#and i dead ass had to remind her i was trans the other day like??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ficauthor · 3 years ago

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inspired by the prompt by @danphanwritingprompts:

Danny narrowed his eyes as the Uber arrived at the church, and he finally remembered the occasion. “Wait, Mom? Did we just pregame Vlad’s funeral?” Danny asked. Maddie scowled. “Shut up and act sober. For some reason, your dad loved that miserable creep,” she told him. “It’s the only way to get through the day,” Jazz agreed, fumbling to open the door and step out.

and some other headcannons that I've seen float around tumblr about trans Danny fic below cut if you dont wanna follow the link.

Looking out the window was making him nauseous, like really really nauseous. The kind of nauseous he only got when sick or from a good punch. He knew a thing or two about good punches. He’d been taking them for a few years now.

It really wasn’t fair if you asked him. One should ask him because it was an experience that only he could experience. After all, halfa's were rare as can be. Skulker had certainly told him enough for him to know. Every brush with alcohol in his younger days was, well, a mixed bag. He processed it faster than the average person so he was lucky in that aspect that he got drunk faster. But if anything his messing about with alcohol before he was 21 told him it was that it also left much faster than normal. Bullshit ghost rules and all of that. Genuinely being a ghost even half one had very few upsides. Some people online speculated about how cool ghost powers must be to have but clearly none of them knew about the burden that it came with. Sometimes he still wished that he didn’t know.

However this time for whatever reason the alcohol was hitting him and staying. Maybe it was because the previous times he’d been drinking cheap party booze in Dash’s garage with Sam and Tucker, no one but the three of them aware that they were even there. Instead this time the booze was some semi expensive shit, he didn’t know the name or type but he’d been promised quality. Why he of all people was being given quality alcohol he'd never know but he wasn’t going to turn it down.

That being said seemed the trade off was intense nausea. It wasn’t that bad all things considered, he actually preferred being sloshed for the upcoming event but his body was not agreeing with that. Not that his body agreed with a lot of things. The disagreement between ghost and human sometimes really bit him in the ass. His head was floaty, the world in front of him was spinning badly, maybe it’d be worth it to never drink again. Especially if he was going to have this reaction . If only he’d invited Sam and Tucker. They were great fun and always knew how to reel him in. Man he missed them, if only they didn’t all go to different colleges. But nooo all of their majors just had to have few overlapping colleges. At least they were all within a drives (or in his case a flying) distance. When he wasn’t feeling too sick and unbalanced he’d have to fly over to their dorms for a movie night. It’d be nice. Sam might even be able to get them into someplace cool again.

In a stagnant attempt to push the feeling away he turned away from the window and towards his family. Jazz was studying a text on her phone. Probably a message from her girlfriend at university. Maybe she was inviting her. That’d be nice. She seemed nice when he’d saved her as Phantom a month ago, then everyone was nice when their life had just flashed before their eyes and they were rescued from it’s visions. Even when he and Valerie were on the worst of terms he was always grateful when ever she rescued him in either form. Bar Johnny 13 his sisters' taste in partners wasn’t actually all that bad. He actually liked her last girlfriend. Even then with Johnny he wasn’t sure how much of that was actually her taste and how much was Kitty’s possession.

Certainly Jazz’s apprehension couldn’t be blamed, three of her previous partners both highschool and college were driven away by how weird their family was. She claimed she was fine with it, something about them not truly accepting all parts of her but still. That sucked. School had been rough enough, he couldn’t even count the amount of people that had been weirded out from being his friend because of his parents. Well there was also his reputation but his parents being renowned ghost hunters and chaotic town kooks certainly did not help. Looking back on it more of that might have actually been on his reputation. A nerd with A+ grades until highschool only to then end up with Ds on the best of days and bruises on the worst. Yeah some of that was probably on him.

Jazz gave him a look, he’d spaced out and looked at her for too long, it was weird now. He gave her a shrug and turned to their mother.

Laughing would be rude; he had to remind himself when he spotted her dancing along to the car radio in her dorky adult grooving. It was peaceful in a way. A down time he didn't usually get to appreciate before something bad (normally ghosts) interrupted. It was almost nice in a way to be calm with his mom and sister. Even if the former looked really really stupid.

He snorted anyway at his mom’s dance moves. Discombobulated shoulder jerks and little hand motions mixed in with little head rolls that had no rhyme or reason. It was wildly out of beat and didn’t match the tone of the song on radio. It was definitely the kind of dancing that Tucker would disparagingly call “white people shit”. The thought alone of Tucker's pain at his parents' dance moves was almost enough to send him into hysterics.

Man he missed Tucker.

He’d have to check in on Tucker soon, since he started the latest school assignment he’d sort of ghosted everyone, for the lack of a better word. It was probably the stress of dealing with his assignment partners, he’d done the same last time. Still… in a town and world with ghosts it couldn't hurt to try to check in on him. Tuck was a big boy now he could hold his own in a ghost fight but he didn’t like the idea of leaving him to it. Call him what you will but obsessions were just like that.

Maybe he was a little possessive.

Just a touch.

“Oh Danny!” his mom squealed as a new song filtered in. The Uber driver rolled his eyes, clearly he thought no one could see him but Danny caught it in the rear view mirror. ” I love this song, isn't it rad!”

He tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was so ridiculous. His parents were doing this on purpose! They had to be! There was no way that they weren’t no one was that out of touch. That behind on lingo. Warm giggles and chuckles bubbled forth, messy and loud. The kind of laugh only those closest to him could coax out of him. Back in school it was only Tuck and Sam that got him to laugh like that (maybe Jazz if she was lucky) make him lose his composure so quickly, but more and more readily his parents had been able to also force the laughs out of him.

If only fourteen year old him could see him now. He’d be so embarrassed. Sitting in the back of an Uber laughing openly at something silly his mom was doing. She said something he couldn’t catch, teased him probably for laughing. A random pop song and the air coming in from the drivers open window were just loud enough to cover even a raised voice. Even still the there was comfort. Whatever she said was from a place of love.

He loved car rides sometimes. He didn’t always appreciate them when he was younger, kind of like how he felt about his parents. Especially when he was 14 but now? They were some of his favourite times spent with his parents. He just couldn’t help it, something about the rolling scene and music with easy conversation lulled him. It helped keep his obsession at bay, blocking it from flaring if he could see that some of the most important people in his life were there, in front of him safe and sound.

He still ached. Felt that compulsion to check Sam and Tuck. Rather than scream like normal it was a soothing whisper. He was able to drunkenly send them a text about how much he loved them without the skin crawling need to see that they were still standing.

The Uber slowed to a crawl, the Sudan squealing as they stopped. Man that guy really needed to replace his breaks. He could get in a wreck and then whoever he was ferrying around could get seriously hurt.

No!

He shook his head; he couldn't let his obsession obsess on something so small. It was probably safe to look out of the window again so he chanced a look. Danny narrowed his eyes as the Uber arrived at the church, and he finally remembered the occasion.

“Wait, Mom? Did we just pregame Vlad’s funeral?” Danny asked.

Maddie scowled,“ Shut up and act sober. For some reason, your dad loved that miserable creep,” she told him.

“It’s the only way to get through the day,” Jazz agreed, fumbling to open the door and step out.

Damn he hadn’t meant to forget the occasion but he couldn’t help it his mind was already prone to wandering and the alcohol was just making it worse. Really it was a miracle he passed highschool in the first place, even when sober his mind just struggled to latch onto subjects, and that was before he had to nightlight as Phantom, hell it wasn’t even nightlighting it was a full double life. Really he didn't even know how he was managing college with the heroing on the side. Best guess if he was pressed to give one was that his parents’ disappointment and the desire to go to space was combining into the ultimate peer pressure. Funny how his brain worked like that, maybe Jazz could explain that to him. She was good for stuff like that. Explanations for why his brain was weird. She tried to give him an acronym for it one time something with A's. An attention thing of some sort. He'd have to ask her about it again sometime so he could wrap his mind around it.

“Hey!” Jazz opened the door, her face inches from his, the scent of some fruity cocktail on her breath,” get out Danny, and remember, act normal. At least for dad’s sake.”

“Yeah,” he waved her off stumbling to his feet, honestly it wasn’t fair that the ground was so unsteady beneath him, kind of transphobic if you asked him. “If you wanted me to act normal then why’d we all get plastered?” he joked.

“Shush,” Jazz clamped a hand on his face, their slow amble up the church's many steps paused. “Don’t lick a gift horse in the mouth Danny, you know this will be insufferable.”

He licked her hand, she recoiled, wiping the spit off on her fancy black dress.

“Danny!”

He stuck out his tongue in retaliation.

“Behave, ”she chided.

He rolled his eyes and followed her. It was just a funeral, what was the worst they could get into?

The second he stepped in the church threshold he knew. It put his whole body on edge, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and the faintest trickled of mist? ghost vaper? Ghost breath? He actually had no clue what it was that came out of his mouth.

Well he never really understood what he was saying half the time anyways, his mouth had a habit of running out from under him. The worst case of that was just the other week, he was talking to Sam over skype about something and he’d forgotten that she knew about Phantom, how really he had no clue, and he just went on for about twenty minutes making some out there wild excuse for why he’d missed their last hang out when she’d stopped him.

Honestly it was getting embarrassing, even worse was trying to keep things he said to his parents in each form separate. He really had to tell them soon.

It was so easy when he was 14 the breadth of his conversations with them as Phantom at the time could be summed up with a snarky quip from him or a “I’m gonna dissect you” from them. Now though they seemed to be fully taking seriously the notion that ghosts had depth to them. Which while true was deeply inconvenient for him. That meant he had to have interactions with them as Phantom and keep his identity straight ( ha ). Maybe he should be grateful, they weren’t threatening to dissect him anymore that was certainly a plus, they still definitely wanted to examine him however. He had considered it, in the depth of the night, allowing them to examine him only to drop the transformation part way through. It’d be funny, just a little bit to catch them off guard like that. But they didn’t deserve a coming out like that. He stifled a groan, he thought he was done with the closet when he’d come out but no life just had to never end and add in ghosts.

“Danny,” Jazz hissed at him.

He slurred out a huh at her in confusion.

Damn he’d been staring out at nothing, the Pastor? Priest? He didn’t know the difference to be honest, was still talking about Vlad. Shit that’s right! The second he’d walked in his ghost sense had gone haywire, Vlad was still (half) alive in that plush ass casket. He wondered how bad it'd be to fake a stomach ache and transform into Phantom for some ass kickery. Knowing his luck though Vlad might just feign full death embrace just to make a fool of him.

He would do that, fake his death, hell he was doing it right now! Motive was still unclear to him but Danny was going to get to the bottom of it. The man at the front, religious figure of whatever denomination, was gesturing large and big as he wrapped up. It was really official, and stuffy, when he finally fully died he wanted his funeral to be nothing like this. Maybe Tuck's ideas of dramatic funeral pranks were where it was at. Or maybe even Sam's ideas of celebratory parties that remembered the dead's life. He wouldn’t object to either of those.

Alcohol was fading out of his system again, well it’d been nice while it’d lasted but it’d probably be best to not be sloshed if Vlad wanted to cause a scene.

He sat at the edge of his seat as his father came up for a speech.

“Vlad,” his father stopped to blow his nose,” Vlad was a good friend of mine in college, w-we,” his lip trembled, his large jaw hammering up and down as he stammered for words. It took everything in Danny to not sink into the pew bench in embarrassment. Jack was for all intensive purposes the only person in the entire church that seemed genuinely broken up about the billionaire’s death.

“We drifted apart for a while, and he’d just started to come back to mine and my wife's lives a few years ago and- and- I-I sorry,” he winced as his fathers voice died.

While he didn’t understand his fathers affection for the man his heart couldn't help but ache for the man’s sorrow. His father had such a large heart. He was so trusting and held so much affection in his large beating heart. It was a weakness and a strength. One his mother often said he inherited. He didn’t know if he could see it. He wasn’t so soft, so trusting, so eager to love and care as his father. Then the larger man hadn’t been burned the same. Hadn’t had his heart half electrocuted to death like him.

His mom walked up on the stage, he was briefly impressed by her composure, she was buzzed but also in heels and looked to all the church exceedingly well put together. Quietly she was speaking her hands gently on Jack’s shoulders patting his back soothingly. She often sold herself short. Stating her heart not to be as big, Danny didn’t believe that, not really, his mother was just more careful in those she let in.

“I wasn’t as close to him as my husband,” she admitted, having softly taken the mic from Jack. her fingers were curled around it softly, but her other hand was in her hair. She was fidgeting and searching for words,” but I’m sure those he was close to will miss him dearly.” she said tight lipped. Jack whispered something to Maddie quietly making her smile tightly and nod. The man moved to his seat and let his wife continue his speech in his stead.

It was nothing notable really, Danny wasn’t one for paying attention to speeches or lectures and a funeral would not be an exception. He caught a few snippets though, his moms implication that she liked him better in college. A line hoping that in death that he could hopefully move on from the past. He really tried to not laugh at that one clearly because she'd noticed the exes. How many of them had known before? How many of the exes had to learn of their blueprint right then and there in the funeral.

Still he sat teetering on the edge of his seat, half paying attention to her words and mind half trained on that open casket. Vlad lay there in the plush box waiting. What for he couldn’t tell yet but he wasn’t going to be caught unaware.

The speeches couldn’t have ended any slower in his opinion. He wished that the alcohol hadn’t run it’s course already. It was so much easier to get through shit when his mind was quieted and his obsession was dulled. Instead he was forced to wait, his waking obsession tearing at his insides making him wait. Watch the lingering guests with apprehensive eyes. A few were expected. Gaggle of divorced exes. Some smattering of people that vaguely had Vlad's chin and nose. It was bizarre, some looked wildly like him and others well. They were utter strangers to Danny. They all were but they seemed almost faceless in how unknown they were. Interestingly none of them really seemed that choked up. He’d never expected troves of people depressed about Vlad’s passing. Still to only have one sobbing mourner? Maybe they just grieved differently...

Yeah maybe.

About when he got his water from the refreshments table he realized that Vlad really wasn't pulling a stunt. Still he had no clue why he was in that damn casket if he was still (half) alive in there. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, his worst nightmare was being trapped in one of those, yet Vlad had clambered in willing foot after foot laying stricken and board straight for all that he knew to see him. It didn’t make sense. There had to be some trick.

There had to be.

He thought maybe after his father had bowed his head over the casket head in hands loud body wracking sobs shaking his shoulders that Vlad might then spring to life (ha) and attack them. No, instead he remained laying in that coffin, the soft plush pillow under his head holding him still, the flowers in hand still clutched in strict fingers. He must have some sort of long con going on then. Some sort of goal he was aiming to reach by laying stricken and dead.

Wouldn’t be the first time the man had pulled a bizarre stunt. The time he’d kidnapped Danny and his mom sprang to mind. But there were few situations that came to mind where faking one’s death could come in handy.

A severe looking man walked up to him a small plate of hors d'oeuvres in hand. Sam would hate the sight of the small snacks, not a single one was vegetarian. And Tuck? He’d be laughing his head off at the name and size. He really had to rope them into a trip to the movies or arcade sometime soon.

The man greeted him, straightening his professional looking tie as he spoke. The man was exceedingly out of place, in a clean and crisp business suit that hardly matched the tone of mourning clothes. Then his parents were wearing their jumpsuits under their fancy clothes so glass houses and all that.

The man was painfully dull giving Danny his condolences in a rather stilted and clunky tone. The man clearly didn't want to be there. He raised an eyebrow at the man as he finally asked how he knew the ‘deceased’.

Telling the man something to the effect of, “Just through my parents,” somehow making it clear to the man that he wasn’t particularly choked up by the billionaire's death. Gee he wondered what gave it away, his flat unaffected tone? Or the fact that Vlad was a billionaire with no moral backbone.

Huh, he must really be missing Sam a lot to be thinking like that. he hated to admit it but she was kinda right.

Business suit was disinterested in conversation with Danny after that, he hastily wrapped up the conversation. Man even muttered “shame.” under his breath, if Danny wasn’t half dead he wouldn't have caught it. But well nothing ever really worked out well for bureaucrats did it?

Had Vlad seriously faked his death to avoid paying a few measly bucks? The man was a billionaire! He must really owe them a mean amount of money for them all to arrive at the funeral like this. Maybe they hoped the will would work in their favour? Not far in front of the refreshment table were two suits talking unabashedly about the amounts that Vlad owed them. If it weren’t for the setting Danny would think that they were coming or going from an important meeting.

For what was probably the first time he properly looked at all of the guests. Actually taking them in, a good chunk like he’d noticed before were the exes that half looked like his mom, and their kids (hopefully they weren’t biologically Vlads). Then there were the vague family members that looked like Vlad watered down with kindness. But the rest? Suits and-

Oh.

Oh he had to step behind an archway and stuff a fist in his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud. Vlad had fucking bounty hunters being sent after him! It was karmic, he had to stop himself from busting a gut right then and there in the middle of a church. It was already blasphemy enough to be the walking dead he didn't want to also throw in disrespecting the (only mostly) dead into the mix.

Well at least they weren’t all debtors, lurking around the corners and edges of the room was a guy he’d worked with as Phantom a few years ago. He was kind of hot in a rugged sort of way. If it weren’t for Sam and Tuck he’d have considered flirting seriously with the other man. As it was his joking flirting got him in trouble with the other two.

He was really acting up being normal, that rugged man. Mingling about with other people dressed neatly.

Clear to only Danny what he was, what the others like him were, the man wandered unaware that Danny was watching him. Ironically he only knew they were bounty hunters because Vlad had hired the rugged man and his crew to hunt Phantom that time a few years ago and now? Oh the tables have turned. Someone, maybe one of the exes, or the debtors wanted him dead. Damn what had Vlad done?

Ghost Zone inhabitants had mixed opinions on him, many of which wanted him dead or knocked down a peg. But that was the Ghost Zone, half of them wanted Danny dead at some point or another. This was the human world. Earth and shit, it was much harder to piss off someone to the level of murder. Not impossible but damn. He grinned at this, Vlad was (half) alive and (sorta) well in that casket and he couldn’t do anything if he started to stir shit up. Life was beautiful, twinkling and gorgeous, he decided. He Didn’t need Tucker and Sam to have fun.

He started with one of the exes. He went out of his way to ignore her dyed red hair and pale purple eyes as he talked with her. It wasn’t her fault that Vlad had a complex, he reminded himself as the woman talked. Fault couldn’t be pinned on her for the parallels he could search between his mother and her. She was nice in a weird way, again really like his mom. It was unnerving. He kept trying to ignore her beady eyed gremlin of a child as she talked to him about the will.

Whatever Vlad had done for all the people in his life to only care about the will and the will alone Danny wanted to do the express opposite. It was almost painful in a way to watch all of these people act like they weren’t only here for the money. Served the man right, it was still depressing, the man had everything on paper but not a damn thing in reality.

“Do you think his daughter will show?” he tactfully added into the conversation after the woman had made some condolences about his family and Vlad.

“Daughter?” the woman asked, her large eyes blinking slowly,” I'm sure you're mistaken, Vlad told me he doesn’t have kids.”

“Oh,” he said, feigning apology, inside he was loving this, sure Vlad couldn’t admit the truth about the clones but clearly the man had seriously left out some details to his ex lovers. “Are you sure? ‘Elle is nineteen now,” he said, it was technically true if you counted right. She was also only seven if you counted right. It was all about semantics.

“Ninete-” the woman stammered something hard settling in her eyes,” he told me he didn’t want to have children,” she looked down at her angry eyed child (he hoped the little dude didn’t kick him in the shin) who had a hand fisted in the end of her dress. “If you’ll excuse me, Daniel, this was an- enlightening conversation.” he watched her walk away to a woman with a big chunky bracelet.

Also a redhead. Of course.

A sharp pain seared in the top of his ear he prevented himself from yowling out as the fingers attached dragged him over to a corner.

"ow ow ow," he whined out quietly trying heard not to draw attention to himself. It didn't really work.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jazz hissed at him when they were hidden away from the rest of the group.

“First of all: ow!” He rubbed his ear delicately between his finger pads,” I’m not a child anymore, maybe borderline sibling abuse was funny in 80’s sitcoms but it's not anymore.”

Jazz rolled her eyes,” second of all?” she pressed, she was still slightly buzzed and yet she was still holding herself with so much composure. Kind of impressive, if she hadn’t just physically threatened to rip his ear off.

“Secondly I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“Not do-” Jazz floundered,” Daniel!” she hissed out again struggling to keep her tone low. Damn she was mad, she only pulled out the full name when really fucked up,” I know your relationship with Vlad was- complicated.”

He snorted,” he tried to kill me multiple times, Jazz.”

“Yes bu-”

“Dark Dan,’’ he pressed further.

“I get it!” she snapped in a whisper-shout,” but a funeral isn-”

“He isn’t dead Jazz. Or really fully dead I guess I should say,” he laughed

Jazz rolled her eyes,” This is concerning behaviour Danny.”

“W-what?” he asked.

She tapped her chin pensively, she was psychoanalyzing him again, gag, “You must be transferring your complicated feeling about him into-”

“Jazz,” he groaned. It was best to stop her before she got on a roll, “Ghost senses remember? He’s still not fully dead, I can tell. He faked his death.”

“Okay,” she said with a sigh," I'm not saying I believe you, but say he did fake his death-”

“He did.”

She shot him a look, “Why? Why would he fake his death? He’s a rich ceo multi-billionaire with more money than most of us can conceive of, nonetheless actually obtain, what does he get out of faking his death?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, this was easier when Jazz was talking to one of Vlad’s cousins ignoring him stirring the pot.

He explained what he’d pieced together so far, with the suits and hunters lurking around the edges of the room it was easy to point out how out of place they look. Slowly a realization fell on her face, an acceptance of what he was saying.

“When I was talking to the stepford exes they were all talking about who would get the estate.”

“Do they know who?” he asked.

Jazz shook her head,” no the will was kept really secretive from all of them. There was even a bit of an altercation from two of the younger ex girlfriends over it.”

He winced at that, he couldn’t blame them for being mad he just wished Vlad wasn’t faking death for them to take it out on. “The bottle red and the one with the big bracelet?” he prompted, remembering the end of his conversation with the former.

“No that’s Maddison and Maggie, the two that fought were Morgan and Melenie.”

“Maddison? Maggie? Morgan? Melenie?” he repeated with a grimace voice getting higher with each name.

“Yeah I know,” she said with a sigh,” a textbook case of projecting an ex, or in this case crush, on future partners leading to a string of failed relationships,” she frowned looking over at the group of clustered red heads. Danny followed and examined them, they were all looking at something their eyes occasionally darted over to-

Oh of course, mom, they ��d probably done the math already. He winced at the thought. He’d half thought about it before finding the notion funny. Now in his sparkling sobriety of the evening he couldn’t find the humour.

“At least they all mostly get along,” Jazz offered, trying to look away from how the dozen or so women were looking at the one woman they were all stacked against.

“Really?” he blinked at her,” I’d have thought that they’d all be fighting cause of the- well you know,” he gestured to the, everything, of the situation.

She shook her head,” no, they seem to all understand that it was all on Vlad, two of them, Mackenzie and Melody,” she clarified to even more of his confusion,” even found out that they were seeing him at the same time. How they didn’t know with all of the press that followed him I’ll never know, but they decided to team up on the legal front if there are any issues with the will.”

“Really.”

Jazz nodded,” yeah I was surprised too, but good for them, Vlad went around causing too many issues in their lives.”

He nodded in agreement as he looked at at the sea of redheads, some of them had grown out their hair revealing dark roots, some had hair styled in poufy curls reminiscent of his mothers old style and one of them had completely cut her hair into a half shaved look, it was actually similar to the look that Sam had now.

“Want to cause some problems for him?” he asked.

“Danny, legally and socially he’s dead, what could we do?”

“Legally yeah,” he agreed,” but technically he’s still half alive in there, and can hear everything that people say-”

“Are you suggesting that we ruin his reputation?” Jazz asked with a poorly hidden smile. He loved that in the years she’d loosened up. It was a good look on her, relaxation.

“Ruin?” He said, in mock scandal, ”I'm merely suggesting we bring it down to where it belongs.”

“Oh ‘merely’ what is that a fifth grade word? I'm impressed!” Jazz teased.

He shoved her lightly with a laugh,” oh fuck off I’m in college now you know.”

“Really? Accredited and everything?”

He stifled his laugh,” shut up, you know dealing with ghost shit messed with my grades.”

Truthfully he’d expected her to joke further about it, to razz him about doing so much, or maybe analyze him, diagnosis him with trauma. Instead she hugged him.

