#my inner furry is failing me

[onyxmistkes]

I LITERALLY GOT NOTICED BY THE OFFICIAL ACCOUNT FOR THE ANIMATED PILOT I'M GONNA EVAPORATE (/pos) $%^&*!@

have a little unfinished test animation I'm working on for bendy and some other unfinished/ practice art!!

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

"I trust you. I like you." — a potential fic based on this (x) Detailed notes on Sabo's design below!

For him, I initially thought of him as a shark of all things. I say that despite not knowing how to draw sharks uh. Here it is below.

I wanted him to be a big boy and have this immense size difference with Law. He's the tallest among the ASL trio and that meant he should be the biggest merman out of the three. He's not necessarily buffer but he just has a larger frame and a longer, more muscular tail.

I also wanted him to look like a freak, a huge figure with obscenely sharp teeth. I found images on Pinterest with sharks with scars that seemed to slice through their skin and I wanted to incorporate that throughout the design. A homage to Sabo's scarred eye, if you will.

He had horns too, for some reason. I just thought it looked cool.

However, what I didn't like about this design was that it didn't read like Sabo, or at least the version of Sabo I envisioned in my head. Hence, I gave up on it. It was sort of devastating because I wanted to try something new, but we move on!

Without a clear idea for what I wanted, I spent a lot of time struggling with not just Sabo's design but with what I wanted the illustration to be overall. Later that evening, I scrolled through Pinterest (again) and found images of eels and that just clicked.

They're just the right combination of cute and just downright weird. They have that snake-like look to them, which echoed my initial shark design. On top of that, they don't look as derpy from the front as compared to sharks.

I did try again to make Sabo freaky, as shown by this sketch below. It's based on a scene from that potential fan fic, where Sabo saves Law from drowning and his inner freak shines through. I imagined a dark lighting situation where Sabo's scars are the light source. It'll be quite creepy and I'd like to manifest this vision someday!

Anyways, from here, I focused on making Sabo look cool and pretty for the illustration. I retained his human face (I am not good enough for furry art) and focused on making his tail look SUPER cool.

It's interesting to me that with this revision, I found inspiration in my initial 'failed' design. I still kept the star-shaped scars and placed them on his tail and body.

They're blue because (1) I wanted to respect Sabo's colour palette and (2) I was inspired by those ocean creatures who glow underwater. I feel that would be a good plot point like Sabo would be insecure about that because it's admittedly kinda scary but Law would think it's reassuring.

That's all I have to say about the designs. I have ideas for Ace and Luffy, but I haven't sketched them out concretely yet. I'm thinking lion fish for Ace and a cute black fish species called the Pinnate Spadefish for Luffy.

The Pinnate Spadefish has one bold red/yellow stripe and I like to think that Luffy as a merman just painted it on to look like Ace. He shifts between red and blue to imitate his Cool™ older brothers.

But yeah, that's all. I needed to yap about this, so if you read this far, thank you for reading!

[cubic-watermelon]

PART 2 of my Shining Pearl Artlocke:

Valor lakefront: Girafarig Name: Gracie Nature: Hardy Ability: Inner focus

Merengue loves me, so...

The Great Marsh: wooper Name: Jeremiah Nature: Serious Ability: Water absorve

I arrived at route 213 desperately wanting a shelos. Found a wingull and killed it out of rage.

Went into the 4th gym with this team. It was easy. The hard part was NOT going over the level cap.

Jeremiah is a good boy and evolved. If Hopkins ever dies, he is going on the team.

Route 212: Budew Name: Julian Nature: Jolly Ability: Natural cure

My beautiful girls evolved.

Trophy garden: Pikachu Name: Mira Nature: Hasty Ability: Static

I spent an unhealthy amount of time in the underground trying to find a thunder stone. did not find one. and Apollo is now worthy of his name.

Team before and after the 5th Gym. I was sweating bullets! But I’m too big brain to fail!!!

Twinleaf town: Psyduck Name: Molly Nature: Gentle Ability: Damp

and... death 3 - Jeremiah. I was training him against some random trainers and a Gastrodon absolutely bodied him!!! I was sad but I remembered who the BEST water ground type really is!!! I WANT ONE!!!

My dream came true! Route 221: Shellos Name: Puddles Nature: Calm Ability: Storm Drain

I like Blue Shellos better but I won't complain. oh, and she evolved.

6th badge in the bag! My big brain moment was: the silly gym leader man thought trick room and sandstorm would work on me! I have a Puddles!!! It was almost too easy! (Hopkins almost died to a thunder fang from steelix)

Victoria Evolved! I wish I was playing the let's go games so I could ride her.

and I hatched another gifted egg: Canalave city - Riolu Name - Bones Nature - Rash AbilityInner - Focus

Bones evolved into a furry boy.

Route 216 - Machoke Name - Axel Nature - Naive Ability - No Guard

Double death!!! I thought Meregue could take out a trainer's Machoke with one dazzling gleam, but I was wrong.

and after that...This one really hurt. I lost Gracie to Hail after she was amazing during a long battle. I didn't have a full team because I'm trying not to over level

Route 217: Snover Name: Bianca Nature: Mild Ability: Snow warning

Acuity Lakefront: Sneasel Name: Eugene Nature: Relaxed Ability: Inner Focus

Gym 7 done. but...Renée died. I needed a clean switch and she was the only one I trusted to take a rock slide and not die. she died later to a karate chop. thank you for your sacrifice.

Route 222: Purugly Name: Mitzi Nature: Hasty Ability: own tempo

And I finally found a thunder stone! right before the last gym!

I did it!!! All the badges! I’m so proud of all my babies! Now it’s time for the scary part…

Death 7: right before entering the Pokémon league, I was challenged by "Rival" when he sent out Infernape I switched to Puddles. Wasn't expecting close combat to do so much damage!

FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!!!! To be continued...

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/cubic-watermelon/724832443187757056/this-is-part-3-of-my-shining-pearl-artlocke-on

[yashio-san]

Tag Game!

tagged by @haruandmayo (ty it was such a nice surprise!! this blog has been dead for quite a while but maybeeee i could post something again and get to know my cool mutuals better...)

1. Last Song

Tamer – Beautiful Crime (oooh so dramatic..... yummy)

2. Currently Watching

Well, nothing at the moment, but I really wanna rewatch Anne woth an E soon (it's such a wholesome and beautiful show 🥺)

3. Three Ships

Oof, only three?? I guess I get the most brainrot from mashirui, johnlock and mystrade (but I have tons of other bandori and non-bandori otps hehehe)

4. Favourite Color

Can't pick one!! It's blue, green and yellow for me (they're like my inner vibe or smth)

5. Currently Consuming

Nothing, but I'm gonna have my evil gay breakfast and then go to an evil gay walk. Self care

6. First Ship

That's a hard question actually bc I'm not sure which was the first first... Let's say it's the Disney Beauty and the Beast, love the book nerd and her furry bf so much!!! They were blorbos from my cartoon

7. Relationship Status

Single but with a hopeless crush... I'm a Sherlock coded person crushing on a John coded person. The tragedy

8. Latest Movie

I rewarched frozen recently and it was really cute! Anna and Kristoff are the best couple, and I'd like to add that Kristoff is some high quality writing and very good boyfriend material (even my lesbian ass approved his healthy communicaton and slow realistic development of his relationship with Anna)

9. Currently Working On

Well, at this particular moment I'm sitting in my evil gay bed getting late for my evil gay walk, but generally I'm trying to rewrite my fanfic that I've abandoned a huge time ago... I really really want to finish flame of hope bc this story is VERY important to me and I want it to be told but... writing is hard sometimes and there's school and my iron deficiency....... i am cringe (also not free)

I'm not sure I should share some of my new work right now bc I'm afraid that if I promise something to my readers again I'll fail again, so I'm trying to write just for process' sake. Besides flame of hope I'd like to post something abt Morfonica again, but I'm not quite sure what exactly... Well, we'll see if I can do something nice for the fandom again <3

Tagging @pureewhitesnow @sentientsoil @vertig0re

[timesothercompany]

Restshop

Gathering some thoughts after a dreaming together, listening, learning, presence-full restshop with Jaamil Olawale Kosoko & TO Love-in. I often struggle with the workshop format. My voice feels intrusive in my body. To not verbally share also feels like a withholding. Deep down, I know that part of me resists leaning on people. I am still learning how to be patient with how long it takes for me to digest energies and conversations. This writing encompasses some of the listening and digesting.

The theme is rest. First, there is softening. An invitation to vulnerability. A cozy portal. Hesitant steps into something furry in the beyond. I set my pen to page to flow write, a way to chart the journey. I always feel better when I have a map. But I think the point of this gathering was to get a little lost. Be destabilized. I felt that too. Jaamil was gently leading us into other possibilities. The portals were multiplying at the end of caves and at the lips of horizons. I was experiencing the way rest can activate the imagination and resound with the deepest self. How rest is catalyst for other ways of being.

when rest touches reality

In my meditative state, an awful vision of myself floated to the surface. When I feel stressed and I am furiously going about washing dishes, there is this thing I sometimes do: I will consciously waste the water. I let the tap run. I watch it go, knowing I would normally feel bad about it. I am usually careful to use the water in a specific way, I plan and choreograph the dishes in order to use as little water as possible. But when I am stressed, my not caring overcomes me. I want to waste. I don't know why I thought of this. But as someone who normally cares deeply about my human impact, I regard it as a small violence.

For a moment, I am ugly and uncaring. I believe I am in control of the water. How lovely it sounds. Yet, how pathetic to think that just because I have the privilege of access that I have control over whether water runs from the tap. Let's be clear. Water decides for itself. It is running through my body, it is the reason for all life on earth and beyond earth, it is life knowledge, it is bigger than us and it is part of us.

I don't think it is any coincidence that what comes forward in a moment of deep listening and rest is a situation of power and powerlessness. What my memory manifested was a ritual object, one that I reach out for daily to prepare my food and from which I eat. In ancient and medieval times, across many cultures, dishware was often inscribed with poetry, stories, and incantations.

It seems frivolous to judge the washing of dishes, but how can I be in right relationship if I cannot first face myself? What I identify about my reactive state is an embedded supremacy—the need to control—and a micro metaphor for the destruction humans cause when we are in constant production mode. When we fail to take rest. When what we really should be doing is sitting down and taking stock of our inner landscapes. The doing can wait another hour, another day. As Maxine Hong Kingston says in The Woman Warrior, "I let the dirty dishes rot."

How do we learn to sit with rotting? Learn to be comfortable with the smell of mold and decomposition, the multi-colored palette of bacterial life and death? Learn to release our need to improve upon and to control?

For Hong Kingston, rotting is her rebellion against prescriptive gender roles and domestic labor. Rotting is refusal. But rotting also restores balance. The rotting of dishes is necessary, at least for a moment, in order for Hong Kingston to preserve self.

on refusal

Jaamil's guidance also ushered us towards the idea of refusal, and together, we discussed refusal in relation to fugitivity, what Kosoko spoke to as "constant running." I am not really familiar with fugitivity as a concept, but I believe it is rooted in Jaamil's thinking around Marronage and the work of Bayo Akomolafe. Bear with me as I wander and ponder with these relatively new concepts here.

One of the lines of our host's inquiry was, In what ways can refusal operate outside of the fugitive framework? I summarize his question here. And I take some liberty to re-interpret it: How might refusal be seen as generative rather than fugitive? My words are not entirely aligned with Jaamil's questioning, but sometimes I need approximations to get me to the next place.

The first thing that came to mind was perhaps that refusal only occurs in systems of control. In a society based on control—the reforming, conforming, and forced obedience of bodies—any behavior outside of these expectations would be considered to be a resistance or refusal by a figure in power.

But let's imagine a world where control does not exist (we are not in that world, much imagination needed here). There is nothing to "be against" or "disobey" or "refuse" or run away from if bodies are not coerced. Perhaps what is regarded in the current system as refusal is just an expression of preference, of self. Or just an action, Jaamil added. I am in uncertain territory here and I want to be careful, because I am aware that naive ponderings can be neglectful of the lived experience of ancestors and historically marginalized folks. But I appreciate that Restshop held space for this kind of hypothetical and directionless musing without landing, a willingness to entertain the what ifs and travel alongside the learner.

From this, I might imagine that in a world very different from Hong Kingston's world, perhaps she simply preferred not to do the washing. She preferred to use her time to rest, to think, to write. Without her doing those things, we wouldn't have the gift of her books. So we may be glad that she let those dishes rot.

"the approach to the problem is the problem"

This is one teaching I am carrying forward with me from the workshop. It is from an audio recording of Akomolafe that Jaamil played for us during the session. For me, it points to the limited nature of our current thought paradigms (science, empiricism, sight-dominant perception, fixing, capitalism etc.) and in the context of the Restshop, suggests that engaging other approaches—moving, resting, walking, dancing, questioning, gathering reading, dreaming, deep listening, praying—might be more attuned to problem solving.

I can directly relate this to wanting to evolve the energies around my own creative practice, to move away from a feeling of forced production and of wanting too much. How might I change my approach and release my need to create within institutionalized forms of language and knowledge?

I am truly grateful to Jaamil for his work because it pushes towards feeling what it is unknown and limitless. I feel invited to play with the possibility of redefining doing on the level of individual existence, which is also the interpersonal, relational, and ecological levels. In the last session today, during a live sound conjuring by the artist Mlondi Dubazane, I wrote:

Walking backwards is returning to a womb-like state. Here, we have less to worry about. When we know less with the mind, we know more with the body. What are my stories? The rest exposes pre-existing knowledge. It liberates us from linear time. Taking care of the self is taking care of the stories. The stories are the pre-existing knowledge of our bodies.

I don't know if any of these things are true but that doesn't seem so important now. I am trying to listen deeply to the things that don't make sense as much as to the things that do, and just linger in their frequency.

[j-a-nuary]

I approach the microphone. Clearly, I'm nervous. I try to suppress the urge to fidget with my sleeves and immediately fail.

The crowd watches me like I'm a disappointing child about to play twinkle little star on the recorder.

Clearing my throat, I start speaking.

"Characters in Omegaverse fiction referring to their inner wolf doesn't make sense."

In a flash, the crowd grows from mildly annoyed to growing rage.

"They're just people!" I cry out, "they're human beings!"

A red dot slides up the podium and centers itself on my chest.

"Even if they have pheromones, it would just be a gut feeling!"

The crowd is loud now. A few people are leaving. Some have stood up and started shouting.

"It's just an evolutionary trait! It's just a intuition rebranded to cater to furri-"

The shot isn't heard over the roar of the crowd. My body crumples. I am granted no heroic two seconds of stunned silence.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[peeshotter]

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy, then send it to the last ten people in your notifications. You never know who might benefit from positive 💜

Ahoy! Thanks for asking me (i might not send this to the others because im still so shy AHHH)

This is gonna be a pretty long answer

Ehm. Ehm

OKAY SO.. FIVE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY?

