakugou’s hip and sliding gently up over his ribs.
“Obviously.” Bakugou drawls. Impressively, he seems to have wiped any trace of nerves cleanly out of his system. He looks like he always does when he’s about to face a challenge that he expects to crush; cocky, confident, and utterly single-minded. That particular look of sheer determination falters slightly as his gaze darts over to you, where you’re slouching against the wall watching. “The fuck are you all the way over there for?”
You raise your eyebrows. It hadn’t quite occurred to you that they might want you to take an active role in this, but Bakugou is frowning at you as though you’re a total idiot and Kirishima is making those silly little grabbing motions towards you again, his grin blinding. “Well, where do you want me to be?”
Bakugou narrows his eyes, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek. “Under me.” It’s phrased as an order but his voice ends in an almost imperceptible uptick, so it comes out sounding uncharacteristically unsure.
You hum as you climb up on the bed and slip underneath him, so that his arms are braced either side of your head and his knees are positioned in between your spread legs. You grin up at him, but he looks away with a little huff -- within seconds Kirishima’s head appears over his shoulder, and he offers you a grin so wide that you can see just about every single one of his sharp, shiny white teeth. You laugh at his goofy face, and feel hot liquid excitement settle in your belly and begin to simmer there as the reality of the situation begins to dawn on you. Bakugou’s hard on brushes against your navel as he shifts, leaving a little trail of precum on your skin. You’re startled to find yourself marveling at how little precum he produces; it’s kind of startling how quickly you’ve become used to Kirishima’s little sexual quirks as normal.
“Get on with it, shitty hair.” Bakugou snaps, the old nickname falling out of his mouth almost unconsciously. Kirishima’s hair is ungelled today, hanging loose over his brow and around his ears, although neither of you care to point this fact out. “Do you need me to draw you a map?”
Kirishima rolls his eyes. “Damn, man. Cool it with the attitude.”
You have no doubt that Bakugou is ready to snap back with another comment, but before he gets the chance to Kirishima’s large palms plant themselves down on Bakugou’s incongruously tiny waist as he ruts his hips experimentally against Bakugou’s ass. From your new and very comfortable vantage point, you get to see the look of realisation begin to sneak across Bakugou’s face; there is, after all, a pretty significant difference between deciding that you’re going to fuck Kirishima and actually feeling his cock press against you. The creeping cognizance of exactly how big Kirishima is can be nothing short of alarming, and nothing drives home that realisation faster than feeling the tip of his dick pressing against you.
If anything though, Bakugou’s initial moment of anxiety just seems to turn into more arousal. “Fuck.” He breathes quietly, his voice gone a little choked.
“How’s it feel?” You ask, half-teasing. You reach up and pet reassuringly at his shoulders and the side of his neck, feeling the solid muscle shift beneath your palm.
“Big.” It’s more of a groan than anything else, his scarlet eyes going a little glassy.
Behind him, Kirishima rumbles a low, genuinely amused chuckle. “I thought we already covered that.”
“Shut up. Just put it in.” Bakugou cranes his head over his shoulder, reaching to try and maneuver Kirishima himself. “Come on. I’m horny as hell, and I’m not gonna break. Stop fucking treating me like I’m [Y/N].”
You stiffen at that, and narrow your eyes. “I haven’t broken yet, asshole.”
“Whatever.” Bakugou rolls his head around to meet your scowl with a cocky smirk, “I’m gonna take it without whining like a bitch.”
Your irritated expression melts into a slow, anticipatory smile. “You’re gonna eat your words, Katsuki.” you croon up at him as Kirishima hooks his chin over his shoulder, biting his lip to stifle his own smile, “You’re gonna choke on them.”
Whatever Bakugou was planning on saying in return is interrupted by Kirishima dipping both thumbs into his ass and marvelling at the stretch. “Wow, you really did get yourself ready.” He says, and Bakugou exhales heavily as Kirishima grinds into him again. “Can I…?”
“Yes, just do it!” Bakugou unsuccessfully tries to shove his own hips back, his impatience written clear across his face.
Kirishima meets your gaze over Bakugou’s shoulder, his eyes wide and excited. ‘What the fuck!’ he mouths silently, still grinning. You smile back at him, trying hard not to laugh because Bakugou is also looking down at you. Being beneath the two of them is intimidating because they are both extremely large men, but also because they’re both staring at you and the weight of their combined gazes is really intense.
You can’t see what’s happening, but you know when Kirishima begins to press into Bakugou because both of their faces contort; Kirishima’s mouth drops open and his forehead crinkles, a ragged little moan escaping him, and Bakugou’s eyes shoot wide as he inhales sharply through his nose and apparently forgets to breathe out. “Oh god, oh fuck,” Kirishima whimpers, his head dropping down onto Bakugou’s shoulder. He’s trying to hold back to give Bakugou time to adjust, that much is obvious, but he seems a little more impatient than he usually is with you. While he’s being slow, his hips keep rutting forward in little aborted motions that lack the level of consideration that he usually takes with you -- but then again, Bakugou had insisted that he was able to take it.