“I’m sorry so much was put on your shoulders so young,” her voice was raw. Too raw.

He patted her back, stomach squirming. Because what was he to do with that? The tender care held for him in the cracks of her fingers. The sorrow that settled in her pores all for him?

“Hey stop that,” he eventually said, pulling back,” or I'll make clockwork take me back in time so you never find out.” He didn’t mean it, he never did.

Jazz laughed a little wetly, he didn’t comment on it. Why would he? Also didn’t get a chance as she ruffled his hair, despite the fact that he was now much taller than her. “People are allowed to care about you, asshole.”

He scrunched his nose up at that,” ew what? I detest affection.”

“Oh detest another good one, really racking up those vocab words huh?” she sniffled her hands on her hips, a little lean in her back as she smirked.

Snorting, he stepped back and fixed his hair,” how about we make this a competition?”

“Huh?”

“First one to make Vlad burst out of his casket and rage in ghost mode wins.”

“Really? What would the winner get?”

He tapped his chin making a humming noise,” how about this, loser has to reveal their secret.”

Jazz laughed nervously,” I don’t have a secret Danny.”

Danny gave her a look,” Jazz, I’ve met your girlfriend.”

She bit her lip looking down at his outstretched hand, a debate playing in her eyes.

“Hey you don’t have to if you don’t wanna,” he said softly,” this is just meant for fun after all.” he knew better than most what forcing this stuff did.

”No, it’s fine,” she took his hand and shook, if a little clumsily,” that doesn’t mean they have to meet her though.”

“Oh don’t worry,” he said,” it won’t be my fault if they do that’ll be entirely on them.”

“Danny!” she exclaimed at him as he fled to the other side of the church. Finally this funeral was going to be interesting!

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked the swaying uncle of Vlad. The man smelled of beer and hors d'oeuvres. Not that Danny could judge if it wasn’t for the thick layer of spray on deodorant that his mom smothered him in right before he got in the uber then he’d probably smell just as rank. Then there was the fact that he’d pregamed to.

The older man narrowed his eyes at Danny, he was shocked to see the man he looked to hardly be much older than Vlad yet he was his uncle? He’d gone to ask about it but thought better about it, the less lore he knew about Vlad’s family the better, he really didn’t want to know about how many kids and when and how the Masters ‘clan’ had. Conversation with the older man was… stilted, to say the least. But he was certain that if he told him something then it wouldn’t get back to him. And that was half the game wasn’t it? Finding a way to spread the most rumours without people finding out it was him or Jazz. All without powers of course, that almost went without saying.

The man didn’t seem too broken up about Vlad, they probably weren’t that close and Danny had always gotten the impression from the billionaire that he was a smidge too snobbish to fully have developed relationships with people. As often as he teased Jazz for being snobby, she at least was nowhere near as bad as Vlad. Man damn near invented snobbishness and assholery. He’d have to ask clockwork if Vlad’s ancestors were just as bad. Judging by some of his family, probably not.

“Well before he passed,” Danny prompted, pausing in a way to snag the older man's attention.

“Yes?” the older man asked when he didn’t continue.

“Well,” Danny fidgeted with his nail,” you know his signed Packers jersey?”

The older man nodded eagerly.

Danny looked to the side,” it’s a fake,” he whispered to the man.

“Really?”

He nodded,” yeah, but please don’t tell anyone,” he added,” it’s bad enough that they know he was banned from buying the team-”

“He was what?”

Danny fought to hide a smirk. He knew it’d be easier to sell this lie if he started smaller.

“I thought everyone knew!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, most of the town knows, it’s just, no one talked about it to be polite.” okay that might have been overselling it a bit but the distant relative seemed to really be drinking it in.

“What did he do?”

Danny looked side to side like he didn’t want anyone to overhear.

“Well a few years ago when he was closing the deal to buy the team he got caught stalking some of the members!”

“Really?” the uncle asked,” wha- why?”

Danny shrugged,” they never really found the reason he was following them, he was even trying to seduce some of the wives.”

The man gasped,” I- really?”

Danny nodded. “But you can’t tell anyone you have to promise me.”

He watched as the man smiled in what he thought was slyness,” of course! I just, with all of those wives he had!”

Within the next five minutes Danny heard the rumour circulate across the room and it had grown legs. How glorious those rumours legs were.

“I heard he’d tried to break up a marriage on the team!” an ex wife (Maggie maybe?) hissed.

The other ex (Mary? The other woman might have called her) laughed,” would it really be any surprise? With what he did to Morgan and Melenie?”

The first woman nodded sagely,” fair I can’t believe I even fell for his tricks.”

All things considered the rumour was spreading well, and there was not even a gasp of a suggestion that he was the source. He couldn’t wait to hear what Jazz had invented, with the rumbles he’d already started to hear, it was probably great. Jazz always did have a way of getting into people’s heads. Find what interests them the most.

“So this daughter of Vlad's?” the woman he was talking to prompted, he vaguely remembered Jazz saying her name was Maddison. She’d found him again some time later; her child now safely deposited over by the other kids with their group babysitter. They were in the middle of the church now, the other two still whispering about the packers' spouses.

“ ‘Elle?” he asked as if he’d forgotten.

The woman nodded her curls bouncing as she did.

“Can I see a picture of her?”

He pulled up an older photo of them hanging out, the picture was grainy and they were both sticking their tongues out at the camera. Shit he’d really forgotten how alike they looked.

“You both-” the woman said before stopping. She glanced at his parents.

Shit he had to go into damage control,” well she’s also my cousin,” he fibbed.

“Cousin?”

“Yes! Technically once removed? Or something like that, I didn’t meet her until a few years ago, we were really blown away with the family resemblance!” he laughed. "Really it's uncanny!" He continued.

Too far! Too far! He was leaning into it too much! It wasn’t like he could just tell her the truth, that Dani was Vlad's only successful half dead clone of him! Then he’d also have to out two things about himself to her.

“She travels a lot,” he added. He really needed to learn when to shut his big mouth,” she was in Paris a few years ago actually.”

“Really?”

He couldn’t even blame the alcohol! He was just this stupid naturally huh? They’d been saying it for years Sam and Tucker, if only he’d taken them seriously before this. His idiocy might really be terminal.

“Yup, I haven’t seen her in awhile though, hopefully she visits again!”

Scrutinizing eyes scanned him up and down, darting from each corner of his face hunting out the ruse. He really needed to learn to shut his big mouth.

“Do you have her number?”

Crashing noises filled his brain. Her number? The last thing that he had expected was interest in ‘Elle. he’d just thought that they’d get upset at Vlad and leave it at that.

“ ‘E-elle's?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sorry if this is prying but me and the other ladies,” she gestured to a few of them,” we’re talking and we want to support her!”

“I-” he hesitated, he hadn’t really planned for this,” what?”

The older woman nodded,” we all talked it out and if we get the estate we’re going to support one another and the kids, and it seems like ‘Elle just got stuck in the middle of this like the rest of us.”

“Yeah uh, let me just text her first?”

“Of course honey!”

Danny walked away from that conversation feeling distinctly weirder than before. Regardless he pulled up his phone and slid out the keyboard.

He opened up the “With an I” contact.

Hey i accidentally got you adopted by like fifteen random women that used to date vlad

5:43 p.m.

You what? Lul

5:45 p.m.

He looked up around him before typing out the next message

Yeah long story short he faked his death. Its weird

5:46 p.m.

I’m at the funeral and the exes wanna like support you?

5:46 p.m.

Well Vlad wasn’t good for much but at least i now have a multitude of mothers

5:47 p.m.

So i can give them your number?

5:47 p.m.

Yeah have at it! If this causes chaos for vlad im all for it !

5:48 p.m.

“So her phone number is.”

By the time he’d separated himself from that conversation a few more rumours were floating.

“I heard that the reason he died in a car crash is because he was on the run from the law!” one of vlad's relatives whispered.

“Really!” another responded.

Elsewhere some of the attending staff were murmuring too. “I heard that he got caught smuggling maple syrup cans from canada!”

“Cans?”

“Yes apparently the good stuff is canned there.”

He walked to a new group this time with the suits.

“I hear that the money in the accounts is dirty.”

“According to my source his invested stocks were backed with illegal funds.”

“If there’s drugs really attached to it like I was told then I don't want anything to do with it.”

“I agree it's hard enough to get money from wills with spouses involved. It's even harder if the feds sniff any drugs.”

“It might not even be worth it to try with all of the ladies,” a different suit complained,” I overheard them talking about lawyering up together if anything goes wrong.”

Another much older suit scoffed,” this business was much easier before the exes started working together.”

Finally he heard his own new rumour starting to gain some traction.

“Wasn’t it found out that he was stealing science equipment from the nearby college?”

“Oh whatever for?”

“I heard it was for making a specialty shampoo.”

“I’ve always wondered how he kept his hair so nice and shiny.”

Jazz was good, too good, considering that neither of them had really clicked into any social cliques in highschool. Now she was gossiping better than even any of the A-listers.

“It’s just such a shame that they can’t come,” Jazz was even fake sobbing, damn he was going to have to up his game.

“Who couldn’t come?” One of Vlad's older cousins asked, Danny wondered if Jazz was screaming inside at the hand she had around one of the older exes' waists, it was casual and tender. If one of Vlad's exes was getting together with his cousin because of the funeral , Danny would shriek from laughter, hell if he accidentally used his ghostly wail it’d be well worth it. Vlad of all people deserved to have a partner snatching occur to him.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Jazz said,” I thought that everyone knew,” she looked from side to side,” please don’t tell the other ex wives Monroe I’d hate for their feelings to get hurt over this.”

Damn she was good. The wife- Monroe who was leaning comfortably on the cousin nodded.

“Of course Jazzie,” she said in a deep comforting New York accent,” this can be brought up to them later more delicately later. Though I must admit,” she said after a pause where Jazz thanked her for her discretion.” I myself am curious who wasn’t able to come.”

“Well you know how he used to do ghost research with mom and dad?”

Where was she going with this? She was selling it well, Danny had to admit but for the life of him he couldn’t guess where this was going.

“Yes of course,” the cousin nodded as Monroe spoke.

“I can’t name the amount of times he used to write home in our youth about his little ghost adventures,” the cousin added.

Jazz nodded ,” well at the school there was the Lunch Lady Ghost and the Box Ghost, he was seeing them romantically in between their stays in the ghost zone.”

Danny held back a snort box ghost! If he laughed too hard in that moment he’d drop the ghost form and would fall on top of the group that’d gathered around her. As much control as he’d mastered over his abilities over the past couple years there was nothing that would be able to save him from Jazz’s wit.

“I’m sure box ghost is very helpful for moves,” one of the crowd commented amicably. The others though had nothing to say. Clearly they’d all actually met Box Ghost.

The gossip might have even stayed in that circle if it weren’t for another one of the cousins being right there and then deciding to tell his wife, who then told one of the ex-wives, who then told another, who then told a suit. So on and so forth.

By the time that Danny was back in human form and settled on the opposite side of Jazz’s conversation he was hearing the children that some of the wives had brought talking about Vlad ‘holding hands’ with the Box Ghost and Lunch Lady. Why couldn’t he have thought about that? It was so good, it was perfect, literally no one could prove it wrong. And embarrassing, seriously Box Ghost!

All the stuff he knew to be true about Vlad sounded so far-fetched.

Half ghost?

Well most people didn’t know about them.

The time he infected his two closest and longest friends with ghost pimples?

Needed the half ghost context.

If only there was some-

“I hate Vlad!” one of the kids near him cried out stomping down his foot.

Unsurprisingly all of the kids agreed, okay he was a little surprised, usually Vlad had the wool pulled over on most people. So the fact that all of these kids hated him really meant something.

“He stole my cotton candy at the fair!”

“Well he told me that I didn’t need to see daddy anymore cause he was gonna replace him!”

Eager ears pointed at them he drank in their every complaint. He’d known that Vlad was cartoonish levels of evil for awhile (see the infecting teens with ghost acne for personal gain as proof, or kidnapping him and his mom) but never had he truly expected for him to be so stupid as to do it all in the open in front of all of these kids. Then again some of this might be his obsession making him act out. Smallest sliver of him almost felt bad about that, the fact that Vlad was in a way forced to be this way, but it wasn’t really anything he wasn’t before. Obsessions just highlighted what was already there. Made it more severe.

“Uhm excuse me,” he tapped the shoulder of one of the shorter women,” Mallory?” He'd asked the babysitter for her name but for the life of him he was struggling to keep all of the exes straight in his head. There were just too many of them and they all looked too similar to his mom.

“Yes,” her eyes flickered with recognition,” Danny?”

He laughed,” yeah that’s me!”

“Some of the others were mentioning you!” she said with a bright smile taking his hand,” thank you for telling us about ‘Elle! I can’t believe he kept her a secret from all of us for so long.”

He nodded in agreement,” well about Vlad-”

“Oh no, what else was he hiding?” she asked, there was a laugh ringing from her but Danny didn’t need ghost senses to know it was dead on arrival,” I’ve learned so much more here at his funeral than I ever did when we’d been together.”

He laughed a little at that, a stilted awkward laugh that only filled his chest halfway. He almost felt bad telling her about this, but she deserved to know the truth. “Well I overheard some of the kids complaining about Vlad.”

He filled her in on what he’d overheard about the kids, the petty little actions of Vlad. The cotton candy he’d stolen (which was weird he’s rich), the fathers he threatened to replace, it was all so bizarre. Danny was about halfway through when the casket began to shake.

Vlad masters was not an impulsive man. He was calculated, smart and forward thinking. At least he certainly liked to think so. No impulsive man goes out of his way to plan his nemesis’ death and demise for twenty years. No reckless person would spend his time building an empire carefully crafting his abilities and connections for taking down his enemy. Vlad however to his greatest distaste was in fact still half human and not infallible. While he was meticulous and in his personal opinion exceedingly intelligent he had no way to properly plan for wrenches in his schemes.

The fenton boy, Daniel was his biggest hurdle but it was only a matter of time before he found the right way to tackle the issue. He was just a particularly big roadblock. If only his emotional attachment to his dunderheaded father wasn’t so strong. These issues were all small potatoes compared to the one he was in now. The details can be spared and smoothed over all that was truly important was that he was at his own funeral.

He’d always wondered what people's reaction to his death would be. Contact with his extended family had been… loose, for the lack of a better term since his ‘accident’. Deep down however he knew that when or if his time came, truly came, that they’d have a reaction. Probably sadness, he had been close to a few of them before his accident, hell he’d been close to them before his company had taken off. At the end of the day he simply had better things to do. Plans to make, revenge to ruminate on. It wasn’t his fault that they’d fallen to the wayside. They simply weren’t as important as Maddie.

He’d toyed with the idea that maybe his dear Maddie would sob over him, that she’d denounce Jack when she saw that he was no longer an option. How deeply poetic it’d be for that to happen. He never liked the idea of her only realizing their potential then but he couldn’t ignore the artful symmetry of it all. Some of the books that Maddie used to read in college had those even beginning and ends, those swooping through lines that tied it all nicely in a pretty bow. His first death had ripped her away from him. It’d gifted her to Jack on a silver platter, and his second oh how glorious it’d be if it drew her to him. Making her denounce her imbecile of a husband. Leaving the stocky man discarded. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder and even with its harsh edges his death bringing her close to him was something to behold. If only that was what he was watching happen.

Unfortunately for Vlad Masters Owner, Ceo, and founder of Vladco. Life was not an art piece nor a well orchestrated game of football. No instead he got to lay still (half) alive in his exceedingly expensive casket and listen to the dolt sob.

It started like all of the worst things while heading to the Fenton's for another plan to be set in motion. The restraining order was still being held up in the courts so there was technically nothing legally stopping him from seeing them, or especially her. Besides he was a billionaire, those things were more fine machines than anything for him. Once it was enacted all he’d have to do was pay a fine.

Unfortunately it was during the drive that issues started. Again finer details notwithstanding for he’d run them all in his head a thousand times now while laying in this blastedly comfortable casket. While on the drive it became clear to him he was being followed. No matter , he’d smugley told himself. He’d been followed by techbro fans before they were easy to deter. Easy to remove from his time and life. However in a deeply detestable turn of events the car following him did not belong to a fan.

He knew from the offset of seeing the make and model that it wasn't his average follower, those types usually had older beaters or worse highly expensive care that they had no business owning. No, instead this car was perfectly down the middle of class and price. How he detested those cars, they had no class. It was effectively similar to the many unmarked police cars that he used to have follow him during his brief stint as mayor.

Regardless the car was tailing his limo, it was simple at first to attempt to outmaneuver them. Eventually his limo was pinned.

Blah blah blah mindless details later some pointless shooting at him with guns and he’d jacked their car. In the end it was simply easier to fake a fatal car crash. then there were all of those witnesses that had to see his death. Walking it back was impossible all circumstances considered. At least when they attacked him they only knocked his driver out, the legal case of that would have been a logistical nightmare and he still had some hopes of getting access to his funds later.

It was almost funny in a karmic way. Almost as poetic as he had wanted pretending to be dead to be. Only problem was it was poetic in exactly the opposite way. The person that he hated most there sobbing the loudest. It’d be so much easier if it was Madeline sobbing. If she was sobbing, a faked death could be almost satisfying. If she melted down it could almost be worth it. Instead it was Jack Fucking Fenton.

Numerous things were to be expected from his funeral, Daniel's arrival, yes, Maddie’s, undoubtedly. Even Jazz’s and Jack’s all expected arrivals. Some of them were more annoying than others but they were the requisite arrivals. Even his gaggle of ex flings was to be expected (they had to try and get their hands on the estate and money somehow. Well jokes on them he’d left it all to Maddie). No, what he hadn’t been prepared for was Jack’s incessant wailing and sobbing.

The man was besides himself absolutely losing his mind right next to his goddamn open casket. It was getting hard to keep a straight face when he wanted nothing more than to leap from the plush silk sheets and throttle the man. His hands might not quite reach around the other mans thick neck but he could give it a good try he was sure. To put it simply and without intense amounts of rage he had mentally calculated for a lot of variables, not one of them being Jack of all people struggling to breath, choked out sobs instead of breaths coming from him as he hovered nearby. Not a single variable included being cried on by the most loathsome man in all of Amity Park. Every tear that fell on Vlad’s extremely expensive make up was another tally against the man’s. Had he no clue how hard it was to not flinch every time a drop of water splattered on his face? It was much harder than it looked he’d have him know.

Didn’t the idiot realize that he hated him? That he’d never cared for him? At least not since his death.

Worse was when Maddie and the Fenton children staggered in, he could smell the alcohol on them from a mile away. It was tasteless! The smell alone nearly made him leap from his casket and throttle them where they stood (Maddie with exception of course). Have they no respect for the dearly departed? Have they no care for social decorum? Those Fenton spawn would never survive in high class society. Not like himself and Maddie. Oh how he wished he’d never gone for those pale imitations. They hardly kept up with all that he needed.

All he had to do now was ignore everyone and get through the funeral and he could be Plasmius full time. Pursue Maddie 24/7 with no worries of the law (though with some worries of Phantom). If only those blasted Fenton's would stop spreading rumours about him! And he knew it was them! Who else would say such outrageous things?

Okay certainly if one wanted to be technical Danielle was his daughter, but he hadn’t raised her. She was not his blood, she was not his in the most important ways.

Then there was that rumour about the-

“He-hey Vlad.”

Oh, oh no.

“I uh, I’m gonna miss you.”

No no no no no! He couldn’t do this! He wouldn’t do this! He would not stand for this! He did not go out of his way to fake his death for this.

Jack blew his big blubbering nose into a handkerchief so hard it honked. Honked! He was going to throttle this man at his earliest convenience. Getting cried on he could deal with, revolting as it was. What he couldn’t and wouldn’t deal with getting yammered at. That was not in the details. He did not plan for this.

“I- uhm- I know we weren’t really close these last few years.”

That was putting it lightly.

“Or really at all since college,” there was a wet laugh from Jack.

If that oaf ended up coughing slobber on him- Maybe if he tried hard enough he could die for real, that’d be nice. He’d never really craved death before, not like in this moment. It’d be so much easier if he just didn’t have to hear this.

“I-I know you didn’t really like me in the end.”

Wait what? Had he finally gotten a clue? That was a first. Maybe his overt plotting had finally gotten through to the oaf. If Jack attacked him now that’d almost make this all worth it. He might even consider revealing he’s Plasmius if he did.

“I know I messed up, I-I must have hurt you, I don’t really know how, but- but uh, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Yes ye- He was what?

There was another laugh sob from his ex friend,” It’s probably too late since you’re uh- dead, but whatever it is I did to hurt you, I'm sorry. I hope,” he trailed off into a high pitched keening whine.

Stop stop stop! This is not what he wanted!

“I hope you rest well Vlad.”

Footsteps receded away from him at that.

Well what the fuck was he supposed to do with that? What in the world was he supposed to do with that knowledge? Internalize it? Grow and change as a person? He was (half) dead! He was well past the point of growth! He was beyond growth.

For all Jack knew he wasn’t coming back! For him and basically all of them he wasn’t coming back! The only person that would know was Daniel and maybe his sister if he told her. Maybe his brat friends if he messaged them.

What did Jack get out of telling him all of that?

Certainly not money, the will had left everything to sweet Maddie, not him. Some sort of moral upper hand? A sense of feeling like he got one over Vlad?

No the dolt wasn’t that complex, his intelligence lay somewhere between absentminded and incompetant on a good day, there was no moral forethought. Yet why did the words settle so deeply in a corner of himself? Carving out a crevice in him that ached and burned?

“Did you hear about why Vlad couldn’t buy the green bay packers?”

Why? Why did it dig in his flesh? why when he’d thought he’d burned all of that away.

I'm Sorry.

“No, why?”

Life was easier when he was fully alive. College life was simpler. At least then he could fool himself that Maddie thought of him equally as she did Jack.

“Well I heard that he was stalking the team!”

What?

Why would he stalk them? He’d never stalked someone once in his entire life! (death maybe but he’d never admit that) he could buy all the tickets to their games he had no reason to stalk them!

There was no practicality in stalking them. Just like Jack had no reason to apologize to him! The idiot didn’t even know what he’d done to hurt him. He hadn’t ripped the apology from Jack. He wasn't on his knees begging from him. Hell he didn’t even know that he’d killed Vlad. Jack Fenton was as oblivious to the fact that he’d died back in college as he was to the fact that his own son was dead and playing hero as Phantom.

The density of the man was rivaled by no other.

But then why did he apologize?

“Did you hear?”

He got nothing out of it.

Why did it ache?

Burn? He wanted for years nothing more than to make the man sob and beg for forgiveness.

Why did having it fulfill nothing?

“About him and the Box Ghost?”

Would it burn just as painfully if he finally got sweet Madeline’s confession? Would it ring just as hollow?

“I thought it was the lunch lady ghost?”

No. There was something about Jack that made it wrong. Something about that blathering moron that lashed the words to him like a blade.

“I think it was both.”

And what the hell were they all blathering on about? What was all of this nonsense about Box Ghosts and smuggling and stalking? What were any of their empty little words?

Did any of that really matter? Their blathering human rumours and petty squabbles when he, the very guest of honour in all ways but one was laying here before their very eyes on the precipice of something? He was teetering at some edge, he didn’t know what it was but he could just make out the shape of the hole he was almost toppling in, he just had to know what it was. He just-

“Well I heard-”

They heard- they heard! What did it matter what they’d all heard! Nothing that they heard could matter in the slightest not when he was dealing with this! Not when he was reeling with whatever this was! The weight and size of it completely overtaking him and yet none of them aware, he was suffocating being overtaken by the edge of knowledge some realization he’d yet to make and hee still couldn’t read it. All because they wouldn’t stop blathering on and on about what? Lies?

Stupid foolish tales spun by his greatest enemy!

By a child.

If it were not for the show and pageantry of it all, if it were not for the display that he’d set about around him he’d be yanking his hair by the roots, tearing it slowly strand by strand from his scalp. And if there was one thing that Vlad Masters was, it was a showman! He was dramatic and he was going to be so unabashedly it was not his fault that there was no one that yearned for his life to roll onwards like Jack. None of it could be held against him. He was a romantic! Everything he did was for her.

Had it truly all been for nothing?

All these years.

Had she never really cared?

“Dirty money, attached to drugs. I wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pool.”

All this time.

Did he really-

“Never even mentioned a daughter!

All his schemes!

Jack's tears were so warm when they cut the thick funeral makeup.

“So many secrets for him to keep.”

Dozens of attempts on his life!

Did he really care? The water on his face was still warm.

“Wasn’t the cause of his crash a run from the law?”

