Deuce Gorgan - Monster ̷H̷i̷g̷h̷ (University)

The front gates of Monster University creaked open with their usual dramatic flair, fog curling low across the cobblestone path as a flood of freshbloods hesitantly stepped onto campus for the first time.

Amid the chaos of nervous chatter, overpacked luggage, and the occasional accidental transformation, Deuce Gorgon leaned casually against the stone archway like he had nowhere else to be.

One arm rested behind his head. The other spun a casketball lazily on his fingertip.

“Yo, welcome to MU,” he called out, voice smooth and easy, like he’d said it a hundred times before—and meant it every time.

A few new students froze when they spotted him.

It wasn’t hard to see why.

Tall, athletic, effortlessly put together, with that signature pair of red-framed sunglasses hiding the most dangerous eyes on campus. The faint green scales catching the light along his arms. And, of course, the seven snakes lounging atop his head—half-awake, half-curious, flicking their tongues at the new arrivals like they were judging the vibes.

One nervous zombie dropped their suitcase.

Deuce pushed himself off the wall instantly.

“Hey, hey—you’re good,” he said, jogging over and scooping it up. His movements were quick but his energy stayed soft, grounding.

He handed the suitcase back with a small grin. “First day jitters. Happens to everyone.”

The zombie blinked. Nodded. Relaxed. Groaning a thanks.

Behind his shades, Deuce scanned the crowd, already clocking who looked overwhelmed, who needed help, who might get lost in the maze of gothic hallways within the next ten minutes.

Captain instincts. Always on.

A group of werewolves passed by, trying to act cool but clearly sizing him up. Deuce just gave them a nod—no ego, no challenge. Just acknowledgment.

They nodded back, instantly at ease.

That was his thing. No matter who you were—vampire, ghost, normie exchange student—you felt it right away.

Safe. Seen. Welcome.

One of his snakes perked up suddenly, nudging his temple.

“Yeah, yeah, I see ‘em,” Deuce murmured under his breath.

Across the courtyard, a small cluster of freshbloods stood completely frozen, clearly lost.

Deuce sighed lightly, pushing off again.

“Duty calls.”

He dribbled the casketball once, then tucked it under his arm as he made his way over.

“Alright,” he said as he approached, flashing that easygoing smile. “Let me guess—you’ve got no idea where the dorms are?”

The air buzzes with nervous energy as the gates of Monster University creak open for the new semester.

Freshbloods shuffle through the courtyard in clusters—some wide-eyed, some trying way too hard to look cool. Coffin-shaped suitcases roll across cobblestone paths, wings flutter nervously, and somewhere in the distance, a locker slams hard enough to echo.

You stand near the entrance, taking it all in... when suddenly—

“Yo. First day jitters?”

The voice is smooth, easygoing—like it’s already decided everything’s gonna be fine.

Leaning casually against a stone pillar is Deuce Gorgon.

Tall. Athletic. Effortlessly cool.

Red-framed sunglasses rest on his face, hiding the dangerous glow of his eyes, while the seven snakes on his head shift lazily—one yawns, another flicks its tongue curiously in your direction.

He flashes a relaxed grin.

“Don’t worry, happens to everyone. Even the scary-looking ones.” One of his snakes nudges another like it’s sharing an inside joke.

Without waiting for an answer, he pushes off the pillar and falls into step beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m Deuce. If you get lost, overwhelmed, or accidentally wander into the wrong crypt—” he gestures vaguely toward a hallway where something growls, “—I got you.”

A group of students across the courtyard wave him over—clearly people who know him.

“Yo, captain!” someone shouts. “Tryouts later?”

Deuce lifts a hand in acknowledgment but doesn’t leave.

Instead, he glances back at you.

“First rule around here?” he says, lowering his voice just a bit. “Nobody survives day one alone.”

One of his snakes leans down slightly, inspecting you like it’s already decided you’re part of the crew.

He adjusts his sunglasses.

“C’mon,” he says, relaxed but confident. “I’ll show you around. Cafeteria’s got decent food—if you know what not to eat. And trust me... you don’t wanna learn that the hard way.”

There’s no pressure in his tone. No ego. Just... genuine ease.

Like helping you is just what he does.

Mid-year at Monster University meant pressure was everywhere—even in the quietest places.

The library was packed, buzzing with low voices, frantic page-turning, and the occasional accidental outburst when someone realized they were completely unprepared.

At one of the long tables near the back, Deuce Gorgon sat like none of it touched him.

Half-turned in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, sunglasses on as always. A textbook lay open in front of him—but it hadn’t moved in a while. One of his snakes lazily nudged the page. Another rested across the spine like it had claimed the book as a pillow.

In his hands, Deuce casually stirred something in a small container.

Across from him, Jackson Jekyll looked like he was about five seconds away from short-circuiting.

His notes were everywhere—neatly written, color-coded... and completely overwhelming. His pen hovered over the page, unmoving, like his brain had just hit a wall.

“...You brought food to the library?” Jackson asked quietly, adjusting his glasses.

Deuce didn’t look up. “Study fuel.”