You wonder if he’s beginning to second-guess himself; his jaw hangs slack and his eyes are wide and a little out of focus, his back beginning to hunch slightly as Kirishima presses forward. “Oh,” he grunts. His hands flex and fist into the sheets by your head, and he breathes hard through his nose. “Shit.”
Kirishima stills, though it’s clear that it takes a huge amount of effort. “Are you-” he pauses just short of asking Bakugou if he’s alright, and instead says, “Can I put in the rest?”
“The rest?” Bakugou says quickly, his voice several octaves higher than usual. “It’s not in yet?”
You start to laugh, and not even the murderous glare that Bakugou shoots your way can dampen your amusement. “Oh no, are you having trouble with just the tip?”
“I will kick your ass, dickhead. He’s entering somewhere that’s usually an exit, let him take it slow!” Bakugou plants his palm over your face and shoves you away so that you’re not looking directly at him before saying, “Whatever, put the rest in!”
Kirishima pays him no mind, instead peering at you over Bakugou’s shoulder. “I want you to feel good too.” He tells you, even though you can see the tension in his face and neck from forcing himself to stay still when every nerve in his body screamed at him to move. “Can Bakugou make you feel good?”
“I don’t know, can he?” You ask coyly, casting an eye down the length of Bakugou’s rigid body hovering above you; you doubt that Bakugou will have the presence of mind to pleasure you when Kirishima’s entire length is fucking inside of him.
As expected, Bakugou’s nostrils flare. “Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.” he snaps, one hand already slipping between your legs to tease at your clit. He blinks in surprise when his fingers slip along your slit. “Huh. You’re drenched.”
Your face heats up in embarrassment, but Kirishima’s face lights up with a wicked smile. “Is she?” he asks. His hand winds around the front of Bakugou’s hips, and you think for a moment that he’s going to touch you too. But then it’s Bakugou who stiffens with a bitten-back moan as Kirishima wraps a hand around his neglected hard-on and guides the tip of it to rub against your slick, eager pussy. Both you and Bakugou go still, surprised, as Kirishima quietly asks, “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” The word comes out on a moan as your head drops back to the sheets. You shift your hips and feel the tip of Bakugou’s cock slide just barely inside you. “Please!”
Bakugou swears, loud and vicious, as his hand comes to clamp down on your hip to keep you from fucking yourself onto him. “Fuck! Don’t do that, I’ll come-” he begins, but Kirishima chooses that moment to buck the rest of his own cock into Bakugou’s ass. The sudden harshness of the movement starts a chain reaction as Bakugou’s entire body is jolted forward, inadvertently pressing his own dick all the way inside you. He makes a sound like a wounded animal, his breathing ragged and heavy as his clutches at your hip. “Oh-! Shit, fuck, you absolute motherfucker-!”
Kirishima laughs breathlessly, his forehead dropping down to rest against Bakugou’s shoulder. “Taking too long.” he says, his words coming out syrupy and almost slurred. “God, feels so good…”
You can’t stop yourself from squirming a little, trying to get Bakugou’s dick just a little bit deeper; you had gotten used to the obscenely large size of Kirishima’s dick, and while Bakugou’s dick felt good, it wasn’t enough. Your squirming doesn’t get you very far though, because Bakugou’s grip on you tightens until he’s holding you firmly in place. “Stay still,” he grounds out, his voice ragged. His shoulders are hiked up around his ears as he breathes, and you wonder if it’s from pain or if he’s just so close to cumming right now that every touch straddles the line of too much. He swears again, and his head drops down onto your shoulder. “Feels like I’m gonna split in two.” He murmurs, voice tight.
“Poor baby,” you say, running a hand up along his shoulder blades. With his face buried into the crook of your neck like this, he’s unintentionally given you a perfect view of his arched back and raised ass. Like this, you can just about see where Kirishima is buried inside of him, the only part of his cock visible being the swollen, squishy area at the base. “If it’s too much, tell us, Katsuki.”
“S’not too much,” he mumbles into your neck, all the usual sharpness leached from his voice. “I can do it. It’s just… a lot. And you’re really fuckin’ soft inside, which isn’t fucking helping.” As if to emphasise his point he rocks his hips forward into you and then makes a weird little warbling sound into your ear.
Kirishima leans up and drapes himself along the length of Bakugou’s back, sending a wobbly grin your way. “I can’t- I have to-” His hips twitch, building into slow, rolling thrusts. “Bakugou- I need- Can I, Katsuki-?”
“Yeah.” Bakugou pants into your neck, the condensation of his breath gathering wetly against the flesh of your throat. “Yeah, fuck me.”