Five things.. five things..

1. Knowing that im still alive?? I mean, Im so grateful. Im still alive. I can still feel hilarious things around here. Like.. woah, i still can breathe manually. More than enough to make me happy

2. Offline school. Yeah.. tho the schedule.. IS A BIT JERKY. 5 DAYS IN A WEEK?? I SPEND 9 HOURS IN SCHOOL. THE REAL FACE-TO-FACE SCHOOL. But IM SO HAPPY. The struggle of online school was so.. so.. painful and i dont want to go back to that era.. I ALSO MET A NEW CLASSMATE WHO ALSO PLAYED UNDERTALE WOOWOWO

3. DEFINITELY UNDERTALE (THANKS, TOBY). I always had awful experiences with my old fandoms (mostly because of myself, not the problem of the fandom itself). I joined a lot of fandoms but none of them fit in my taste and i got bored so easily. So i decided to leave all of the fandoms i joined (i still draw.. but that doesnt mean that im still hyping) for like... 2 YEARS, i started to draw my OCs only.. but slowly, i felt like.. i became.. homeless?? XDD until my friends recommended me to join Undertale. I started playing around.. a week ago ig. And i had such a good experience. METTATON. Yeah.. METTATON. HE ALWAYS MAKES ME HAPPY. HE MAKES ME FORGOT ABOUT MY INNER CONFLICT I HAD SINCE APRIL. He also cheers me up thru game! During my playthrough among the dark atmosphere in the underground. And there is A SPARK OF METTATONNN. Frans ship!! Hyping together with friends,,, never fails to make me feel excited X)

4. People around me. Mostly online friends and people on tumblr. Whenever i open my tumblr, i always feel so happy when i get a lot of wholesome and sweet notifications from yall (=｀ェ´=)

5. My artworks?? OCs! Artstyle! My creations! I treat.. my childhood differently. My childhood was so.. SPECIAL FOR ME! Knowing that im getting older and older, i cant go back to my childhood. So i make my artstyle looks as childish as i can! My artworks come from my spontaneity and a blasting energy from my inner child memories. It always takes me back to the old colorful days

Sorry if there's a typo and my English AHSGAHGS English is not my first language orz And MY MESSYYYY WORD ORDER SOBS

Have a nice day!

There.. some of my artworks<3 which make me happy! The yellow haired girl and grey furry characters belong to my friends, the rest are fully mine

[trashyswitch]

The Duke's Revenge

After the events of Working THROUGH Intrusive Thoughts, Remus decides to find ways to get revenge on Logan. And what better than to make Logan feel calm in front of him? What if DIDN'T expect, was for tickling to be involved...

This fanfic is for @agarus-fallen-lershal. I hope you enjoy!

Logan was watching a documentary on Ancient Egypt very curiously.

Suddenly, someone came bursting into the room. “LOGAN!” The person yelled.

Logan sighed, paused the documentary and grabbed his wine bottle. “What do you want, Remus?”

How could you?! I was working so hard to make Thomas FREAK OUT! AND YOU RUINED IT!” Remus shouted.

Logan sipped a bit of wine. “And you failed to repent like you were going to.”

“That was what I call...Acting?” Remus declared, placing his hand onto his own heart. “Ever heard of it?”

“Actually, I have. Acting has been around since the Egyptian times, though the acting was more ritual based and was done to represent religious stories.” Logan explained.

“Well DUH!” Remus did a full on catwalk up to the man and poked his chest with his finger. “My exposure is made to HELP Thomas! And your mechanisms are ruining my show!” Remus shot back. “I’ll make you pay...In some form or another!”

Logan chuckled. “You have no idea how yet? How hilarious.” Logan reacted calmly.

“Oh, I know exactly how I’m gonna make you ruin you...And I know you’re gonna love it~” Remus declared.

“Oh?” Logan leaned in and smirked. “And how are you going to do that?”

Remus summoned some tentacles and lifted Logan up quickly. Logan yelped at first, but didn’t really lose his composure other than that. “Oh?” Logan reacted. “And what are you gonna do? Make me beg?”

“Noooo…” Remus smirked. “Something tells me it wouldn’t work on you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna do this:” Remus snapped his fingers and watched as the tentacles started...rubbing his feet?

Logan widened his eyes and bit his lip. Uh oh...This was not how he had planned his night to go…

Remus smiled. “Everyone likes a good foot rub! And something tells me you haven’t been doing much to lessen your own stress as well as Thomas’s.” Remus told him.

“I...Don’t have...s-stress.” Logan told him.

“Trying to prevent from enjoying it, huh?” Remus teased. “If you just relaaaaax, you’ll enjoy it much better!”

Logan tugged on his foot, trying to get it out. But it was no use. Logan was stuck there.

“R-Remus!” Logan yelled.

“Yeeeesss?” Remus replied.

“St-Stop it-” Logan grunted in surprise and curled his feet.

“Ooooh, I imagine that foot rub feels aaamaaaazing to you…” Remus walked up and started scratching his foot. “Such a lovely foot rub...such a soft touch...such a-”

Remus paused as he heard something strange come from Logan’s mouth. Was...Was that a titter?!

“Wait…” Remus looked down at the foot and decided to try tweaking and scratching it.

This was enough to crack the dam open and let something seep through:

“AAhahahaha! Ahahahehehehe! Nohohoho dahahammihihit!”

L-Laughter?!

“I-Really?! You’re laughing right now?!” Remus reacted.

Logan shook his head and tried to pull on the tentacles to get him out.

“Wait a second…” Remus smiled as he tickled the bottom of his foot again.

Logan squealed! And that told Remus everything!

“You’re ticklish!” Remus reacted loud and proud.

“Ohohobviouslyhyhyhy!” Logan giggled.

“Well that changes everything!” Remus snapped his fingers, making the tentacles stop their rubbing. The tentacles moved to Logan’s feet, and placed the suction cups onto the bottoms of his feet. Logan gasped and yelped loudly as he experienced what felt like ‘kisses’ on both his feet from the tentacles! The suction cups were suctioning to his feet and letting go of Logan’s feet! Suctioning, off. Suctioning, off. Suctioning, off. This was being repeated all over Logan’s flat inner arch as well as his heels, and balls of his feet.

“OHOHOHOHO GOHOHOHAHAHAHAD! IHIHIT FEEHEHEHELS WEIHIHIHIRD!” Logan laughed loudly.

“Awwww! My green tentacles love you! They’re showing so much affection too!” Remus cooed. “Go for his belly too, if you please!” Remus encouraged.

The tentacles stopped tickling and slithered up his legs to the belly region. Logan giggled his way through all the slithers, and gained another octave the moment he felt ‘kisses’ on his belly. “OHOHOHO NOHOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!” Logan begged. “TOHOHOO TIHIHICKLIHIHISH!” Logan squealed.

“Toooo ticklish?” Remus asked. “Well that should be wonderful then! Oh Tenty’s~” Remus called. The tentacles stopped the moment they were called. “Give Logan some flutters with your tips along with the kisses. I think he would love that very much!”

“Now WAIT A MINUTE REMU- EEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan threw his head back and hit the highest note possible as his belly and sides were tickled all over again.

And this time, with kisses AND skitters! How was this fair?!

“Hey, whaddaya know? He LOVES it!” Remus declared.

Logan blushed a little at this. “DOHOHOHOHO NAHAHAHAHAT!” Janus yelled.

“Do too! I can tell!” Remus mentioned. “You’re even blushing, ya dork!” Remus told him.

Logan’s blush only got even worse. “STAHAHAP THEHEHEHE TEHEHEHEHEASIHIHIHING!”

“Naaaah, you seem to love that too!” Remus replied. “I can tell that much.”

“NOHOHOHOHO! FAHAHALSEHOHOHOHOOD!” He yelled.

“I falehood your falsehood, oh ticklish one.” Remus declared casually with a smug grin.

Logan was a wriggling, whining mess of giggles and laughter. There were even some hiccups and snorts thrown in there! Randomly as well!

“Oooooh! I know where to tickle neeeeext~” Remus declared.

Logan hummed as the tickling stopped for a few moments. Logan looked at Remus with a confused look for a bit. But then:

“What are you planni- eeeEEEK!” Logan squeaked and squealed as a tentacle or two started tickling on and around his ears. “Uh oh! Uhuhuh ohohohoh!” Logan reacted. “Nahat the ears, nahahahahat thehe ehehehears!” Logan begged.

“Awwwwww! Does Logey-pogey-ogey have ticklish ears?” Remus teased.

Logan had only continued to giggle as the tentacles gave him the equivalent of wet willies onto his sensitive ears. And the slight slime that the tentacles had, worked like baby oil on his already ticklish ears! It just enhanced it!

“Stahahahahahahahap! Ehehehehehehehe! Ehehehehehahahahahahahaha! Ihihihi’m gohohonna gehehehet yohohohou fohohohor thihihis!” Logan swore to him.

“Ohohohoh! Swearing vengeance now? You shouldn’t have done that~” Remus hinted. Remus grabbed out some feathers and a straw cleaner, and gave them to the tentacles. “Use these!”

The tentacles moved up to the other tickling tenties, and replaced their spot. The tooled tentacles started tickling Logan’s ears with the feathers given to them, while the tentacle with the straw cleaner started gently placing the cleaner into Logan’s outer ear canal and spinning it.

For some reason...The straw cleaner was so much more effective! Logan started actually cackling, the moment he felt the spinning straw cleaner in his ear hole! It felt like a furry bug trying to flutter and snuggle itself into his ear! It felt so weird and so ticklish!

“THIHIHIS IHIHIHIS NOHOHONSEHEHEHENSE! RIHIHIDIHIHICULOUS!” Logan yelled at him.

“Oh, You don’t think I know that? I am very well aware.” Remus teased. “I just felt like causing some ‘nonsensical’ behaviour today! And something tells me you’re enjoying it as much as your highness, The Duke, is!” Remus teased.

“AHAHAHAM NOHOHOHOT! STAHAHAP!” Logan shot back. He was still denying it after all this time.

So, Remus did a test. He stopped tickling and waited.

Logan started breathing heavily after being tickled, and hung his head as he went limp. Logan soon started looking at the tentacles beside him, and started whining and smiling all wobbly. He was trying to say something to Remus.

“I’m sorry, my deary. What were you trying to say?”

“Whydidyoustop? Ididn’twantyoutostop.” Logan muttered quickly.

“Oooooooooh! You want me to keep going? Is that it?” Remus teased.

Logan nodded his head. “Yesplease.”

Remus giggled and returned the straw cleaner to Logan’s ear. “Your wish is my command, Sir Logan of tickleland!” Remus’s tentacles started tickling his ears all over again. But this time, one of the feathers moved down and started tickling Logan’s belly button!

“HAhahahahaha! Behehehelly buhuhuhutton!” Logan giggled. “Tihihihicklihihihihish!”

“Belly button ticklish, eh?” Remus teased. “That’s some good ol’ grammar ya got there!” Remus teased further.

“Thahahahank yohohohohou.” Logan continued to giggle.

“Saaaaay: Remus muttered. “Try the straw cleaner in the belly button instead!” Remus told the tentacles.

Sure enough, the tentacle did listen and started spinning the straw cleaner in Logan’s belly button. This left Logan in a giggly, giddy state for a short while. The many spinning bristles of the straw cleaner tickled his belly button quite a bit. It was more than enough to drive Logan up the wall with his own sensitivity!

“Awwww! It’s working! Keep going! Keep going!” Remus encouraged.

The tentacles certainly did, and tickled his feet with a mix of the feathers and the suction cups again.

“AhahahahaHAHAHAHAHA! THAHAhahahat’s wohohohorse!” Logan laughed. “NAhahAHAHAT THEheheheHEHEHEHE FEHEHEhehEHEHEHeheheHEET!” Logan begged.

“Poor Logan! Such ticklish feet and nowhere to go!” Remus reacted. “Whatever will he do?!”

Logan laughed and giggled, snorted and squealed through every second of tickling he was given.

“Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!” Remus teased.

“NOHOHOHOT THAHAHAT WOHOHOHORD!” Logan yelled.

“What word? Tickle? Does the tickle word tickle your funny bone? It does?! Then a tickle tickle tickle!” Remus teased.

Logan had had enough now. As much as he was enjoying it, it was getting to be too much.

“BREHEHEHEHEAK!” Logan ordered.

“Oh! Right, forgot about that.” Remus stopped tickling Logan as soon as he could, and lowered him down. “Are you okay?” He asked, making sure he was alright. He wiped away any phantom tickles that were still plaguing the tickle spots that were touched, and summoned Logan a bottle of water.

Logan took the water and without thinking, drank it down. Logan suddenly widened his eyes and spat all the liquid out. “Oh god-”

“What? Was that not water?” Remus asked.

“V-Vinegar.” Logan told him.

Remus hummed and touched the water bottle. Quickly, the water turned bright orange and darkened to an orangish red. “Juice. No vinegar.” Remus told him.

Logan hesitantly took a sip of the drink, and drank more as he discovered it was safe. It tasted like fruit punch with orange juice mixed in. It tasted really good. “That’s some good stuff. You’re not all bad.” Logan admitted.

“Aww, Thank you Logan.” Remus replied.

Logan smiled. “And thank you...for...that.” Logan pointed to the tentacles that were still holding onto the feathers and the straw cleaner.

“No problem, Alexandria.” Remus replied.

Logan laughed at the nickname. “I like that, actually.” Logan admitted, pointing to him.

Remus giggled. “I knew you would.”

Logan soon wished Remus goodbye and sat back down in his seat. He had to admit: all the tickling had made the man tired. Logan laid his head down onto his desk and after some time, Logan managed to fall asleep.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

James Potter Supremacy

“James Potter is a bully toe rag. He was a bad person”

“Peter followed him around like a puppy. James treated him like shit, that’s why Peter betrayed him”

James yawned laying back on the chair. He couldn’t study anymore. He was done.

“Alright, Wormy. We need to sleep a bit to be bright and fresh tomorrow”

James looked at Peter. He seemed pale, tired, stressed nearly about to cry.

“Go ahead, James. I’m gonna stay for a little while”

“Mate, you need to rest. We’ve been in The Library all the bloody afternoon”

Peter shook his head, staring at his book.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure Pads and Moony are done shagging by now” he laughed a bit at his own joke.

But Peter didn’t laugh.

“That’s my point” Peter sniffed “We’ve been here the whole bloody afternoon and nothing seems get into my brain….” Peter was pulling his hair “I’m so stupid”

“You’re not stupid”

“I’m probably gonna fail. You guys are gonna get tops marks in everything and I might have to repeat the whole year again”

“Hey, hey…” James said facing his friend “Don’t discourage yourself Pete. You’re very intelligent”

Peter snorted.