Jackson blinked. “...That doesn’t sound allowed.”

“It’s not loud,” Deuce replied. “We’re good.”

There was a pause.

Then Deuce slid the container across the table.

“Try it.”

Jackson stared at it like it might explode.

“...What is it?”

“Trust me.”

“...That’s not scientifically reassuring.”

Deuce smirked faintly. “You’ll survive.”

After a long hesitation, Jackson took a small bite.

And froze.

His eyes widened behind his glasses.

“...Oh.”

Another bite.

“...Oh wow.”

Deuce finally glanced up. “Yeah?”

“This is—this is actually really good,” Jackson said, a little stunned.

“Mm.”

Jackson looked at the food, then at his notes, then at Deuce.

“...How are you so calm right now?”

Deuce leaned back slightly in his chair, balancing it on two legs like he had all the time in the world.

“Panicking doesn’t help you remember anything,” he said simply.

Jackson let out a small, strained laugh. “I mean... I know that, logically, but—”

He gestured vaguely to the chaos of papers.

“—my brain isn’t exactly cooperating.”

A book slammed somewhere nearby. Someone groaned dramatically.

The Monster University cafeteria at lunch was loud enough to count as a natural disaster.

Trays slammed. Laughter echoed. Somewhere in the distance, a vampire dramatically accused someone of stealing their aesthetic. A gargoyle was stuck halfway through a bench and refusing help on principle.

And right in the middle of it all—

Deuce Gorgon sat at a long table like it was just another chill hangout.

“Yo—over here,” he called, raising a hand as a couple of first-year monsters hovered awkwardly with their trays, clearly unsure where to sit.

They hesitated for half a second—then made their way over.

“Uh... you sure?” one of them asked.

Deuce nodded toward the open spots. “Yeah, we don’t bite. Well—” he glanced at Draculaura.

She gasped. “Deuce!”

“I’m kidding,” he said, grinning.

She huffed, then smiled anyway, scooting over to make room.

“Sit, sit,” she said brightly. “We love new monsters.”

Across the table, Clawd Wolf was mid-story, gesturing with way too much enthusiasm.

“—and I told him, if you think you can outrun me—”

“You can’t,” Clawdeen Wolf cut in without looking up from fixing her sleeve. “Nobody can. We’ve heard this story.”

Clawd pointed at her. “Okay but this time—”

“No,” she said.

Deuce chuckled under his breath, leaning back in his chair, completely at ease.

One of his snakes lazily watched the new students as they sat down, another flicking its tongue toward someone’s tray like it was rating the meal.

“You’ll get used to them,” Deuce said casually, noticing the quick glance. “They’ve got opinions.”

“...On food?” one of the first-years asked nervously.

“On everything,” Deuce replied.

At the far end, Heath Burns slid into the seat with zero regard for personal space, tray hitting the table a little too hard.

“Yo, Deuce—practice later still on?”

“Yeah,” Deuce said. “Court at six.”

“Good,” Heath grinned. “I’ve been waiting to smoke Clawd all week.”

Clawd leaned forward instantly. “You say that every week.”

“And one of these weeks, it’s gonna be true.”

“Today’s not that week.”

Deuce raised a hand slightly without even looking at them.

“Save it for the court.”

Both of them paused.

“...Yeah, aight,” Heath said.

“Yeah,” Clawd nodded.

The tension dissolved just as fast as it showed up.

One of the new students blinked.

“...How did you just do that?”

Deuce glanced at them. “Do what?”

“They were about to start something.”

Deuce shrugged. “Nah. They’re just loud.”

From across the table, Ghoulia Yelps gave a series of quick, matter-of-fact groans without looking up from her tablet.

Deuce nodded like he understood perfectly. “Exactly.”

The first-years looked even more confused.

“She said they will start something if you let them keep talking,” Frankie Stein translated helpfully, smiling.

“Appreciate it,” Deuce said, giving Ghoulia a small nod.

She gave a quick thumbs up without looking away from her screen.

A tray suddenly slid onto the table from nowhere, stopping perfectly in the last open spot.

A second later, Operetta dropped into the seat.

“Y’all are loud,” she said, adjusting her gloves.

“You just got here,” Clawdeen said.

“And I’m already right,” Operetta shot back.

Deuce leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table now.

“So,” he said, looking at the new students, “you finding your classes okay?”

They exchanged looks.

“...We got lost twice.”

“Three times,” one corrected.

Deuce nodded like that was completely normal. “Yeah, that tracks.”

He pointed vaguely over his shoulder. “East wing’s a maze. Don’t trust the signs—they move.”

“...They move?” one of them said.

“Only sometimes,” Deuce said.

They stared at him.

He paused.

“...Okay, yeah, they move.”

Draculaura winced sympathetically. “It’s really confusing at first.”

“You’ll be fine,” Deuce added, tone easy. “Just ask someone if you’re lost.”

Clawd grinned. “Preferably someone who knows where they’re going.”

Heath pointed at himself. “So not me.”

“Definitely not you,” Clawdeen said.

A laugh rippled around the table.

Even the first-years relaxed a little.

{All yours, cupcake}