That’s all the permission Kirishima needs -- he lets out an excited little whimper before pulling out and shoving himself back inside all out once. The movement sends a jolt up Bakugou’s spine, and he sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t move his face from your throat. Kirishima begins a rough, quick pace, his muscled thighs flexing as he drives into Bakugou again and again. Every thrust seems to drive the breath out of Bakugou’s lungs, and he wriggles his arms under your shoulders and clutches you to him as the force of Kirishima’s fucking sends his whole body rocking into yours.
“So big, shit!” Bakugou manages to gasp out, finally regaining the presence of mind to breathe properly.
“Yeah?” Kirishima whimpers, looking proud. “You look so good like this, man, you feel so nice wrapped around me. Does it feel good?”
“Uh huh.” Bakugou dips his head so that his face is buried in your tits, his ass raised even higher. “Fuck!”
Everytime Kirishima fucks into Bakugou he pushes Bakugou’s hips sharply into yours, until all three of you are essentially fucking each other in a daisy chain reaction. You writhe beneath Bakugou, squirming and working your hips back and forth along the length of Bakugou’s dick as he fucks you to the same rhythm that he’s being fucked to himself. “Harder.” You beg, hiking your legs up over Bakugou’s hips and squeezing tight as you’re both rocked by Kirishima.
Bakugou makes a muffled noise that is possibly encouragement. His hips oscillate wildly between thrusting back to meet Kirishima’s snapping pelvis and forward into your own wet heat, like he can’t decide between the two. There’s something impossibly intoxicating about being able to watch Kirishima positively ploughing into Bakugou’s ass, hunched over his back and clutching his waist and panting from the exertion, and simultaneously being able to feel how hard and fast he’s fucking him. You know you’re clenching up from the way Bakugou moans brokenly into your tits; your chest feels suspiciously wet, and you have a feeling that he’s actually being fucked so good that he’s drooling on you.
Despite the fact that Kirishima is jackrabbiting his hips into Bakugou so hard that Bakugou’s whole body is bouncing with the speed and force of it, Bakugou’s hips grind into yours at a slightly slower pace: his cock rubs insistently along every inch of the inside of your pussy every time a thrust knocks him forward again, grinding unrelentingly deep. Kirishima is visibly starting to fall into that mindlessly horny haze that means he’s getting close to cumming, but he still has the presence of mind to reach down and intertwine one of his hands with yours, the other gripping Bakugou’s hip as he guides him back and forth on his cock.
Neither of them are going to last long; it’s obvious from Kirishima’s desperate open-mouthed panting and the way he hunches over as his thrusting starts to turn messy, and it’s obvious from Bakugou’s raggedy breathing and his equally messy attempts to fuck further into you as he messily sucks at one of your tits.
What you’re not expecting, however, is how quickly your own orgasm is creeping up on you. This particular position isn’t super conducive to your own pleasure, but being fucked like this while having such strong visual stimulation is nice -- the pleasure isn’t bright or burning or all-consuming, but it’s building, and rapidly. Kirishima turning Bakugou into a gasping, sweaty mess on top of you is apparently a massive turn-on for you, which comes as a mild (but very pleasant) surprise, and you can’t stop yourself from jamming a hand down the middle of you and Bakugou so you can rub frantically at your clit.
The heat and weight of Bakugou plastered to your front is blistering, and every time Kirishima whines and fucks him forward into you it sends little jolts of pleasure shooting through you. Bakugou moans into your breastbone, and it sounds like he’s choking, as if he’s being fucked so thoroughly that his body has forgotten basic functions like how to breathe, and you find it so ridiculously hot that you let out an answering moan.
To your honest surprise, you cum first. Your orgasm rips through you with an intensity that leaves you genuinely startled, your body convulsing and arching as your mouth drops open soundlessly. “Oh!” is all you manage to gasp out, your hand clenching tight around Kirishima’s.
“Yes, baby!” Kirishima pants, his face bright and excited and extremely aroused, as delighted as ever at the chance to watch you lose yourself. “Oh- shit, I’m gonna- I’m close-!”
Bakugou’s head snaps up from your chest all of a sudden, his eyes blowing wide. “Is it getting bigger? Fuck, is it getting bigger?”
The extra inch Kirishima’s cock tends to grow when he comes is a sign that he’s just about to spill, though you could have guessed that from the way that his eyes have gone unfocused as the motion of his hips stutter and falter. You realise that this is Bakugou’s first time experiencing it, since he’s only ever seen Kirishima come when he’s buried inside of you.
Kirishima, meanwhile, is babbling away about how good he feels, about how good you and Bakugou feel and how good you two look. He lets out a high-pitched keening sound and then his whole body locks up as he strains against his orgasm, his hips spasming wildly. Bakugou makes a muffled sound into the sweaty, drool-slick skin of your chest, as he comes inside of you in turn, apparently driven over the edge by the combined sensation of Kirishima’s engorging cock and the veritable buckets of cum being emptied inside of him. You can feel the sticky, gooey slickness of Kirishima’s cum dripping onto your skin and the bedsheets. As always, it makes a mess, but the three of you are slumped boneless against each other, with no energy left to spare to so much as move a muscle, never mind to clean up.
Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time, Bakugou reaches around to shove Kirishima off of him with a groan. A visible wince passes over his face as Kirishima pulls out, accompanied by a veritable gush of cum as it spills out onto the bedsheets. “Shit. goddamn, that is so much fucking cum.” Bakugou mumbles, slumping over into the sheets and twisting away from the mess.
Kirishima worms his way over between the two of you so he can cuddle you both at once, his expression joyfully blissed out and lacking any sort of embarrassment. “I love you guys.” He says, nuzzling at the side of your sweaty face and patting affectionately at Bakugou’s shoulder.
You know from experience that the aftermath of taking Kirishima for the first time is uncomfortable at the least. You only have barely a moment to feel sympathy for Bakugou and his asshole before he looks down and grins hazily at you. “Told you I could take it.”
Your sympathy practically vanishes on the spot. “The only reason you could take it that good is because I practically fisted you beforehand.” You point out, totally irritated by the fact that he’s chosen to apparently forget about all your hard work.
Kirishima’s gaze jumps between the two of you, exhausted and bewildered. “What the hell happened while you were in the bathroom?” He asks, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. His gaze travels lazily over the cum staining all three of you, and obviously thinks of the way you two had arrived naked into the sitting room together to practically corner him. “Actually,” he amends, stretching his arms over his head. His dick is rapidly softening, though it doesn’t look any less intimidating; you catch Bakugou staring at it, his expression visibly awed as he clearly marvels at how it had ever fit inside of him. “I don’t think I want to know. You two are so weird.”
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I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki
All Parts:
Part 3:
“Okay, so that’s about it.” You smile brightly, pressing a band-aid into the boy’s skin. “Thanks for being so brave for me!”
“Mhm. I’m the bravest!”
The child before you beams, all teeth gaps and kicking legs as he bounces in his seat. You’d just given him a few routine vaccinations, and true to your praise, he had been very brave about it. All he’d done was sit there, holding his breath until his face went red, and trying not to grimace. It reminded you of someone else you’d recently treated- someone else who was currently blazoned in all his snarling glory on the little boy’s shirt.
“Oh, I’m sure! Just like Dynamite!” You agree enthusiastically, gesturing to his clothes. You turn your head, catching his mother’s eye from where she sits next to him. “Isn’t that right, mom?”
“Oh, not if I can help it.” She smiles something a little exhausted, but ultimately fond as her son starts making explosion noises. “Not if I can help it.”
If you’re being completely honest, you sort of agree with her. Just a little bit- actually, on second thought a lot.
“If that’s everything and you have no other concerns for me, then we’re about done here.” You say gently. “Do you know where you’re going? I can point you toward reception again if you need it.”
“No, we’re alright, thank you!”
You nod, holding the door open for them as they leave.
When the door closes, and you’re swept back up into silence, you can’t help but think of that interaction as just more proof- more proof that no matter where you were, no matter what you were doing, you absolutely could not escape Bakugou.
When you weren’t actively thinking about him, then you were seeing his face everywhere. He was on television, and he was on the cover of newspapers, and as evidenced, he was printed in perfect grumbling, snarling accuracy on children’s t-shirts. It didn’t help either that every day brought another civilian who was saved by him, and every night brought another small-time criminal who was beat to hell by his fists. You swore he was responsible for a solid 70% of all of your hospital’s traffic- it was pure insanity when you really started paying attention.
You quickly come to realize that Bakugou is a plague; and a horrifyingly effective one at that. You’re not sure how you never noticed it before.
Still, you can’t help but find yourself worrying a little bit. When you think of him, all you can see is his face covered in blood, the pallid hue of his skin under the hospital’s sterile lighting, and the deep-set bags under his eyes. You remember the way he practically fell asleep, laid out and injured on a hospital table. The way he was drifting while you were digging a needle and thread through his skin.
Thinking back on it always makes you a bit sick. No one who wasn’t absolutely exhausted would ever fall asleep in a hospital- especially not in the middle of being sewn up. When you match that to the anger and terror you’d felt, that very first night you’d ever met him, it doesn’t paint a pretty picture. You come to realize that even if Bakugou was an asshole to you, you still wouldn’t wish that kind of mental torture on anybody.
Your rest of your week goes by quickly after that, and by the time Saturday rolls around, you’ve gathered quite a few bones to pick with him. It seemed the amount of criminals you were patching up was only increasing, and their injuries were only getting worse too. Each passing day only brings more lowly criminals and thieves flooding into your hospital, all covered in the same scorch marks, broken bones, and dark bruising. It was overkill, plain and simple, and you knew exactly who the culprit was.
You began to think that, even if it was Bakugou’s job, he really shouldn’t have been digging graves for people who were just stealing purses. There was a massive difference between a super villain and a petty thief, but he didn’t seem to understand that. Dynamite punished everybody just the same. You saw that first hand.