“Yeah you are” James said “You’ve done incredible pranks with us…”

“None of them were my ideas…”

“What about the time we changed gravity in The Great Hall?”

“Moony’s idea”

“You turned into you know what, for Moony’s you know what furry little problem”

James turned around to see if someone was around, luckily no.

“I had your help”

Shit. Peter was so negative and down. James knew perfectly well that to cheer Pete up, they had to preach him, tell him he was doing things right. James tried to do that all the time. But there were times when Peter just didn’t believe him. That nothing could make him cheerful again.

“Okay” James said opening his own book “Page one hundred and forty what was it?”

“Forty-two”

James opened the page.

“Conjuration. Let me guide you up” James said

“I thought you were tired…”

“I’m gonna revise again, this test is gonna be difficult you’re right”

It would be easy piecey. Minnie usually asked a few questions and then they were supposed to write a little essay on the topic of their choice.

“But…”

“I made this helpful summary, I’m gonna read it. You should write this down”

Peter looked at James, then he smiled.

“You’re an imbecile”

“Don’t need to insult me Wormy, I’m bloody studying…”

“You…”

“Shh”

And James began reading. He didn’t have a summary but he tried to explain the subject as easy as possible.

Peter nodded and scribbled things on his parchment.  

After a few hours. James pretended to study again. Actually, he was reading the same line over and over again. He already knew this stuff. And he was so bloody tired. But Peter seemed to be concentrating more, he muttered things to himself as he wrote them down. James smiled.

I knew you could do it, Pete.

Finally, both boys were kicked out if The Library by Madame Pince.

As they headed back to The Gryffindor Tower. Peter seemed to be relaxed. Cheeks flustered and a little smirk on his face.

James’ heart warmed up.

“Wow, thank you Pete. I needed that revision. I had so many things wrong”

He didn’t want Peter to think he had made James stay with him for nothing.

“Cheers James. You’re a good friend”

James smiled as he rubbed his friend’s hair.

“Come on, I deserve a kiss”

“What?”

“Just a little peek on the cheek, come one” James joked as he pointed to his cheek.

“No way”

“You said I was a good friend”

“Keep dreaming…” Pete rolled his eyes and walked away.

“Oi! Pettigrew! Just give in to my sweet face and give me a kiss”

“Shut up Potter” Peter laughed

“You shut up” James laughed as well

 “Remus just stands James for what he did for him. But James was a bully. Remus should’ve stopped being friends with someone like that”

“Where’s Sirius?”

Remus asked as James approached him after Charms.

“With another girl” James rolled his eyes.

Moony’s face went down adopting a sad expression. It had happened before, when James mentioned Sirius’ girlfriends. James knew something was happening. James was no stupid. He knew his boys pretty well.

“And Pete?”

“Chess club”

Remus just nodded.

“It’s just you and me handsome” James winked.

Remus smiled a little.

“Why are you so gloomy to spend an evening with me? Am I that horrible?”

“Yes, James. You’re a nightmare” Remus said smiling

“Oi!”

“As long as you don’t talk about Quidditch, or Lily…”

“Bloody tosser”

 James and Remus had dinner together.

“Did you notice how pretty Evans looks?”

James couldn’t avoid noticing her hair was longer, with soft curls all over it. Pretty.

“Why did I say about the Lily talk?”

“Fucking twat”

Remus laughed as he chewed.

James noticed he looked kind of sick and pale.

“Do you want my chocolate tart?” he asked “I think I’m full”

Remus beamed at that “Yes, please”

James smiled as he passed him the dessert.

Good Moony, eat up. You look miserable.

Sirius entered The Great Hall. His hair was a mess and his shirt slightly opened. Cheeks kind of red. Fucking wanker.

“Hello lads” he sat down serving himself some Pumpkin juice.

“I’m guessing you already ate, Padfoot” James commented

Sirius smirked.

James noticed Remus flinched beside him. He looked pissed.

“I have to say it, Ravenclaws might be studious and all, but they definitely know what they are doing” he winked.

James hated when Sirius behaved like this. He was an imbecile, playing to be cool and a fuckboy.

“You’re a wanker”

Sirius laughed.

“I’m glad you had fun, Padfoot” Remus said sarcastically.

“Don’t worry, Moony. I’m all yours now…”

“You know what? I was fine without you. Enjoying my tart, and you needed to come and ruin it”

“Lads…” James said

“Wow… Someone is not in a good mood. I thought the full moon wasn’t until next week…”

“FUCK YOU SIRIUS”

“Rem…”

“What am I doing? I just came here to share dinner with my friends, and you started insulting me”

“Then go! Bloody go with your new sweetheart or whatever…”

“Prongs…” Sirius complained

James raised his shoulders “I don’t know what’s going on…”

“You know what? I might go with Pru and have dinner with her…”

“I’m not stopping you!”

“You’re such a tosser Moony…”

“Thank you very much…”

“I can’t believe you’re on his side, James”

“I’m not in anybody’s side”

Sirius rolled his eyes and left furiously.

“Sirius…” James called after him.

But Sirius ignored him.

James raised an eyebrow to Remus.

“What was that all about?”

“I’m sick of him bragging about girls”

“Moony…”

“I’m not longer hungry” he stood up “I’m gonna go to the dorm”

“I’m coming with you”

As they were walking back, Remus stopped. And he leaned on the wall with pain.

“What is it Remus?”

“I’m fine.”

“Remus…”

“My hip hurts a bit”

“Let’s go The Hospital Wing”

“James, it’s nothing…”

“Don’t be stupid, Remus”

James hated when Remus didn’t take care of himself. He was clearly in pain, and he didn’t want to do anything about it.

“Remus…”

“Jus’ take me to the dorm, James”

James let Remus leaned on him as he placed his arm around him.

“This is ridiculous”

“Shut up, Lupin. You should be pleased you’re in this position with me. Anyone would kill to be on your shoes”

Remus laughed “Tosser”

James was smiling now. He loved making his friends happy.

“I’m still worried though”

“I’m okay…”

James didn’t insist. They got to their dorm and James helped Remus lay down in bed. James made Remus swallow a relaxing potion his mum had given him in case of any stress. Remus needed to sleep for a bit. Remus must’ve known what it was because he didn’t complain.

“Cheers”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…”

“I’m fine, really” Remus smiled

“Moony…”

“Prongs…”

James sat down on Remus’ bed. He rubbed his friend’s hair gently.

“Sirius will stop seeing all those girls” he said “He’s gonna come back to us”

To you.

James saw Remus closing his eyes, the potion was taking effect now.

“You’re a good friend, Prongs” Remus said before drifting to sleep.

 “James and Sirius were a pair of stupid boys who didn’t give a shit about anyone. Popular rich boys in a good position to bully others”

James waited for Sirius to come back. The letter he had received from his parents this morning must’ve been bad, because after that, Sirius disappeared all day. Remus seemed to be bloody worried, he had insisted on coming with James, but he didn’t let him. He had instructed Pete to take care of him. Remus needed to rest. The full moon had been the day before.

James considered having a smoke while he waited. But he thought better of it, he didn’t know how. And he didn’t want to go back and ask Remus for one.

Finally, James saw the figure of Sirius coming to the castle.

“Where were you?”

Sirius’ eyes looked puffed. He had been crying.

“Having a romantic moonlight walk by myself” Sirius laughed “You didn’t have to wait for me, Prongs”

Sirius wanted to walk by but James stopped him.

“Just stop with this, Pads”

“With what?”

“You can fool anyone in the world. Not me”

Sirius snorted “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

James was getting impatient.

“I’m very offended, Pads”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I ever did or said anything to make you believe that you have behave like this idiot fuckboy who doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone…”

Sirius looked hurt “I…”

“Why are you behaving like this around me?”

“Prongs…”

“I KNOW YOU CARE, PADFOOT”

James didn’t mean to yell but he didn’t know what else to do. Sirius jumped.

“I know you care about your parents and it affects you whatever they say on those letters… I know you miss Regulus that you love him despite all….”

Sirius looked down.

“I know you don’t give a shit about any of those girls… You know? You’re hurting Moony…”

Sirius looked up at that. His eyes were glittery. He was biting his inner lip to avoid crying. James knew him too well.

“I didn’t mean to”

“Sirius you’re not made of stone. You’re allowed to feel”

Sirius shook his head.

“You…you don’t understand…”

“I do…”

“I have… I have expectations… Everyone is looking at me…”

“Fuck what they think…”

“I’m so…I’m so scared” Sirius had tears on his eyes.

“Pads… I’m your best friend. I don’t care if you break down…”

Sirius kept shaking his head.

“Sirius…” James said more softly “Come here…” he opened his arms.

“I…”

“Come here”

James hugged Sirius. His friend seemed to be tense between his arms.

“It’s okay to cry, Sirius. I’m not gonna judge”

“James…” Sirius whispered before bursting into tears.

“It’s okay Pads. I’m here” James whispered “I’m always gonna be here”

Sirius sobbed even more on his shoulder. Letting out everything he had been accumulating.

 Later, as they approached the Portrait Hall, Sirius stopped James.

“Why would do without you James?”

James smiled.

“I honestly don’t bloody know. I take you ass out of the worst situations”

Sirius laughed.

“I do care about Moony” he said looking down, and kind of blushing? “I never intended to hurt him. He is one of my best friends…”

“But not your best friend, right? That’s me”

Sirius smiled “That’s you”

James smiled back “You should tell him then. Just fix things with Moony…”

Sirius nodded.

James entered the Common Room, climbing up to their dorm. Sirius followed. Before James opened the door, he turned to look at Sirius, he smiled and winked, letting him know everything was okay. And back to normal.

Then James opened the door.

“Hello boys…. Who fancies having his ass beaten by me in an Exploding Snap Game?”

 “Lily should never have chosen James. He was a bully who molested her best friend and couldn’t take a no for an answer”

James didn’t particularly like Petunia. And he knew she hated him. And then it was Vernon, Petunia’s fiancé. James seemed to irritate Vernon with only his mere presence. He was eyeing at James with such furry and disgust, and he wasn’t even trying to be discreet. James felt uncomfortable.

Petunia was talking about their apparent perfect life. They had bought a new muggle car, that seemed to be a thrill for muggles. Vernon had been promoted on his job; James didn’t know what he did. He had explained but James didn’t seem to understand, it sounded boring. They were talking about the preparations for their upcoming wedding.

Lily seemed tensed. She had tried to comment and congratulate her sister. But that bitch shut her up. James was about to take his wand out and jink the shit out her. But he didn’t want to look like a mental on Lily’s house. And they were all muggles. James had to behave like a gentleman.

Lily’s hand moved nervously under the table. James took it on his own. Lily finally looked at him. James smiled. Lily smiled back grateful to have him here.

After dinner, James thanked Mr. and Mrs. Evans over and over again for the delicious dinner. Mr. Evans was nice. Mrs. Evans seemed to be a bit awkward around him. Lily had told him she acted like that around everyone magical.

The Evans started to be very busy with Petunia’s wedding. Her and her mother discussed about dresses and other stuff. They talked about decoration, food, music all that. As if James didn’t know some spells to prepare a ceremony in seconds. Poor muggles, James loved having magic.

Lily seemed sad, she felt out of place as she watched her family discuss those things.

“James, can we go somewhere else?” pleaded

“Of course”

James took Lily’s hand and dragged her to the kitchen. They needed to hide from the muggles to be able to apparate.

“Where do want to go?”

“Anywhere but here” Lily said with tears in her eyes.

James wiped them up gently, before apparating. James took Lily to The Potter’s beach house. It was the only place he could think of. It was his happy place. He had so many memories there. As soon as they got there, Lily began pacing.

She snorted

“They have the nerve… They just keep celebrating and being happy about Petunia and her wedding… And they don’t have any idea of what a horrible world we are living in”

James knew what she was talking about. The war. James and Lily had decided to join Dumbledore’s Order after graduation and fight.

“I have explained it to them… I really have. What I would do” Lily continued “And they just don’t understand. They don’t seem to care actually”

“Hey, Lils…”

“I mean until they don’t see something on the telly they won’t believe it, but there won’t be something on the telly… Fuck…”

“Lils…”

“And Petunia is now the golden girl because she is going to get married.... Since when getting married is better than giving up your life to fight for something good…”

“Lily…” James had reached her. He made her stop and look at him.

“And I’m doing this for them! James! I’m fighting for them!”

James smiled, stroking her hair.

“You need to yell”

“What?”

“You need to let it all out”

“I don’t…” Lily snorted

“Let me show you”

James took out his wand and performed a silent charm on the house.

“Now you can yell all you want without no one bothering you”

“I’m not gonna do that” Lily smiled

“Why not? You’re gonna feel better, trust me”

“James…” Lily bit her lip

“Like this… Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah”

James yelled. Lily laughed at him.

“Your turn”

Lily shook her head. She was smiling behind her sweater sleeve.

“Come on, babe. Trust me”

Lily took a deep breath before yelling.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

James laughed amused at his girlfriend.

“FUCK YOU PETUNIA!! FUCK YOU SNAPE!! FUCK EVERYONE!”

“FUCK EVERYONE!”

“FUCK EVERYOOOOONEEEEEE!!”

They both laughed. Then James pulled Lily towards him.

“Fuck everyone but you” she whispered now

James kissed her.

“I’m so in love with you Lily”

Lily smiled so beautifully that James’ heart jumped on his chest.

“How long that spell lasts?” she asked

“An hour or so, why?”

Lily blushed “Perfect. Let see if you make good silencing charms”

James’ face was on fire, he was sure he was bright red.

Lily laughed. And then she kissed him so fiercely, like she never had done before.

James heart was jumping on his chest. He was so in love with Lily that sometimes it scared him.

Lily began unbuttoning James’ shirt. He took it off.

Oh, bloody hell. He had had sex before but not with Lily. He was bloody nervous. What if fucked it up? James found himself breathing nervously and shaking for some reason.

Lily took off her sweater and dress. And she stood there only on her underwear. Lily smiled embarrassed.

“Oh shit…”

James sighed because he had no other words to say. But before he could say anything else, Lily kissed him again.

They laid on the nearest couch. James on top of her. He was still shaking, like a tosser. Why did this happen to him? He was supposed to be confident. But James was nervous, he really didn’t want to fuck it up.

Lily didn’t seem to notice. She seemed to confident and sexy, even though James knew it was her first time.

She smiled stroking James’ cheek. They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Are you sure about this, Lils?”

James was surprised on how shaken his voice sounded.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life” she said “I love you, James”

James was out of breath for a second.

“I love you too”

And James proceeded to kiss Lily’s lips, then Lily’s neck and breasts… He needed to warm up his body to avoid shaking.

“Oh James…” Lily sighed as he kissed her body.

This would be one of the most precious moments in James’ life. He was completely in love.

