Archive of Our Own ^beta

The party is RAGING outside, and you’re high out of your fucking mind. Vera and Polly blackmailed that fucking intergalactic douche prince and made him give up his strongest drugs. Turns out that shit hits, and it hits hard. Your eyes are bulging, and they ain’t the only body part that’s bulging if you know what I mean. What? No, ew! What the fuck! I meant your brain, idiot, it’s working overtime! Why the fuck would you think I meant that? Geez.

Anyway. Yeah, your brain is firing on all cylinders. And since you rarely spend time doing actual class work, it’s firing very confusedly and far too much.

Firstly, what is going on? Like seriously, what is all this? It has been three months since Monster Prom, and quite frankly, you’re a little confused why school is still FUCKING SCHOOL. Shouldn’t it have ended already? I mean, prom is kind of the quintessential high school send-off. It’s how it all ends, is it not? But here you are, skipping class and partying outdoors with Polly like usual. She’s muttering something about cocaine, and Liam is trying to convince her that putting mayo on it doesn’t somehow make it lunch.

But you’re not paying attention. You’re caught in the middle of an internal spiral. If school is continuing, how long does it continue for? You’re trying to rack your brain for answers, but you’re honestly not sure that there is an end. You signed an NDA when you got in, after all, Spooky Academy has a lot of spooky happenings, but you seem to recall absolutely no stipulations about the amount of time you would be spending at the school. Not that an NDA would tell you that. Idiot. You thought your memory about an NDA would tell you something useful? Dammit, you really should find Vera, she could probably explain some things to you about NDAs and what they aren’t.

Anyways, you guess that explains why nobody here is an actual teen. At least, why most people here aren’t actual teens. With that thought, isn’t it at least a little strange that everyone here is in their 20s? Wait, why are you thinking that’s strange? You’re monsters, you don’t exactly obey human ageing habits. Of fucking course everyone is going to be aged a little differently! It also explains why Scott goes here. I mean, Scott is like… how old in dog years? You’re not sure.

You’re also a little bit confused how monster schooling even works, considering everyone is a different genetic makeup (for those who, you know, have genetics) and therefore everyone matures differently. Ultimately, you realise it doesn’t matter, but a part of you stops to wonder just how ethical all this romance and shit really is. I mean, you spent 6 full on weeks trying to romance (and let’s be real, fuck) people who, despite being in their 20s, are also potentially not matured enough to give consent the way you would expect. I mean, sure Miranda is 19, and (you think) matured according to the laws of the merfolk. But… isn’t she a little, you know… naive? She ain’t exactly the brightest fish on the land. Then again, being bright doesn’t necessarily affect your ability to consent. Either way, it’s scary to think about.

Damn, all this thinking is really hurting your brain. Your head is like… pulsating? You think. Dammit, thinking is not what you should be doing!! STOP THINKING FOR FUCK’S SAKE!! NOOOOOOOOO THIS STILL QUALIFIES AS THINKING!!! HOW WILL YOU END THIS INCESSANT SPIRAL OF BRAIN POWER AND PAIN?!

“Oh shit you guys, there’s a little note on this baggy of space drugs that says ‘not suitable for zombies, deities who embody the concept of fear, Frankensteins, or fire djinns.” Polly shouts through the music. “Thank goodness I’m a ghost, am I right?” she laughs.

And with this information, you promptly implode.