Still, you try to shake off those lingering frustrations. You were on your way to take out his stitches, and you didn’t want to accidently bring them up. Bakugou only mildly tolerated you the last time around, but you were sure that generosity would cease the moment you criticized anything about him. True to his quirk, Bakugou had proven himself to be a teetering powder keg- just a little bit of friction, and he’d explode on the spot.
“On your way to help his majesty?” Your superior remarks, smiling sardonically as you pass her. “Good luck, I’ll be praying for you! Try your best to come back with your head still intact, yeah?”
You nod, smiling uneasily, but your stomach turns a little bit.
That had been another reoccurring theme that week- jokes about how your impending doom was imminent. Apparently, Bakugou had been making a name for himself for years now- a name that was a lot less loved by your hospital then it was the rest of the outside world. You’d been hearing horror stories for days now; tale after twisted tale of nurses and doctors getting chewed up and spit out by his bad temper. It always read as a little strange to you though; in every story you’d heard, he was either hardly injured or on his death bed- no in-between whatsoever. You figure that it didn’t really matter though, the result was always the same. Relentless, explosive anger.
Which you sort of begun to think you were in for, when you opened the door to his scowling face.
“Hey!” You greet unsurely, trying to walk into the room with a confidence you didn’t really feel. Moving past him, you rinse your hands, drying them and then slipping on a pair of latex gloves. You then pull the medical cart over to him, taking out the blood pressure cuff. Just like his last visit. “You ready to get those stitches removed?”
“Yeah. Obviously. Why the fuck else would I waste my time here? Witch.”
Yep. There it is- just what the other nurses and staff were warning you about. His attitude.
“Oh. Okay, so I see we are still using that nickname. Great.” You mutter wrapping the cuff around his arm. You fall back, crossing your arms as you wait to jot down his vitals. There’s angry tension rolling off of him, and you smile uneasily, trying to discharge it with a subject change. “On an entirely different note, though, I did want to congratulate you.”
Bakugou just scoffs, turning up his nose. A beat passes and then he folds, minutely nodding at you to continue.
“You’re not covered in any blood this time! Congrats!” You say breezily, unwrapping the cuff from around his arm. “Guess the third time really is the charm for us, huh?”
Bakugou just looks away, hardly even acknowledging you as he rolls his eyes. You think you see his lip twitch though- just a bit, and it only lasts half a second, but you count it as a success.
“So, any worries about the stitches? You been cleaning them as instructed?” You ask, gently taking his forearm in your hands. You remove the bandages and gauze with feather-light touches. “Wow, you must’ve been. They look pretty good to me.”
When you look up at him, he’s got that same prideful smirk you’d seen before; it doesn’t distract you from his condition though. His skin somehow looks paler than before, skin purple and darkened under his eyes. You see the cut on his head, still hardly healed and scabbed over. He’s overworking himself, but you didn’t need to have any medical background to see that.
“Obviously they look good. You think I’m fuckin’ stupid?” He says.
“No, but I really did think you would’ve exacerbated them by now. Especially with all the hero work you’ve been doing. Which, believe me, I know is a lot.”
“What- you stalking me now or somethin’?”
“Not exactly. Me or somebody else here always end up treating all those people you save.” You tell him, setting his arm down on the empty surface of the medical cart. You try to keep your voice light, keep it entirely void of anything accusatory, but you can’t help your next words. “And every person you beat into the ground.”
Bakugou’s eye twitches when you look at him. He breathes deep, eyebrows creasing.
“Oi- somethin’ you wanna fuckin’ say to me?” He utters, eyes glinting like blistering wildfire. He leans forward, flipping his palm up towards you as it begins to crackle. “Better choose your next words real fuckin’ carefully.”
It’s his tone that catches you off-guard.
You knew it was a stupid move, your comment, but the pure poison in his response surprises you anyway. His voice is dark and angry, smoldering like a low heat as he stares you down. The words are vicious thing, a gripping threat that drips from his mouth, seeming to bite back around his teeth as he speaks it. It makes you shrink. You think that it would probably make even the strongest people shrink.
“No. It’s- I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” You apologize professionally, pasting on your best appeasing smile even as you fight off the anxiety. There’s nothing left to do but try to defuse the situation- so you turn away from him, busying yourself with grabbing a discard tray and your stitching kit. “It’s really wasn’t my business. Shouldn’t have said anything. Sorry.”
Bakugou just huffs at that, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. He somehow looks even more annoyed than before and you don’t know what he wants from you. Doesn’t he know how intimidating he is? Why does he even bother acting surprised when people fold for him? Especially if he chooses to address them like that?
You wish you were the sort of person who could stand up to him- the sort of person who could put him in his place. After all, there was no room for arrogance in a hospital, and you’d always thought egotism to be a selfish waste of valuable time. But, even so, you just couldn’t be that person this time. There was a lot you could power though, but you’d never seen hot-and-cold anger like his before. He wasn’t like any of your other difficult patients- none of their threats ever sounded like promises.