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship: Respect

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Warnings:  Mentions and depictions of smoking/tobacco usage

Next chapter | AO3 version

Slight revisions and full version posted on: 5/4/2021

The alarm clock on your phone is loud and annoying, but it’s the only sound that will wake you up without fail so you can get a head start on your more demanding days, like today.

Groggy and neck a bit strained, a sign that you’ve slept on it wrong, you carefully push yourself up and off your bed. You come across your first hurdle of the day. A few wolf cubs had settled on your chest and your sides during the night. You try carefully to move them off of you and to the side of their mother, who has settled near your feet and isn’t afraid to growl or snap her jaw should you even think of shifting or moving away from her. Unfortunately, the pups seem determined to stick by your side despite your efforts. Luckily the pack’s alpha, Gunter, is settled right behind your head and acted as your pillow for the night. He must be why your neck feels stiff as hell.

You reach back and start petting behind his ear, rubbing into the bunch of dotted scars beneath his coarse hair. You feel his body stretch and shake as he wakes up as well. A small whine comes out of him as he gives out an enormous yawn. It makes you yawn as well.

“Ready to start the day?” you whisper to him.

He huffs with a bit of attitude as if to say, “Not really, but what choice do I have?”

You redirect his attention to his pups, preventing you from sitting up without disturbing everyone else. With silent understanding, he removes himself from underneath your head and carefully steps over one of his brothers, who has graciously allowed you to use him as an armrest somewhere during the night. After another good morning stretch, Gunter begins the slow and steady process of picking the pups up from the scruffs off their necks and setting them elsewhere on your bed.

While he does this, you grab your phone and do a quick sweep of all your notifications. You have a few emails, one a weekly newsletter about current and future school events, most of it spam. You have a couple of dozen messages from Ace and Deuce detailing an argument over whether the former ate the latter’s piece of strawberry shortcake they were saving for after dinner. Apparently, they thought to ask you to be their mediator since it was clear they weren’t going anywhere arguing and pointing fingers back and forth at each other.

Unfortunately for them, they messaged you right after you conked out. You were exhausted yesterday, having to deal with an especially rambunctious and mischievous Grim. You were also scrambling to gather the reading materials needed for one of your classes before the other students can snag them. The most recent and urgent incident is figuring out what to do now that the only generator that powers up all of Ramshackle is going out or outright failing to even start up at all. You also have a decently sized garden to tend to, and the next large harvest is today. Once everything has been properly collected, washed, and either stored away in your pantry or given to Sam so he can sell and make a profit on your behalf and his own (it’s a 60/40 split and you had to fight tooth and nail for that 60), you have to replant everything once again after you’ve tilled the soil…

To say that there’s a lot on your plate is an understatement.

Free from your furry prison, you’re finally able to sit up and move your limbs freely. Something slightly damp presses against your bare shoulder, calling for your attention. Gunter, still clearly tired (expected of anyone, human or wolf, having to wake up at six o’clock in the morning), is now awaiting proper payment for his services.

“I got some dried venison in the kitchen,” you offer. The way his one good eye pops wide open and his tail begins to rapidly wag, the deer jerky will suffice.

You give the top of his head one last rub before standing up and heading straight for your bathroom to take a quick shower. Since the availability of electricity has been scarce lately, so is the availability of heating throughout the dorm. Unlike the ghosts, who can’t differentiate between hot and cold (unless it’s magically sourced), you can. Unlike the ghosts who are already dead, you will die in this late winter cold. Grim has better control of his blue flames compared to when you first met him, so he can now essentially be his own heater. He seemed a bit too comfortable keeping himself warm and letting you freeze to death, considering you’re the only reason he’s enrolled in this school.

You make do with what you have and your situation. Even when you gathered all the untorn and clean blankets and piled them on top of you last night, the cold still found its way underneath your cocoon. Gunter, the leader of a small bunch of wolves you had been taking care of during your first few weeks in Twisted Wonderland, must have seen you struggling to stave off the cold and settled himself next to you during the night followed by his brother, his sister, and finally Gunter’s mate and their pups.

Of course, with three full-grown wolves and four chubby wolf babies as your immediate heat sources, you overheated in no time and had to throw off all your covers and strip down to your underclothes in the middle of the night since your pajamas had quickly gotten soaked in sweat (and most definitely covered in their thick fur). A cold shower is just what you need to clean up after a long night drenched in sweat.

You also need to clean your sheets, but without electricity, your washer and dryer are out of order for the time being…

Dammit.

Cold showers suck, but once the ice-cold water hits your back, it woke you the hell up. You probably spent only five minutes in there before you quickly rinsed off and got out because of how unbearable the ice water was.

Once you’re properly toweled dried, you head to your closet and change. You put on clothes you don’t mind getting covered in dirt and sweat; a simple wool sweatshirt and some overalls lined with thick fleece. You also put on a pair of knitted crew socks and secure them to your leg with a pair of garters.

Right as you snap the final metal clasp on the knotted fabric, you feel a familiar bump on your shoulder. Gunter is giving you his best pleading face he can manage. Most people likely wouldn’t fall for it, what with the many scars littering across his body and face, making him look scary rather than cute. You feel a little tug in your heart. Luckily, you’re all dressed up and ready to start your day, so you quickly straighten up and usher him downstairs to give him his well-deserved treat. You grab your phone before you exit your room so you can peruse it on your way.

As you read over old texts and useless emails, a new notification comes in. It’s another message. As surprised as you are to receive a message so early in the morning (Ace and Deuce are likely still snoring and drooling into their pillows at this hour), it is the sender of the text that makes your slowed strides halt completely.

Good morning. I hope you had a pleasant and well-deserved night of rest. I’m currently getting ready to head over to the Ramshackle dorm to help you with your harvesting, as I promised. The coat you’ve made and gifted me during the holidays also fits perfectly and is by far the most comfortable piece of clothing I now own.

Thank you again for your most generous gift. I will inform you when I have arrived.

Yours truly,

Malleus Draconia

You can’t help but smack your palm on your forehead. You’re not annoyed or exasperated, it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re happy that Malleus’s charm can somehow manifest even within a text message. In fact, this isn’t the first time he’s sent you a message formatted and written like a formal letter. If someone were to look at the small messaging history between you two, they’d see that a great majority of it is just Malleus sending you these long strings of text. They would also find your messages, or rather, your poor and embarrassing attempts at mimicking his language and style (he says he gets a laugh out of them, so maybe they’re as bad as you think). There’s also always a follow-up message, gently reminding and encouraging him to relax and not worry about offending you for speaking casually for you.

His response is always the same, and it makes your stomach feel strangely fuzzy.

You have earned my respect, now I must strive to earn yours.

It’s only been a little over a month since he dropped the bombshell that was his desire for your friendship to evolve into a proper, romantic relationship. To say it surprised you is another understatement. You were thoroughly flabbergasted once your mind finally registered his words as genuine. To hear him say “I love you” and direct such a powerful statement towards you was truly the last thing you expected since arriving in this strange world.

But through all the outer uncertainties there was one thing you were certain of, your inner uncertainties. Malleus is a dear friend of yours. Even amongst Ace or Deuce, two individuals who have been with you since the beginning and nearly every overblot incident that has come your way, Malleus holds a special place in your heart as your dearest friend.

But a friend is all he’s ever been in your mind. There was truly never an instance where you pondered or even held some amount of desire or expectation that your friendship could evolve into something more. You felt like a total prick during the end of his confession, asking him if you could sit on his words for a while and come back to him when you have a more certain and final answer to give. Watching the hope and nervousness in his eyes turn into one of pure and utter sadness and even embarrassment, yet he willed himself to conceal his heartbroken emotions back for your sake. It hurt like hell. What was supposed to be an exciting and relaxing end-of-winter-break party in Scarabia’s dorm (and an apology party for Jamil’s actions against you), turned awkward. Neither of you stayed any longer once you went your separate ways.

Despite what had happened, when you received a proper smartphone (and a proper phone plan to boot) as a gift for Christmas, one of the first things you did was transfer all your old contacts into the new device. The first person you messaged was Malleus, wanting to check in on him after your last encounter and to wish him a happy holiday. He answered back in a matter of minutes, much to your surprise. While he’s not the most tech-savvy, your major concern was whether he was holding up well after what happened and if you guys were going to remain as friends. You went on a whole tangent, trying your best to not sound so desperate and ensure that your response is in no way his fault because it most certainly is not. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s you.

Gunter suddenly tenses up. His fur instinctually puffs out, trying to appear bigger in anticipation of whatever threat he’s detected in the kitchen. Metallic clanking and clashing come from underneath the kitchen island where you store all the pots, pans, and heavy-duty appliances. A loud and harsh crash riles up Gunter enough that he feels the need to growl at whatever is underneath the cupboard.

You quietly move past him and wave your arm, signaling him to move back a bit. He listens to your orders and takes a few slow steps back. You position yourself on the side of the cabinet, fingertips pressing onto the top of the door to prepare to open.

“On my mark,” you whisper to Gunter. “One... Two…Three!”

You yank the door open, and Gunter quickly launches himself towards the potential threat. Though, not a second passes before he’s suddenly skidding across the floor, trying to immediately halt himself. He barely avoids hitting his head against the wood and giving himself a nasty bruise. When you ask him what’s wrong, he sticks his head into the cabinet and pulls out the apparent intruder.

It’s Blossom, a young fawn you rescued from the rose gardens of the Heartslaybul dorm. It was during the preparation of the unbirthday party near the start of the school year that subsequently led to dorm leader Riddle’s overblot. Cater assigned Grimm, Ace, Deuce, and yourself to paint the roses red with him. On top of rose painting duty, Cater was also on the lookout for a supposed ‘rose thief’ who had been snagging some roses from their garden right from under their noses. The scoundrel they were looking for was the fawn before you. From the way he still wobbled on his feet, he wasn’t even a month old when you initially rescued him. He’s lucky you found him when you did. His front leg was caught in a rusted and dull, but full-sized bear trap they set up in case the thief was a wild animal.

“What are you doing in there?” you ask the little troublemaker. “Probably trying to find a snack to chew on, huh?”

Blossom thrashes, trying to break free from Gunter’s hold on his scruff. He of course fails, but not without giving out a distressed scream and trying to plead for forgiveness by giving you his best innocent look. You shake your head before looking up at the small clock hung up on the wall above the refrigerator. It runs on battery so you have to worry about the time no longer being correct when the house lacks power.

It’s 6:15, still way too early. You tell Gunter to let go of Blossom and he does it without argument. Blossom quickly runs up to you, using your own body as a foothold to jump up into your arms. Once you have a hold of him, he bombards your face with little licks and nuzzles of his snout. While this action is normal and you would gladly accept it, you know better than to think it’s not the fawn’s attempts at trying to distract you from his misdeed.

“If you’re looking for the sugared flower petals, you won’t have any luck down there,” you tell him. He immediately stops his loving ministrations and gives out a disappointingly snort before relaxing in your arms.

You chuckle and give him a few apologetic pets on the head as you walk over to one of the upper cupboards and rummage around the various jars, trying to locate the dried venison for Gunter. You also grab a jar placed far in the back with the aforementioned candied rose petals Blossom was most definitely looking for. The moment you open the jar and the heavy scent of sweetness and floral whiffs in the air, Blossom begins to excitedly thrash about in your arms and tries to stick his head into the container. Luckily, the small nubs on his head, his newly budding antlers, stop him from reaching too deep.

You spend the next few minutes feeding your companions their early morning treat. The doorbell rings as you let Blossom lick the last specks of sugar off of your now damp palm. After rinsing your hands off and drying them, you head to the door. You open it and take in the sight of a newly arrived Malleus, dressed in a simple black dress shirt and a pair of loose-fitting linen pants you made for him when he expressed discomfort over his PE uniform the last time he helped you in your garden.

“Good morning!” you greet him as brightly as you can without being too loud.

“A good morning to you as well,” he greets back. Unlike you, who is still groggy and slow, he seems properly energized despite the time. You’re jealous. You’ve been waking up at the crack of dawn for years, at least a decade now, yet your body isn’t used to the early routine. Though compared to the hundreds of years Malleus has on you, you probably won’t show any sign of improvement until your hairs are gray.

“Have you eaten yet?” Malleus asks.

You shake your head. “The electricity is out, so I can’t use the stove or open the fridge too often.”

“Crowley still hasn’t replaced your generator?”

“No,” you frown. “Every time I try to bring it up he either gives an outlandish excuse or just flat out tells me I don’t need a new one.”

His eyebrows pressed together, clearly upset as you are at the headmaster’s failure as your caretaker. You reassure him it’s fine. Everyone in the dorm has been saving money for emergencies like this, and it just so happens that the money you’ll make for selling the produce you collect today will bring in just enough to buy a brand new generator. You’ll be out of electricity for another week, two at most, but have enough firewood and nonperishable foods to last until then.

“You should at least make yourself some coffee,” Malleus urges. “It’s bad to work on an empty stomach. You've said so yourself.”

“I will once Grim and the ghosts wake up,” you reassure. “For now, let’s head to the back and get started. There’s a lot to harvest, so the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish up.”

He’s clearly unhappy at your dismal of his concerns. You know that being so nonchalant towards a fae is rude, but you don’t want to worry him with your own issues. You also have no desire to eat or drink, not this early in the morning at least. If you tell him as much, he’ll probably freak out like he did last time, thinking you were unwell and forcing you to lie in bed for the rest of the day.

Yes, you could have pushed back and argued that you were fine, but it’s very hard to tell him “no” when his intentions are purely out of concern for your well-being. Better to let him hover over you and see that you’re fine than to leave him stewing in his anxieties in silence.

“What have you been growing this season?” Malleus asks as he tugs on the loaned gardening gloves you handed him.

“The usual spread. Some potatoes, cabbage, and carrots. The only fresh additions I planted are some peas and kale. Oh, and broccoli!”

“Did the crops hold well when you were gone?”

“They did thanks to the ghosts. The heat from the fire faeries around the campus also made them easier to protect from the cold,” you explain. “I should probably give them some type of exotic wood as a little thank you gift.”

“You can never go wrong with a bit of mahogany,” Malleus says as he ties back his hair.

You hand him a straw hat, one that you weaved to accommodate for his black horns. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“Your welcome,” he smiles at you before turning back to your garden. “So where shall we start first?”

“I’ll work on picking the cabbage heads. You can cut off the pea pods and we’ll go from there.”

“Very well. I’ll follow your lead.”

It’s 8 a.m. You know this because Ace and Deuce are woken up at this hour by Riddle and one of the first things they do is bombard you with text messages which usually forces you to turn your phone on silent mode. Despite it being late winter, you’re already working up a sweat from the repetitive and demanding motions of picking and carrying around baskets full of vegetables and cleaning them. Malleus is no better, hand continuously raising to his face to wipe away the constant wetness clinging to his forehead. You know he’s not used to manual labor like you are, so you try to bring him a pail of water every so often so he can stay properly hydrated.