“Would you all just shut up already!”

Silence blanketed the church as Vlad’s voice finished ringing out the wooden box still perched on its little stage. The casket was still shaking and the flowers were falling from the box as the hush grew sharper. Energy crackled from the casket shooting out and blowing the bulb above. Glass fell from the light falling gently on the flower petals.

None one spoke, Danny’s father had a hand over his mouth, new large tears welling up. He looked green and pale, unlike most of the stunned guests he looked like he was about to be sick.

Danny shot a glance at Jazz, she nodded and jerked her head to the side. He ducked out. Things were about to get hairy.

There was no response from Vlad for a second as it seemed the outburst was done. Even the children who’d been shrieking with laughter and joy from their play for most of the funeral were silent. The falling glass and shaking box were deafening in the silence. Danny ducked behind a pillar and into the doorway that led to the restrooms. There was no one there. The closest person was his mom but she was standing silent and stunned not an eye tilted away from the casket. He couldn’t blame her.

It wasn’t everyday your incel stalker had a breakdown after he’d legally died.

He transformed. On the most part there weren’t many people near the casket. It was just a few lingering Exes, most people were near the refreshment table. His first line of action should be to grab the people near the stage and get them to safety. Then?

Well the rest was adlib.

At least he had stored the Fenton thermos in his suit jacket (just in case). If only Sam or Tucker were there. Things were so much easier with their help.

Just as he was about to jump into the situation, the group of exes all swarmed Vlad. Shit he’d have to replan everything. He wouldn’t be able to get in an ecto-blast with out the fret of hitting one of them. He could always try Ice or a little storm cloud?

Just as a new plan was starting to formulate one of them (Maria?) slapped Vlad hard across the face.

Smack.

The noise echoed loudly across the church.

He grimaced.

Oh.

He did not want to get in the middle of whatever that was. He really didn’t want to get in the middle of it at all. Backing back into the bathroom he turned back to normal. Didn’t matter what the situation was, he was not going to get in the middle of a dozen or so angry exes and Vlad. It was his grave (even if Danny had helped him dig it a little) like hell Danny was getting buried with him.

“Vlad Masters!” one of the exes screamed,” you slimy pathetic excuse of a man.”

Yeah Danny was not getting in that, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to watch.

“Ow!” Vlad cried out, his eyes were glowing red, but aside from that he still looked very much the same.

Weird, Danny didn’t expect him to stay in human form. He guessed it made sense if he changed into Plasmius the gig would be up. There’d be a lot of questions too. Knowing Vlad’s tendency to monologue he might even explain the concept of Halfa’s.

“M-Maria!” the older man stammered out,” darling hello-”

The woman smacked him again,” I’m Maggie,” she spat out.

Danny winced, yikes. Makeup covered Vlad's gaunt face but Danny could imagine the smarting red forming on his cheeks.

“Y-yes of course, how could I mistake your beauty, how foolish of me to compare the two of-”

The clearing of a throat interrupted as Maria herself tapped her foot.

“Maria!” Vlad exclaimed this time correct, even if taken by surprise.

“Yes,” the woman agreed,” but don’t mind me, what were you saying? Something about comparison?”

The billionaire awkwardly laughed as he seemed to take in the fact that he was surrounded by all of his exes. Phantom wasn’t even needed. Villain defeated right then and there by the rage and power of his many exes. Again Danny found himself desperate to find out whatever the older man had done to make everyone hate him so just to do the express opposite.

When he actually fully died he hoped his funeral wasn’t this… whatever plan he actually ended up with he just didn’t want this.

“So,” Jazz said as she settled next to him leaning on the pillar with him,” any idea what got him up?”

“Nah,” Danny shrugged looking over to his sister. She looked more sober now, less unstable on her feet.” He didn’t really decree what his gripe was this time.”

Jazz sighed,” so no winner yet.”

“Unfortunately,” he said,'' He also technically didn’t go ghost mode.”

Jazz groaned resting her head on his shoulder,” I wanted to go home, these heels are killing me!”

He stuck a tongue out at her,” shoulda transed your gender like I did,” he teased quietly.

“Ha! Really funny Danny,” she flatly commented with a roll of her eyes at the tired joke.

“Ah meany,” he pouted.

“You walk in these heels at a funeral,” she complained again,” At least if he went full ghost It’d be socially acceptable to ditch them.”

He bit his tongue remembering a rant that Sam had gone on recently about heels and social pressure. How she’d then thrown one of her platform boots at Tuck when he made a remark. Jazz probably wouldn’t appreciate his lovesick ramblings about them.

“Looks like we'll just have to continue to watch this unfold.” he said instead with a sarcastic twinge.

“Oh what a shame!” Jazz said flatly,” sucks to be us.”

Danny snickered as Vlad continued to try to dig himself out of his hole. How he wished Sam and Tucker were here. Unfortunately for him they were both far too busy. Ah well he’d just have to video it all for them.

How unfortunate for Vlad that he was made to sit through his own will reading, and how fortunate for Danny Fenton that he was the one that got to watch it all go down. In the entire time that he and Vlad had been nemesis he never knew just how much he wanted exactly this to happen. Actually if someone ever suggested this happening younger him probably wouldn’t have appreciated just how funny this was. No fourteen-to-fifteen him was far too invested in things like learning his powers and finding out just how observant the rest of town was. Also looking cool. Adult him however? Freshly 21 and college attending him? Oh he could enjoy the fuck out of this situation.

There was some minor debate among some guests over how ethical it was since Vlad's ‘ghost’ was now here to view the reading. Some point could be made that it might be weird...

“Isn’t it rude?” one family member had suggested.

But...

“It might be in bad taste,” another guest had even pipped up.

No one really liked Vlad anyways

“Oh no!” Morgan said,” I want to know what it says, and who better to see how accurate it all is.”

Oh how glad he was that those few were beaten out. How glad he was that the crowd was seeing blood. That the group was too nosey and invested in the drama to really get caught up in such small things as ethics. How grateful he was that the exes were in half a mind to Kill Vlad a second time.

Fortunate he was, that his luck was finally turning up. It might even be the universe trying to pay him back for all of the shit he’d been dealing with since he was fourteen. Return investment on the untimely youth death. Honestly if it was it was a pretty bang up start all things considered. He’d have to find out if there was a ghost involved in the control of karma. They might just end up with an edible arrangement on their lair door. Older adults loved that shit so ghosts should too.

“Hm,” the lawyer said when they entered the room with the walking corpse of Vlad masters. The office was small and hardly held everyone, but snugly, far too snugly for comfort they all fit on the other side of the large desk.

No one said anything to the lawyer. Whether the man had been privy to the rest of the funeral or had just arrived Danny didn’t know but he had to admit this entire situation was bizarre even with full context. Not many of them knew ghost rules and the only ones that did were in either stunned or gleeful silence. There was no objection to the fact that Vlad had dragged his body with him, not a voice descenting on the fact that his form hadn’t shifted. Not a single attendee seemed perturbed by the fact that Vlad was not really a ghost.

Even the paid bounty hunters didn’t know how to discern ghosts from humans judging by their stunned expressions. Though he’d love to watch one of them attack Vlad in the middle of a church. Stabbing a man in the house of god might just be a big sin, though Danny wasn’t sure.

“Well this is unprecedented,” the lawyer commented,” never in my time have I ever seen a dead man rise for the reading of his own will.”

Vlad grumbled but no one could make out the words as the two exes on either side of him glared.

Oh how fortunate Danny was indeed, never before had he ever been so glad for his untimely death. If it all led to watching Vlad squirm like this still trying to keep his alter ego a secret? Pain and strife, the many attacks and attempts on his life were worth it.

“Well if there is no protest,” the lawyer said. For a moment Vlad looked very much like he wanted to protest, but the glares of the exes kept him silent and made him snap his jaw shut. Danny knew what went into keeping a corpse looking fresh. Shame the mortician seemed to have skipped wiring the jaw shut. Then, Vlad didn’t seem to need physical wires to keep him silent and well behaved, his Exes were all doing that job very well.

“In that case,” the lawyer sounded queasy, if Danny wasn’t so invested with the drama unfolding he might have turned to verify. “Then I believe we will begin.”

The man started out by reading the long legal preamble, the paragraphs upon paragraphs of titles and information about Vlad that was included. Danny understood that him being the owner of VladCo was technically important for the will but did he need to include all of his ten titles at the company in the will? It just felt excessive. ‘Ceo, entrepreneur, founder, head of decisions, etc.’ did anyone care? Leaving out the most important title of ‘asshole’ was the biggest mistake of his will.

“Yes I think we get it,” Monroe said, her accent clipping the words in stiff professionalism. Bless her for cutting the pain short. “I do have,” the woman glanced at the cousin who was still holding her hand,” A more important social engagement to attend to with Carmila.”

The lawyer stammered,” yes of course ma’am my apologies.”

“It reads:

‘First, I hereby denounce all previous wills made by myself, Vlad Masters, no matter nature or kind.

Second I Vlad Masters hereby appoint,” the lawyer paused making a face before he continued,” Madeline Fenton love of my life as the executor of my estate, networth, and-” the lawyer paused,” the ownership of my beloved cat ‘Maddie the cat, the third-”

“Huh, I guess you listened to my suggestion after all and got a cat.” Danny muttered as at the same moment his mother reached her breaking point

“You what?” Maddie was standing out of her chair, indignation flaring in her eyes,” Vlad! I don’t want any of this.”

“But but,” Danny tuned the man out as he made the normal declarations of love. Trite at this point his mind was already trying to entertain itself. Fast forwarding this would be nice, if only his core was time based. But no he got Ice, and Weather, and other weird disconnected powers. He was electrocuted to death! Cruel that he didn’t get cool electrocution powers.

They were still arguing when he tuned back in. Loath wasn’t a powerful enough describer for this love diatribe that Vlad spewed every three to five business days. His mom yelled something back, a few of the ex wives even chiming in agreement. Well at least they didn’t hate mom that was a plus.

He shot Jazz a look as he repositioned his phone camera to get a better shot.

‘This again?’ he tried to communicated with his expressions. Tuck usually laughed when he tried and Sam told him he looked to constipated.

She shrugged and nodded as if to say ‘this again.’

“I am happily married! I told you I won't leave Jack for you!”

Tuning out the conversation didn’t seem to leave out many details. Everything was falling exactly into the same patterns as always.

“Maddie please-” the billionaire tried to beg.

This made the woman snap,” no don’t Maddie please me! You have not respected my decision to marry Jack since it happened, well guess what Vlad it’s too late for you! You were never even an option!” she turned to Jack and put a hand on his shoulder. her voice much softer when she spoke,” come on honey we’re leaving. Kids?” She turned to the two Fenton children. The both of them stood with no protest. Like hell they were going to end up on the wrong side of their mother right now. Mission orientated as she was they had no doubt she could commit Vlad's murder and get away with it. legally she might even considering the fact that he was technically a 'ghost' right now.

Just as she was about to step out the door she turned,” oh and ladies, don’t worry about a legal battle I’ll work with our family lawyer to transfer everything to all of you.”

There were some small thanks from the stunned Exes as the office door latched shut behind them.

The air in the car was-

Well the word tense didn’t really sum up the air but it was the best approximation that Danny had. It could have gone worse, he supposed he could have genuinely ended up fighting Vlad again. Chances where that if he fought Vlad while he was Plasmius that the formerly rich business mogul would then use the moment to out Danny as Phantom. Not just his family but all of the church. If he had to rate the evening it was definitely not as bad as he expected. About a six or seven, depending on his critical he was being.

“Uh so who won the bet?” he whispered to Jazz. he wasn’t worried about his parents, Maddie was soothingly rubbing circles on Jack’s back as the man drove. That and they were sat in the back, sometimes the front seats struggled to hear them at a normal level forget a whisper.

Jazz furrowed her brows,” I guess neither of us really won, he didn’t even go ghost.”

Nodding, he thought back to the man’s loud entrance,” He also didn’t say what rumour got him up.”

“So do we both lose?”

“I guess?” he looked over to his parents,” so we both tell them?”

Jazz sighed leaning back in her seat, hair dramatically laying behind her,” yeah I guess.”

“You don’t hav-”

Jazz cut him off with a snort,” no it’s fine, my things not really as big all things considered.”

Fair, she had a point with that. Their parents already knew that she was interested in men and women but still revealing partners to them was always weird and nerve wracking. The first time he’d introduced Sam and Tuck as partners and not friends he’d expected a lot more questions. Turns out if you hunt ghosts for a living nothing is really weird after that. They just bought him new sex ed books. Sentiment appreciated but still weird considering he could google that sort of thing now.

“So Danny,” his mom said, her fingers tightened on her phone. They were lucky she got old brick Nokias instead of those new Smart phones. She’d break them in a week. Jack wasn’t paying them much attention as he drove, he seemed to still be shell shocked. Hopefully he didn't crash, okay so maybe he didn't always like car rides. Sometimes the looming threat of a car crash really messed with his obsession.

“Yeah mom?” he asked.

“I was talking to some of the ladies.”

“Uh huh?” wherever she was going with this he didn’t like the tone.

“And imagine my surprise when one of them tells me Vlad has a daughter.”

“Weird right,” he said. Please stop, please stop! He begged, wherever this was going it was nowhere good. It would have been better if he’d just died in that accident. Screw whatever he thought back when he thought his luck was turning up. He was still the most unlucky bastard in all of amity park.

She hummed in agreement,” and imagine my surprise when they said she was your cousin.”

Danny didn’t have a response to that, Jazz was stifling a laugh next to him.

“And then,” she said,” she showed me a picture of her.”

“Really.”

“Yeah, Danny," there was a pause as she seemed to collect her words," why does she look like you pre transition?”

“Does she?” sweating wasn’t really something he did so much anymore, not since his core started cooling his mortal flesh, it was nice sometimes. But it didn’t stop nervous sweating. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Hadn’t- Danny,” his mother sighed,” sweetie if you want to start presenting as a girl again you can. We won’t judge you.”

Wait what, “ what?!”

Shrieking loud bursts of laughter came out of Jazz.

“Jazz!”

That set him off, it was just so ridiculous.

“Honey I’m serious,” his mom sounded so upset her tone lost. She really was trying.

He couldn’t help it, it wasn’t his fault. It was just so out of the realm of what was happening. Man his parents really didn’t have any of the facts.

“Danny?” his father asked the tenseness in his shoulders from the funeral leaving way to confusion.

Him and Jazz made eye contact and the laughing got so much worse. If being part dead didn’t make him need to breathe so much less he’d be choking. He’d die, it was just- they still didn’t know and somehow that was all the funnier. God he was calling Tuck and Sam right after he explained everything they were going to get such a kick out of this. Especially Tucker.

“That’s not-” wheezes high and stringy, cutting him off, he was struggling even with his ghost lungs.

“Danny my boy,” Jack asked quietly,” what’s funny?”

“We’re trying to support you Danny!” his mother exclaimed.

Finally he quelled the laughter enough to speak,” okay okay,” he whipped a tear from his eye. “I’ll explain it all it just probably isn’t something dad needs to be driving for.”

“Danny what do-”

“Just trust me okay?” he grinned at his mom in what he hoped was reassurance.

She sighed and looked at her husband, Jack furrowed his brows and the pair silently communicated before the man hit his turning signal.

The small side road was perfectly out of the way enough that no one would be able to peer in. It was some half abandoned picnic area but none of them reached for their seatbelts to leave the car. It was just the closest spot they could stop.

“Okay,” he started giving Jazz a look, she nodded comfortingly,” Remember how the portal didn’t work at first?”

It took them a moment but they nodded in remembrance.

“Right well I died.” it was best to just rip the Band-Aid off.

“What?”

“Danny- honey you’re not dead.”

He thought so at least, he sighed pinching his nose,” I need you guys to wait for questions till the end okay?”

“But honey you’re not dead!” she didn’t sound so sure as she looked him over.

“What your mother said my boy! You’re sitting right there!”

Danny groaned,” guys please?” there was a pause as they looked at each other and finally finally agreed to wait till the end. “Sam said I should check it out, see if I could fix it. I put on my suit, and,” he made a buzzing noise with his tongue,” the button shocked me to death when I hit it. It was dark so I didn't see,” he looked to the side. The trees outside were swaying peacefully in the wind. Jazz put a hand on his shoulder, he took a steading breath and clenched the hand with the thin invisible scars. “It was an accident but,” he turned back to them resolution in his eyes,” I died that day, When I woke up, well, brace yourselves okay,” he let the tugging cold of hic core shift and change his appearance.

There was silence. He’d expected something but, no, even Jazz wasn’t saying anything.

He cracked an eye open, his parents were staring at him dumbfounded. Yeah that was about par for the course.

“Well this happened and now, I’m half Ghost,” he admitted,” everyone in the ghost zone knows that’s why there were always so many attacks at the school.”

“Half?” his mom asked despite herself.

Danny nodded,” yeah I still age, and need to eat and breath... mostly on that last one. It’s kind of cool I can go invisible,” he demonstrated before changing back,” and phase through things and float,” he demonstrated both in succession allowing the belt to glide through him as he hovered up an inch. “Shoot Ecto-blasts… probably best if I don’t do that one in the car though,” he laughed.

“Okay,” his mom said.

“Okay?” he asked.

His father nodded,” sure Son, we love you. It’s weird but, well we hunt ghosts for a living.”

He laughed,” yeah fair enough.”

"I-" his mom looked over at Jack," We're proud of you sweetie, that's a lot to undertake at so young."

he chuckled," it wasn't so bad, I had a lot of help," he grinned at Jazz," Between her Sam and Tuck I don't know if I would have lasted half the battles I did."

"You knew Jazz?" Their father asked his tone soft and slightly hurt.

She smiled softly," yeah, I walked in on him transforming. Thought it was best if I let him tell you guys."

"Part of the apprehension might have been the dissection thing," Danny addmited.

"I- honey-" his mom put a hand over her mouth in shock.

"I'm sorry son," His dad said," it was closed minded of us to assume stuff about ghosts we didn't know."

"Well you weren't always wrong. Just usually."

“So ‘Elle?” his mom prompted before Jack could pepper in questions about what the got right.

He sighed,” yeah her full name is Danielle, technically she’s the only living clone of me Vlad made.”

“Only living Clone?”

“Vlad made?”

Man he had a lot to explain. Years of events just gone unsaid. Some small part of the divide between them was shifting, growing smaller.

“Is now a good time to tell you guys I have a girlfriend?”

Danny choked on a laugh. Not to long after his parents followed after the tension disrupted, Well at least he had Jazz to help explain. Sam and Tucker too when they weren’t busy. It'd be a mess and weird to finally clear the air between them, but at least he knew they were proud of him.

#My writing #danny phantom #trans danny fenton #trans danny phantom #everlasting trio #thats their ship name right? its not like super there its minor but ye #danny phantom exists in my brain in vague memories and nothing else #only the smallest amounts of cannon may be contained in this fic #idk i dont have enough brain to know tho #danphanwritingprompts

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wagner-fell · 3 years ago

Text

I am still very new to this website and I don’t know how link a post but this fic is based on a post by @sandersgrey

(If someone reading this knows how to link a post please either explain it to me or link it in the comments because that post is *amazing*)

“Hmmm,” said Tessa, depositing Mina into Kit’s waiting arms and examining her buzzing phone critically. She shot a quizzical look in his direction.

Jem looked up from his novel. “What is ‘hmmm’, my love?”

Kit mimed vomiting but stopped dead in his tracks when she replied, “it’s Astrid’s mother. You remember her from parent teacher night, don’t you, my darling?” Kit swears they were being extra insufferable just to mess with him but he didn’t have the time to be annoyed when Astrid’s. Mom. Was. Calling. Tessa.

To understand why Kit was panicking as much as he was, you must know that Astrid’s mom was incredibly chill. She never got mad. The worst punishment she’d ever given her daughter was taking away her iPod for a week so she couldn’t listen to Mitski.

Was she calling about last night when Astrid, Mari and Kit threw eggs at the Shadowhunter’s that were giving Mari’s pack a hard time for no reason? No, that couldn’t be it. She’d given them the eggs.

Could the call be about the day before yesterday when Kit and Astrid got distracted doing homework and ended up snapping the coffee table clean in half while battling gladiator style with pool noodles? No, that wasn’t it. She’d just handed Astrid a twenty and told them to go to Kevin’s parents' shop and get a new one. Was she pissed because they ended up spending the money on ice cream instead? No, they ended up finding a table for free in the rubbing bin outside a fancy hotel.

Kit clutched his sister to his chest and prepared for the worst.

“Seo-yoon! What can I do for- Oh, hello Astrid!” Tessa paused briefly, presumably to listen to Astrid speak, and Kit sighed in relief.

“Kit is occupied at the moment but I can relay the message.” Another pause. “Oh don’t be frightened of me. I’m a tots rad mom. Your secret is safe with me.” Kit felt his face flush red as he heard his best friend’s laughter echo across the living room. “Okay! I’ll let him know. He has to get Mina to sleep before he can leave though. Lord knows he’s the only one who can these days.” Tessa chuckled at something Astrid said before wishing her good luck in her endeavour and ending the call.

She turned her attention back to Kit. “Astrid needs your help breaking into your teacher’s home to retrieve her cell phone.”

Kit blinked at her, dumbfounded. “You aren’t mad I’m going to go break the law?”

Because of course he was doing it. Astrid’s dad had bought it for her and he was extremely cautious about money. That was one of three things Kit knew about her dad. He was cheap, he lived in America and he loved the movie Fight Club.

Tessa ruffled Kit’s hair affectionately. “Please. I’ve raised two other Herondales. At least I know about this particular adventure beforehand.”

Mina began snoring softly and Kit handed her back to her mother. He grabbed his bag and started his journey to the door when Tessa added, “she also told me to say hi to a ‘daddy Kit’. Are you ‘daddy Kit?’”

‘Daddy Kit’ closed his eyes and wished for the sweet release of death.

“Why is Kit a daddy,” Jem asked, genuinely confused. “Aren’t I the daddy?”

Kit swung the door open so fast not even a speed rune could have aided him. But not before I heard Tessa reply, “Lily Chen certainly thinks so.”

Mrs. MacNamara clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we all go around and say a few things about ourselves?”

Kit buried his face into his hands. He’d been relieved when no other teacher had fulfilled the Disney channel stereotype of making every student introduce themselves to the new kid. But Mrs. MacNamara didn’t even seem to realize what she was doing.

All Kit’s fellow classmates groan. Expect one. Her hand shot up immediately. She was short, like smaller than Clary short. She wore a baggy pink shirt with the words ‘Queen Glimmer of Etheria’ sewed on with purple sequins and tight black jeans. Her colourful, choppy hair was in a low ponytail and she flew a few strands out of her eyes as her hand wiggled in the hair.

Mrs. MacNamara pointed at her. She stood up and smiled at Kit. “Hi. My name is Astrid. My hobbies include making my little cousin’s girl Barbies kiss, as it should be, and watching television shows where everyone is a terrible person so you can love all of them!”

“And what shows might that be?” asked Kit, already in the process of pulling out his phone and opening the Notes app.

“Grey’s Anatomy, Glee, Grey’s Anatomy again because it’s seventeen seasons as of right now. And to be fair it practically became a different show when they killed off Mark Sloan.”

“That’s enough, Miss Yang,” said Mrs. MacNamara. Astrid sat down and winked at Kit. Then she took out her phone and airdropped him a complete list of all her favorite shows, along with her number.

After Blessica’s pre-birthday birthday party, they went to Cirenworth and stayed up till four A.M. binging them.

They met outside a queer dry bar called Aries Not Welcome, the unspoken gathering place of the Merry Hoes. It was run by a poly lesbian couple in their mid-thirties. Quinn, Sydney and Aliyah may not have served alcohol but at least they were open 24/7.

“Did you bring the shit?”

Kit gave her a look. “The shit? How conclusive.”

“Shut up. You know, the shadowhunter thing.”

“The shadowhunter thing?”

“The, the, the glow stick that you draw with.”

“The glow stick that I draw wi-“ Kit closed his eyes briefly. “Do you mean a stele?”

Astrid snapped her fingers. “That’s it!” Kit shook his head in exasperation, smiling fondly. “I borrowed a torch from Quinn, let’s move.”

“Should I be worried that you know where Mr. Smith lives?” questioned Kit as he followed Astrid’s lead through the park.

“Should I be worried that your mom was fine with us breaking and entering?” she shot back playfully. Kit pushed Astrid and she fell off the path, laughing all the way.

“You called me ‘daddy’ to my mom’s face.”

She just laughed harder, slinging her arm around Kit’s shoulder. “It was over the phone, Christopher. And as I should.”