There’s tense silence as you start removing the stitches, only the sound of your scissors and Bakugou’s own breaths. You try to keep your hands steady, try to keep focused, but you’re finding it hard to keep still under his intense gaze. You feel he’s looking right through you again, waiting for any excuse to blow up again.
You’re almost done removing them entirely when he huffs, rolling his eyes as he shifts uncomfortably.
“You’re so fucking sensitive, you know. It’s pathetic.”
You stiffen.
There’s a lot you’re willing to put up with- being underappreciated and overworked was pretty much your entire job after all- but Bakugou was really wearing on you. He wasn’t the first patient to insult you, and his comment was far from the worst thing you’d ever been told; but it’s something in the way he spits the insult. Sly and challenging like he knows something you don’t. It makes you look up at him, and all you see are his sharp canines. His smirk and the way he looks down on you.
He’s picking a fight, but there’s no threat. He’s testing you.
It makes your blood boil.
“If you don’t like me, and the way I do my work,” You bite out, staring right back and speaking through own clenched teeth. “Then you shouldn’t have asked for me. No one made you come back.”
“I told you, witch. No cutting corners. You put the fuckers in my arm, you take them the fuck out.”
“Why are you fighting with me?” You ask, swallowing as you try not to shy away from his glare. “I told you last time, if this works better for you silent, then just say that.”
He flares his nostrils at that, setting his jaw. When he goes silent, you go back to snipping away his stitches. At this point, you just wanted to finish as quickly as possible.
“Silent is fuckin’ boring.” He grits, flexing his fingers. It makes the skin on his forearm shift, throwing off your work. When you look at him in frustration, you can see he did it on purpose. “It’s wimp shit.”
“Pardon?”
“I said-” He leans in close, voice low and venomous. It feels like he’s trying to paralyze you with his stare alone, sitting up straight until he’s glaring down at you. “Silence is boring. You’re fucking boring.”
You’d had a long day- you’d had a very long day and he was being extremely rude and your patience was wearing thin hours ago. That’s why you let him break your careful composure- at least, that’s what you tell yourself.
“Oh yeah, I’m boring?” You ask in frustration, entire face warming in fury. “I’m boring? Really! At least I don’t spend my entire day blowing things up and beating people half to death!”
Bakugou blinks. He blinks, sucks a breath, and then you watch his smirk crawl slow and sure across the entirety of his face. He got you. He got you to break, and he won, and he knows it.
He knows it and he settles back on his good hand, leaning away to get a better look at your flustered face. He cocks his head to the side, studying and analytical for a moment. He nods.
“There. We’re fuckin’ even.”
“Excuse me?”
“Even. You shouldn’t have fuckin’ pried around in my head and not expected me to pry in yours.”
“That’s what this is about?” You sigh incredulously, putting your scissors down on the medical cart. “Really? You’re still on that- how- how does this even tell you what’s in my head? You’re just insulting me. It doesn’t!”
“It does.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then why are you so fuckin’ pissed right now? Hah?” He squints his eyes, voice smooth and dripping with arrogance. “It’s cause I’m right. You’re so fuckin’ boring when you play nice all the time.”
“Play nice? What the hell are you even on about? You don’t know me.”
“I know that you piss me the hell off bein’ fake. If I fuckin’ irritate you then say so. Don’t put on your fuckin’ kid gloves and try and be professional. It’s weak.”
“No. It’s how I keep my job. Which you know, you wouldn’t understand, because you literally pick fights for a living!” You huff, pushing the medical cart off to the side and stepping back from him. “Actually- you know what, no. I’m done with this. This conversation. Your stitches are out, and you can leave since you obviously can’t stand me and would rather be anywhere but here.”
You watch him flare his nostrils again, a snarl ripping from his mouth. He slams his closed fist down on the hospital bed, eyes like blazing conflagration. Bakugou looks pissed, but more than anything he looks vulnerable. Worn raw.
“I can’t.” He grits.
“Yes! You actually can! Just walk out! Literally just walk out an-’
“God, you’re so fucking dense! I can’t leave without figuring out how the fuck you do it!”
“Do what?” You nearly scream, your owns hands beginning to clench into fists.
“I need to know.” He repeats again, hopping off the hospital bed.
His feet hit the ground, steps like rolling thunder as he nears, broad shoulders and muscular arms casting an intimidating shadow. Bakugou looks like an angry bull storming toward you. Like he’ll obliterate you given even half the chance.
“Take your fucking gloves off.”
You’re scared now, eyes darting over to the door. You knew nobody was doing rounds in the luxury wing right now, and sound didn’t pass through walls that were made to ensure silence. Heart racing in your chest, you size him up, try to think of a way to escape but he’s so close to you and he’s built like a linebacker and-
“Jesus christ. Not like that. Fuckin’ idiot.” He growls, hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He stops a few feet in front of you, sneering. “You’re not my fuckin’ type, so don’t flatter yourself. Now, grow the fuck up and take them off before I do it for you.”