“Oh my, you’re already up?”

You turn around to see who’s speaking to you and see one of the ghosts that live with you and Grim in Ramshackle floating towards you.

“Good morning!” you greet him. “Did you need something?”

“No no,” he shakes his head. “I just came to check up on my bees and saw you already hard at work.”

The ghost (Franklin is his name, but you all call him Frankie for short by his insistence), affectionately ruffles your hair with his large white palm. He’s one of the tamer ghosts, but he’s still capable of pulling a prank on you or his fellow housemates now and then. You and he have been cultivating and maintaining a small beehive since October, but he does most of the work and maintenance since he has more experience in the ways of beekeeping than you from when he was alive.

Frankie does a quick once over of the garden, his scanning gaze doubling back at seeing Malleus carefully rinse a couple of heads of broccoli.

“How long has he been here?”

“Since 6:30,” you answer back. “Why?”

“No one gets up that early unless it’s for someone they fancy,” he says rather nonchalantly, but the way he quickly side-eyes you show that he’s clearly talking about you. You try your best to appear unaffected and give a “Is that right?” type of hum, but your efforts are in vain since he just laughs at you.

“If even you know, that means he’s got it bad.”

You say nothing back because you honestly don’t know what to say, or if you should. You’re content to just go back to plucking potatoes out from the ground, but Frankie doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone just yet. He asks you to come with him to the greenhouse where the hive is being kept. The small glass enclosure also houses some flowers and herbs you use for cooking or medicine.

You quickly close the door behind you once you enter, reveling in the warmer air that hits your face. While Frankie lights his cigar and gets a heavy cloud of smoke going (his personal method of keeping the bees calm), he has you open the top and carefully pull out the panels one by one while he checks for any signs of a decaying hive and ensures the queen is alive and healthy. One of your initial worries about beekeeping was getting stung, but Frankie reassured you it’ll only happen if you purposely upset the bees or fail to care for the hives consistently. Now, you gladly let the buzzing honeybees wander around your bare skin.

As Frankie pulls out his cigar from between his lips and taps off the ashes into the respective ashtray, he looks over at you and asks, “Is everything ok?”

You give him a confused expression as you snap the cover for the hive back into place. “I’m fine?”

“You sure? Because if you ask me, you don’t seem like it.”

“I mean, I already have a pile of schoolwork I need to finish and a rundown dorm to take care of. I’m as ok as anyone in my position can be-“

“I’m not talking about any of that,” he interrupts. “I’m talking about you. Forget about Grim and your studies. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” you answer again.

“Are you sure?”

Well, when he puts it that way, even he must be able to see that you’re clearly not doing alright. In fact, you haven’t been alright since you were literally kidnapped and held against your will in the Scarabia dorm. Luckily everything worked out fine for everyone else, but not so much for you. You’ve noticed that your appetite is waning and you wake up multiple times during the night because you don’t feel safe, even in your own room.

Malleus’s confession unfortunately was another wrench being thrown at you. With your hands already so full of this and that, you’re struggling to figure out what needs a priority and which issues you need to either drop entirely or find someone trustworthy to take care of it in your stead. It’s hard to ask people for help when they either find a convenient reason to say no or you feel as if you can’t trust them to do something as simple as watering your plants. The only person you feel you can trust and ask for help is Malleus, and things aren’t exactly as they were between the two of you.

“Talk to me kiddo,” Frankie prods. “What’s been eating at you?”

He lifts his ashtray and makes to snuff out his cigar so he can focus on speaking to you, but you hastily reach over and stop him. You take the smoke from him and bring it up to your lips and puff a few grey clouds. Strangely enough, it tastes rather pleasant, floral, and creamy. You didn’t expect to taste like this because of the way it smells, like soil that was just freshly rained on.

“Sorry,” you hand it back to him. “I haven’t eaten and I’m practically running on fumes.”

“That’s alright,” he says, handing it back to you. “You look like you need it more than me.”

Malleus carefully blows small bits of green fire onto his freezing fingertips, trying to warm them up after being drenched in the icy water from the water pump. He looks over his shoulder, over the stalks of peas, towards you. You’re still in the greenhouse and frantically moving your lips. He can see your eyes are glistening with a fresh layer of… tears? You don’t allow a single drop to get past your lids, wiping them just at the last second before they can pass over the threshold.

He’s only ever seen you cry one other time, when he came to your rescue in Scarabia over the break. He initially thought he frightened you with his aggressive display of magic. Once the dust settled and the blot on Jamil was expunged, no one was more shocked than he was when you boldly ran straight towards him and jumped into his arms. It was all he ever wanted, what his mind dreamed of every single time he closed his eyes. He could no longer brush off the fluttering in his stomach as the mere excitement of making and spending time with his first genuine friend. He was determined to keep his newfound affections for you with him under lock and key, not willing to risk ruining your close-knit friendship with his selfish and potentially one-sided desires.

Your desperate embrace, your toughie exterior lowering to that of a sniveling and shaking human, gave Malleus the impression that the only reason you would display such vulnerability before him was that you reciprocated his sentiments. It gave him a sense of confidence he never knew he was lacking, usually so sure of himself most other times. It made his chest burn with an aching desire to say “to hell with it all” and spill his heart right then and there.

When you extended the invitation you received from Kalim to him, he saw it as his proper opportunity to let his affections be known. He was upset (according to Lilia, more than usual) that he had to take Sebek and Silver along with him for the usual security, but he was determined to get them distracted long enough so he can pull you aside and confess to you without fear of interruption or letting his personal affairs be known to anyone else, at least, for as long as he can keep something so monumental under wraps.

As a prince, he has been taught to look at the long term for each of his decisions, as they carry substantial weight. The long term of pursuing a relationship with you meant having to deal with the prejudices and stigma against humans that still live within the hearts of his people. For once in his life, he didn’t want to think like an heir. As he watches you continue to talk to one of Ramshackle’s ghosts with increasing frustration, he realizes his love utterly blinded him back then. The only long-term his rose-tinted mind could comprehend was of the happy moments he had long conjured in his head becoming a reality.

You didn’t explicitly reject him, however; he knows your behavior well enough to know that once his feelings were laid bare before you, you would not take them into your arms and hand yours over in return. Arms crossed and avoidance of eye contact, you do this when you’re nervous or unsure, sometimes both. He held onto the self-indulgent hope that you’d show him what you look like when flustered. Perhaps you’d stutter?

You did stutter when you spoke up, but they were not the words that he wanted, that he thought he was, going to hear.

“Malleus...I’m so sorry…”

“Ah, you’re here early!”

“It’s just that…I don’t think I can…”

“Hey! Are you listening to me? You better not be ignoring me on purpose!”

“It’s not that I’m telling you I don’t feel the same way, but I can’t exactly say that I do. It’s just... I’ve never- “

“Tsu-no-ta-rou!” Grim’s shrill voice, still a bit riddled with drowsiness, still pierce Malleus’s eardrums and nearly causes him to drop the vegetable in his hand. “Pay attention to me when I’m speaking!”

“Quiet,” he growls at the monster. “If you need your master, they’re in the greenhouse. Though, you might want to come back another time.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

Malleus lifts Grim from the back of his fuzzy robe (you must have made it and gifted it to him during the holidays) and points to you. Frankie has one of his translucent hands on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly now and then while he speaks. You were no longer wiping your face so furiously, allowing your tears to fall and drip off of your jaw and wet your shirt as you listened to your fellow dorm resident.

“What happened? Did you smash all the tomatoes again?” Grim cranes his neck to look at Malleus accusingly.

“No, I didn’t. Those are out of season.”

“Maybe it’s about what happened at Scarabia,” Grim muses. “They haven’t been sleepin’ too good since we came back, y’know?”

Malleus nearly drops the cat. “They haven’t?”

“Nah,” the cat answers, far too casually and dismissively for the fae’s liking.

“This is news to me,” Malleus says, almost whispering to himself. He’s sad, almost offended, at the fact that you haven’t told him you’ve been having some difficulties this whole time. You normally keep him up to date with your personal life. He’s even more offended once he realizes that you’ve been worrying and reassuring him that your friendship with him isn’t ruined after what’s happened.

There’s a small voice in the back of his mind, conniving and twisted, that feeds into his already prevalent belief that your unwillingness to share with him your personal problems anymore is a sign that he hasn’t earned your respect. It’s a ridiculous explanation, but no amount of reassuring from either you or himself is going to stop his Mind from asking such a multi-sided question. Surely, if you thought admirably of him, you’d continue to allow him to bear witness to your moments of weakness and vulnerability. He feels close to you, connected to you in a way he’s never felt. He can be slow and downright miss some references to your jokes and behavior. You always put on a face of understanding, but is he so lost that your patience has worn paper-thin?

Are his feelings for you truly one-sided? Is he still jumping to conclusions too soon and just needs to give you more time and space? Did he just set a course for a ruined friendship or could his hastiness have been a fruitful gamble?

If it’s not iron that kills him, it’s the uncertainty within his heart and mind.

A shrill whistle pierces through the air and Malleus’s eardrums. Grim hisses at the sudden noise and the hairs on his neck stand up. Even Frankie and you can hear and turn your heads towards the source despite still being in the middle of a conversation. The one who whistled was another one of the ghosts who live in Ramshackle. Johnathan is his name, usually shortened to Johnny. His sunken cheekbones make him look unassuming, but you’ve rightly warned Malleus never to turn your back on that one for too long. It’s a miracle that you can keep up with all their shenanigans.

“I got the generator to start up and made some coffee!” Johnny happily announces. “Come get it while it and the dorm are nice and warm!”

“I’ll have a cup or two, so long as there’s a ton of cream and sugar!” Grim says whilst smiling. “And I ain’t skimping this time on the sugar!”

“You better if you know what’s good for you,” you sternly say, now out of the greenhouse along with Frankie. “We’re short on sugar and I’m not stocking up till next weekend.”

“Whaaaat?!” Grim exclaims, his lower jaw almost reaching the floor. “Since when did you become such a cheapskate?”

Everyone, including Malleus, did a sharp intake of breath as soon as the words passed the cat’s mouth. Everyone turns their head towards you, awaiting your reaction to Grim’s comment. This isn’t the first time Grim has gotten lippy with you and, given his nature as a mischievous little monster (a common trait between Ramshackle’s residents, Malleus is now noticing), it won’t be his last no matter how badly you scare or pull a fast one under his clawed feet. Even when your face is all puffy and wet with semi-dried tears, the look of “oh you’re in it now” is still so panic-inducing to everyone, ghosts, and feline alike. To the sole Fae present, he thinks of you as nothing short of adorable and wants nothing more than to wipe your messy face clean.

“Well, if you want more sugar there is one way you can get some more.”

“W-W-What is it?” Grim says, pudgy body shaking and sinking into the comfort and small safety of his fuzzy robe.

You approach him and bend down to grab him by the back of his neck, lifting him so he’s at your eye level before deadpanning, “Get a job, Make some money, and then buy your own.”

Once you set Grim down, he scrambles back into the home with an almost comical amount of fear in his eyes. He screams about how he’s never getting a job even if it kills him and his continued determination to find the small money vault you have hidden around the dorm and spend it all on canned tuna. Johnny, Frankie, and you all give a unison chant of good luck to him before he disappears completely.

“Has he made any progress in his search?” Malleus asks.

“Our money vault isn’t even in the house, so no,” Johnny answers, resulting in you and Frankie cackling and high-five one another.

With the power back on, you announce that it was time for a well-deserved break. It’s your turn to make breakfast and you immediately begin to ask everyone for their preferences. Frankie cuts you off and insists he take over your duties for the day. You normally would protest and insist to whoever was offering to cover for you it wasn’t a problem for you at all. “I enjoy doing [insert chore], so it’s fine!” is your usual go-to reasoning, but not this time.

Malleus notices the way you make to protest as usual, but you quickly back down and just let Frankie go ahead inside to take over for you. In normal Ramshackle fashion, Frankie mentions the cigar you were puffing and waving around earlier and says that you owe him another one, particularly an artisanal one that he’s recently read about in the local newspaper and has been aching to try.

“You got any more highly specific goods you want me to fight tooth and nail for?” you sneer.

“No, just the cigar will do,” he says before turning around to head back inside. Before he can close the door behind him all the way he pulls it back and says, “If you get it sometime this week I’ll buy a new bag of sugar.”

You whisper an impressive string of curses under your breath. Malleus has to restrain the urge to laugh at your colorful vocabulary.

“In that case, I hope your schedule is free tomorrow night. I’ll have it by then.”

Frankie gives you a thumbs up before heading back inside. Once the door behind him clicks shut, you turn towards Malleus and he physically feels his body shift from somewhat relaxed to stiff and proper. You notice this and crinkle your nose a bit, something to do when you find something endearing or as a way of silently giggling. Malleus watches with such an unnecessary amount of focus as you reach up to adjust his straw hat and wipe a bit of dirt off the collar of his shirt.

“I’m sorry for leaving you hanging back there,” you say as you pick off a stray leaf that somehow got tangled in his dark locks. “I’m also sorry you had to see me crying like that. I’ve just been so tired lately.”

There it is again. That damn twisting ache right in his heart.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you. “But if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, is your lack of sleep really all that’s wrong with you?”

You give out a long sigh. “I’m guessing Grim told you a bit of what’s been happening since winter break?”

“He has.”

Your arms cross and the ground suddenly becomes more interesting. You’re unsure, but the way your eyebrows press together is a sign that you’re conflicted. Malleus feels his frostbitten hands accumulate a layer of sweat as you silently mull over your thoughts. Despite the pain and hesitance in his heart, he wills himself to grasp you by the arm and pull you into an awkward hug. He knows it’s not exactly what you might need at the moment, and he was fully preparing you to push him away. He’s relieved when you bring your arms around his torso and reciprocate the embrace.

“I’m tired,” you sigh

“You haven’t been resting well, so it makes sense.“

“No,” you shake your head, the tips of your hair tickling Malleus’s neck. “It’s not just a lack of sleep that’s making me feel exhausted. After what happened with Scarabia, especially with Jamil, I don’t feel safe anymore.”

“Are you afraid?” he asks. To think of you as fearful is an entirely foreign concept for him when you’ve only ever been confident and certain of yourself since the first time he met you.

“Yeah, I am,” you admit without skipping a beat.

Considering what you told him, Malleus thinks your fear is justified. You have no defense against magic…

He fills a strain in his neck as his entire body suddenly seized up. You notice this and pull away to ask him what’s wrong. “Nothing,” he quickly dismisses, but you don’t let him go silent on you.

“If,” he hesitates. He’s thinking too rashly already, yet he’s still so compelled to act upon his thoughts. “Should anyone attempt to do you harm, I swear upon my name and title that I will do whatever it takes to protect you.”