“Pffffttt. Why did you get your phone taken anyway?” She put her hands into her jumper pocket and looked at the ground. “Astrid.” She remained silent. “Astrid?”

She mumbled something under her breath. “What?” asked Kit.

“I WAS READING NINEJ FANFICTION!” she shouted.

Kit gasped. “I thought you were a die hard Kanej shipper,” he whispered.

“I’m a multishipper, okay?!” she replied, equally quiet.

“Does Blessica know?”

She shook her head. “And she will never find out.”

Kit saw the opportunity and he seized it. “She’ll never find out as long as you never call me daddy in front of either of my parents.”

She removed her arm from his shoulder and guided them out of the park, in the direction of the many apartments that lined this side of town. “I hate you.”

“Well, so does Mari. You're not special, Ast.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know Mari doesn’t actually hate you, right?! They’re just still in the enemy phase of your enemies-to-lovers romance. She only dislikes you because they feel something for you but they don’t know what so she interrupts it as loathing. In reality, her inner soul knows you’re hot and shmexie.”

Kit didn’t know how to process this so he just nodded and follow Astrid in silence to Mr. Smith’s house. (Plus, he was kinda glad that, according to his best friend, he had a little more time for Mari to ‘discover their true feelings’. If Kit screwed this up, he was out of countries to run off to.)

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What,” asked Kit, turning around to face Astrid and closing the drawer he was rifling through. “Did you find your phone?”

“Yeah. But I also found Blessica’s. She was Snapping Kevin. Platonic my ass. But he took the fucking trans flag out of her phone!”

Kit snatched Blessica’s phone out of her hand to examine it for herself. She was telling the truth. Where the glitter pride flag usually rested was just a clear purple case. Kit couldn’t believe his eyes.

“It’s one thing to misgender her every day.” Blessica had forced all four of the other Merry Hoes to sign a contract saying they wouldn’t do anything to harm him because of it. “But this is the last straw. You know what we have to do.” Oops.

“Yeah, but we don’t have any spray paint.”

Kit eyed Mr. Smith’s pink sofa, blue bar stool covers and white picture frames. “I think I have something better in mind.”

It would have been easier for both parties to just zip off the sofa cushions and tape them to the wall but by ripping them off in strips, they ensured he would have to buy new ones. And judging by the car he drove and the fiji water in his fridge, Mr. Smith could definitely afford it.

That reminded him, “I’ll finish up with this. Go put all his fiji water into my bag.” Astrid saluted him and ran off. “Wait.” She stopped and looked at him. “Steal all the remotes you can find.”

“How is he not awake?,” asked Astrid as they ripped the fabric of his seating from the stool.

He shrugged. “Don’t question it.” He shoved the bundle of cloth into her arms. “Glue this above the pink. I’ll handle the frames.”

“Say the magic word,” she sang.

“Please?”

“No. Lesbian. Come on, I thought you knew me better than that.”

Kit laughed quietly. “Can you lesbian glue this above the pink?”

She grinned at Kit. “It would be my pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hello! Sorry I haven’t written anything in so long. School just restarted and it has been…a lot.

@adoravel-fenomeno @thechangeling @the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @noah-herondale-lightwood @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @maxboythedog @book-dragon-not-worm @hardlymatters

Very sorry if I forgot anyone. Lmk if you want to be addEd/removEd from the tag list.

#mari the werewolf #mari machado sotomayor #mari machado #kit rook #kit herondale #astrid yang #blessica reyes #Kevin chu #tessa grey #jem carstairs #lily chen #mina carstairs

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fly-flower-fanfics · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do a Spencer Reid X Reader where the Reader is ftm and binds with ace bandages? The unsub can be targeting transgender people and targets the reader. Nothing too bad to the reader preferably but something happens to make the bandages visable. I know that binding with bandages is bad because I did it until I got a binder.

Sorry this took me so long. I’ve been out of it lately, so this is my first writing piece getting back into the swing of things, so I’m sorry if it’s bad. I hope this is something you were looking for!

Binding Secrets

Spencer Reid x Trans Male Reader

Warnings: ACE bandage binding. PLEASE don’t bind like this. 🥺

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This case was really stressful to me. It stressed me out more than other cases usually did. I’m sure the team has picked up on it, but I didn’t want to tell them why I was so stressed out. That was my secret and my secret alone.

There was no way I was going to be able to come out to the team. After I’ve gotten top surgery, then maybe, maybe, but certainly not now. Being transgender was a crime, it felt like. It was to this unsub apparently.

It was late and time for all of us to go home. The I could take these stupid ACE bandages off. I felt like my lungs were collapsing; it hurt to breathe. I knew that it wasn’t safe, especially for a job like mine where we have to be on the move a decent amount, but I hadn’t gotten around to buying a binder yet.

I was stopped by Spencer just before I got into my car, though. Part of me didn’t mind because I had a crush on the genius, but another part of me did mind because I was tired, and I just wanted to go home.

“What’s up, Spence?” I asked.

He hesitated a moment, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I’m worried about you,” he said softly at first. He then cleared his throat. “You’ve been acting different lately, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” I said with a soft smile. Was I?

“Y/N, I can tell when you’re lying to me. You have a tell, just like everyone else. Please...”

I felt bad lying to him, But I couldn’t tell him. My throat tightened like I was going to cry. “I need you to drop it, Spence,” I said softly

“Why? Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Because I can’t, Spencer!”

He shook his head, dropping his arms by his side. “This is exactly what I get when I trust someone; it gets thrown back in my face.”

“Spencer, that’s not what this fucking is!” I yelled at him, tears now streaming down my cheeks.

Spencer’s demeanor changed completely as he noticed my tears.

“It has nothing to do with you, Spencer,” I said, wiping at my face aggressively. I hated that I was crying so easily. But I knew it was because of my stress and how close I was to snapping.

Truth was was that I was scared. I was scared that I would be the next victim. That I wouldn’t be safe in my own home. All because I was trans and some guy out there thought that that was a crime and needed to kill me for it.

“Y/N....”

I shook my head, holding up a hand. “Save it. I’m sorry for yelling at you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go home now.” With that, I got into my car and left.

The next day, I was really anxious to see Spencer. I had already apologized for yelling at him, but that didn’t change the fact that I had yelled at him.

I went to the bathroom and grabbed my ACE bandage, looking at it sadly. I hated that stupid thing. I could feel it practically squishing my ribs and lungs. I hated it so much. I couldn’t just not wear it though. I didn’t need the team seeing my chest.

I began wrapping it around and secured it in place once I was finished. I took a breath and sighed. At least it wasn’t too bad in the beginning of the day.

I made my way to my car and began to drive to work. The anxiety of seeing Spencer returned. I felt bad. Maybe I should apologize again. I pulled into my parking spot and shook my head. No, if he still had beef with me, he would say so, right?

I walked to my desk and set my things down, going to grab a coffee. As I made it, I was already making a face because I knew how bad;y it would taste.

“You know, I have to make my coffee deliberately bad so I can drink it now,” I said to Morgan, who has just walked in.

He laughed. “I know what you mean. However, I still like a good cup of joe.”

I chuckled softly and went back to my desk, looking over the case file. We had a pretty good idea who the unsub was. We had just been waiting on Garcia to get the right information about him.

The team quickly left, leaving Spencer and me behind, as they went to catch the unsub.

My gaze turned toward the genius again. His hair looked soft as it framed his face. His beautiful eyes intently read whatever book he was reading. His perfect hands turned the pages every couple of seconds.

Best not to disturb him.

I looked over the last bits of information as I was clearing off the board to make a little bit more room when I realized something. The gate. How had we missed that? The gates were his signature, doors to whatever he thought. I couldn’t figure out that part. But it made me realize that now, the team was going after the wrong guy.

I quickly grabbed my coat and ran out to my car. I had to catch this guy before he caught someone else. I swallowed hard as I threw my car into gear. Who else would be better bait for this guy than a trans man like myself?

I made my wait to the gate that was in the last picture and entered the abandoned house. This was where the last victim was found, but we had figured that he liked to revisit the crime scenes. I was just banking on the fact that he hadn’t revisited this one since it had been blocked off for a couple of days.

I drew my gun and tip-toed quietly through the halls. A squeaky floorboard gave away my position, and I froze. Had he heard? Was he even here? I shook my head and continued down the hallway.

I heard a noise from behind me. I turned, but I wasn’t able to see what or who it was before something hit me in the face and knocked me out.

I woke up, dazed and confused. I tried to move but realized that my arms were tied behind me and I was stuck to a pole. I jerked to try and free myself, but it was useless.

The unsub walked over to me, twirling a knife around his fingers. “Y/N L/N, I am familiar with you. The only trans member in the BAU, isn’t that right?”

I sneered at him, still trying to free myself. “So the fuck what? How do you even know who I am?”

“Oh, I know a lot more than you may think,” he said, walking up to me and lifting my chin with the knife. “But that’s all surprise for later on.”

He slashed at the sleeve of my coat with his knife. “First, we play a game. It’s called Tell Me The Truth Or I’ll Take One Article Of Clothing At A Time.”

“Long title of a stupid ass game,” I muttered to myself, mentally cringing. Sometimes I hated that I was always so snippy.

He slashed at the other sleeve of my coat. “Got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

His stupid little game continued as I tried my best to keep my mouth shut. But it seemed like no matter what I did, he was slashing at my clothing. There was no sign of sexual assault on the victims, but did he do this to all of them? Somehow, I couldn’t seem to remember anything about this unsub.

My knees shook as fear began to take over my body. What would happen when he shredded my clothing to the point that there was nothing left of them? Would he go to my skin next? One of the victims was all slashed up, I think. I shook my head, trying to keep m mind clear. I needed to be safe long enough for someone to find me.

A hand around my neck made me look up and realize the unsub was behind me now, holding the knife to my neck. My eyes fell to a person standing at the base of the stairs: Spencer Reid. My heart filled with joy. Thank god for Spencer and his big brain.

“Put the gun down or I’ll kill her,” the unsub said, pressing the knife deeper into my throat.

I winced, but at the misgendering, not the knife.

“He’s a he,” Spencer replied, holding his gun in the same position as he was five seconds ago.

“I said, put the damn gun away!”

The knife bit my skin, causing me to cry out. This made Spencer put his gun away.

“All right, all right, look. The gun’s away. It’s away. Let him go.”

“I’m not letting her go. People like her need to be fixed. They’re mentally ill.”

My stomach tightened at the midgenderment. It sucked because he was going to tell Spencer my secret. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out everything that was happening. Things would be okay. They had to be okay. I had to believe that. I had to believe that I’d make it out of here. I prayed Spencer wouldn’t tell the rest of the team my secret.

All I ever wanted was to be seen as a real boy...

The next thing I knew, my hands were being untied and there was a slight ringing in my ears. I looked down next to me to see the unsub, dead. Spencer must have been able to convince him to get far enough away from me for him to draw his gun and shoot the guy before either one of us got stabbed.

“Y/N, are you all right?” I nodded, and Spencer pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay. We’ll get you new clothing. Do you want to come to my house?”

I guess it was obvious to Spencer that I didn’t want to be alone. I nodded silently and he led me out to his car. “We’ll come back for yours later,” he promised me.

At this point, I didn’t really care. My head hurt from being knocked out, and my chest was aching all over again.

Our car ride was mostly silent, but Spencer spoke up. “How did you know it was him?”

“The gate,” I replied. “Something about the gates never lined up in my head. But then it reminded me of why he always kept the eyes open. They were like portals. To what, I’m not sure...”

Spencer nodded and hesitated before speaking again. “You’re binding unsafely...”

I didn’t know what he was talking about until i looked down. My shirt was shredded, and it was easy to see the ACE bandages that was supposed to be hidden. I cursed myself, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Please don’t tell anyone, Spence. I don’t want them to know I-I didn’t want anyone to know...”

“Is that why this case bothered you so much?”

I didn’t say anything, but my silence was probably the clearest answer. Spencer didn’t say anything else until we got to his house. He led me inside and sat me down on the couch.

“I can grab you some clothing to borrow for tonight, but I need you to take that bandage off. You’re going to ruin your changes for top surgery. It can seriously hurt you. it can crack or break ribs and-”

“I know, Spencer,” I said softly. “But I can’t. I’m scared...”

“My shirt’s will be big enough on you. I promise. And if you want, I’ll stay in my room all night so I won’t see you without it on. You...” He stopped a moment. He closed his eyes for a second before looking at me again. “You can borrow one of my old binders tomorrow. It may not fit perfectly, but it’s so much better than that bandage.” Spencer sat next to me on the couch.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Spencer....Spencer had just come out to me as trans. I couldn’t believe it. He was trans this whole time too? My emotions welled up in my chest, and I felt like crying all over again.

“I love you,” I blurted out. Immediately, I felt myself blush, and I regretted my words.

Spencer only smiled at me. “I love you; I always have.”

I looked down at my lap, feeling a tear drip down my cheek. “Spence, I’m scared... I-I love you. But I’m so scared...”

“Of what?”

“Of what the team will say. That...that you’ll hate me for being trans...”

“Y/N, I can’t hate you for being trans when I’m trans myself.” Spencer took my hands in his. “If you want to leave the confessions alone for tonight, I understand. You’ve been though a lot. We can talk more in the morning when you have a clearer mind. Just promise me you’ll take that ACE bandage off.”

“I promise,” I said quietly.

Spencer stood and pressed a light kiss onto my forehead. “Thank you. Now let me go grab you those clothing so you can turn in for the night. I’ll be here if you need anything at all.” He got up and began to walk down the hallway to his bedroom.

“Spencer?” I called out.

He stopped and looked back at me from the doorway. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#spencer reid #x male reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x male reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x trans male #x trans reader #x trans male reader #trans spencer reid

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guessimwritingficsagain · 4 years ago

Text

To be seen, part Three (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Summary : The birthday party comes and goes. You're pining but get a grim reminder that Frankie has a daughter (and a spouse ?). You want to take a step back from that blooming relationship but things don't go according to plan. You want to surprise Jessie with a nice present.

Author’s note : I rewrote this thing like 4 times but here we are. Just so we are clear, we are NOT about to have a lot triangle between OFC, Frankie, and random new character James. I just want OFC to have some wholesome relationships and to be her own person besides her new relationship with Frankie and the boys (which, btw, a writer, a friend of mine actually, told me "sometimes you write about what you can't have" and boy didn't that hurt because I'm currently in the process of grieving a friendship that could have been so good if not for the fact that we have very different ways of seeing friendship ... so I guess that James comes from that, a little). The former version had Frankie being more forward but I do like a slooooow burn and also it felt OOC.

Anyway,

the song Sweet is by Porridge Radio.

The song Canción sin Miedo is by Vivir Quintana.

The French radio that only plays women, trans and NB people is a real thing : it's called Radio Tempête and I like it very much. Give it a try !

There had been questions. Linda had grilled you hard and actually told you to go for it. It felt nice, all of it, up until you’d asked Linda why she was here. She'd grown sheepish.

« I need a new start. A change of pace. And I- I miss you, not, you know, like that, but I miss my friend, and I figured a new start with an old friend, that could be nice. »

You’d nodded, wondering if there was something she was not telling you, but figuring she’d get to it in her own time. In the meantime, she was here. And it was nice. She got along immediately with both Jessie and Anna and could make Phil laugh like no one else. Still, there were things that you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You two had a history, just like you had with Jessie and Anna, but not the same kind and five years was a long time not to see each other.

That’s why you waited until Linda was playing with Clara to tell Jessie, quietly :

« That fifth guy who used to hang out with the boys ? »

Jessie looked surprised. She was usually the one fishing for information. You knew why you were telling her that : to share the epiphany you had, to remind her, and yourself, that these men were real people. And maybe, just maybe, to remind her in a way that there was a real world out there.

« He’s dead. »

The air grew quiet at that. You looked at her face. She nodded, juste the once. And then, never brought the boys up the way she used to. She asked for news, once in a while, but never again in the giddy way she used to do it.

———

Right. So maybe, maybe, you’d gone a little overboard with that birthday party, but the kid had lost her father a year ago and she deserved nice things.

Right ?

They didn’t have to know the bar didn’t actually own fancy, festive plates and an army of balloons. Besides, everybody had pitched in. And Phil had made an extra nice menu. It’d been a team effort, really. Except that when Linda came in to grab a coffee after work - she was working at the local bookstore and that made your heart clench a little - she raised her eyebrows and said :

« You said seventeen, right ? Because I think you’re going for seven, here. »

So. You were a bit nervous, which, what the hell ?? They weren’t your friends. They were paying consumers. Except you were fooling yourself there because you were pretty sure that paying consumers didn’t quite cover it.

But when Santi came in with her, the girl swallowed by a huge scarf to protect her from November’s chilly air, you saw the smile on her face, you knew it’d been worth it. Santi actually came and hugged you and whispered « thank you, Starbuck » before giving Anna a high-five.

Yeah, the Starbuck thing had stuck. And you might have started calling Santiago Santi.

You were introduced to the birthday girl -Sarah- who was lovely and perhaps, you realized quickly, a tiny bit smitten with Anna, in a when-I-grow-up-I-wanna-be-her kind of way. Anna, of course, was completely oblivious. They sat down at the counter first, waiting for their friends to get here, her with a coke, him with a beer, and you were content to just let them be. It was a moment you felt was too private for your tentative relationship.

Sarah hugged Frankie as he came in and you did not let your mind wonder what it would feel like. Beers to serve. Mind out of the gutter. But he came to find you, and he looked at you with those soft eyes and he leaned in a bit and you couldn’t help but smile. And he smiled back, elbows on the counter, so close.

« You didn’t have to do all that. »

His voice was barely a whisper, and you answered the same way :

« I know. »

He was looking at you like he was seeing you and you got that warm feeling again, at the center of your belly. There was nothing, for a few seconds, except his brown eyes, until Anna cleared her throat and you were reminded you were at work. You turned back to get a beer for Frankie, but were interrupted again by a hand on your arm. Anna was looking at you and asked, as quietly as possible :

« What was that ? »

Her eyes were kind, there was no teasing in her voice but you shrugged the question off anyway. You didn’t know what that was. And it wasn’t the time nor the place.

———

The birthday party had been a success, and the night would have been perfect if not for Phil’s pragmatism. He knew you, he could tell, and your little admission a while back, when under the fire of Linda’s questioning that maybe you had a tiny little crush hadn’t fooled him.

Oh, the mortifying ordeal of being known.

He’d came up to you when you’d been cleaning the coffee machine and he’d said :

« He has a kid, you know that. »

He’d left it at that, knowing it was enough.

And that was just the thing, right : you knew. And with kids usually came a spouse. He probably had a lovely one, someone pretty and smart and funny and soft just like he was. So you’d decided to take some emotional distance, just to keep it professional. Paying costumers, after all.

Of course you were fooling yourself, you were protecting yourself from something that had the possibility to break you heart. And that, that was the worst part, the scary part, because you remembered vividly not thinking about Linda that way and then she’d said I like you, I really like you, you know, in a way that makes me want to make out with you. And you’d realized you liked her in a way that made you want to make out with her too. Back then the closet had been a thing, a hard one to get out of, even though your parents loved you unconditionally, no matter how many tattoos they disapproved of covered your body, no matter who you dated. You just hadn’t realized what you’d felt for her until she’d spelled it out for you. It’d been beautiful and simple and safe.

Here, though, you were thirsting on a man a tiny bit older than you, who had a daughter, who was probably married. And you’d been avoiding thinking about that, and he never mentioned anyone. But you knew you needed to get a grip on those spiraling feelings.

You needed to refocus, and in doing so, you realized something that filled you with shame and guilt : you’d overlooked Jessie entirely. The Christmas Holidays were coming up and you hadn’t made any plans with her. You’d been so caught up in your world that, for the first time in years, you forgot about her. The fact she worked day shifts and you night shifts now meant that you saw less of each other. And since Linda got here, and the boys were around more, and you didn’t need to babysit Clara as much, you’d seen even less of her.

But you had a plan.

———

The plan showed up on your doorstep a few days later, greeting you when you opened the door with :

« I hope you finally threw away that ugly couch and that the new one is comfortable. »

Here he stood, in all of his stupid glory : James. Their parents probably had a weird sense of humor to call their first born Jessie and their second one James. Or maybe you had a weird sense of humor for noticing it.

Here’s a bit of a backstory : James was your age, and you’d actually been friends since you were ten. Attached-to-the-hip kind of friends. I-don’t-care-about-anyone-else kind of friends. He used to be your only friend, back then, because he was just enough. Jessie, being five years older, had no real interest in you whatsoever so you only befriended her later, when her ass of an ex-husband skipped town and you got a panicked call from James one morning asking if you could help his sister to find a job because she used to be a stay-at-home mom and now she really needed the cash. James couldn’t come home to help her, so you’d had to help Jessie. Not that it’d been a problem.

And James, James was spectacular in the way he never settled for anything. He’d left home to go to Harvard and then became a bloody CIA agent because why not. Except he hadn’t liked that so he’d quit the bloody CIA and opened a restaurant in Washington. The President of the United States of America ate there, on a regular basis.

(Sometimes, when life got too hard and you got too caught up in your own mind, and you felt you weren’t enough, you wondered why a man like that bothered to skype you twice a month, and one time, drunk and alone on your birthday, you’d left him a voicemail asking him that very thing and he’d given you so much shit for that you never asked again. You were his girl, forever and always.)

So you’d called him, explained the whole Jessie thing, and the guilt that came with it.

Now there he was, ready to hide in your apartment while you got everything set to give your girl Jessie the surprise she deserved. You let Phil and Anna in on the secret that was James, just so he could come to the bar when he wanted and no one would tell Jessie about it.

That’s how you found yourself jumping slightly at the abrupt change of a song, one night at the bar, and you declared, knowing who it was :

« Costumers don’t get to change the music. »

The only answer you got was a laugh. You turned around to see James, bending over the counter to get to the computer, all crinkled eyes and white teeth.

« Don’t tell me you don’t like hearing Sweet. » He quipped.

« I like that song », you explained as you secretly rejoiced in hearing the familiar notes. « But that doesn’t mean you get to play anything you want. I know you, you get too comfortable. »

He sat down at the bar, a bit away from the boys who were joking and laughing at the counter. Benny had won his fight and got a girl’s number so it was a good night for him, the kind of night you didn’t want to intrude on. Except you wished you could, and that, that was a red flag in itself because usually, when James was around, there was nobody else in the world but you still thought about Frankie, about how you wished you were sitting on the other side of the counter, pressed against him, laughing at whatever it was that had been said. Paying consumers, right ?

You’d been serving beers left and right, only stopping a moment to get another round to the boys when you heard :

« Where the fuck is that French radio playlist ? You know, radio that only plays songs by women, trans and non-binary people ? I know you have one, can’t seem to find it. »

« James. »

You turned around. He was standing behind the counter.

« How on earth did you get there ? »

« I jumped. You were busy, didn’t see it. Anyway. That playlist ? There’s some good shit on that. Though we might want to avoid the songs too obviously sexual, right ? »

You let out the biggest sigh. Of course he'd jumped. Of course he’d find that absolutely normal. You waived him away and got to find the playlist.

« I wanna hear Canción sin Miedo. » He added, all but propped up on the counter.

« Get down. Also your accent is shit. » You hissed. You complied, though.

As the Mexican song started playing, Will gave you a look.

« That’s Jessie’s brother. » You explained, your voice still a touch exasperated.

« But that’s a secret. » James added, still very much sitting on the counter. He smiled and said : « Hi, I’m James. Like Bond. James Bond. Nobody ever saw the two of us in the same room, by the way. »

He winked and you ugly snorted.

———

The noise was overwhelming and the place reeked of beer and sweat but Anna was steering you gently through the crowd and Linda’s hand was grounding, on your shoulder. MMA fights were not your scene but Benny had asked and Anna had said yes before you could get a word in. You’d called Linda in a panic, muttering you know how I get in crowded spaces and she’d offered to come.

You still didn’t know how Anna managed to get your boss to give you both the day off for that but you were glad.

You heard Benny come in more than you saw him, and Anna guided you to the place where Santi, Frankie and Will were. Santi made a jab at Linda, who laughed it off and introduced herself at the others. She was blending in with ease, as always. You, though, felt lost, until you sensed someone right next to you. Lifting your head, you saw Frankie hand you a drink, before his hand came and gently grabbed your arm, guiding you to a sit right next to him.

« You okay ? » he asked in your ear, close enough that you could feel his breath, his hand still on your arm.

You explained right in his own ear :

« Crowed spaces. »

You felt his hand give a squeeze and, without thinking, tapped his thigh in a way you hoped would convey your thanks. Then, you held onto your drink for dear life, as Benny started beating the shit out of the other guy.