You’re not sure what makes you listen, maybe it’s fear, maybe it’s something else, but either way you listen. You pull a glove off, just barely dropping it on the counter before Bakugou speaks again.
“I’m gonna touch your hand- but do not use your quirk. Don’t even think about using it. Just fucking stand there. And don’t freak the fuck out and put up a fight about it. You’re just gonna waste time.”
You nod, hand shaking as you extend it. Bakugou seems to roll his eyes at that, but he surges forward anyways, fingers meeting yours.
You feel it almost immediately. Your heart speeds up, but just slightly, beginning beat against your chest where it had just barely been grazing it before. You breathe deep, close you eyes, focus in on the buzzing of your skin- the way your bones sing of subtle fire. It’s barely there but it feels like warmth. Reminds you of that night, with Bakugou, when you were burning alive. Reminds you of how your bones felt too large and your skin felt too small and there somehow wasn’t enough room in the entire world to hold the weight of your rage.
“You ambient fucking bitch.” Bakugou swears under his breath. When you look at him, he’s fluttering his own eyes open, dropping your hand like it burned him.
Then he steps back and you’re gasping for air. It’s not entirely back again- but it’s reminiscent. There’s an inkling of that bone-deep exhaustion. That weariness that so often stole the air from you lungs and the ground beneath your feet.
“Your quirk. It’s ambient. Through your skin.”
You shrink back even more, blinking owlishly up at him.
“What? You didn’t fucking know? Jesus, how clueless are you?”
“It’s-I-” You drop your head, running a hand through your hair. “I never- I always wear gloves. Always. And long sleeves. Since I was little. Never wanted to take the chance- how did you even know.”
Bakugou seems to turn his nose up at your question. He steps back, further and farther until his back hits the hospital bed. There’s distance but somehow he keeps the air just as charged, averting his eyes when he speaks next.
“Went to sleep. A week ago. When I saw you-”
“What? Bakugou that doesn’t- you’re not-”
“If you’d let me fuckin’ finish,” He glares down at you again, trying to beat you into submission with eye-contact alone. It works and you fall silent, holding your breath as he resumes. “You put me to sleep. Then and three months ago. I haven’t slept peacefully like that in fuckin’ years. So obviously you used your quirk on me. It’s easy. A fuckin’ moron could’ve figured it out.”
“No- but I didn’t touch you! Well, the first time, yeah, I did, but not a week ago. I was wearing gloves and I-”
“When I told you to do the splint over, the sleeve of your coat rode up.” He grits out, cheeks slightly flushing as he averts his eyes. “Then I almost fell asleep. Not like the first time, but still. Asleep. So obviously it’s your fuckin’ skin.”
Suddenly, the ground is ripped out from under you.
Your entire life you’d always been tired. Day in and day out, constantly dragging your feet like you could never get enough sleep. Like there wasn’t enough hours in the day for you to live and be rested.
Was it your quirk this entire time? Were you somehow ambiently draining people of their pain- even if you just accidentally brushed their skin with yours?
You don’t know how you never realized it. How you never put two and two together.
You’d spent your entire life purposefully using your quirk to help people- had then sacrificed days and weeks of your life afterwards tucked away in bed and sleeping off the exhaustion. When you used your power on purpose, depending on the severity of someone’s pain, it would debilitate you. But you still did it- over and over and over again because you wanted to help people. Because you knew you could and that became the only reason you needed.
You’d always just assumed your constant exhaustion to be aftershocks of how often you used your quirk- you never even considered the possibility that it was something you were doing unintentionally. That you were draining yourself with every hug and handshake and high-five that should’ve made you feel better.
You’d always sort of disliked being touched. Somehow always walked away with your skin prickling uncomfortably for as long as you could remember. You just never knew why until now.
“Oi- I thought I told you not to freak the fuck out.”
“It’s- how the hell am I not supposed to freak out about this?” You gasp, hands braced behind you on the counter. “I didn’t know! My entire life! And you met me like, what, twice and you figured it out and- Are you falling asleep right now?”
In your spiral Bakugou had somehow ended back up on the hospital bed. He was still sat up, but his shoulders were completely slumped over and his eyes were half-lidded. He looked completely drained of all previous anger, swaying slightly as he blinked himself back to perfect alertness.
“Yeah. Probably.” He grumbles. “It’s your fuckin’ fault.”
“You barely touched me! How the hell is-”
“Don’t ask me, you fuckin’ leech.” He yawns, hand closed into a fist as he rubs at his eyes. “You’re the one with the stupid goddamn quirk. Not me.”
“That’s- sorry. I didn’t know. Holy shit,” You curl arms around your stomach, eyes widening. “Have I been doing this shit to everyone? My entire life?”
Bakugou groans. Audibly. Loudly.