He means every word, but you seem to take it far too casually than he would have liked. You press your face against his shoulder and laugh against his skin, your breath bringing him some much-needed temporary warmth. Such an ordinary action, yet it causes another pang within his heart. It settles next to the one that arose before, but he bites his tongue and endures it for your sake.

“Maybe you could play that electric violin for whoever comes after me,” you jest.

As embarrassing as it is to hear that you know about that incident (he’ll have to reprimand Lilia for telling you about that), he can’t help but laugh along with you. If making a bunch of teenagers’ foam from the mouth amuses you, then so be it.

“Thank you for offering to get your hands dirty for my sake,” you say. “That’s one thing I respect about you. You take care of the people you care for.”

His body goes still once again. “Is that right?” is all his mind can wrap around and say.

“Yes, oh Wise and Great Lord Malleus. I do, in fact, respect you.”

He cringes at that title. It’s something he has heard Sebek try to enforce you to refer to Malleus as, which you never do purely so you can get a rise out of his loyal guard. Before he can ask you to never call him that again, a bunch of howl’s ring out, and the two of you pull away from each other. The wolf’s howling is usually a sign that food is ready, which you seem rather eager to get to as you interlock your arm with his and drag him inside with you.

He looks back at his basket of still dirty vegetables. “What about-“

“It’s alright! I’m not throwing a fuss over a few broccoli heads!”

Crispy bacon, over easy and scrambled eggs, and a mountain of sizzling hash browns. Once everyone grabs a plate and sits down at the dining table (Malleus sticks close to you, hoping he can sit next to you), they grab whatever pieces of food they want in whichever quantity. Somewhere in the next room over, a faint melody plays through the speaker of an old record player. The vintage singer has a rather cheeky attitude in her vocals but with the accompanying music, it all comes together harmoniously. It’s perfect for a rather excitable breakfast.

It seems you never told the ghosts too many details about your sudden disappearance during the break. You downplay the true extent of your dilemma as you willingly giving your time and effort to help a desperate Jamil figure out what was causing his normally kind dorm leader to have a sudden personality switch. The ghosts listen carefully, and as you gradually get to the big climax that is Jamil’s betrayal and overblot, followed by Malleus’s sudden appearance, they’re all practically hanging on the edge of their seats. Your tale even intrigues the wolves and Blossom. They gather and settle near the legs of your chair, ushering you to continue your story by whining and scratching your ankle.

You don’t exaggerate Malleus’s part in your tale, something he greatly appreciates. You tell them how things happened just as they did: Grey clouds suddenly covering the sky and the occasional peak of lightning through their fogginess. Just when it seems like Jamil has the upper hand and is going to put an end to Grim and you, as well as Jade, Floyd, and Azul of Octavinelle, Malleus appears out of nowhere and effortlessly zaps the blot right out of the vice dorm leader of Scarabia.

“That deserves some praise,” Benjamin, the third of your ghostly residents, raises his half-filled mug of coffee and extends it towards the middle of the table. “To Malleus!”

Everyone, including you and Grim, raises your glasses and repeats his chant. “To Malleus!”

“To me, I suppose,” Malleus half-heartedly raises his own cup. “It really wasn’t much effort, or any praise really.”

He catches you looking at him in his peripheral and he feels a lump form in this throat that he immediately swallows. “I simply did what I believed you would have done for me if our positions were reversed.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” you say after swallowing a hefty mouthful of scrambled eggs. “But it’s nice knowing you have my back. It makes me feel safe.”

“Safe?” Malleus is surprised to hear you say this, considering what you told him earlier. “I make you feel safe?”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. “Y-Yeah. I guess you do.”

“You guess?”

“You do,” you say, more definitively this time. “I promise. If you didn’t you’d know.”

He can’t help but laugh. “I can only imagine what interacting with you would be like then.”

“Probably not that good, or not at all. I steer clear of people I don’t particularly like.”

His eyebrows raise in intrigue as he sips his now lukewarm coffee. “What makes you dislike someone?”

“I dislike people I have no respect for,” you say casually. Malleus thinks you might be joking or poking fun at him, but how you take the time to look up to him while you busy yourself with feeding Gunter a few bits of bacon clearly means you’re trying to tell him something secretly. It’s definitely something along the lines of, “I don’t know where this mindset of me not respecting you came from, but it’s a load of bullshit and you need to get that thought out of your head.”

Even within his head, your language is still so vulgar and blunt. Only you would talk to him in such a rude manner.

But he respects that part about you.

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 1]

this idea was stolen from @iam93percentstardust cuz i just,,,thought that this year was absolute shit and it would be nice to make a fic rec list of fics from this year that helped me through it. this will be over a range of fandoms and ships, but all fics were written this year. 

fics are ordered by the month they were published. ive tried to keep to five fics per month, but this is not obviously all the fics ive read that month - i just didn’t want to make this insanely long. 

im releasing the first half of this on the 1st of December, and the second half on the 1st of January 2021 - because otherwise it would just get so long (and also so i will actually have fics for December)

happy reading!! hopefully you find fics on this you haven’t read yet

***

January

The cat is mighty dignified (until the dog comes by): @five-wow

Steve and Danny find them on the pillow in the corner of the dining area, where Eddie is on his side, ass half on the floor because the pillow is more cat-sized than lab-sized, and Pickles is nestled between Eddie’s front legs, essentially being spooned and looking very I-got-the-cream about it. Pickles’ head is tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s head slots perfectly on top of Mr. Pickles’, like a furry jigsaw puzzle.

“They’re cuddling,” Steve points out, unnecessarily.

Or: There is a love story unfolding under the McGarrett roof.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America: @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.

Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

The Best Laid Plans (Of Mice and Men): @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

Fourteen Million to One: @tunastorks

Six months after Thanos, six months after Tony’s death, six months after Steve returns to his own timeline, Tony Stark turns up on their doorstep.

Brewed Awakening: @iam93percentstardust

Two years after he comes out of the ice, Steve is drifting through life. On his teammate's recommendation, he decides to go back to school where he meets the grandson of an old friend. He finds happiness with Tony but Steve won't be in Boston forever and someone is out to hurt the Starks. Will Steve and Tony be able to reach their happily ever after?

February

the young, the reckless and the foolish: @bruciewayne

In most universes, they don't know each other, not in the slightest, or they hate each other, in a way that's perfectly logical for anyone who were to find themselves in a similar situation.

In this one, they've known each other since they were four years old and naively idealistic.

This is them over the years, against the odds.

a giant sign: @areiton

“Think you can get him to open the weapons division up again?” his CO asks, his voice hungry and Rhodey laughs because this--

“No. Tony hung up his weapons.”

“That’s not what the suit says,” his CO objects, and Rhodey shrugs.

Tony has always had rules, rules he expects the entire world to live by.

And then there was Rhodey, slipping under them.

my heart is driftwood, floating down your coast: @nethandrake

Tonight, there’s a stranger in his backseat. That’s not unusual.

He’s also sad. That’s not unusual either.

What is unusual is that the stranger is silent.

(One night, a stranger enters Steve's taxi. Nothing is the same again.)

Just A Cold: @/delighted 

There’s a new text waiting for him. It’s from Steve of course, and it’s vaguely threatening as most messages from Steve are these days. Still Danny ignores it, and now he’s really playing with fire. Maybe it’ll burn the cold out of him.

Or, Danny’s sick, and Steve can’t stay away. The usual comfort fluff. With a little cameo from a gently meddling Grace.

An Unexpected Guide: @/Rachel500

Danny Williams has hidden his Guide status to keep being a detective, but his time of hiding is up when he unexpectedly finds his Sentinel, Steve McGarrett in the midst of a tragedy.

March

Why don’t we (Collide the spaces that divide us): @five-wow

When they finally catch sight of each other again through the milling crowds, they’re both a little worse for wear. Danny’s left side is covered in glitter and every time he brushes a hand over his hair, more blue and purple confetti rains down. Steve is- Well, Steve is randomly shirtless, which is all things considered not excessively remarkable, but he’s also covered in smudges of colorful paint and has a very nicely printed bloodred lipstick kiss mark on his cheek.

“What did you do?” Danny asks, because it looks like Steve had a lot more fun than he did.

Or: Steve and Danny accidentally end up in the middle of something entirely new.

A Little Unsteady: @finduilasclln 

Written for the Tumblr prompt meme : "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Tony lashes out at Bucky for eating his dessert. Only, it really isn't about the dessert.

a national treasure: @starklysteve

Steve isn't looking for an apple and Tony decides his passion is to inspire young souls. -x- OR: the AU where Tony is a Youtuber and Steve is Captain America and somehow they still save the world together.

April

cycle through: @ambivalentmarvel

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Stark disappeared from his family home a month after the tragic deaths of his parents, Howard and Maria Stark, leaving a billion-dollar tech conglomerate without an heir and the world wondering what happened.

Twenty-three years ago, HYDRA gained another super soldier.

Ten years ago, Peter Parker’s parents died in what is ruled as a home invasion gone wrong but he knows was murder, plain and simple, because he spoke to the killer.

And in the present, Project Insight fails, and the Iron Soldier pays the price.

FOREVER-LOVE YOU-I: @/Eudoxia

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Especially for Tony's soulmate.

--

Companion piece to my fic Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended. This is Steve's POV, with a few extra scenes, as a treat.

(Edit: Sorry if you guys get multiple notifications for this. I just realized (about two hours after posting it) that I fucked up the grammar in the title and I HAD to fix it. YOLO, I guess.)

come build a home out of me: @maguna-stxrk

Steve clears his throat.

“What if I went with you?” he asks nonchalantly, like his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his ribcage.

Tony blinks a few times, looking at Steve, his mouth ajar. “As a— As my date?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, feeling a little breathless.

“You don’t mind?” Tony furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t. In fact, you can just tell them I’m your boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll back off, wouldn’t they?”

What.

“I— Huh?” Tony stares at him, brown eyes blown wide open.

What. What. What.

“Huh? Uh, I mean— You know, that way people will see that you have definitely moved on. Monica will see that you have moved on. Right?” Steve smiles, hoping that it masks his inner panic, because what?

Steve Rogers, what have you done?

i don’t have a choice (but i’d still choose you): @nethandrake

There’s a name inked onto his chest, a name written in an all-too familiar scrawl. And it’s— It’s—

Steve doesn’t realize his body is quaking until he’s tracing the tattoo with a shaky finger.

Because of course that is the name etched into the skin. Like a brand, a reminder for everything he has done. An appropriate retribution.

Anthony Edward Stark.

(When Thanos snaps half of the universe away, he unknowingly leaves the other half with soulmarks.)

ua haʻalele ʻoe iaʻu (a ua hoʻomālamalama ʻoe iaʻu): @just-fandomthings

"The truth is, I was shot in the chest and nearly died, and not even three days after I was released from the hospital, you up and left-- and of those two, I'm not sure which one hurt me worse!"

(Coda to 10x22 because come on, we all need a better ending than the one given to us.)

Title loosely translates to: "You left me in the dark (you lit me up)" -- inspired by the brilliant song "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur

May

A Piece Of The Past: @hddnone

It had been so many years since Bucky had gone undercover in the Stark family's mob, he thought he'd gotten away clean.

Then Tony Stark slid into the seat across from him at his breakfast diner, and Bucky's boss has a new case for him.

the privilege of loving you: @starklysteve

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

It’s a desperate plea, half-shouted and half-whispered, Steve’s voice cracking at the end. Tony stops in his tracks, halfway to the stairs. He doesn’t dare to turn back, and he really doesn’t want to fight, or to leave, to spend the last month of his life away from his husband and their son. But Steve can’t know, can he?

-x-

Or: Tony has palladium poisoning, but he doesn't tell Steve and Peter

your pillow feels so soft now (but still you must advance): @firebrands

When Bruce is 13, he decides to go to boarding school. It's an opportunity for him to learn about other people, and how to interact with them.

Bruce has the misfortune of meeting Tony Stark upon his arrival in Roxbury. Bruce is moving into his room, and Tony opens the door of his room to watch. He looks a bit younger than Bruce, hair wild and eyes bright. Bruce has never seen a boy like him before—handsome and confident.

Bruce doesn’t like it.

IMPORTANT: This fic has them meeting at 14, then progresses slowly until they’re 17. Includes underage drinking and kissing.

This is set before Bruce becomes Batman and Tony becomes Iron Man and I have no explanation as to how or why they just DO Canonically, Bruce is 17 when he finishes school and goes around the world to train, so we're sticking with that

The Real MVP: @sword-and-stars (part of a series)

[“I have saved this Tuesday!” Sokka announces, rattling the bag upon reentry.

Zuko doesn’t even look up from his phone as he deadpans, “It’s Thursday.”

Okay, so Sokka is still having trouble getting his days right without checking. At least he’s gone back to sleeping at night! Going to bed at night is way easier when you have a cute, cuddly boyfriend who starts falling asleep around eleven o’clock. It also helps that he and Zuko are on solid gold butt-touching terms.

It’s been a while since Sokka has been on butt-touching terms with someone and it’s amazing.]

Or,

Sokka knows a guy, gets laid, and introduces Zuko to the merits of an afternoon delight.

When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it): @riotwritesthings

There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch.

And one tiny little bed.

June

Nice Fingers: @anthonyed

A single compliment given by Tony stirs Bucky restless until he caves in and asks him out on a date.

With Steve’s help of course (whether he likes it or not).

The Darkest Touch: @starkrogerrs

This is the story of how Steve finds that it has been ordained that he is to marry a monster he cannot resist aka the God of Love himself, Tony.

It's Cupid x Psyche retold, but with thrice the amount of porn.

The Night Shift:  @weethreequarter

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Wind Beneath My Wings: @iam93percentstardust

Sam first meets Tony Stark in 2005 when he joins the EXO-7 Falcon program.

In jest: @/apathyinreverie

“No, babe,” Danny shakes his head with a grin. “If the apocalypse were to go down while I’m elsewhere for some godforsaken reason, then you stay put and I’m coming to wherever you are.” His grin widens. “And I expect you to have cleared any aliens or zombies or whatever else might be messing with us off the island and to have set up a nice, comfortable military dictatorship for us to rule over by the time I get back.”

It’s a joke.

Of course it’s a joke.

Until it isn’t.

(A the-day-after-tomorrow-style apocalypse AU, where the world decides to end right when Danny is visiting one of the other islands with Grace. Because, of course, it does.)

[thrillridesz]

the replacement game ▫ haknyeon

➳ pairing: boyfriend!haknyeon x gender neutral reader ➳ genre: fluff, slight angst ➳ warnings/rating: PG ➳ word count: 2.6k ➳ requested?: yes

a/n: i originally got this request as a timestamp but i changed it to a oneshot instead because they went on longer than i initially envisioned! also unedited (for now). definitely not my best work since i wrote this in one night >< so please excuse the slipshod quality.

“Hey, Hak!”