———

Benny was breaking down his fight, as the other men pitched in with a comment, once in a while. You hadn't exactly enjoyed the fight, but Frankie's presence and explanations had made the whole thing better. You drew the line, though, at debriefing, so you turned to Linda :

« So, how was your date ? »

« Nice. »

« Nice ? Just nice ? But she was bloody gorgeous. You showed me pictures ! »

You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were because next think you knew, Anna was leaning in, wiggling eyebrows, and the rest of the table grew awfully quiet. You turned to see all the eyes on you.

« Who was bloody gorgeous ? » Santi inquired.

« My date. »

Everybody was listening, now. You motioned her to go ahead.

« Well, her yoga lessons came in handy, if you know what I mean but … yeah … yoga. Pilates. Rabbit food. »

« Well, you still got her to do some yoga » you replied with a wink.

That got Anna to spit her drink.

« She was plenty good at that, but, yeah. »

She shrugged and too a sip of her beer.

« Wait, she ?»

So yeah, Santi hadn’t caught on the Linda’s a lesbian train yet. Though to be fair, he’d seen her once, twice counting tonight.

« Got a problem with that ? » Linda asked.

You felt the tension roll off of her and you couldn’t blame her. You never really knew how people were going to take your coming out, no matter how well you knew the person. And she didn’t know Santi at all.

He hurriedly shook his head.

« No, I just didn’t expect it, is all. »

He lit up, then, and you could almost see the bad idea that came to his mind.

(Maybe you were starting to know him after all.)

« I could be your wingman, and you my wingwoman. »

« No fucking way, Santiago. »

You laughed as you listened to Linda give a few more details, sweet Anna beaming in awe as the discussion went to Linda’s great adventures in dating.

« So, you’re a serial dater. » the younger woman exclaimed.

« She was never good at settling » you confirmed.

Linda turned to you and, with mock outrage, asked :

« Never good at settling ? Do those two years with you mean nothing ? »

You laughed and she laughed and Anna laughed and Benny all but shrieked :

« You two dated ??? »

That only made your belly clench even more, the laughter an unstoppable force, Linda warm by your side, Anna crying from laughter, Santi and his existential crisis because he’d hit on a lesbian and suddenly everything made sense because nobody said no to Santiago - at least that was what your were feeling he was thinking. And Benny, just confused, said :

« I didn’t know you swung that way. »

The sentence was meant for you, you knew that, but before you could calm down, another voice, one you’d recognize anywhere, anytime, answered for you :

« Oh, she swings every fucking way, right, baby ? »

You turned around sharply and there he was, again, James. Right on time. He settled right next to you, his warmth a comforting presence. You swallowed the anxiety down. Everything would be alright.

And everything was.

Because fifteen minutes later, Jessie was coming in, Clara in her arms, wondering what the emergency Phil called about was. You would forever remember the look on her face when she saw her brother sitting right there. The blinding smile, the way James took Clara in his arms and cooed.

It was going to be a good night (again).

———

« That was real nice of you », Frankie mumbled. « What you did back there, with Jessie and her bother. »

You’d stepped out to have a smoke and he’d joined you, hands in pockets, just standing there, not close enough to touch you but close enough that you could feel him.

« You two seem close », he stated after a bit.

That wasn’t jealousy. That you could tell.

« He’s my best friend, I guess. »

« He seems nice », Frankie stated. « A bit over the top but then again, I’m friends with Pope so … »

You had a flashback, then, of your first encounter with Benny, and asked :

« What’s with the nicknames anyway ? »

« We served … » Frankie started. You cut him off.

« Yeah, I know, but. What does it mean ? »

Frankie just smiled, then, took a step closer to you, shoulders brushing. You felt hot, all of a sudden.

« A callsign is trust » he explained and then quietly added :

« Starbuck »

You managed to keep it together. You kept it together because paying consumers. You kept it together because that man had a daughter and was probably married and what he’d just said was said out of friendliness.

#frankie morales x reader #Frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' Morales x reader #triple frontier

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matchasprouts · 3 years ago

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The Walls - Chapter 5

[ whoa! idk how i got this out but uhhhhhhh enjoy ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

Felix was surprised to be woken up by Greta, three hours after he usually got up no less. Before he could ask why she let him sleep in, she cut him off with the answer. “You looked ready to drop dead yesterday. I figured you needed the extra rest.”

She was right, those extra hours helped dissipate some of the ache in his muscles. “Maybe you should take a break today,” she suggested, readjusting Brahms on her hip. “I know you usually don’t do that, the Heelshires told me that much, but you really need it.”

And then she left, and Felix was left wondering what she meant by that. Until, of course, he caught a look at himself in the vanity mirror.

He looked nothing short of awful. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes from the lack of proper sleep he’d been getting, his eyes themselves were bloodshot, and if he looked closely he could see there was still dirt in his hair.

Not to mention the screaming ache that shot through every muscle in his body, almost making him feel like he was about to collapse.

The last time his body felt and looked like this was in college, and he hated it. He hated looking weak, much less feeling weak. If a break was what it took for him to have the energy to kill someone if needed, then he would take that goddamn break.

Starting with a hot bath to soothe his body and finally get that fucking dirt off of him.

---

He almost died in the bathtub.

Or at least, that’s what he told Greta when he came downstairs with his hair still sopping wet and dripping water everywhere. She seemed concerned for all of two seconds before deciding she simply didn’t care.

What actually happened is that he fell asleep in the bathtub, woke up suddenly to the sound of a child laughing, and freaked himself out. To be fair, he did hit his head on the side of the tub at least twice.

Anyway, Felix wasn’t built for breaks, so instead of relaxing or even just doing something small like playing the piano, he spent his time helping Greta with her chores. Being taller than her, he could reach higher shelves when dusting the bookcase, so he did. When she was occupied with Brahms, he would take over vacuuming or the dishes. He even took to going around and fixing every slightly crooked painting that he was sure had been jostled by the wall thing.

Basically, he was no good at sitting still. Felix was either doing something every second of the day, or he was sleeping. There was just no in between for him.

That is, until there was literally nothing else to be done. It was late afternoon now, the sun was just barely starting to dip past the horizon. Felix was sitting at the piano, playing a soft and somewhat cheerful tune, since Brahms didn’t seem to like the melancholic melodies he knew.

“When did you learn piano?” Greta asked after a while, setting down the book she’d been reading to the doll. The suddenness of the question made Felix’s fingers stutter, hitting a sour note that made him cringe.

“I don’t remember,” he admitted after moving his hands to his lap, so he couldn’t get distracted while playing again. “I imagine it was sometime in my childhood, maybe in highschool? I think I took a class… I’m not sure. My childhood memories are foggy at best.”

At least he was telling the truth. While fresher memories were burned into his head, anything before his freshman year in college was a blank. The only therapist he’d ever seen told him it was repression, due to trauma. Since he couldn’t remember what the trauma was though, they could never work on it.

The only thing he truly remembered was his mother. Soft voiced, a brunette like him, piercing green eyes. She was beautiful. She also had a grip like the devil, and spoke like it too.

To some extent, he was aware that his insecurities came from her. He also knew that she had been… less than supportive when he told her that he was trans, and that it led to probably one of the worst arguments of his life.

Sometimes, when he looked down at his hands, he thought he could still see the bruises her grip had left.

He shook his head, clearing it of the images of her. ‘She’s no longer a concern,’ he reminded himself internally, ‘you took care of that. She’s gone.’

“Oh,” Greta spoke again, snapping him back to reality, “well, that’s too bad. You’re really good at it, you know. You must have been practicing for a long time.”

Right. They were talking about the piano. He mentally scolded himself for getting off track before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I played all through college. Most at frat parties and the like, it’s a great party trick. My hands still cramp up sometimes though. Guess that’ll never stop happening.”

He returned to his playing after that, due to the soft scratching in the wall behind him. Sometimes the thing would let him take a break, but apparently today was not one of those days. He liked that it liked his music, he really did, but it could be so demanding sometimes.

After a little while, it came time for Brahms to be put to bed. After glancing at the clock, Greta stood up with the doll, told Felix good night, and headed upstairs.

Once Felix had finished the song, and confirmed that the thing had taken off, he followed her up.

And, since both were upstairs, neither of them heard the door open. The door they never bothered to lock because no one ever came all the way out here.

Felix had just collapsed face first onto his bed when he heard the thing practically running through the walls, back downstairs. Following that, he heard the familiar sound of the billiard balls hitting each other.

He shot up without a moment’s hesitation, running almost full speed back down the stairs and to the room where the pool table was kept. He almost fell over once there, slamming full force into the doorframe.

There stood a rather greasy looking man with long hair pulled back into a bun, sporting a messy beard. He stared at Felix in confusion, who was glaring so harshly at him that he would be dead if looks could kill.

It wasn’t long before Greta and the doll joined them, interrupting their staring match. “... Cole?” she asked softly, sounding both confused and scared.

Oh? Oh Greta was scared of this man? And he invaded their house?? Oh.

Almost immediately, Felix stood in front of Greta, grabbing one of the pool sticks and holding it up as a make-shift weapon. “You’re not welcome here,” he spat at Cole who, for the most part, seemed unfazed.

Boy was he gonna regret that.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Cole brushed him off, looking around him at Greta again. Felix once again stepped to block him. He accepted this fate, choosing to just speak at Greta. “Greta, babe, you just left without saying anything.”

It was hard to tell, but Felix could feel Greta’s free hand brush up against his back, seemingly grateful to have a shield against the other man. “Getting- getting this job was kind of sudden… and you know we aren’t together anymore…”

Knowing that Cole was an abusive ex made Felix want to kick his ass even more.

Cole took a step toward them, and Felix immediately held the stick up higher, more than ready to take a swing at the bastard. That made him pause, clearly wondering if getting beat up by a gardener was worth it.

“So, where’s the little kid?” Cole asked after a moment of tense silence. Felix glanced back at Greta, silently willing her to ignore him, but she stepped forward anyway and showed him Brahms. Cole laughed, as expected. “No, seriously, where’s the kid?”

“This is Brahms,” Greta said, standing her ground. She and Cole stared at each other for a long moment, before he seemed to accept that she wasn’t joking.

“Well, that makes this easier at least. We’re going home tomorrow. I already bought the plane tickets,” Cole announced, making Greta actually flinch. It was clear she didn’t want to go. Felix’s patience was running thin- he knew he needed to cut this off before he did something rash.

Before either of them could continue their conversation, Felix stepped in. “She’s not going anywhere. She has a job to do, and she will complete it. The Heelshires expect it of her. You’re welcome to stay here for tonight, only because I pity whatever hole you crawled out of, but you will be gone in the morning. Do I make myself clear?”

At least he was smart enough to avoid a confrontation. “Crystal,” Cole replied, putting his hands up in a mock surrender.

“I’ll get him set up. Can you go lay Brahms down?” Greta stepped in again, a hand on Felix’s bicep. He nodded to her, setting down the pool stick and taking Brahms from her. He sent Cole one last glare before heading upstairs.

Normally he’d be able to hear the thing follow him into the bedroom, but not this time. He assumed it was because it was watching over Greta, which he was glad for.

He changed Brahms into his pajamas with shaky hands, trying so hard to contain the rage that threatened to spill over just from Cole’s presence in the house. Another broken fucking rule, and he hadn’t been good enough to stop it.

After tucking Brahms into bed and giving him the obligatory good night kiss, he went back downstairs to check on Greta, only to be stopped by her at the top of the stairs. “Thank you for not doing anything… rash down there,” she told him, looking genuinely grateful.

“Believe me, if there was no consequences in beating him until he was unconscious, I wouldn’t have hesitated,” Felix replied harshly, now turning on his heel and heading back to his room. Greta stood in place for a moment, surprised, before heading into Brahms’s room.

The doll was the only comfort she had at the moment, so she laid down with him, holding him close as she drifted off to sleep.

---

They woke up to Cole yelling downstairs, practically screaming for Greta. When she and Felix got downstairs, the offending asshole grabbed Greta by the arm and yanked her into the room.

“What the fuck is that!?” he yelled, pointing up at something written in red on one of the upper windows,

‘Get Out’. Huh. Clearly the wall thing didn’t like this bitch.

Felix tuned out Cole’s frantic yelling when he noticed Brahms sitting in one of the armchairs, a bag full of dead rats sitting in front of him. Greta noticed it as well, gasping at the sight of the boy and rushing forward to pull him into her arms.

Apparently Cole did not like this.

“Of course all you care about is that fucking doll! He’s not a real boy, Greta!!” he shouted, making both Felix and Greta flinch. “Now you tell me who the hell did this!”

“Brahms did,” Felix cut in, making Cole look sharply at him. He figured he’d rather Cole yell at him over Greta. “He doesn’t like you. You’re an intruder in his home. He was bound to lash out.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me that the fucking DOLL did that?” Cole snapped, taking an aggressive step towards Felix and gaining a low growl in response. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“He’s not,” Greta cut in, her voice shaky. “Brahms… is very creative and- and he doesn’t like you. Not at all.”

Cole glanced between the two of them before letting out a frustrated yell and snatching Brahms from Greta’s arms, despite her protests. “Enough about this stupid doll!”

Before any of them knew it, they were upstairs and in the child’s bedroom. “Put him down Cole!” Greta begged him, staying a safe distance away but clearly wanting to run over to the boy.

Felix, on the other hand, was taking direct action. “Either you put him down, or I make you regret being born,” he threatened, grabbing the closest weapon- a small bat that he jokingly left in Brahms’s room “in case he needed it”.

“You’re not gonna touch me with this fucking thing here,” Cole retorted, holding Brahms up by the leg. He was right, because Felix just stood there, gaze glued on the doll.

Cole began to swing the boy around by the leg when he realized no one was going to do anything, quietly humming to himself. “Maybe… if this thing wasn’t here…” he mused, glancing at Greta.

Felix moved first, lunging for Cole, but he wasn’t fast enough. Not even close. Brahms’s head shattered on the chair before Felix managed to tackle Cole, sending both of them toppling onto the ground.

And then the walls started to shake, freezing both of them. Felix was up in a matter of seconds, truly panicking now. It had seen what had just happened.

And it wasn’t happy.

#story tag: the walls #s/i: felix shaw #brahms heelshire #self ship fic #self shipping #romantic: 🎭👁#self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #chapter 5

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 4 years ago

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What is your opinion on straight passing privilege? I (bi) don’t think it exists, but a close (lesbian) friend of mine insists that it does bc “You can hold hands with your SO (nb cis passing man) in public without risking being the victim of a hate crime.” I have been researching but keep seeing this same argument coming up, and I’m unsure and don’t want to be making anyone upset if I’m being ignorant here.

I think that there's a lot of fucked up internet politics around who is and isn't allowed in the community. Which is ridiculous.

Gay, Lesbian, Bi, Pan, Poly, Ace, Aro, Trans, Intersex, etc.

The only people who shouldn't be in the community are cishets, and pedos, none of that 'it's a sexuality' nonsense, it's predation.

The concept of straight-passing is ridiculous, primarily because it's all based on assumptions. If you're in an m/f relationship, and you are both cis and heterosexual, it's straight.

But here's the catch, if you identify as any LGBPT+ then it's not straight.

Two trans people in an m/f relationship is not straight passing.

Two bi people in an m/f is not straight passing, it's queer babes, it's in the name. If you're bi and your partner is like, straight, it's still queer from your side of the fence.

It's the 'pick a side' argument from another direction, this straight passing nonsense. Where you are villified by the straights if you have a same-sex relationship (or fetishised, let's be real, every part of the acronymn has it's own p*rn category aimed at straight people with a kink), and if you have a relationship with the opposite gendered person, the queer community gets cranky.

Two things:

1) Is this friend between 13 and 25? Bc they could still be working this out or being mentored by t*rfs, or had some bad info. IT could be jealousy or fear of being open where you live. Perhaps you could question what makes her say that; has she had a bad experience, or did someone say this to her. where are you Are you in america? are there snake wielding jesus warriors near you? Blink SOS if you need an escape route, child

2) Who wins when everyone in the queer community is divided and policing one another? Telling everyone off for dating this person or that person or not at all

I didn't get an invite to the big queer conference to make these decisions, so like, they're not valid. It's some pocket of internet active idiots who think they can speak for everyone.

What we need to do is stop pulling this bullshit on one another and get back to asking just why the fuck it's not okay for people who are perceived as not-straight or cis etc to hold hands in public.

There's a problem for every facet of the acronym, babes and dudes and theys. Lesbians are heavily sexualised by straight cis dudes. Gays are heavly fetisihed by straight cis women. to the point where even saying 'I'm gay' is considered to be an obscene, sexual act that you should not let children be exposed to.

And there's always someone from the opposite gender who thinks they 'are confused' or 'haven't met the right (gender) person yet', or 'they could fix them with their magic genitals' or mumbled religious nonsense. There's such intense stereotypes that people can't stand women who look butch, but also you can't 'really' be a lesbian unless you are' or gay men can't just be, like, a normal dude, instead of some flamboyant in-your-face charicature.

Of course people who match the stereotype exist, too. And they get no respect for fitting into the stereptypes either, it's just another reason for disrespect. There's no winning.

Bi's can't talk to anyone without hearing a question of a threesome come up or being attacked from either side for coice of partner.

Pans, same, but also kitchenware jokes. Both Bi and Pan are considered sluts and whores and can't decide or are going to cheat, etc. Or the 'you're being special snowflakes', 'choose a side', 'you're secretly gay and won't admit / you're secretly straight and want attention' etc.

Ace/Aro - everyone under this banner gets the whole 'you just haen't found the right person' or 'when you're older/you're a late bloomer' or 'how do you know?' or 'maybe you're straight/gay and haven't worked it out yet?' invalidating them completely and trying to push sex onto them. The queer community has always let Ace and Aro in under the Bi banner, and they are welcome. But the internet community, usually young people, are tearing each other to shreds over it lmao.

Chill.

Non-binary, trans, intersex. They have been here for ages, but people from one community try to destroy their credibility, despite them existing since humanity has. It's big on p*rn and fetish sites too, lot of straight dudes think these things are hot and sexy, but would spit on trans people in the street. Hypocrites (I mean, every second low-brow comedy movie out there makes a thai-l*dyb*y joke, and how it 'doesn't count' like yikes).

Nb has only just been recognised, which is funny bc society literally made up gender and the rules and pretended that was how its encoded in DNA lmao.

Transpeople have it bad though. Between the cis straights, the cis queer community (primarily t*rfs and those who fall for misinformation) and the fetishists, and the medical community who treats them like an illness rather than people. Like, they are afforded respect if they 'pass', but even then it's still an EW factor.

Transwomen are seen as 'men in dresses who want to break into women's spaces' and treated horrifically; assaults are very high. Transmen are seen as butch women, and 'gender tr*itors' by the Crazy Motherfuckers we mentioned before; their assaults are high. They're not considered Real People unless they meet the ridiculously high standards for each gender; unless they perform Right.

I remember, but did not understand at the time bc I recall i was little, that there was a gameshpw bachelorette style and there was a big twist. You know what the twist was? That the bachelorette they'd been dating and trying to win over... was trans. I don't think that she knew it would be the big twist, either; of the two men remaining, bother were angry and one might have been sick. Might be on youtube.

But like, that's funny to the non-queer community. They put a huge fucking target on this woman's back, put her in danger of being hurt, abused, killed, by anyone who watched it. By the men who she had 'lied to' as they chose to frame it, of their weird white american families who could have sought revenge. Like yikes.

And intersex people (called h*rmaphrodites for a long time even by medical personnel) were also a p*rn category and/or medical curiosity for centuries. Not to mention all the cases of parents who just went with 'make them a (specific gender)' if there was mixed presentation, at birth, and got mad at the kids for being like "Hey so, you flipped the coin wrong and I'm ___" even thought the potential for this was always on the cards.

And the parents often make a big messa bout how their baby ___ is dead and gone, even if they DO accept the person/child as who they really are. It's like, I get it they have changed but you didn't mourn their first haircut or lost baby tooth like this and that was change too, chill.

Straight-passing is a projection and a weapon. Like, is it the people in the relationship's fault that society looks at the pair and decides they are m/f, straight and cis? Nah, it's what people are conditioned assume and that's on them.

We can't bring it into the queer spaces and keep perpetuating that shit, because it's nonsense. Queer people are dying in other countries and your friend wants to being smart-assed about the fact you hold hands with your nb datemate in public?

Nonsense. That's right up there with t*rfs and the gold-star bullshit that was going on for a few years there. Probs still is among the younger people lmaoooo.

'Passing priviledge' is a myth, and it is used to hurt people. Vulnerable people and those who need support / guidance and assistance from their queer communities more than ever. So try to talk to your friend or try The Whole Friend disposal services, either way, chill.

The real issue here is that any of us are at risk of a hate crime for daring to even show affection in public. That even in safe spaces, 'allies' and those wise enough not to be openly homo/trans/bi/pan/ace/aro/other phobic are still side-eyeing you and wanting to talk 'for you' without listening to the community itself.

We have bigger issues than this, and your friend (and some others on the internet) need to get a grip and prioritise.

[Insert strained analogy about being pro-child but childfree in a suburb where everyone got married out of high school and anticipates you and your partner will too, no matter how often you remind them No Thanks. But you babysat the other day and people thought you and your partner looked like 'naturals' when you took child to the park and played with them. And you remind them, hey, chill, we like kids too but it's not for us. And they get pissy and pushy.]

---------

I can only point it out from my perspective, I'm certain there other queer people from the above acronymn community who can present their thoughts on the matter to and what it means to them.

Thanks for the question, good-bi.

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foundgirlpigeon · 4 years ago

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This Christmas, let's all blow-up Trans!Draco headcanons and fics ! Rip to T*m F*lton but the hp Fandom is different

Hope this makes you feel a bit better about the betrayal @confettisquonk :)

Some transboy! Draco headcanons and a nonbinary Narcissa -

(CW/TW: periods, dysphoria, mild violence)

1) His dead name was based on a mythological charcater rather than stars like his mother. When he was thinking of his name he followed the old black tradition of naming after stars and thus found Draco he loved the name Sirius but kept it a secret when he found out that his namesake uncle was a traitor.

Thus he developed an interest in Astrology

2) His mother instantly accepted him when he came out to them. The reason Narcissa understood how her son is was because she had always known that she never quite completely felt as a woman. But she suppressed it all because her family expected her to be a "perfect daughter" after everything that happened with Andromeda.

3) His father was mostly confused about it but once he understood he fully supported him. "What do you mean my old clothes? My son will only wear the newest and the best ones" and thus an entire month was spent buying Draco's new clothes and throwing out the old ones (all of them were made by the finest tailors using the finest of fabric of course)

4) Growing up, his mind would always wander at Harry Potter, the boy who is supposed to bring back the Dark Lord's reign (since Voldy's death was left to speculation back then and death eaters considered Harry to be his successor).

And he thought about meeting Harry only about a billion times. And thought how he'd look. Of course he didn't know he was Gay™ and when he met Harry for the first time ever he forgot how to breathe and "omg he's so pretty what do I do and wHAT IS THAT ORANGE BOY DOING THERE NEXT TO HIM" but that's a story everyone is well versed in.

5) (cw: period, dysphoria) But oh boy puberty came. The summer of 1992 he got his first period and was horrified. He cried a lot and he stayed with his mother in the bed the entire day; she explained what changes were happening to his body. Draco didn't eat anything that day. It was a very depressing time for Draco with a lot of dysphoria.

3) (cw: period) Crabbe, Goyle and Draco had known each other even before they were born, so it really was no surprise that they became even more protective of Draco since then. They were surprisingly good at stealing stuff and brought Draco comfort food and would hide and bring tampons/pads to him with surprising secrecy.

4) (cw: periods/menstruation, mild violence, bullying) Pansy Parkinson found Crabbe giving Draco tampons one day and he'd had to explain everything. "Instead of these two idiots Malfoy, don't you it'd be more safe if a girl was seen carrying these? I don't suppose these two would last much longer." BEST FRIENDS SINCE and don't you ever think Pansy in her later years wouldn't punch people making fun of him being gangly and lean and calling him a princess behind his back. Pansy never let Draco heard anyone call him that mostly because their jaws were broken.

5) (cw: dysphoria, period/menstruation, mild violence) Year three and Draco would layer loads while Crabbe and Goyle would stand in front of him and not let anyone close to him because he'd never been more conscious of himself. Pansy and Draco bringing notes for each other when their cramps were particularly bad and couldn't attend classes. A particular bad dysphoric day at home he breaks his mirror. Thankfully he incurs no injury.

