#I finally finished my classes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago

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fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

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Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions.

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food."

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy.

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him.

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that."

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again.

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?)

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up.

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly.

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from.

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite.

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing.

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.”

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows.

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?”

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?”

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.”

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved.

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.”

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything?

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted.

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him #this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class #it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a #cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next #its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water #it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance #how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling #backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna #have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact #imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine #danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the #'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al #so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne

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koolades-world · 2 months ago

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do you think we'd be together in every life?

volume one: everyday life; satan

in which you and your lover are brought together over and over again no matter the timeline, no matter the circumstances

"Satan, do you think we'd be together in every life?" You asked him.

"I know for certain the answer is yes. I'd find you no matter what." He responded.

...

You'd been enjoying your morning so far. You'd actually gotten up early, and decided to make the most of it. You didn't rush through your routine, and you even had time to complete all of the aesthetic things you normally didn't have time for. Somehow, you still had time leftover before your first class of the day even though it had felt like you'd spent forever awake already. Is that what early bird felt like on a daily basis?

You decided to spent your time at a cafe on campus that normally had a line out the door. Since you were awake early, you got there around the time they opened, and you had what was easily the best breakfast and coffee you'd had all semester. You never tell her, but it rivaled that of your mother's. Too bad it was way too expensive to justify buying on a daily basis. Since you had easily the best table in the entire establishment, you decided to savor it, and do some work there despite having a previous plan.

A sudden realization hit you like bricks as you caught sight of the time on your laptop. You'd lost track of time and at this rate, you were going to be late to Philosophy again. Being late once was bound to happen. While twice was a little questionable, the person in question deserved the benefit of the doubt. But thrice? You were sure this was going to count against you this time.

The reason you'd have to give would be even more embarrassing. Losing track of time in a cafe on campus while be 'aesthetic' is easily the worst excuse you felt you'd ever have to give. At least your alarm failing to go off, or getting a flat bike tire isn't your fault (or so, at least you tried to argue). But losing track of time? It was something you did more often than you'd like to admit, and wasn't going to get you out of a penalty.

While trying your best not to spill your coffee, you threw everything into your bag, and dashed out the door. Class started in ten minutes, but the walk usually took you fifteen. If you sped walked/ran the entire way, you should get there on time. You flew through campus, glancing at your watch, watching the seconds tick by. You let out a sigh of relief when you reached your destination two minutes before class was due to begin. You walked into the room, not really caring what you looked like. To your horror, half the class looked back at you to the sound of the door opening. Class had already begun.

According to the clock, you were on time, but for whatever reason, the professor that never started early, had today. At least she didn't single you out. With a mental sigh, you shuffled into the room, and took the only open seat. It was close to the end of the row, so thankfully you didn't have to scoot past so many people, but unfortunately it was in the front row. To your left sat a girl with her stationaries surrounding her like a cult leader might surrounded themselves with followers. She sent you a side glare when you accidently nudged one of them. To your right sat a boy with nothing on the table in front of him but a notebook and pen. He paid you no mind.

You broke out your own supplies and tuned into the lecture as best as you could. Philosophy had never been your strong suit, but you needed that credit. You took notes as best as you could, knowing later you'd be reviewing them in confusion. When it came time to do group work that you dreaded so much, you realized that somehow, in the time you weren't there, everyone else had already figured out their new groups.

In this class, the professor would assign group for the unit for you to discuss the various prompts she'd assign that not only functioned as a way to learn, but a way to count as attendance. It would be perfect if not for one thing: the groups were random. You'd been fortunate enough the first time to get an engaged group of people who'd taken their time to help you understand the material. You wouldn't be so lucky every time around, though.

After asking the professor, you discovered the boy to your right was the only present member of your group at the moment. "So, it's just you and me then?" You retook your seat.

"Seems like it." He took the prompt paper, and extended it to you to sign your name on.

"I'm Mc. I'm going to warn you now, I'm not the best in this class. I pay attention, and I do all the work. It just doesn't click up here." You tapped a finger to your forehead.

"That's alright. I don't mind helping you. I understand everything." While this felt like a subtle flex at first, you were just grateful he was nice, and was willing to help you out. "I'm Satan." He extended a hand out to you to shake. It caught you by surprise, but you did it anyways as to not seem rude. You took this chance to get a better look at him. His hair was blond, and seemed effortlessly styled. You'd already seen him card his hands through it a couple times, and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't ridiculously attractive. His eyes met your, and you were greeted with a vibrant green that perfectly matched the sweater vest he was wearing. His glasses perfectly suited his face, and the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards upon you taking his hand did something to you.

"I appreciate it." Not only was he beautiful, it seemed like he was nothing short of a genius the way he easily explained everything to you despite having so many interjections and questions. He was your angel.

By the time the professor came around to pick who'd be sharing their explanation for the prompt, you felt as if you wouldn't be floundering if you were picked. You weren't, but you could thank your group member for your new self confidence. When the explanation was given, he nudged you and smiled. It was something you hadn't been expecting, just like before, but you smiled back. Class was over shortly after that, and you packed up your things.

"How'd you feel about that?" Satan asked you.

"Pretty good! The best I've felt all semester easily. Thank you." You never looked forward to this class, but now, at least you had a reason to. Being able to understand the content was a game changer, and the fact that Satan was a model didn't hurt.

"It was no problem. I'm just glad to help." The two of you went silent for a moment, before he spoke up again. "Are you busy after this?" You blanked for a moment, struggling to process what he had asked.

"Uh, no. I have one more class today, but that's not until this afternoon." You didn't know what was more unbelievable: that you were struggling to remember something as basic as your schedule, or that Satan seemed to be asking you out. Normally, you'd be more apprehensive to advances that rapid, but something about him felt right. Something about him drew you in, and you could tell you were having the same effect on him.

"Great! Do you want to get something to eat, possibly?" He sounded a bit shy, which was a side of him you hadn't seen yet.

"That sounds perfect. Where did you have in mind?"

"I was hoping you'd have an idea." It seemed as if he hadn't planned on getting that far.

"Just follow me." You stood up. Before you could get going, you caught a glance at his lock screen. It was an adorable car perched onto of an open textbook. "Is that your cat?" You pointed.

"Yes! This is Belphie the Second, but I always call him Bel, because Belphie is my brother's name." He gushed about the gray kitty that was staring up into the camera.

With excitement, you turned on your phone towards him to show him a picture of your own cat in a costume. From the way he entire demeanor melted from having an air of seriousness to something much more mushy let you know you'd absolutely made the right choice.

The room was mostly empty at that point. You were the last to enter, and it seems like you'd be the last to leave as well. At least you wouldn't be leaving alone this time.

#now that this class is finally over #i can share this! this was inspired by a guy i was grouped with in philosophy who was deffo into me #is this mc just me and my delusions? perhaps lol. did i finish this in one sitting? yeah guilty as charged #gn reader #do you think we'd be together in every life?#volume one: everyday life #obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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