Haknyeon barely had time to remove his shoes as he stepped into the apartment the both of you shared along with your husky, Frosty. As Frosty leaped onto his hind legs and pawed excitedly at his sweater, you stood smiling with your hands behind your back. There was a sense of anticipation that simply radiated off you and the smile told him that something was up. Ruffling Frosty’s head affectionately, he scrunched up his nose.

“Hey… Y/n. What’s up?”

At his question, your smile only grew brighter. There was a glint in your eyes as you replied, “Guess what I bought today?”

As he slipped out of his shoes, Haknyeon raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“Hm… A new book?”

“Nice try, but nope!” You shook your head and he chuckled.

“What could it possibly be if not a new book? That’s what you always ever buy.”

“Here it is!”

Haknyeon lifted his head as you brandished a small potted plant in your hands. It was a tiny mere seedling with only a couple of miniature green leaves sprouting from a single stem planted in a bed of dark soil in a brown ceramic pot. As you held onto it, you couldn’t stop beaming.

“Isn’t it pretty? It’s so cute too, don’t you think?” You said, admiring the tiny plant in your hands.

Haknyeon’s smile dropped as he looked at it, feeling a heavy sense of dread in his heart. Not again…

“Babe, don’t you remember the last time we bought a plant?” He asked hesitantly, still holding onto Frosty who was now licking his hand.

You pouted, feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks and face as guilt set in. Your eyes drifted to the window by the living room and the tiny trinkets that laid out on the window sill, chewing your lower lip as you stared at the oddly empty spot at the corner.

“I really liked it though…” You trailed off, your finger grazing over one of the tiny leaves on the plant and Haknyeon’s expression softened.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, of course we can have a plant but do you know what it takes to take care of one?” He placed his hand warmly over yours as the two of you plopped down onto the couch, as if afraid that you would accidentally drop the plant. Fortunately, you were too preoccupied with the plant in your hands and your own thoughts to notice the meaning behind what he did.

“I’ve been reading up, Hak. I really wanna try caring for a plant again, you know how much I love plants.” You said sadly.

“I don’t doubt that,” He replied reassuringly though there was an uncomfortable look in his expression and if you were just a little more observant, you would have noticed the stiffness in his tone. There was a weird mood in the room, something both of you sensed except for Frosty, who wagged his tail, oblivious to what was going on as he settled himself against Haknyeon’s leg, making himself cozy. “It’s just that that was what you said the last time too. We didn’t even last a month.” He continued, reminiscing the old sunflower plant the both of you used to take care of or rather tried to take care of.

Needless to say, caring for the sunflower plant had been a disaster. As someone who knew next to nothing about caring for a plant, you either gave it too much water or too little water or sometimes even completely forgetting to give water at all. Even after reading up on gardening, there was once when you had purchased the wrong minerals and very nearly killed the sunflower plant but thankfully, Haknyeon had been there to help. There were also many instances when you simply forgot to close the window and the afternoon breeze would send the plant tottering dangerously over the edge. Sometimes when Frosty was feeling a little playful, it was also in danger of simply being knocked down.

Suddenly, you set the potted plant down on to the coffee table with a loud thud, startling him and in turn causing Frosty to scramble onto his legs, a curious look on that furry face. With a light whimper, he hid his snout under Haknyeon’s hand who held onto him as he stared at you in surprise.

“I’ll do it right this time. Just watch!” You declared, determination in your eyes as you placed your hands on your hips. It was almost comical to see you like this, talking to no one in particular with such a domineering stance towards a plant of all things. Haknyeon would have laughed out loud but instead, he could only sighed internally.

“Here we go again…”

“Did you water it?”

It had been about a couple of days since your new little house plant had joined the family and you smiled proudly as you turned to Haknyeon who stood by the door.

“Yup! Thought I would forget?”

Haknyeon shrugged nonchalantly, shooting you a doubtful smile which you didn’t quite catch.

“Just thought I’d ask.”

As he shuffled into the living room, Haknyeon couldn’t help but keep staring at the plant from a distance. On one hand, there was this inner voice telling him to check on it but on another, we wanted to trust that you knew what you were doing and leave you to your own devices. Yet the temptation was too strong and he relented.

Staring into the pot, he tried not to sigh out loud. There was way too much water in the soil, almost diluting the minerals added and very nearly drowning the tiny seedling. From the looks of it, it was already halfway there. Somehow, the leaves looked almost limp and its colour was a light, sickly green rather than a healthy, dark, vibrant emerald colour.

He knew that this would happen but in his heart, he had wished it wouldn’t. Knowing how much effort you do actually put into reading up on how to care for small plants, he had hoped you’d succeed for once. After all, Haknyeon hated to see you upset. Whenever he saw you in a sad mood, it felt like his heart was falling and it would bug him for the longest time. He cared too deeply to see you upset.

Fiddling with his fingers, he pondered over what to do. It had been only a few days since you got this plant and it would absolutely devastate you to know that you had failed once again. The thought of you being down was something Haknyeon abhorred and taking a deep breath, he called out.

“Hey, y/n! I’ll be going down to the grocer’s. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine! I have work to do!” You called back out from your room.

“Do you…” He stared at the plant. “Do you mind if I take the plant with me?”

At that, you poked your head out from the room, frowning.

“And why on earth would you do that?”

Shit. He was not forward thinking with this.

“I, um…”

From across the street, he noticed the apartment in the block had a birdcage with a large colourful parrot in it. It flew around the tiny confined space, troubling its terrified owner who was timidly tossing it some nuts from afar, clearly afraid of his own pet.

Without a second thought, he said, “I’m going to buy a mini terrarium for the plant! I wanted to take it just to y’know… Figure out how big of a terrarium would fit it.”

“Really? What sort?” You asked, suddenly interested.

“Um… What do you think would be good?”

“Hm…” Tapping your chin thoughtfully, you turned to peer over at the plant and Haknyeon couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you didn’t already notice that the plant was probably already dead. “A glass sphere?”

“A glass sphere?”

“Yeah! I’ve seen a lot of those on sites like Pinterest and Tumblr. We could go for that!” You grinned.

Rest in peace, wallet.

“Alright.” Haknyeon said, forcing a smile which you returned and shot him a thumbs up before disappearing into your room. “Thank you!”

“You’re… Welcome.” He mumbled softly more to himself than to you as Frosty poked his snout against his leg, clearly in another of his playful moods but Haknyeon had no mood to play. He already didn’t have a lot of money since it had been some time since he had received his pay and payday wouldn’t come round for another week. Whipping out his wallet, he felt his heart clench painfully at the lack of bills and pennies. Looks like he would have to go hungry for lunch for the next week. He swallowed thickly, looking down at Frosty who was now quiet, having sensed that something was wrong.

“Nope, it’s just my wallet. I’ll be fine, Frosty.” He said, rubbing the husky’s head gently.

If it meant that you would be happy, he was willing to do anything… even if it meant sacrificing his wallet.

Over the next few weeks, it felt like a game of how quickly he was able to find a replacement whenever you slipped up or when something happened without your knowledge. It was the replacement game. The second time he had to find a replacement happened when Frosty accidentally went a little overboard and nudged the plant out an open window. The loud crash on the streets below earned Haknyeon a severe warning and whack on the head by the old lady who had very nearly missed it. Thankfully, you weren’t home so he had time to actually find a nice one to buy instead of hastily picking one. The third time it happened, you had simply forgotten to water it and though Haknyeon himself had tried to revive the plant, it was already well and truly gone.

All this while, his wallet definitely wasn’t having a lot of fun, much less himself. Many times, he considered simply telling you the truth but whenever he saw the look of joy and pride on your face, he just couldn’t bring himself to. It seemed as if Frosty got the message along the way when he would distract you and allow Haknyeon time to salvage what needed to be salvaged. Until one day…

“Hey babe, I’m home!” Haknyeon called out, dropping his bag onto the kitchen countertop and unbuttoning a few of the shirt buttons for more air. Dang, that shirt was stuffy. Why couldn’t workplaces just allow people to wear whatever they wanted? It would make life so much easier and more comfortable. As he poured himself a glass of water, he wondered briefly if he should bring it up as a suggestion to management. It could boost productivity.

Downing the glass like a man starved of water, he didn’t even realise it when Frosty tugged at his shirt with his teeth, the look in his eyes devoid of the usual mirth and playfulness.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Haknyeon knelt down, rubbing his cheeks. “You hungry? Is that it?”

“He’s not hungry.”

Turning around, Haknyeon shot you a smile but you did nothing to return it.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were home!”

“The computer system at work shut down unexpectedly so we got to go home early.” You replied curtly, the look on your face grim. This time, the dry tone of your voice caught his attention. He frowned, confused.

“Are you okay?”

Subconsciously, Haknyeon casted the window a sideway glance and almost heaved an audible sigh of relief at the still intact plant and terrarium. Big mistake.

“If you’re wondering, the answer is no. No, I haven’t killed the plant for the 4th time.” You said. Haknyeon stiffened, the expression on his face remaining unchanged but you could tell that he was gripping hard at the kitchen countertop from the looks of his white knuckles. Clenching his jaw, he took a deep breath.

“How did you know?” He asked quietly.

The look you gave him was so full of disappointment as you drew out the numerous receipts you had in your hand.

“They were all in your drawer. I found them while trying to find a pen.”

Before he could even say anything, you continued.

“Why would you do this?”

It felt like someone had stuck a knife in his heart and twisted the blade when he saw the look on your face. There was just so much sadness, confusion and hurt in your eyes that it felt painful to even look into them. He wanted so badly to kick himself right there and then. It turns out all this hiding and deception had only made things so much worse. He had not only lied to you but he also gave you the false sense of happiness and pride and even displayed the extent of his distrust in you by not even believing in you in the first place. Haknyeon never gave you a chance to even learn. Instead of helping you, he had chosen entirely to keep you in the dark about what was really happening.

“Do you not trust me? I get that I may not have the greenest thumbs but instead of hiding this… Replacement game you’re playing from me, you could’ve helped me, Hak. You could’ve simply reminded me or told me.” Your voice wobbled slightly at the end. “I saw your bank statement too. Why are you doing this when you clearly lack the funds to? Is it so difficult to tell me things these days?”

There was a moment of silence when neither of you said or did anything, not even Frosty who was usually so hyperactive.

“Tell me, Hak. Please.”

“I didn’t want you to get upset.” He said finally, keeping his head down.

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting to hear that from him.

“What…?”

“I couldn’t bear to see you upset, y/n. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. I knew you studied really hard and did so much work to make sure you did everything right so I… I don’t know. I didn’t want to see you upset.” Haknyeon said, his voice firm but getting shakier by the second. “I love you too much to see you upset.”

“Oh, Hakkie.” You whispered, coming by his side and holding his hand in yours.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I should have trusted you more. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I hope you don’t hold it against me.” He said softly, not lifting his gaze. “I would have given everything I could to make sure that you didn’t feel sad when things don’t work out. Nothing matters more to me than seeing you happy, y/n but I see now that all I’ve done is the opposite.”

Hearing him say all of that was all very shocking and so deeply heart wrenching. How could someone be so… Good? The anger in you had all but dissipated and you reached out and slipped your hands up to his face, bringing him up to meet your eyes. Those dark eyes of his were glassy with tears that threatened to fall and you wanted so desperately to make it all better.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Hak. I didn’t realise that at all, I- I...” You stammered, unable to get your words out from all the emotions that bubble up in you. “Please don’t.”

Before he could react, you had wrapped him in a tight hug, your face buried in his shoulder. At first, he simply stood unmoving before he slowly hugged you back, melting into the hug.

“Let’s just be real with each other from now on.” You whispered.

“... Okay.” He replied softly.

“No hiding, no lies… Just trust and honesty.”

“Okay.” He simply said without hesitation.

It felt like ages before the two of you parted and as you looked him in the eyes, a warm feeling began to spread across your chest. It is getting warmer and cosier by the second and as he squeezed your hand lightly in his, you felt a jolt of electricity run through you and a smile tugged at your lips which only grew wider as he did too. This must be what true love feels like. 

[hitsuackerman]

Why Did It Have to be Him? pt. 1 (Aizawa x Reader)

a/n: okay ya’ll this is purely self indulgent because i have been simping so hard for this man lately. anddd the fact that my guilty pleasure for Aizawa is student-teacher scenarios huhuhu (splashes holy water on self) that being said... i hope ya’ll like this :)

Warnings: Student-Teacher relationship, Age-gap, Cursing

Link to Part 2

Masterlist for other fics :) here

Today was like any other day.

You woke up and did everything that needed to be done. With how routine it had become, things were quite a blur. One moment you were changing in your house and the next you were now face to face with your fellow class 1-A people.

With the minutes dragging by, you could feel your heart beat faster. Fingers growing numb at the sensation of seeing him again. Heat building up between your thighs at the mere thought of his presence.

Despite the volume of the class rep's voice telling you all to sit down, your ears were more focused on the classroom doors. Any moment now, he would enter and the silent and devouring longing would happen once again. Your teeth instantly chewed on your inner cheek when the doors slid open.

"Okay, class." He began. "Change into your PE uniforms. We will work on your quirks today."

One by one, your classmates left the room. His eyes followed their movements one by one. Landing on you, he could feel his heart clench and his mind working overdrive. Both your eyes met yet no one dared to break the contact.

"Hurry up and catch up with the others." He instructed. "Tell them to be ready in 20 minutes."

"Yes, Aizawa-sensei."

He knew that look too well. The way your eyes would linger on his face and slowly make their way down. He could see how your pupils were dilated with the small distance between the two of you. How many weeks had this been going on? Placing a hand on your back, barely touching the fabric of your uniform, he led you out of the room and went to the teacher’s lounge.

‘Damn this.’ You cursed yourself. What started off as admiration came spiraling down after the Summer Camp incident. How did it end up like this?

Yes, you knew who he was. The moment he entered the classroom on the first day of class, the bandages and the dead look on his face was all too familiar. How could you not recognize one of your favorite heroes? Sure there was Vlad and All Might, but there was just something about your homeroom teacher that made you want to tug on the line of student and teacher.

This was just a crush, right? The way you can’t stop staring at him, how you’d want to run your fingers through his messy hair, or even just trace his jaw line with the tip of your finger. Just when you thought it would all stop, that’s when things went out of control.

You were currently aiding Recovery Girl in cleaning up the medical cabinets. She had just finished healing a rather nasty bruise on your thigh due to your clumsiness. Yes, there was still a patch of black and purple, but you opted not to have it bandaged since there wasn’t a need for it. As a thank you, you offered to help her finish the easier tasks.

When you were about to leave the school, you bumped into a skinny blonde figure.

“Young (L/N).” All Might called out to you. “I need your help. I cannot seem to find Midnight or Present Mic anywhere.”