6) Meanwhile Draco's parents began looking for potions, charms, spells, anything to help him. Narcissa went as far as to look in the muggle world and found about testosterone pills and hormone therapy. She knew the stubbornness of the magic community and them feeling superior to muggle so they'd never allow testosterone pills. So for two gruelling years she researched the pills and finally created a potion that'd basically be the magical version of testosterone.

7) (cw: implication of dysphoria) Draco had discovered binding by then, and a charm to make his voice deeper from his father. You bet your ass Pansy reminded him more often than not to take his binder off.

8) The new potion was an obvious hit in the magical community but of course, the Malfoys being Malfoys sold it at a very high price so the poorer people couldn't afford it until a certain Hermione Granger came and regulated the price.

#harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy #trans draco malfoy #hp fandom #hp fic #drarry fics #Aeion shitposts

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some-cookie-crumbz · 3 years ago

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Okay so the Bakujirou fic made me want to read more of ur writing(uwu💖💖💖💖)so can you please write a fluffy tdmm fic of them playing Animal Crossing:New Horizons together featuring trans girl Momo(which is my favorite bnha trans hc tbh)?Pls include all your headcanons i want this to be as self-indulgent for you as possible

We are getting up to some hopefully good nonsense up in here~! Let’s see if I can’t cook up something tasty for ya! Also this was one of those prompts that really got away from me and kinda... rambled away from the main point of the request and dissolved into a bit of a character study with added notes of fun shipping goodness so please forgive the length! And obviously if this is unsatisfactory please feel free to scream at me for my sins.

Trigger Warning: Transphobia, Mentions/ References to Body Dysphoria

She wasn’t Nashi.

Momo had to remind her of that fact every now and again, when the doubts about her appearance started to leak in. Did she present well enough? Did her hobbies speak loudly enough of the truth of her femininity or did people think she was faking? If she decided to go with a bob cut like Ochako’s, or a cute pixie like Mina's, would it make her features stand out wrong? Would she be fine wearing shorts, or would it be safer to pick a skirt or dress? It wasn't as often as it used to be that the anxiety about her appearance reared up - especially since she had been eagerly accepted by her peers when she confessed that she'd been deemed male at birth - but there were still moments where it did.

Like that evening, in specific.

While Father and Mother still worked in Pro Heroics, their roles had shifted quite drastically over the years. Momo herself had only been eight years old when Father was gravely injured in a Villain fight, taking a serious blow to protect a fleeing civilian. There had been countless surgeries and treatments to follow, leaving Father unable to move as well as he used to. He retired as an active on-duty Pro and became more involved with the agency behind the scenes. He worked more with the finances, employee relations and things of that ilk while Mother took over control as the public face. For a while, things were fine like that. It was a nice balance between them and, even though it was clear Father missed interacting with the public, he settled into his position quite well.

But as Momo's second year at UA started its second half, Father's health started deteriorating quickly. His immune system had been compromised as a result of all his past procedures and the side effects of that started to hit fast and hard. Momo herself had missed three days of classes to rush to see him when his cold escalated enough to warrant a hospital stay. While there, Mother and Father had discussed an upcoming business mixer. It would allow for them to connect with various other agencies to locate team-up partners as well as connecting to a few new support development teams. Mother had seemed rather concerned by the idea of going alone given that Father had always been the social core of their team.

And so, despite her discomfort, Momo had volunteered to go along. Mother had seemed surprised but agreed to take up her offer.

The day had been very strange leading up to the event itself. After getting out of her classes that Saturday, Mother picked her up to get put together. The full works were done for her; hair, make-up, manicure and pedicure, all coordinated to match with the long, sapphire blue evening gown Mother had picked out for her. Mother was an odd mix of overly involved and incredibly distant, taking care to ask if the length of her heels were comfortable for her or if the red of her lipstick was too dark for her liking. Once getting a response, though, she’d be heading off to tend to something for her own attire for the night without a second glance.

A part of her said she should have expected as much. It was a hard thing to define, her relationship with her mother. Ever since she came out and asserted who she really was - claimed Momo as her true name - Mother had never misgendered or dead named her. Even in the beginning, when the change in name and pronouns were still new, she’d gone out of her way to speak more carefully, to address her daughter the correct way. Momo took that as a sign that she was accepted, yes, but… Mother had always been incredibly distant. She seemed to only take an interest in Momo when it involved her Quirk training and her accomplishments therein. She often wondered if the problem was more that Mother had never wanted children in the first place and only agreed to having one to placate Father, or to carry on the family name.

It was rather disheartening to think about.

The moment they entered the extravagant ballroom for the mixer, another Pro that Momo couldn’t place was flagging Mother down excitedly. “Yaoyorozu-San, such a delight!” he greeted happily, offering her his hand. His gaze flickered over to Momo, smile remaining in place though his eyes gleamed in confusion. “Ah, and who is this? A niece or cousin of yours or your husband’s?”

“No,” Mother said, quirking an eyebrow as if the answer should be obvious, “this is my daughter, Momo.”

Momo made sure to flash a demure smile as she bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

“A daughter? I heard your only child was a son,” Momo could feel herself tense as she righted her posture. Of course, she thought, it would already be starting so quickly into her evening.

“A mistake, I assure you. This is my daughter and I expect you to respect her as such,” There was an odd undercurrent to Mother’s tone that caused Momo to glance at her sideways. She looked thoroughly unamused, judging by the scowl and slight glare she had fixated on him, and her shoulders were squared as a show of confidence. She supposed that Mother got tired of hearing this same statement time and again.

He blinked slowly, nose wrinkling briefly, before nodding curtly. “Of course. My apologies,” he shifted his gaze away from her to Mother quickly, clearly uncomfortable. “Anyway, Yaoyorozu-San, I had been hoping to have a word with you! I have a case on my hands that seems well suited to your skills.”

Mother perked up a bit at that. “Hmm. For now I’ll just take a general overview. I assume you do not have any official documents regarding it on your person currently, yes?”

Momo let out a small breath at the attention being directed away from her. “I’ll be going to get a refreshment, Mother,” she announced, though she doubted that she was heard. She made a beeline for the aforementioned table. It was often at these kinds of get-togethers that there were two separate refreshment areas; one for the younger crowd and another for the adults. She grabbed the ladle in the punch bowl and started to pour some into a decorative plastic cup for herself. There were orange and lemon slivers floating on the surface of the liquid so she prepared herself for the tart bite of citrus on her tongue, a small smile on her lips.

For a second she thought of Shoto, most likely settled in the dorms with his Nintendo Switch, most likely catching bugs or fishing on his new Animal Crossing game. The system and game - according to him - were a bribe from Hawks to keep some secret from Endeavor. Shoto had held up that part of the bargain but, he confessed, had snitched to Natsuo. It had been the most entertaining family meal they’d had in a while after that, he assured, and she giggled to herself as she sipped her drink. He may not seem like it, but Shoto had a mischievous streak in him.

“No way! Is that you, Nashi?” She jumped and whipped around, noticing a group of three boys around her age approaching. She recognized one of them from her first grade school, before she’d started her transition, but it took a moment to place a name to the face.

She plastered on a smile as she turned to face them fully. “It’s Momo, actually. It’s good to see you again, though, Hiroki-Kun,”

Hiroki blinked and tilted his head, confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in epiphany. “Oh, okay, my bad! Momo it is!” he agreed with a grin before indicating the other two with him. “Well, let me introduce you! This guy to my left is Yori, and the one to my right is Manzo! Guys, this is Momo, the one I was telling you about!” His tone dipped slightly as he introduced the second boy with him, as if saying his name had left a bitter taste in his mouth, but quickly perked back up after.

Yori offered a shy smile, staying close to Hiroki, but still offering her his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Momo-San. Hiroki-Kun says a lot of great things about you,” he said quietly.

"Does he?" she asked in slight surprise.

Hiroki grinned at her, folding his hands behind his head. "Of course! You were, like, the coolest kid on the playground! Cool Quirk, super nice, really smart… Who wouldn't admire that?"

She looked away bashfully and giggled. "You're too kind, Hiroki-Kun," she mused, turning her attention to Manzo. She held out her hand to shake his hand next. "You're Manzo-Kun, right?"

“And you’re Nashi, yeah?” he quipped, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

She flinched and shook her head, still trying to be civil. “No, I’m not. As I just told Hiroki-Kun, my name is Momo,”

“Your name now is Momo, but your real name is Nashi,” he retorted.

Her hand dropped to her side, clenching into a fist at her side as she tried to keep her cool. “Momo is my real name!”

“No,” Manzo laughed, taking a step towards her that caused her to take a step back, “Momo is the name you use to play dress up.”

Hiroki stepped forward, shoving an arm against Manzo’s chest and nudging him back that step. “Dude, don’t be a disrespectful ass!”

“She hasn’t said or done anything to offend you. And even if she did, that doesn’t give you the right to act like this,” Yori chimed in as well, a disappointed frown on his face.

Manzo glared before shoving Hiroki’s arm aside and advancing on Yori, who recoiled at his approach. “Oh, what? You think just because you have your stupid little buddy here you’re hot shit?” he barked, moving to shove him.

In a flash, Momo rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “Leave him alone!” she snapped.

Manzo whipped around to face her and wretched his arm free, a nasty grin on his face. “Oh, what, you wanna fight about it? Fine! Let’s fight like men! Since that’s what you really are, Nashi-Kun!” he goaded.

“I’m not a boy and my name isn’t Nashi!” she shouted back, grip on his arm tightening slightly as angry tears started to pool in her eyes. “My name is Yaoyorozu Momo and I’m a girl!”

There was a beat of silence following her words, making her glance up as she realized that all conversation had died around them. Her stomach churned at the realization of the spectacle they’d become. She wasn’t supposed to behave like this! She was supposed to come and be the perfectly sociable young lady her parents had raised her to be. She wasn’t supposed to be getting dragged into situations like this.

“What is the meaning of all of this?” Mother’s curt tone cut in, snapping her from her thoughts. She had to steel herself to look up only to see that furious orange eyes were not fixated on Momo herself, rather, Manzo.

“Yes, son, explain,” another voice chimed in from behind Mother. The man she’d been chatting with when Momo first wandered away approached, looking directly at Manzo with a clearly forced smile on his face.

Manzo opened up his mouth to speak when Hiroki interrupted with “Manzo was being a dick to Momo! He wouldn’t respect her identity or name!”

“I was just stating the truth!” Manzo sneered angrily, finally wrenching his arm free from her grasp.

“Son, you-!”

“Momo, we are leaving. Now,” Mother said, tone clipped and flat.

Manzo’s father looked at her in panic. “Um, uh, Yaoyorozu-San, how about we select a time to discuss that case I mentioned in a more professional setting? One where the adults can talk without the children around?”

Mother glared at him, the look so harsh he shrunk back, before moving to wrap an arm over Momo’s shoulders to lead her out. She said nothing as she allowed Mother to lead her out and to the car, the air between them tense and awkward, barely catching Hiroki trying to call an apology after her and Manzo’s father berating him.

The silence in the back of the limo once they were settled inside was staggering, making Momo wish she could stick her head out the window to scream instead of keeping her gaze fixed on her toes. It was even worse than the air between them on the walk over with the added lack of escape route. She felt like such a failure as she struggled to take in breaths to keep herself composed. She was a top student in the top class at the top Pro Heroics school, for crying out loud! She should be able to handle herself against a bigoted moron! He shouldn't be more terrifying than the ruthless villains she'd faced!

“Momo,” Mother said, her tone so shockingly soft that her head jerked up. Her gaze was fixated on her, as unreadable as ever.

Momo swallowed thickly as she forced herself to square her shoulders. She should apologize for her behavior. She’d caused a scene and surely Mother had been embarrassed by that. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said, blinking in surprise at her words. There was another pregnant pause as Momo let her gaze wander away again, fixated on a small fuzz ball in the limo carpeting by the heel of her left shoe. “Is that normal? What that little brat was saying and doing. Is that what normally happens to you at these kinds of things?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded timidly, wringing her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, for blowing up like that. I can normally keep myself more composed than that during im-!”

“Do not apologize to me, Momo; you were not in the wrong,” she insisted, her voice catching in a mix of irritation and… concern? Mother opened her mouth three times before shutting it again and sighing, her shoulders slumping. “So this has happened and you never told us.”

Feeling a lump sprout and block her throat, Momo could only nod in response.

Mother lifted her head to meet Momo’s eye, her expression filled with sadness and regret. “You don’t feel comfortable coming to me with these concerns, do you?”

“It’s not just… I… So many more important things are going on right now. I don’t want to put more on your plate,” she said softly.

“Nothing is more important than you, Momo,” she argued with a shake of her head. She looked away for a moment before taking a breath and reaching out, setting one of her hands on top of Momo’s. “I haven’t always been the best with affection when it comes to you, or, well, really anyone aside from your Father. I suppose that I had always assumed that it was fine to leave those things to him, that one of us would focus on the emotional side of things and the other the more practical. Father was the fun parent you could play games and sing songs with, while I was the parent who made sure you kept your Quirk in check and your grades up. I thought… I thought that would be a good balance, that it would give you everything you needed. I’ve come to understand how wrong that belief was.”

“M-Mother?”

She placed her other hand above her heart, giving Momo’s a small squeeze as she held her gaze. “I’m going to work at being better for you, at giving you what you need from me. I need you to understand that my failings as a mother... None of that was ever your fault. I’m sorry that my actions made it seem like my love is something you have to work to earn. I love you, Momo, and I’m sorry I’ve presented that fact as being conditional and not eternal,”

She could feel more tears starting to pool in her eyes before she surged forward to embrace Mother. She was tense for a second before she embraced her back, one hand gently combing through her hair soothingly. The rest of the ride back to campus was spent like that, with her face burrowed into Mother’s arms as she cried and settled. It was strange, how nice it felt. It wasn’t like the bear hugs Father used to give her, where her small frame would be completely enveloped and held snug. No, this was something a bit more careful and delicate, something nostalgic and delicate but just as important.

Mother offered to walk her in, carefully dabbing the smeared mascara and smudged eyeshadow aside with a handkerchief, but Momo insisted she’d be fine alone. After stepping out of the vehicle and into the brisk evening air, she took a breath to help settle her nerves and maybe alleviate the twinge of a small headache she could feel brewing. It rattled inside her, still a little shaken up, but she squared her shoulders and made the trek inside. Mother didn’t leave until she was inside, she noted, and made a mental note to talk to her later more about everything that had happened that night. The incident with Manzo had been one thing, but there was the separate can of worms it had opened that she wanted to take care of, too.

She made sure to be quiet as she made her way to the elevator, the sounds of some of their peers milling about in the living room easy to hear. She was pretty sure they were gearing up for their Saturday evening game fest. Surely there’d be a barrage of broken controllers a la Bakugo if it was one of their Super Smash nights, she thought with a small huff, before turning to hit the elevator button. “Momo?” A familiar voice chimed beside her, causing her to jump.

She turned and blinked to be greeted by Todoroki Shoto, staring at her with his usual unreadable face, and let out a small squeak of shock. “Ah, Shoto,” she sighed as her shoulders sagged slightly. “Perhaps Ochako-Chan’s suggestion of putting a bell on you wouldn't be such a bad suggestion. You startled me.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, tilting his head as if sizing her up, and blinked slowly. “I got my Snooty and Cranky villagers earlier,” he said.

She gasped before pouting at him. “You said you’d wait for me to do any more island hopping, Shoto!�� she huffed.

“I needed to load up so I could give Ojiro some oranges, and then I got kinda wrapped up doing stuff,” he admitted. He stole a glance at their classmates as Sato and Tooru made their way from the kitchen area with a few bowls and snacks. “Are you going to join everyone else for JackBox tonight?”

She shook her head. “No. Tonight has been a bit more… eventful than I would have liked,” she said, making sure to keep her composure. She didn’t want to worry him over it all. “I just want to go finish washing off the make up, put on some comfortable clothes and relax.”

“I’ll get snacks, then,”

“Huh? Snacks?”

“I still have two plots left for my island and a lot of Nook miles tickets. You get changed and I’ll meet you in your room in a few minutes so we can do them together,” And with that, he moved towards the kitchen.

She blinked and watched him before letting out a small laugh and shaking her head, hitting the elevator button. Shoto was an odd one to be sure, especially since he’d started working towards coming out of his shell more. A part of her was grateful but another part found his stubborn streak to be a bit exasperating. Then again, he only seemed to push when he knew something was wrong, so maybe it was more just trying to offer comfort? Despite his usual aloof demeanor, he was surprisingly astute at reading a room. As to whether or not he could understand how to react to what he was able to deduce was another matter entirely, though.

She set that aside while she got washed up and changed. Her mind shifted gears as she stared at her reflection, thinking about what Mother had said. She felt a tightness in her chest as her mind whirled again. There was some comfort in Mother acknowledging that there was room for growth, sure, but… The catalyst that remained unsaid left her sick. Even if Mother hadn’t said it, she knew this was a reaction to the looming shadow of Father’s death. She had to swallow a growing lump in her throat and shake her head, put those thoughts to bed until a more appropriate time.

She didn’t want to ruin the rest of she or Shoto’s evenings.

She opted for some old sweats and a tank top, taking a moment to comb her hair out from the complex updo it had been styled into, opting to leave it loose afterwards to help abate the small headache she had brewing. Though, if she was honest, sitting and playing games with her boyfriend seemed like a nice way to wind down. She had been having a blast watching Shoto become completely enamored with his little island and all the cute animal villagers with him.

She’d had her own file a good time longer than him and was mostly done with all the villager-hunting and replacing she’d wanted to do but found watching him work through his first experience with it endearing. He’d never even played an Animal Crossing game before so everything was completely new to him. Once she was settled, she took her unit off the dock and propped open the door. Not too long after she’d taken the time to give daily gifts to Phoebe, Ozzie, Chai and Shep, Shoto appeared in the doorway. He had four lychee ramunes, a bowl of popcorn, a bag of konpeito, a variety bag of hi-chews and a package of black licorice tucked away in his arms, his Switch case strap around his wrist. “Ah, here, let me help you,” she urged, setting her Switch down and getting up to help him. “Also, you can dock your Switch on mine. That way we can see your island visits on the big screen together.”

“Thanks. I grabbed a few different things but I can go downstairs and get more later,” he offered as she took the drinks and popcorn. He set the other snacks down on her dresser before heading over to her bed to rearrange the pillows to form the usual cocoon they made for play sessions together. She took his Switch and docked it for him, then grabbed his joycons and put them in the controller holder. Once that was all set up, Shoto settled into the large pillowy ring with his legs spread so that she could settle between them, resting her back against his chest, him using her pillows to prop him up and her relying on him.

She used her remote to flick on the television, then grabbed her console from the other end of the bed and reached for the bowl of popcorn, popping a few pieces into her mouth. “So you did some island hopping while I was gone? Find anyone you liked?” she asked as they watched his game load up.

“I encountered Diana on one of them. She talked to me like she didn’t know me, which was weird,” he said.

“Well, of course she did! That Diana is different from the Diana on my island,” she giggled. She then perked up and glanced up at him. “Oh, and I still need to come get some oranges from you. They’re the only fruit I’m missing on my island.”

“I still can’t believe that out of the fourteen people that have this game, I’m the only one who ended up with oranges as their island fruit. Or that one of you didn’t at least get it as your exotic option,” he commented as his character stepped out of his house. “Oh, and how soon before I can move my villagers' houses?”

“You’ve already gotten your first three furnished homes, so I think you should have access to it. It’s just a matter of having the bells to spend on moving someone,” she explained as she glanced down at her own screen. Shep came rushing from the left to talk to her excitedly. “Who were you thinking about moving?”

“Roald. I want to move him to the other side of the island from me,”

“Aw, why? He’s so cute!”

“I think he’s plotting to kill me,” he said, completely serious as he stopped in front of the penguin in question's house. When he’d first made his file, Shari and Roald were his beginning villagers and he’d decided to place their tents close to his own for the sake of ease.

She snorted and looked up at him. “He’s just a penguin, Shoto,”

“Just look at his eyes, Momo… He’s a villainous mastermind,” To illustrate his point, he ran his character in a circle around the little avatar, before turning and darting to the left. “That’s why I need more villagers like Ruby and Kyle, who have my back no matter what. I need a whole squad for the day he finally snaps.”

“You don’t think Gayle and Punchy would have your back?”

“Gayle would probably be on my side. She and Roald had a fight the other day so there’s bad blood there. But I don’t want Punchy putting his life on the line. He is a precious boy who must be protected,” he said, glancing down at her with a stern gaze.

She couldn’t help but snort at the expression. Specifically in that it was being enacted regarding pixelated animals on a Nintendo game. “And did you find anyone worthy of enlisting for this most noble of causes?” she teased.

He hummed, reaching with one hand to grab a bit of popcorn himself as he came to a stop between a labelled plot at the edge of the beach. He clicked on the sign, pulling up a card that read “This spot reserved for Static’s new home.”

“Oh, you got Static? He’s a great choice for your Cranky!”

“I like that he is a very tiny squirrel with a very deep voice,” he said.

“Much like how you like that Punchy is a cat and is Lazy?”

“You get me,” he said before running upwards. He crossed a bridge to another area to show another plot with a sign that read “This spot reserved for Willow’s new home.”

Momo giggled. “Willow’s a good choice, too. I almost expected that you’d try to get another cat villager for your Snooty villager, but sheep villagers are always a good one, too,” she said excitedly. She plopped a few more pieces of popcorn into her mouth as she walked into Bruce’s house on her own game. “So you officially have every personality type on your island! Do you have any idea as to what kind of personality types you’d like to have duplicates of?”

“Hmm… Not too sure. You have two Jocks and two Normals, right?” As he asked that, he ran back to his Resources Center to get the first of his last two house kits.

“Yeah. I have Bam and Tybalt, and Bertha and Savannah,” she hummed. She watched as he placed the new house right behind his own, as if it would be watching the back of his own. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the sheer ridiculousness of him.

He hummed thoughtfully before he made his way into the airport. “I guess I’ll just go for characters I like. Personality doesn’t really matter to me since I already have one of every type.”

“That’s a good approach, I think,” she hummed, tossing a bit more popcorn into her mouth. “How many Nook Tickets do you have?”

“13,” he said while speeding through the dialogue to board the plane. “I farmed Nook miles after I found Static and Willow so I could go get more villagers once you got back.”

She tilted her head up and pressed a small kiss to his chin. “So sweet,” she hummed before looking down at her own game as she started looking for her daily fossils. She’d already completed the fossil exhibits in her game, but like the extra scratch she got from selling the duplicates.

For a moment things were quiet as Shoto used his ladder to climb up the three tiers of the small island to the top, where his potential new villager was waiting. To then immediately start climbing back down at the sheep sitting in front of the campfire. “Nope. Nope. N. O. P. E,” he mumbled as he did.

“Aw, you don’t want Pietro? He’s considered rare!”

“And he can stay rare and away from my island,”

The next three islands were deemed ones Shoto wasn’t interested in - Eugene, Jeremiah and Limberg - not that she could blame him with Limberg. “He’s not particularly good,” she mumbled.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen a single mouse villager that I like the design of,” he commented as he wandered off the desk and onto his fifth island.

“Bree and Dora are pretty cute but most of them are really lackluster,” she agreed, saving her own file and setting her Switch in her lap as he approached the campfire.

Shoto blinked in slight surprise. “A snow leopard?”

“Actually, Bianca’s classified as a tiger, despite her markings,” she said. She watched as he immediately invited her to his island. “Just so you know, she’s a Peppy type, I think.”

“She looks like Fuyumi-Nee,” he said. Ah, of course that would be enough to get him on board with adding Bianca to his roster.

She set her Switch aside and carefully maneuvered off of her bed. “I’m going to open one of the ramune. Do you want me to open one for you, too?”

She made quick work of opening the drinks and offering him his once he finished placing his last plot back on his own island. She took a quick sip from hers before opening the package of black licorice and eating a piece as she watched him. “Mind if I ask you something unrelated, Shoto?”

He glanced up at her, mismatched eyes sparking with something she couldn’t quite place, before he set his drink on the bedside table and patted the space she’d left. “Sure,” he said, his avatar boarding the plane to do his next round of island hops.

She was quick to settle back in with him, turning her body this time to snuggle into his chest. She felt him shift to wrap his arms around her, controller lax in his hand. “We’ve discussed it before but… What do you think it takes to forgive someone?”