“You’re the stupidest goddamn idiot on the face of the planet. Swear to fuck, I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
“You’re not helping!” You exclaim. “It was rhetorical question! Excuse me for freaking out right now- I’m sure you’d freak out too if you suddenly found out you were osmosis-ing people’s emotions your entire life!”
“Heh.”
“God, and just what the hell are you laughing about? This isn’t funny!”
“Osmosis.” He reiterates, mouth drawn up into a shit-eating grin. “Change your quirk name. To osmosis. Alleviate is shitty and stupid and it makes you sound fucking dumb.”
You bristle again, suddenly shaking any and all tiredness, rounding on him as you seethe.
“You- you are a goddamn asshole! You know that?” You start, stopping just a few feet in front of him. “You come in here, and insult me. Call me boring! In my own fuckin’ workplace! While I’m literally taking your stitches out! And then you tell me how my quirk works- somehow have the audacity to be fucking right about it, and now you’re insulting me? Again?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re just sitting there, completely fine, smiling like there’s something funny! This isn’t funny! I’m not funny! This is my life- which you literally have been bulldozing through for months now- are you falling asleep? Again? No! No! Not in my- wake the fuck up! Asshole!”
You’re snapping in his face, just inches away from his eyes, and Bakugou hardly even blinks. He just sits still, calm and sated as you seethe just inches away from him. You huff in absolute hatred and that finally shocks some life into him. He smiles. Tiny and barely-there, but he smiles.
“See, not so nice anymore. Knew you weren’t. Fuckin’ liar.”
You want to scream. You want to tear your hair out and maybe take Bakugou’s too, and scratch and claw until you’re bathing in all the rage you’d accidentally stolen from him. You can’t though- you can’t because suddenly the sun starts to set. It falls behind the horizon line, seeping the gold from his skin and drowning him in sterile, white, artificial pallid-ness. His skin goes translucent and the only color in the entirety of his image are the bags under his eyes. Well, the bags under his eyes and the stark red of the barely-healed slice on his forehead.
You curse your own heart. Nearly collapse under the weight of your own sympathy. Bakugou was an asshole, an absolute, irredeemable dick, and you still wanted to heal him. Help him. Somehow. Miraculously.
So then you’re centering yourself, rubbing a hand down your face to soothe your wound-up features.
“God, you actually do look pretty bad.” You say, all attempts at grace and keeping it professional completely gone. “You really weren’t kidding about needing to sleep, huh?”
“No shit. Leech.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. That’s fine. Trade one mean nickname for another- I mean, hey, at least this one’s accurate right?”
Bakugou does actually exhale a laugh at that remark, limbs a flurry of chaotic movement when he throws himself back on the bed. His head hits the pillow and it’s only seconds before he’s shutting his eyes.
“So, what, you’re just, like, sleeping now?” You ask, rolling your eyes.
“Yeah.”
“You can’t.”
“I can.”
“This is a hospital, Bakugou.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” He mumbles, yawning into his hand. “‘m fuckin’ Dynamite. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”
“I’m sorry- do you, do you actually think you can ego your way out of rules? Seriously? You can’t sleep here! Not unless you’re critically injured and need like, round-the-clock care.”
He stills, breath evening and you think he’s fallen asleep. Then he’s lazily bringing a hand up, pointing it loosely at his head.
“I’m critically fuckin’ injured.”
“No- you’re not. That’s a cut and it’s already healing and-”
“I need round-the-clock care.”
“Oh my god, are you kidding me?”
“No.” He grunts, flopping as he turns away from you. Then he’s facing the wall, nuzzling into the pillow. “I’m tired.”
“It’s-” You start, but then you’re once again falling victim to your own empathy. One look at his translucent skin is all it takes. “Fine. You know what? I don’t give a shit. Do what you want, I guess. Nobody else is using these rooms.”
“Okay. Leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“Get the fuck out.” He slurs, cheek pressed up against the pillow as his eyes flutter beneath his eyelids. “Bein’ too loud. Leave.”
“Fine. Enjoy your sleep. Jerk.”
“Leech.”
You nearly punch him in frustration- until you realize that would probably only relax him more; because apparently this really is Bakugou’s world and you were the unlucky one just living in it.
He’s out before you’re even finished packing up. You’re wiping down all the surfaces either of you had touched, just about to leave, when he starts snoring. It’s a soft, almost kitten-like sound, just barely audible over your own breathing. It pisses you off. Boils your blood in your veins because it’s so goddamn humanizing even when he acts like the anti-christ with an even worse temper. It’s stupidly endearing and ridiculously sobering and incredibly, incredibly irritating.
That stupid sound is why you double back upon leaving the room. Why you’re suddenly choosing to reverse instead of moving forward, why you’re suddenly reaching into the cupboard instead of shutting the door behind you.
When you carefully unfold the blanket, settling it gently over his sleeping form, there’s only one thing on your mind.
Fuck being an empath.
--/--
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