He let out a thoughtful noise. “Well, I think forgiveness is different from person to person. Everyone has a threshold for what they feel is forgivable, so I think that needs to be considered,” He set the controller off to the side to card one hand through her hair while the other stroked up along her spine, the movements slow and soothing. “Speaking from my own situation… I chose forgiveness because I could see a genuine change and a refusal to shy away from the wrongs that had been done. I’m still keeping a distance, and I’m ready to burn that bridge in a heartbeat if I see a relapse, but… I can see authentic change. And that’s enough for me to offer my tentative, conditional forgiveness.”

She nodded at his words, closing her eyes and burrowing into him further. She had always wanted to have a better relationship with Mother, if she was honest. So… This could be a good chance for that, right? They could work on mending things between them and find some common ground. The thought of having a better relationship with her left a warmth in her chest, one that made her smile. Could they have proper Mother-Daughter days? Maybe she could learn more about the older woman’s hobbies and interests outside of Pro Heroics work? That could be nice. “Thank you, Shoto,” she mumbled.

“Any time, Momo,” he said, tipping his head to press a peck to the top of her head. He perked up again and glanced at the screen. “Not to derail but… I think it’s another cat?”

“Oh yeah? What color?” she mumbled.

He shifted his hands to pick his controller back up, keeping his arms looped around her though. “Grey. Oh, their eyes are different colors,”

“Oh, that’s-!” Momo’s eyes snapped open and she sat up, looking wildly over her shoulder at the screen. “Shoto, that’s Raymond! You got Raymond!”

#crumbles grumbles #TodoMomo #TW: Transphobia #TW: Body Dysphoria #my fics #So I got this request like four months ago #So that shows how long I've had my reading of Momo's Parents waiting in the wings lmao!#Hori has given us v small nuggets to work with for Momo #So I'm gonna give her the Ojiro treatment and give her family ties to explore #Also I'm a sucker for parallels with ships so *yeets some of those in here too*

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memoriashell · 4 years ago

Text

seashells and shores ( and something a bit more )

Characters / Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru, ensemble class 78; varyingly background / implied ships are sakuraoi / ishimondo / celeschi / naeleogami

crossposted on ao3

Notes: a very late day 3 for @tokomaruweek. beach prompt! yesterday i was feeling a little burnt out so i decided to not write since i didn’t want to put out something half assed. hopefully this being a bit longer helps make up for it! ( and by a bit, i mean i basically doubled the word count compared to what i’ve done for this week so far lmao rip so much for hoping i’d catch up tonight )

rated t for touko's trauma. and also for junko having her tits out. thanks junko.

anyways tw for like trauma, the general self-depricating / self-concious stuff for toko but also like. her trauma w/ water is brought up since it's. beach? and also drowning doesn't actually happen but it is brought up. and touko mentions claustrophobia in relation to her trauma offhandedly once, and again, just generally feeling insecure.

also it's kinda implied that chihiro and celes are both trans thank you!!!

Summary: going to the beach isn't exactly an exciting thought for her, given the fact she has no desire getting in the water.

komaru seems dead set on making sure she makes some memories anyways.

Do you want to come to the beach with us? That is the first text of the morning that she receives, courtesy of Makoto Naegi. Touko considers asking who he means by us, gathers that he probably means some assortment of their classmates, and ( while it is very tempting to say yes ) concludes that she can safely say no. And she intends to do exactly that, but she gets a set of texts that stops her from being able to do so.

touko-chan!!!!

ur coming with us, right?

you should come with us!

itll be fun!

So Komaru would be there too— their...friendship is odd, all things considered. Not that the knowledge of knowing she’d be there makes the offer any more tempting, but she bites her lip and considers what to say. Not that there’s really much of a question, just keep it blunt and to the point as per usual. No point in sugar coating things.

I’m busy. Maybe next time. She��s not that busy, current manuscript aside. Not that Touko intended on ever not being busy. It’s not her fault that Komaru is too dense to take a hint.

awww :(

pls?

if u don’t wanna get in the water, ill make sure they’ll leave you alone. im sure you won’t be the only one that doesnt want to!!

Ah. She might have to ( partially ) retract her statement on Komaru being dense. Had she figured out her reluctance without her even mentioning it, or had that just been a lucky guess? Maybe it was just Makoto’s luck rubbing off on her...

i understand if you don’t want to come

and i’ll leave u alone if u rlly dont wanna come.

but it wont be as much fun without you there :(

Urgh. Yeah, this girl doesn’t understand a thing, does she? She’s probably not even realized the impact her words have on her. Touko grumbles under her breath, but figures she should respond before Komaru sends another text begging trying to convince her.

Fine.

I’m not going in the water, though.

If this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming you.

That is a lie. Even if worst comes to worst and Syo feels the need to front for her, she won’t hold it against her. She’s the one who agreed, after all. It’s just one last attempt at offering her an out. To change her mind. Like she should. But Komaru is nothing if not stubborn, so she doesn’t really expect that offer to be taken up on. She starts making a mental checklist of what she probably needs to take with her, doesn’t get very far into that list because Komaru’s response is nearly instantaneous.

yayayayay tnk u touko-chan ily!!!!!! :D

we’ll pick u up k????

ur staying @ the place near the dorms right? see u soon!! ♡♡

Touko grimaces at the butchering of language that is Komaru’s texting ( and ignores her own fluttering heart upon seeing the casual hearts sprinkled in at the end ), and sends back, If you love me, fix your grammar.

The car ride over is mostly uneventful. In that she means she feels like she’s going to have a headache before they even get there and Makoto keeps giving her a sympathetic look. In other words, she’s learned that Komaru and both Asahina siblings should not be left to entertain themselves for the hour-long car ride, but the only silver lining here is that it was only an hour-long ride and hopefully they would be tired out for the ride back.

The highlight of the hour was that even if it’d been a tight squeeze in the backseat, that meant she’d been ( somewhat ) uncomfortably sandwiched between the door and Komaru herself. She’s a little surprised that it doesn’t set off her claustrophobia, but reckons that might just be because it’s too bright to remind her of being locked in a closet. And also because Komaru is generally distracting in close proximity, from the way she’d been halfway sitting on her lap, to the faint scent of what Touko figures to be her shampoo.

She also considers it a victory that she did not dissociate in the midst of that, but probably only because Komaru kept checking on her and apologizing for how close they are: she’d had to bite her tongue several times from saying something harsher than she’d really mean. She doesn't hate Syo, but probably counterintuitive to let them front today: whether they are aware of this, or simply just disinterested in trying to front right now, she is thankful. If nothing else, she would consider this some kind of learning moment. Maybe. Something to draw inspiration from?

Still, once she’s free from the confines of the car, she can actually relax a little— or does for all of two seconds before Komaru has grabbed onto her free hand and started dragging her towards the loud group that she recognizes as her class. Yuta and Aoi had bolted out of the car the moment they’d come to a stop to race to the waters ( she can’t imagine being that athletic and feels tired watching them ). Touko gazes back longingly at the confines of the car and the consideration that she might’ve been able to isolate herself there, but her grip’s pretty tight on her hand. Which is nice, and distracts her from thinking about escaping until it's way too late, and she’s forced to look at the group before her, and—

Slaps a hand over Komaru’s eyes with a groan. “Enoshima, wh-what the fuck, you—” She holds off on the ( derogatory ) word she wants to say, and just scowls at the sight before her. “This isn’t a...a nude beach? Are you t-t-trying to get us in trouble or something?” Granted she’s not technically completely nude, but also more revealing than she should be. Seriously, she would’ve figured that Ishimaru would’ve already told Enoshima off already because what else is he good for ( then again, he is single-handedly the only person who would probably take no real issue with it, or be naively convinced by her that it wasn’t really a problem, so maybe she really shouldn’t be that surprised ).

Enoshima cackles at her. “Don’t be a prude, Fukawa! Or are you jealous? I’m just trying to get a sick tan.” While she’s at it, where the hell is Ikusaba to keep her sister in check? Whatever, that’s not really important, and she refuses to dignify that with a response given that Enoshima probably only wants to get a rise out of her.

Instead, she makes sure to put a decent distance between them before removing her hand from over Komaru’s eyes with a huff. “Urgh, honestly...what on earth m-made her think that was a, a good idea?” She grumbles, glancing around now that she doesn’t have to stare directly at...that.

Actually, now that she looks around, the only seemingly responsible person from their class currently present was Oogami— and honestly, she seems too busy being in love with her girlfriend to count ( if it wasn’t kind of heartwarming, she’d probably be disgusted. Not in a homophobic way, in a general ew PDA sort of way ). As for any else viably responsible: Kirigiri being absent wasn’t a surprise, Fujisaki’s too soft to really keep people in check, Byakuya is...his own entirely separate category, and she would rather die than count Hagakure as responsible in any capacity. And Makoto might be a voice of reason, but she’s pretty sure he’s utterly useless here. Which is probably a horrible sign of things to come, but what else did she expect from anything involving her peers?

“You don’t want to go in the water, right?” Komaru’s voice cuts in through her thoughts, watching her closely before taking her hand to start pulling her along then. “We should set up somewhere to sit, then!”

We? She thinks, but instead attempts to free her hand from her grip and voices, “...Don’t you want to go in th-the water with the rest of them? You don’t have to, uh, to stay with me, you know. I’m not a k-k-kid.”

Her expression looks conflicted. “Well, yeah, of course I do want to! But only for a bit, probably? I mean, it’d be kind of rude to leave you alone since I asked you to come?”

She ignores the way her stomach twists at that, and purses her lips. “Technically s-speaking, Makoto asked first. You aren’t— it’s not rude of you to want...to want to have some fun without me. I know I’m n-n-not fun to stick around.” She knows she wouldn’t want to stick around herself if she had the choice. “It’s not like, like I wasn’t prepared for th-that.”

“Yeah, but— that’s the thing. You shouldn’t be! And I want to spend time with everyone, and that includes you too.” And now she’s sulking. God. Fukawa is about to growl back something she’ll probably regret saying, but is saved from doing so by a much calmer voice interrupting, having overheard their argument.

“Why don’t you go join your brother for a bit? Fukawa-san can join us if she would like to. We have an extra seat.”

Celes looks hot— and she means that in a very literal sense ( mostly ), decked out in one of her usual frilly black dresses. She looks out of place in the hot summer heat. Touko is also not sure where and how she managed to get a table out here ( and tea, apparently, and you know what she’s just not going to question it ), but Fujisaki is already pulling out the extra seat in offering, and she sighs reluctantly. Better this than feeling like she’s holding Komaru back.

“G-G-Go. Or...or I’ll let Syo toss you in the water.” Not really a threat - if anything, Syo would dive bomb into the water with her. Argh, maybe she should’ve just let them front today...

( No, no she shouldn’t have. The only person currently present that Syo would’ve mostly listened to would be Komaru— and maybe Makoto or Fujisaki if they were feeling generous— which is an entirely different set of issues she doesn’t want to linger on. Needless to say, she doesn’t particularly want Syo to cause chaos today )

Touko is saved from having to argue further with her on this because as Komaru opens her mouth to protest, Yuta comes to steal her away, blabbering on about something about a game they should play: and while he’s definitely as oblivious as his sister, she’ll consider that a good thing, just this once. The only words Komaru manages to get in is to ask Toko to keep her bag for her, which she would’ve done anyways, picking it up from where she’d dropped it. She watches them wander off ( and only looks away when Komaru starts discarding the clothes she’d been wearing over her swimsuit ) before trudging over to sit next to Fujisaki, who flashes her a small smile as she types away on her laptop.

“I am surprised you came, Fukawa-san. You do not seem like the type for these activities. You are usually quite disinterested in participating in these kinds of things, in fact. Did something change?” Ugh. This is why Touko hates being around Ludenberg. Because she’s observant, generally only bested by Kirigiri in that regard, and is generally good at picking people apart when it comes to lies and acts and fronts ( though Touko would argue this is from personal experience, and not from being a gambler ). And this fact would have irritated her, quite honestly, if she had not self-sabatoged herself by taking it as an insult, instead.

“I-I-I get it. No one really wants...wants me here. That’s what you meant, right...? You don’t have to r-remind me.” She grits her teeth. If nothing else, when she isn’t busy lying, Touko can appreciate her honesty. The tiny hand that wraps around her wrist stops her from saying anything further, even if it doesn’t take much to wrench her arm out of Fujisaki’s grasp: but she gets the feeling she is only able to do so because she isn’t actually trying to hold on too tightly.

“I’m sure th-that’s not what she meant, Fukawa-san...” Ever quick to play peacekeeper, she supposes. Touko simply grumbles at her and rolls her eyes. “...Especially since not everyone was available today, it’s nice that you were able to join us!”

“Yes, it is a shame. I would have liked for Yamada-kun to have been able to help with my tea, today.” Celes sighs as if disappointed— really? That’s what she’s on about?

Touko does a second look at who is not currently gathered, and denotes, “Is Maizono st-still out on tour...?” She thinks Komaru had mentioned something like that in passing.

“Yes! Maizono-san is on tour, Yamada-kun is at an important convention, Ikusaba-san, she’s...doing some kind of training...? I think Kirigiri-san is supposed to be on the tail end of a rough case, and...” Here Fujisaki pauses to giggle into her hand. “I sh-shouldn’t really laugh at this really, but Ishimaru-kun got sick. Oowada-kun had to force him to rest since he had been trying to work through it and made it worse for himself... or so that’s what I was told.”

Oh, so that’s the reason she hasn’t heard the loudmouths today? She might take back her sentiments on Ishimaru being useless, but he’s on thin fucking ice. Of course the overachiever would get sick during the summer holidays— apparently, she’s not alone in that thought.

“Only Ishimaru-kun would get sick during vacation and still manage to find a reason to not take a break.” Celes rolls her eyes, but Touko gets the feeling she’s amused too.

“So wh-what you’re saying is, uh, is that Oowada’s going to get sick next...right? I guess— we’ll find out if idiots get s-s-sick or not.” Touko quips— which earns a softer laugh from Fujisaki, so that’s pretty good.

Of course, it wouldn’t be like her if she didn’t put her foot in her mouth almost immediately afterwards by asking why they aren’t going in the water: she’s not really surprised because Celes rarely participates in gym ( and coming from Touko that says a lot ), but she was pretty sure Fujisaki wasn’t that self-conscious of herself. Not as much? Not that she really has any place to talk in that regard.

“Well, we already went to the beach at the start of the summer holidays! I’m not really missing out on anything, and it’s probably not my last opportunity to go during this break anyways.” And then, a little more sheepishly. “...Also I’m close to making a breakthrough on this code, I think. I wanted the fresh air, but I don’t really think I can afford to take much of a break right now.”

“She would have stayed on the train if I did not warn her we were approaching our stop, I believe. And not all of us can be like Enoshima. The brazenness of that woman is truly something else.” Touko is not sure if she says that from a place of respect or fear, and honestly she relates. And also doesn’t say any further on the subject because Celes gives her a dirty look.

Her gaze goes back out to their peers— she is pointedly avoiding needing to look at where Enoshima is— and spots Komaru and Yuta splashing around with Aoi and Oogami. Well, it looks like just splashing at least, from where she’s at. And Hagakure, who really just looks like an out-of-place sea cretin with the way his hair floats on the water’s surface, so. There’s that?

( No, she’s not at all envious of the fact that all of them get to have fun because they don’t have crippling fears: the ocean does not instill the same fear of confinement that a cramped bathtub does, but fear— there is still the fear that something will tug her down and her body will simply let herself dragged underneath out of instinct, a fear of something worse if she tries to fight for survival— )

Focus. She can feel the way her breath catches a little, the uneasy way her heart beats and concentrates on calming down. She doesn’t seem to have gotten Syo’s attention yet, nor anyone else’s, thankfully. She’ll just...watch Komaru for now, yeah. It takes a moment to relocate her, head breaching from underneath the water and surfacing like...like one of the sea’s legendary enchantresses. She means that in a wholly respectful way, of course, watching the way she shakes the water from her hair, mouth open in a wide grin while she laughs. Touko doesn’t need to hear her to know that on the sole basis of her appearance— the bright look in her eyes is enough to say she is happily enjoying herself without her.

On that note, hm. Maybe she can use some of that for the basis of her next novel— something about a siren and a lady visiting the sea? Tragic romances are always a hit, aren’t they? Okay maybe a tragic lesbian romance is more self-projection, but that's besides the point. No one has to know its self-projection if people eat it up like anything else that has her name on it.

Or maybe you need to talk to a therapist more often? Syo contributes helpfully, apparently having become more conscious at some point. Maybe her panic hadn’t gone as unnoticed as she thought. Not that they’re wrong, but talking to a therapist isn’t exactly going to help with her gay pining ( unfortunately, she wishes it were that simple ).

Yeah, that’s not something she really wants to linger on, and as if Celes can read her mind, says, “How do you ladies feel about a bet?”

“Pass.” Touko says immediately, because she is arguably far from a smart person, but she is smart enough to know to not take her chances against the ultimate gambler. Celes ignores her.

“You see, I would bet that Komaru—”

“No. We’re leaving h-her out of it.” Toko interrupts, and Fujisaki ( thankfully, like the god sent angel she is, even if she seems too good to be real ) nods her agreement.

“I don’t think Naegi-kun would be really happy if he heard us talking about his little sister like that...” Her reasoning is fair, if nothing else.

“Fine. Do you think Naegi-kun is going to interfere on Togami-kun’s behalf, or help Kuwata-kun?” A painted fingernail points out the trio by the sea. Kuwata seems pretty intent on forcing Togami into the sea, suit and all, much to his disdain. The duo is yelling, probably. On the other hand, Makoto just looks like he doesn’t know whose side he’s supposed to be on here.

In the end, it doesn’t matter because by some luck ( or lack thereof ) Togami manages to trip on a washed up stone and ends up taking the other two boys down with him. The heir doesn’t even look all that mad, really, as Kuwata dunks him back under the water in retaliation: she knows what his angry face is, and that is not it, even if it looks kind of like he’s swallowing a lemon.

Or maybe that’s just her and her sour mood feeling like she’s swallowed several lemons raw because Touko doesn’t know how to make lemonade out of all the citrus life has handed her.

“By the way Fukawa-san, about Komaru—” Celes starts, but is interrupted by Komaru’s sharp yelling, which is followed by the wet feeling of her arms wrapping around her. Touko frowns, pushing her away.

“You’re w-wet.” She states the obvious as she makes a face, not that that seems to stop her. “Are you...you're done going in the water f-f-for now?”

“Mhm! It’s too cold in the water, honestly. You’re nice and warm.” Komaru hums happily, and she grabs a towel from her bag to wrap her up in it before she ends up being the next sick kid. “I was thinking we could maybe spilt a snack...? And then we could make a sandcastle! Asahina-san was telling me about shells she saw earlier that we could use?” Touko bites back a small snort at how childish she sounds.

“Yeah, yeah— let go of me, s-so I can get up...” She agrees, ignoring the curious way Celes’ watches their interactions. She mutters something that passes for a thanks before she leaves ( not that she thinks Fujisaki notices at that point, full enraptured by her laptop screen ).

By snack, Touko realizes that this is more of a way of making sure she eats lunch— Syo had not so accidentally let it slip once that when she gets caught up on things, she has the tendency to skip meals. She bites her tongue on saying that it wasn’t necessary and instead pays for their meal because she can do that, she has the money to spare for that kind of thing: and she knows she doesn’t need to, but sometimes she feels like she needs to make it up to her before Komaru gets sick of their friendship.

And if it comes off like a date, that’s simply just coincidence.

When they return to the shore, Komaru drags her off to an area a little more secluded— she doesn’t really realize this at first, simply accepting her fate to follow along, but notices she can’t really hear anyone else. It helps her relax, feel like she doesn’t need to be so guarded.

( It doesn’t stop Touko from briefly complaining about how sandy she’s going to get because of this, which is annoying. And then immediately shuts up because Komaru offers to let her borrow her clothes, and she has nothing coherent that she can say to that. She eventually manages to spit out a no when it becomes obvious Komaru is waiting for her to say something )

“Well, okay then. You can always let me know if you change your mind.” She says, then, “Oooh, Touko-chan! It looks like there are tide pools over here!”

Komaru leaves her to pick out shells for them to use while she does the dirty work of constructing a sand castle. “So you won’t end up too sandy,” she explains. “And I trust your eyes to pick out nice shells.” She can’t really complain— although she almost makes a scathing comment about the fact that her eyes can't really be trusted when she wears glasses— and just keeps away from the waves for the most part. The water laps at her feet while she lingers around the tide pool, and then returns with the fruits of her search.

It’s...not an awfully constructed sand castle. Well, that’s probably more than a little generous to say. You know, if she was going to compare it to something kids made. As it stands ( or doesn’t, if Touko is being honest ), it’s probably not the most...concretely built and looks like part of the base might fall apart at any moment, but doesn’t say anything as she dumps an assortment of shells at her feet. And then pulls out a towel, so she can sit and watch her work. It feels like there’s another problem with this, but she can’t quite place what it is; it’s probably not important enough to point out.

Going back to the novel idea: maybe it’s not about a siren after all. Maybe it’s about a sea princess instead. A lonely girl drowning in the waters called home, in a lonely castle, and—

“Here you go!” Komaru plops a shell into her hand with no warning and beams at her. “It’s nice and pretty just like you, Touko-chan. So you should keep it!”

She definitely doesn’t almost tear up upon hearing that, swallowing thickly as she bites back a self-deprecating, Are you sure it’s not just ugly like me? Instead, she picks out a small shell from the pile and holds it out to her.

“...H-H-Here. Completely plain and, and average like you.” And cute, but that’s not important. Still, Komaru looks like she’s actually said something of worth as she throws her arms around her neck.

“Thank you! I’ll take good care of it.” She acts like she’s given her a houseplant or something of actual value, and not a shell.

Stiffly— because she still really doesn’t know how to respond in these kinds of moments, despite being friends for a few odd months now— Touko pats her back and mutters, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is!” Komaru pouts at her. “It is to me. Isn’t that enough?”

She opens her mouth to point out that she’d really just been reciprocating a gesture, but the wave crashing over them interrupts the conversation— oh yeah, she thinks absently. That’d been the other problem that she’d noticed when Komaru had started building, but hadn’t thought it was a big enough issue to point out.

Once she processes that yes, that happens, her first thought is how cold she is now, soaked to the bone. Touko represses a shudder and tries to ignore the fact that she will need to shower later because salt water gets itchy. The second thing that occurs to her, in the midst of this, is that now Komaru is wailing into her shoulder.

“I should’ve been more careful, I’m sorry Touko-chan! You’re okay? You aren’t upset, are you? I thought th—” Touko leans forward to cut her off. Her lips taste like salt, and vaguely reminiscent of the sweet snack Komaru had coaxed her into splitting. She wants to bite down on her lip, a nervous habit, and pulls back before she can accidentally manage to bite the other’s lips instead. The implications of that are a lot more than she’s willing to handle right now, and averts her gaze as soon as she leans back, so she does not have to acknowledge her actions.

That doesn’t stop Komaru from throwing her arms around her a little too eagerly, a grunt at the impact of their bodies colliding. “Too m-much.” Touko manages to wheeze out, and before she can start apologizing again, follows with, “I’m not upset. I should probably just...just buy something overpriced from one of th-the nearby shops since our clothes are soaked now...”

She takes this in fairly good stride, jumping to her feet and pulling her up by her hands. “Can I pick out an outfit for you? It’ll be fun!”

Their ideas of fun are very different quite frankly, but considering Komaru won’t overthink her appearance like she does, thus meaning it’ll be more time efficient. And quite frankly, she’s tired, so she just agrees. On the condition they can just go take a nap in the car afterwards.

Touko doesn’t quite agree with Komaru’s fashion choices, but she picks out clothes that cover up everything that needs to be hidden, so she can’t exactly complain. Nor does she complain when they do less napping and more snuggling in the backseat. Which means on the ride back, Komaru ends up falling asleep on her shoulder. She thinks about how pretty she looks in the light of the sunset.

Maybe she can rethink her next novel being a romantic tragedy.

#tokomaru week 2021 #toukomaru #tokomaru #komaru naegi #toko fukawa #touko fukawa #danganronpa #* zhi writes

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blitz-and-hearth · 5 years ago

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Some empty cups family trans headcanons because I’m feeling dysphoric after being called she all Thanksgiving and need that good shit right now (tw for talking about periods, dysphoria, and transphobia) And when I say empty cups, I mean all the empty cups so long post beware

Blitzen figured it out at a very young age, his father Bili had some nonbinary leanings (but didn’t know it was a thing when he was young) so he encouraged little Blitz to experiment with gender expression to his heart’s content

He was probably about 7 or 8 when he decided to start going by male pronouns

Blitzen is his birth name, dwarven names are usually pretty gender-neutral. He didn’t feel like he needed to change it

Thanks to both male and female dwarves growing beards he’s pretty comfortable in his own skin even after puberty. He does end up getting top surgery the very minute he can though. Has no plans for bottom surgery

BUTTON UP SHIRTS AND LAYERS ALL THE TIME

It's just a transmasc thing

And you know he’s always wearing suits and ties not just because they’re fashionable but make him very euphoric

Dwarven culture isn’t much better than humans when it comes to accepting trans folk, however, they do consider cosmetic surgery a craft, so their own rules mean they have to respect any and all transitioning surgeries

Mostly Blitzen just doesn’t talk about it much unless someone else brings it up. His father never made a big deal out of it so neither does he

Mostly situational dysphoria, when he’s around his mother or other people who knew him before he transition, other dwarves who can better tell the different subtleties of cis dwarf gender, and of course on the dreaded shark week

Humans and Midgard are both awesome because they see the beard and can’t tell the difference between “male” vs “female” facial hair like other dwarves do. Very easy to pass there

Hearthstone obviously was not in a safe place to explore his gender growing up

On top of all the other shit he had going on during his childhood he was constantly feeling wrong and uncomfortable in his own body

Lots of dissociation and frustration

Alderman wouldn’t let him cut his hair, forced him to wear dresses, and constantly said shit like “bE mOrE lAdYlIkE”

Hearthstone finally figures it out after accidentally stumbling across some websites while trying to research magic. It's just a post on a blog about some spell for good luck to help with transitioning but it’s how he learns being trans is like a real thing

It was both great to know there were other people like him but also like the worst possible news because he knows he could never ever come out and transition while living under his parent’s roof

He was only about 13 and lots of tears were had that night

The very next day he has his first period and just can not anymore

Full snap, cuts his hair short for the very first time, binds his chest grabs what little he owns and gets the hell out of there that day

Meets Blitzen like right after so needless to say he didn’t get much time to explore. He wasn’t about to come out to someone he just met, that shits scary what would he do if Blitzen didn’t accept him? He wouldn’t be strong enough to try world jumping for weeks and wouldn’t survive in Nidavellir without the sunbed

Blitzen had his suspicions but obviously understood why he’d be nervous about coming out, so he just kept his mouth shut about it until Hearthstone felt like talking about it

I’ve made a post about this before, but it happens on accident while Hearth is changing because a) he wasn’t allowed to lock doors growing up b) wouldn’t notice if you knocked to see if he’s in there anyway

What’s not reflected in the comic is Blitzen silently screaming because Hearth has been using ace bandages to bind does he know how dangerous that is???? But he didn’t say anything about it right then because this was a sensitive situation and he wanted to make sure Hearthstone knew he was in the same boat and nothing would change before starting to scold him

Hearthstone cried a lot

It's a big moment that builds their friendship and later romantic relationship and after that Hearthstone starts being a lot more honest about his past with Blitzen

Hearthstone isn’t his birth name, his dead name is probably something to do with flowers, super feminine and he hated it. He doesn’t have a real reason for choosing Hearthstone since it was a bit spur of the moment when Blitzen asked his name. Blitz later asked if he’s sure that's what he wants to go with and Hearthstone decides to stick with it

Part of the deal with Mimir was his parents forgetting that he was born female. It really was no question at all which choice he’d take

(Inge remembers but respects his pronouns because she’s a fucking decent person)

It’s the only reason Alderman didn’t constantly misgender and deadname him. Being in his old home and seeing his father still reminds him of how it used to be though

Hearth has more bad dysphoria days than good. Blitzen is always right there to tell him he looks handsome and very masculine today. Blitz doesn’t have as many bad dysphoria days but you bet your ass when he does Hearthstone will absolutely provide a constant flow of compliments until he starts to feel better

Hearthstone used runes to transition because if you’re trans you’ve totally daydreamed about how awesome and less scary it would be if magic was real. He offered Blitzen to do the same but Blitz had already had top surgery and doesn't really want bottom surgery so he turns it down

Magnus was also encouraged to try exploring his gender from a young age by his mother

I mean.... Just take a moment look at Magnus’ mom for a sec

Yeah that woman ain’t straight Magnus had a good childhood while she was around

I still think it took him a while though

Just because he didn’t really think about it much until puberty happened

He was just starting to think about his gender when his mother died

Later looking back it makes him really sad that he never got to tell her

Then he was homeless and a bit busy

He learned Blitzen and Hearth are both trans pretty quick though

I think this is even mentioned in canon that there's not a lot of privacy living on the street

Probably got an idea when he ran out of pads

Magnus: Fuck I’m out of pads and still got like three days left :/ Blitzen: *handing him some spare pads* Here I got you covered kid Magnus: ?????? Why? do you have these????

He’s a little slow on the uptake bless him

Eventually, he sees Blitz and Hearth’s chest scars and is like OH

He starts asking them both a lot of questions, still thinking its just innocent curiosity but Blitz and Hearth are sharing knowing looks the whole time

Sure enough like only a few days later he’s like “I think I wanna go by Magnus now”

His mother had mentioned to him that’s the name she’d have gone with if he’d been born male and he liked it enough to keep her wish

I wanna say his dead name starts with a B? I dunno why

Birthdays don’t mean much to Magnus while homeless but Blitzen and Hearthstone get him a binder for his 15th birthday, refuse to explain where they got it

(Blitz made it but Hearth was the one to steal the materials he needed)

Magnus obviously never had the option for medical transitioning while alive and homeless, but if given the choice he’d probably get on T but not have any surgeries

Jack is a sword who canonically picked his own name and it’s talked about there being female swords despite having no genital or way to tell, all living weapons choose their own gender he’s trans

Samirah can’t remember not knowing she was a girl

Like Alex she probably just knew from very early

Her grandparents are mentioned being a bit more forward-thinking so while they’re probably not happy per se they allow her to experiment anyway, thinking it a phase

It’s not a phase

Her grandparents mess up her pronouns often and don’t get it all, but its happened less and less the longer she’s been going by female pronouns

They eventually arrange her a properly planned marriage once they realize she’s not changing her mind about being a girl, much to her pleasure

Wearing her hijab and following other classic Muslim gender rules, like having a betrothed and not being alone with a boy, make her very euphoric and happy

She knew right away Magnus was trans too since she like... literally handled his soul when taking him to Valhalla

Seems like something a Valkyrie would be able to tell

Sam is very excited because this is the first time she’s met another trans person but doesn’t know how to bring it up

I’m picturing it happening after they meet Thor when she and Magnus are talking by the campfire

She just awkwardly blurts out “So uh gender huh?”

Magnus has no idea what she’s trying to say at first but once he does he’s very excited to talk trans with her

ftm and mtf solidarity bitch!!!!

Then Alex gets thrown into the mix

She doesn’t know about any of this

Eventually, Sam finds the time to talk to her about her gender, and naturally Alex is ecstatic. It's part of why he takes such joy in being Sam’s chaperone

This happens pretty soon after Alex arrives in Vallhalla

But Alex doesn’t find out the rest are trans too till much later

It just sort of slips out from Blitz, a mention of feeling a bit dysphoric that day and Alex is like “!?!!!!”

After hearing a bit more about Alex’s past Blitzen goes to Hearth and suggests he talk to her

They have a very good venting session about growing up trans with shitty shitty parents

Alex learns about Magnus last

It’s when he comes to Magnus’ room after celebrating and Magnus got covered in chocolate

Magnus has his shirt off and Alex sees his binder and is just like “!!!!!!”

Magnus is a bit flustered but doesn’t really mind being seen shirtless since its Alex and he already knows he’s trans too so he’s not about to get attacked or called a slur

Just like... Alex realizing his whole new little family is trans

Just the whole empty cups fam being trans and all having very different ways of experiencing and expressing it but supporting each other through it all. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

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dragon-writes-sometimes · 4 years ago

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Once Upon A Time... Not, Chapter 4: #TwinSquad

Chapter Summary: Virgil is very surprised at how strangers are coming to his rescue from the school bully, Jake Simons. He makes some new friends like that, as well as getting very confused.

Trigger Warnings: Bullying, verbal fighting, pushing, threats, confusion, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3492

AO3

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter - Chapter 5

Chapter 4: #TwinSquad

That sounds like… Anastacia comes into my vision, stands in front of me, guarding me. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about who you think you are! Nobody, and I repeat, NOBODY! Does that to my brother!” Anyone who doesn’t know her, everybody here except me, wouldn’t know that inside her mind, she’s screaming at herself to grab me and run. The little waver in her voice gave it away. But I’m so lucky to have her. She sets her own anxiety to the side to help me.

“What?” Jake drawls out that word. “We were just having a bit of fun. Ain’t that right, freak?” He looks pointedly at me. And earns a shove from Ann.

“Don’t you dare call my brother a freak,” she says, voice dangerously low. Oh-uh. I haven’t heard her use that voice since she beat the crap out of the only bully at our last school. He was degrading me for being trans, so he kinda had it coming. But still, Anastacia can be pretty scary when she’s in protective mode.

“Oh, I’m sooo scared. What’re you gonna do, British? Throw a teabag after me?” he mocks. Big mistake on his part, if you ask me.

“Did you just-” Oh, Ann is seething now. I can tell. To hell with anxiety, when you’ve pissed her off, you’re dead.

I look around the yard and, oh no! There are so many people! I need to get away from here! I’m on the verge of a panic attack, I can feel it! Why couldn’t I just stay at home and never see the sun again? Ann’s talking, I think. Maybe even fighting that Jake guy. At least verbally. I can’t hear them. I can’t hear anything! Wait, I can hear my heart. That’s good. Right? Oh god, I’m going to have a panic attack on the first day back to school in front of a bunch of strangers! I can’t- I can’t-

“What’s going on here, Jake?”

Who was that? Their voice sounds really calculated. But also kinda cold. Their voice broke through my panicked thoughts, though. Like Mother’s. Her voice was able to break through my thoughts. I’ve only heard their voice, but I think it’s someone I can trust. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s all a haze right now. I should probably open my eyes. Yeah, I’m gonna do that. Wait, I closed my eyes? When did that happen?

Anastacia is standing protectively in front of me, like a knight protecting their most dearest with a shield from a firebreathing dragon. No! Not thinking about that! In front of her, two other students are standing face to face with Jake. They’re talking with him. What are they saying? I try and focus on them.

“… ould leave.” The voice from earlier.

“Yeah, right. Like I’m going to. Yo, Marco! Dillan!” That’s Jake. At his shout, two other students run over to his side. “The nerds wanna fight,” Jake laughs.

“We’d rather it didn’t come to that. However, I will indulge you if you want.” This is a new voice. They sound quite dramatic. It’s one of the two who came over. They are defending me? Why? They don’t know me. I don’t know them.

I can see their back. One of the two is wearing what looks like a dark blue polo. The other is wearing a dark red jacket with a crown on. Nothing too boisterous, but still. Bold.

“Can’t you count, Garcia? It’s three against two. British is obviously too busy with her weak-ass brother,” Jake smirks.

“Numbers don’t matter in situations such as this, may I remind you. Anyone with even just a slight comprehension of hand-to-hand combat will tell you that.” The first voice.

“Indeed, Simons, we don’t need to be any more to take you fiends down.” Red Jacket does what I assume is supposed to be a dramatic pose. Pretty sure the second voice belongs to them.

“Pfft, you really think your geek can handle being in a fight, Garcia? He would lose instantly.” Jake and his goons laugh. “He’s too scrawny! If I even just gently punch him, he’d break!” Jakes goons laughed even harder at that. Well, that really wasn’t fair! I really wanna help them, but I can’t do a fucking thing right now! It’s like I’m paralysed!

“You would actually be surprised at what Logan can do, Jake.” A new voice, sounding a bit more female. Well, it looks like they are here to help Polo Shirt and Red Jacket. “And how many punches he can take without breaking a sweat or slowing down in the slightest.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Quick E coming the weaklings to the resue?” Jake taunts. I think it’s supposed to be a play at their name or something.

“Har har, real mature, Jackie.” Jake sneers at the name. The newcomer (gosh, there’s so many strangers now, I can’t breathe) only smile at Jake innocently. “You know it’s Qikkie. Q-I-K-K-I-E,” they spell out. “Qikkie. Might look weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kikki’.” Oh, their smile is dangerous now. They kinda remind me of Ann…

“Virgil, breathe.” Who said that?! I frantically look around. Who the hell sa- oh. Anastacia. She’s right next to me now. She’s telling me to breathe. Am I not breathing? I inhale sharply. Oh, guess I wasn’t.

She continues whispering soft nothings into my ear. I tune them out in favour of focusing on the conversation in front of us. Red Jacket is standing slightly in front of Polo Shirt, ready to defend. I must’ve missed something.

“Oh, go put a sock in it, Jake,” Red Jacket says. Jake just laughs. As do his goons.

“Hey! Attention here, hothead!” the newcomer, Qikkie, says, snapping their fingers. Nice bracelet. Why does it say ‘She/Her’ on it? “Do you really wanna turn your back on me? After what happened last year?” Jake visibly freezes. Qikkie just smiles wickedly. Wonder what happened?

“Fine. You losers win this round,” Jake grumbles, signalling to his goons to follow him as he leaves.

“You just conceded victory to us, so we are in fact the winners. Not losers,” Polo Shirt says, sounding puzzled.

Qikkie turns to Ann and me. “Sorry about him. Jake wasn’t taught any manners at all at home. He’s just a Neanderthal. Just ignore him and his brainless gorillas,” Qikkie smiles at us and offers a hand. The other two are still there, but it seems like they’re sending ordering looks to the other students because they start to leave fast.

Ann takes their offered hand after I nod an okay at her. She then gently lifts me up with both hands. Damn it! I’m wobbling a bit. My legs aren’t steady. Haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday and that push just took more of my remaining energy. I really need to eat better.

I quickly gain my balance and start signing. ‘Thanks, sis. Uhm, could you translate this next part?’ I hesitantly ask.

“Of course! Go ahead,” she says, earning a few confused looks from the others with us. Polo Shirt and Red Jacket came to stand next to Qikkie.

‘You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.’ I sign, allowing a tiny smirk to be visible on my face. Ann starts giggling a lot and has to catch her breath. Polo Shirt starts chuckling a bit as well, making Qikkie and Red Jacket look at them like they’d lost their mind. Maybe they didn’t laugh much?

Ann seems to have caught her breath again. “Huh, sorry. Right, translation. Virgil said, and I quote: You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.” And the others start laughing. Well, Polo Shirt is still chuckling a bit.

Qikkie’s laugh is light and not really that loud. Red Jacket’s laughter, however… it’s loud and boisterous and like music. Wait, what? Nonono, get it together Virgil! If you start these thoughts you’re only gonna start blushing and- and I’m blushing. Great. I look down a bit, trying to hide behind my bangs. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t notice!

They finally start to laugh off. And Red Jacket looks at me. Oh, no! Shit! They’re smiling! At me! What do I do?! Can’t I just sink into the ground or something?!

“I like the way you think, Virgil, was it?” they ask. All I can do is stand there and look really dumb. I just nod. I’m pretty sure no one seems aware of my internal conflict. “I’m Roman. Roman Garcia. He/him.” Red Jacket, Roman, says, extending his hand but backtracks and scratches his neck instead. At least he could see I’d rather not touch any stranger at the moment.

Polo Shirt collects himself and gives a tiny attention-grabbing cough. “My name is Logan Connors. I, as well as Roman, use he/him pronouns. And we’re glad to be of assistance to the both of you,” he says and gives a curt nod. Yup. He’s the formal type. He even wears a necktie. Who even does that in a school that has no uniforms?

“You probably already caught my name,” Qikkie chuckles. “But if you forgot it already, it’s Qikkie. Picani. My name’s spelt really weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kiki’,” they smile. They get a look from Logan that I have no idea what means. “Oh, yeah! And I use she/her pronouns for today. I’m a demigirl, or as I like to call it: demifemale, so you can see my pronouns on my bracelet here.” She lifts her hand with the bracelet I saw earlier. So that’s why it says she/her. Cool. “When I’m wearing the ‘they/them’ pendants, you can just call me Q. You don’t have to, obviously, but it would be nice.”

“That’s really cool! I’m Anastacia, uhh, Blake,” Ann hesitantly adds. Most likely because they also shared their last names. Qikkie seems to light up at Ann’s comment about Qikkie’s bracelet. “I use she/her as well. And this is Virgil,” she gestures to me. “My brother. He/him.” I give a small wave at the introduction. And then the awkwardness starts. No one seems to know what to say now. I just try and hide behind my hair and hope Roman doesn’t look at me. I really don’t know why my body reacted like that! What’s wrong with me?

Luckily the first warning bell rings, signalling for us to get ready to go to our next class, breaking the awkward silence.

“Now that introductions are out of the way, it would be best for us to head to our next classes. We can show you to your classrooms?” Logan offers, albeit a bit awkward. He must not be all that social. Welcome to the club. I nod silently.

“We’d like that,” Ann says after she sees my nod. She checks her schedule. “Uhm, I have Maths,” she says.

“Ooh! We do too! Roman and I!” Qikkie says, clapping her hands excitedly. “We can take you there and at the same time, make sure Jake doesn’t try and bother you!” Ann nods, but glances to me. “What do you have, Virgil?” Qikkie asks me. Guess she noticed the worry in Ann’s eyes.

I look at my schedule. And smile. I have Art! One of the few things I don’t suck at and have a hard time screwing up. ‘Art’ I sign at Ann.

“Art? Cool!” Ann says, genuinely excited for me. It feels nice.

“Well, seems like you’ll be keeping me company, as I also have Art,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses unnecessarily. Must be a tick or something. He seems alright. I hope I’m not wrong like last time… “It is this way, Virgil.” I look around. Ann already left with Roman and Qikkie. I must’ve been zoning out. Wait, he’s walking away. Logan’s walking away. What do I do? Oh, right. He said he has Art too. I’m just gonna follow him.

I catch up to him pretty fast, though I do have a small limp from being pushed down on the ground. I really hope he doesn’t notice. We walk in silence. Obviously. Logan seems like someone who’s not up for unnecessary conversation, and I don’t really speak.

“So, Virgil. Might I inquire how long you’ve been unable to speak?” Logan suddenly breaks the silence. Great. “Do not worry about answering in sign-language, as I know some myself. Granted, I do not communicate in it every day. You do not have to answer if it’s too uncomfortable for you,” he adds after he, presumably, glances towards me and sees how I’m curling in on myself. It’s nice to know he actually cares about me. The least I could do after he and Roman basically saved me is answer him.

‘Well… I’m not unable to speak, per se. My throat just closes up a lot. It’s been doing that for as long as I can remember, really. So, I really just use sign to speak with others. Others being my sister and father.’ I hope that wasn’t too much for him to read. He did say he’s not the best.

“Ah. Selective mutism. I’m guessing you have heightened anxiety?” Logan asks. Wait, it’s actually called something? I thought I was just a weirdo. Huh. I do nod at his question about my anxiety. “Well, if you are called upon by the teacher, I shall translate as best I can for you if that is alright?” Again I nod.

He keeps his focus on me as we walk so I might as well ask. ‘Is there a specific reason why you know sign language?’ Pleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleas-

“Well, a good friend of mine, his mother is deaf. I spent a lot of time at their house growing up, so I picked up a few things, well, a lot. And I’ve always been fascinated by it,” Logan explains. Well. At least he doesn’t find me annoying. Yet. I think.

We walk for another minute in silence, my mind is seriously being an asshole right now. How far away is the Art classroom anyway?! Hey, it’s my first day, alright? Don’t expect me to remember where everything is to a tee from just one tour of the school! “Logan! There you are!” someone whisper-shouts. Someone’s waving at us, standing outside a classroom.

“Ah, that is my sister, Laylin. Relax, Laylin. It’s still another five minutes before class starts,” Logan addresses the girl in front of us. She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re usually here ten minutes before. Did Patton make you look at pictures of puppies again?” she remarks sarcastically. I’m just gonna assume that it’s something that’s only happened once and Laylin just keeps bringing it up to annoy Logan. That’s what I would do if Logan was my brother.

“That was one time!” Logan near hisses. “And no. Jake had sought out a new victim, so we stopped by to help. This is Virgil, by the way,” he says, nodding to me. I give a small wave at the girl in front of me.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil. I’m Laylin, Logan’s twin. Hope Jake didn’t give you a bad impression of the school. It’s the fewest that’s actually like him.” They’re twins. Why am I surprised? It’s the only explanation as to how they’re on the same year as siblings. Right?

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. Someone’s always by my side, so Jake stays away. We got some homework, but at least it’s something we covered last year in school, so I already did it and won’t have to agonise over it.

When we arrive at school the next day, Nini is standing just outside the doors, waving at us when she spots us. “So. Heard yesterday was quite eventful, huh? Next time Jake decides to annoy you, just drop my name, and he’ll back off,” she says as we reach her.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Ann giggles. We head inside, and Nini guides us in the direction of our next class. We still have another fifteen minutes, but we’d like to be in good time, seeing as we missed the first lesson yesterday because we are new and needed a tour and everything.

The classroom’s up ahead, someone’s already standing outside the door, not blocking it though. Wait, is that Roman? Huh. His wardrobe is completely different from yesterday. Ann noticed him too. “Hey, Roman,” she says when we get close enough. He looks up, and did he dye his hair since yesterday? Because I don’t recall that grey streak in his hair. Then again, I only met the guy yesterday.

Roman starts laughing. Well, more like cackling, really. That… is not the reaction I expected at all. And from the way Ann mirrors my surprise and confusion, neither did she. I look around us, searching with my eyes as to what could be so funny. A guy (I assume, but still gonna refer with gender-neutral pronouns until I know for sure) is standing close by and looks like a confused bean. Like, literally. Looks like the definition of an innocent bean. Blue shirt, glasses, a cardigan tied around the shoulders, and a long skirt on.

“Remus? What’s going on?” they ask as they move closer.

REMUS?! The hell?! I glance at Anastacia. She looks as shocked as I am; mouth ajar and everything. Does this mean that yesterday was some sort of planned out practical joke? That they gave us fake names just to ridicule us today in school?

I can see their mouth moving, feel Ann’s hand on my arm, but I can’t hear. Shit! Not having a panic attack now! Not gonna happen! Pull yourself together, Virgil! Don’t need to make a bigger fool out of yourself than you already have. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, and out for eight. Repeat.

“…iddo?” Great, I can hear again. My eyes focus again. The others are staring at me. Did I miss something? I tilt my head a bit to the side, Ann knows it means I’m listening but think I might’ve missed something in the conversation. Which I clearly did just now.

“Hey, there, kiddo. Glad you’re joining us again,” the person in the skirt says. “My name is Patton, he/him,” he smiles. He seems really bubbly, it’s actually a calming atmosphere to be in. I smile faintly at him to make sure he knows I heard him. I can hear footsteps in the distance.

He opens his mouth to say some more, but someone interrupts. Someone who wasn’t there before. And looks like Patton. Like, apart from the heterochromia and some lighter patches of skin on the left side of their face, they are identical. And now my confused state has increased. “Could you keep it down, Remus? I could hear you all the way at the end of the hallway,” they drawl, pointing over their shoulder, down the long hallway.

“Oh, heya, Janus!” Patton waves energetically. “I made some new friends! I think.” He looks at me, smiling. He then looks back at the newcomer, Janus, and starts explaining what just happened to make ‘Remus’ laugh like that.

She smiles (Patton mentioned her pronouns somewhere in his explanation. It went too fast for me to get the context for why he mentioned her pronouns, okay?) and chuckles a bit. “I can understand why you look so utterly confused. You two ran into Roman yesterday, right?” she asks. Her voice is smooth and a bit deep. I can see Ann nod in my periphery. “It is most likely that he didn’t mention Remus at all. You just met, after all. But, they are not the same person. They are twins. Identical twins. Patton and I are twins as well if you were wondering, which I can only assume you were. We are not identical twins, but we look very similar still,” she explains, and now I feel like a total fool. And idiot. Of course, they are twins. That’s what makes the most sense. I’m getting a headache. “Oh, and I am genderfluid, so keep watch of my necklace,” she winks.

I look towards Anastacia, my anxiety forgotten. ‘I am getting a headache. There are three pairs of twins, not including us, here. This is gonna get confusing fast,’ I sign to her, to which she nods.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees, taking my hand. “But we’re here together, so we get to share our confusion,” she winks.

“Oh, this is only half of us, darling,” Janus smirks. “But we should get to class, it’s about to start. Have fun.” She starts walking back down the hall. “By the way.” She stops and looks over her shoulder. “Welcome to the Twin Squad.”

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