Willing to help the number one hero, you followed him towards a lounge with Principal Nezu and Vlad all dressed up. However, all them seemed to be focused on the curled up yellow sleeping bag nested on the floor.

“We truly apologize for this inconvenience but we need your help.” Principle Nezu began. His small furry paws pointing towards your homeroom teacher. “Is there any way you can persuade him to leave his cocoon and change into something more formal? You may use your quirk if needed.”

“I’m not sure if he’ll listen, but I’ll try.”

Slowly walking towards the yellow caterpillar, you went on your knees and poked his back. Your fingertip felt just how soft the material was. No wonder he could sleep anywhere in this thing. Poking a little harder, there was still no response.

“Sensei…” You warned him. “If you won’t get up, I’ll have no option but to use my quirk on you.”

“You do realize you shouldn’t have told me that?” He turned around and faced you. His hair even messier than before. Eyes red from sleepless nights and the stubble thickening. “That wasn’t a smart thing to do.”

“But it did get your attention.” You replied. Tucking in a strand of hair behind your ear. A small smile on your face for winning his attention.

“They stooped that low to call a student…” Aizawa said as he finally unzipped himself from his yellow sanctuary. Relieved sighs could be heard around the room. Standing up, he took the suit and went to the comfort room to change.

Sitting down and basking in the awkwardness of the situation, your eyes darted to the screen. Reporters were now waiting for the two homeroom teachers to appear for an interview. Gritting your teeth, your mind wandered to Kirishima and the others who were now trying to rescue Bakugo.

Returning back to the room, Aizawa was now suited up and immediately your mind went boom. His hero costume did a fine job in hiding all those muscles. Absentmindedly swallowing your saliva, your eyes savored the view of a clean Eraserhead. Your theory had been proven right, his binding gear really covered his broad shoulders.

“Do me a favor and hold this.” He asked. Handing over his gear.

Not expecting it to be a little heavy, your eyes widened and your thoughts ticked. Every single minute, he had to carry this around. No wonder he’s got a good back. Feeling the sofa dip, you glanced at your homeroom teacher.

‘My god. His side profile. Holy shit he looks so handsome.’

Bringing up his hands, he began to rub his face. A small grunt escaping his mouth. Rummaging his pocket, he took out his eye drops and finally gave himself the relief he needed.

“It’s not good to stare, (L/N).” He commented as he returned the eye drops in his pocket.

‘Shit. I stared for too long. Crapcrapcrapcrap.’ Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. Thankfully, the other people in the room were too busy staring at the monitor. Say something, you told yourself.

“I, uh, I was just thinking that maybe you should lose the stubble.” (Y/N). HOW IDIOTIC COULD YOU BE? “I-I-I don’t mean it that way. It’s just that it would make an impression to the reporters that the school is really taking things seriously…”

Aizawa just stared at you. He knew you were chewing your inner cheeks. The way you held on to his binding gear tightened. But the slight tint of pink on your cheeks made him wonder. You were still feeling things after all this time? Maybe he might take your suggestion. Of course for the media, not for his student.

Excusing himself, you heard the doors open and close once more. Mentally, you slapped yourself. You could smell it now, detention and maybe a bit of scolding. Your shoulders fell and you began to fidget with the cloth.

“Okay, everyone, remember what we talked about.” Principal Nezu began. His small feet tapping on the ground. This was the first time you saw him all serious. Facing you, his eyes scanned the room and back at your sitting body. “Where’s Aizawa?”

“He probably forgot something.” You replied.

“Tell him to immediately go into the press room once he arrives.” Upon receiving your confirmation, both he and Vlad exited the room. When they opened the doors, you heard the cameras flashing and the murmurs of all the reporters.

“Are you alright?” You asked All Might. The look on his face seemed rather disturbed. His phone trembling in his fist.

“If you’ll excuse me, young (L/N). I have to attend to this urgent matter.” The tone of his voice laced with anger and concern. And just like that, you were left alone in the lounge. The sound of the monitor bouncing on the walls to cover up the silence.

You jumped a bit when the doors opened once more. Strands of Aizawa’s binding gear fell to the floor. Quickly picking and putting them back into place, your eyes landed to your homeroom teacher once more. For a moment, your breath hitched.

Even though his hair was messy, you saw that he was now clean shaven.

‘Holy mother of gods. That is a sin, right there.’ Not wanting to linger on him, you focused on the screen and tried to cancel the steps of his footsteps going towards you.

“Is this okay?” His voice was tired and dead. Yet there was a tiny bit of curiosity in them.

“Y-yeah…” Stare at anything but his face. Save your pride and respect the line. You repeat to yourself. “They, uh, Principal Nezu said you should head over to the interview room when you arrive. And now that you're here, you should go to them.”

“Thank you.” That’s all he said. 

Straightening his tie, you couldn’t help but look at him. When he finished, he looked at you. Almost as if he were asking if it was straight enough. Giving him a thumbs up, you furrowed your brows when he took something out from his other pocket.

‘Does he have two eye drops or something?’ You wondered.

Taking a hair tie out, he fingered through his hair and tied it in a half up half down.

‘OH MY GOD. HOW CAN HE HIDE SUCH A FACE?! HOLY SHIT.’ If anything, you were sure your jaw had dropped and it was all to clear that you were thirsting for your teacher right there. Being hypnotized by his kept look, you failed to realize that he had inched his way closer and closer till he was only a step away from you.

“(L/N).” His voice was low and husky. Authoritative but restrained. “You know I do not tolerate any of this.”

You snapped yourself back to reality. Bowing your head with embarrassment, you took a step back to give him space.

“I apologize, sensei. I didn’t mean to.” The beating of your heart echoed to your ears. You were sure he could hear them at that distance. “It won’t happen again.”

With that, he left you alone and proceeded to join the interview.

Letting go of the breath you had been holding, you clenched your chest and flopped to the sofa. Breathing in and out, you tried to calm yourself and the situation that had just unfolded. Biting your lower lip, you held onto the fabric and let a few tears slip from your eyes. Expelled. You were sure of it.

With the interview over and the gut wrenching fight of All Might versus All For One, you decided to drop everything and go home. There were just too many happenings for a single day. The comfort of your own bed and a tub of ice cream was all you wanted at this point.

“Excuse me, but I really should get going.” You informed the group.

“Take a taxi.” Principal Nezu offered. “You may drop by my office tomorrow for a reimbursement.”

“It’s okay, Principal Nezu. My house is only a 20 minute walk from here.” You bowed and bid farewell.

“(L/N).”

‘Crap. Is he going to expel me now? Why can’t this wait till tomorrow and not in front of everyone… fuckfuckfuck.’

“You are my responsibility. I’ll walk you home.” Aizawa said. Not even waiting for a response, he said his goodbyes and left the room with you.

The walk towards your home was nothing but awkward silence. His coat hung on his arm while his binding gear rested on his shoulders once again. Footsteps and the occasional honking of the horn were all you could here. The minutes dragged by slowly and you wanted to make a run for it to save yourself.

Finally, you spotted your apartment. That felt like the longest 20 minute walk you’ve ever had.

“This is my stop. Thank you for taking me home.” You bowed.

“How did you get that bruise?” He asked. His eyes resting on your thigh. The look on your face told him you had forgotten it was there in the first place.

“I fell down the stairs.” You responded. Scratching your cheek.

Crouching down, he inspected the bruise.

‘What the hell are you doing, Shota? Do not touch her skin.’ He internally yelled at himself. There was really nothing to it, he reminded himself. All he needed to do was to poke the bruise and give you the necessary treatment for it.

Shivers crawled down your spine when you felt his calloused finger touch the purple patch of skin. The moment he poked it, you felt your stomach tingling and heat building up. When they said there was a thin line between pain and pleasure, they weren’t kidding on that one. Feeling him poke it once, your breath hitched and a small, barely audible, moan escaped your mouth.

‘Oh god. Oh god. He did not hear that. He definitely did not hear that.’

But he did.

‘Stop this right now, Shota. She’s a goddamn student.’ The small moan you made was enough to make him curious. The rationality of this situation was screaming negativity. However, your skin was just so soft to the touch. And that moan? He wondered what other sounds could he make you do. ‘Fuck. No. This is Wrong.’

Standing back up, he cleared his throat and placed his hand in his pocket. He felt his heat rising and definitely did not want you to see that. Thank goodness it was dark.

“Sorry about that.” His eyes still fixed on you. “Recovery Girl did a good job on healing it. Just give it some ice therapy and it’ll be gone in a few days tops.”

“I will. Thank you for the tip.” You took your keys from your bag and gave him a shy smile. The touch of his skin on yours still lingering on your senses. “I better get inside now.”

“I shall take my leave then.”

With that being said, you unlocked the door and went inside. Not wanting to look back knowing just how delicate the line was. Once the hatch clicked, you slid down to the floor and tried to gather your thoughts. Times like these you were glad you lived alone.

“Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to touch my thigh? Why did you have to moan? Fuckfuckfuck” Burying your face in your palm, you scolded yourself why you let your emotions get out of control.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Aizawa had let his hair down. The chilly wind brushing his face. His unwanted friend had now settled down. His focus was on his hand. Specifically his finger. It was only for a few seconds but all he wanted was to maybe have one more opportunity to touch your skin. Clenching his fist, he placed it back into his pocket.

“What the hell did you just do, Shota?”

[op-peccatori]

A Good Master (M) | IkeVamp Theo

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire 

Pairing: Theodorus Van Gogh/Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+/NSFW

Word Count: 3100

Summary: It’s been a long week of living in a mansion where most of the residents can tell when things get steamy between you and Theo, and he whisks you away to get some much-needed privacy.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, explicit language, very minor ass play, minor humiliation, my poor attempts at degradation (I’m soft ok??), minor pet play, very minor, established relationship, Theo’s furry behaviour x 100

a/n: wait. do these vampires have enhanced hearing? I can’t remember lmao. For the sake of this, they do, pls play along. but anyway. this came to me last night and Theo made me write it. half-tempted to tag it as crack because I was cry-laughing at some of the parts

this one’s for you, Faa <3 aka the Queen who guided me into the trap known as Thirst for Theo. 

Dating one of the residents of the mansion, while you both live in said mansion, can be a tad difficult at times.

Mostly for your sex life. 

You do slip up sometimes; sneaking quick kisses in the library only to be interrupted by Leonardo, or being walked in on by Vincent when you’re still asleep in his brother’s bed. 

Having had enough of Arthur’s teasing after he caught you in the kitchen with Theo’s hand up your skirt, your boyfriend came up with an idea. If you have the time, and the opportunity, if you’re both done with work a little earlier–he whisks you away to the city, or if you’re already there, you just stay back for the night. 

“Every couple needs time to themselves,” Comte had agreed, failing to smother his knowing smile.

The hotel he chose for it was owned by a friend, and rather luxurious–unnecessarily so. But pointing it out to Theo only motivated him to show you why he picked the place. It was a short walk from the heart of the city, and the building itself was newer, the path leading up to it lit up with small lamps. The forest behind the hotel reminds you of the view from the mansion.

And there were fewer occupants. Thicker walls. He always requested a room at the far end of a hallway, preferably one with no neighbours. Not always possible, but it was better than being surrounded by people with enhanced hearing.

You suspect Theo’s just afraid of Vincent asking questions he would rather not answer. 

After all, what would his innocent brother think if he barged in to see his baby brother sprawled in an armchair, cheek resting on his palm as he watches you. You, in position on the floor, kneeling by his feet, your leather collar snug around your throat. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but your cheeks still heat up when you see the wicked smirk curling along his mouth. 

Neither of you would ever want Vincent to see this.

The collar and your panties are the only clothing he allowed you this time. You’re thankful for the lit fireplace, but not surprised because Theo would never risk you falling sick on his watch. 

He leans forward at the waist, and your heart beats faster as you watch his face come closer, before meeting him halfway. Your senses are overtaken by the sweet spice of his scent and the taste of his tongue on yours, your eyes fluttering at the slow sweep of it within your mouth. He plunders the wet heat like a man determined to own every inch of you.

Your fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, battling the urge to touch him.

He pulls away, panting, and places a hand on the top of your head, stroking gently. “I’ve been waiting to see you like this. You’ve been such a disobedient hondje lately, it’s like you want me to punish you.” 

Ocean blue eyes, vivid in their intensity, study your rosy cheeks, and the way you avert your eyes, refusing to meet them. 

“What, now you’re too scared to even look at me?” He taps under your chin. “What a cowardly bitch.” 

At this, you glare at him. 

“What’s that look for? You mad at me?” His thumb swipes at your bottom lip, and you shiver at the glint of approval part in his eyes when you part your lips to slip it into your mouth. You shake your head furiously, your tongue flicks at the pad of his thumb. “No?” 

Releasing his thumb, you lean forward to rest your head on his knee, looking up at him from under your lashes as you rub your cheek against the soft material of his pants. “No, Master.” 

Still embarrassing, but you know you’ve said the right thing when his mouth twitches, as if fighting a smile, and he returns to stroking your hair gently. His approval makes you think you would do anything if it pleased him.

“So you finally want to be a good girl?” 

“I’m always your good girl,” you mumble, petulant as you pout up at him. He laughs, low and sudden, pinching your cheek lightly. 

“That’s a blatant lie, but alright. I’ll give you a treat.” He takes your hand, bringing it to his crotch and you waste no time before unbuttoning his pants, untucking his shirt and lifting his half-hard cock from its confines. Your mouth waters at the sight of the single bead of fluid and you look up at him pleadingly. “But first...stay.” 

Your hand stays where it is, resting on his thigh, your heart racing. 

Theo’s smirk stretches further. 

“Lay down. Good, roll over.” 

You keep your eyes on him, not missing the way his fingers dig into the cushion. Disbelief almost makes you protest, but you meet his eyes and scoot back to lay down on your side, curling up on the wooden floor, before turning over onto your back. 

“Face me. Spread your legs.” You lift onto your elbows to look at him. “No, down. Pull that useless cloth aside and let me see your pretty cunt.” 

You hesitate for a moment, oddly shy as you stare up at the ceiling. 

“Laat me het zien. I won’t ask again.” There’s a note of warning in his tone.

Your feet find purchase on the floor as you slide them apart, reaching down to pull your panties to the side. With your other hand, you delve through your short curls to spread your pussy, allowing him a proper look.

You hear him swallow heavily. “Stay.” The gruffness of his tone makes you smile, satisfaction filling you at the thought of just a look affecting him so much. But then you had just drooled at the sight of his cock yourself.

“Good girl. Now, sit.”

Shame creeps in, not at the way you’re following his commands obediently, but at how damp your panties feel. You sit back on your heels, waiting for his word.  “Alright. Come get your treat.” 

He shifts forward to help you, parting his knees as you crawl in between them, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock as you begin to lick at the head, just the way he likes it. 

His nails scrape lightly against your scalp and your moan around him, taking in the hardening length deeper, his salty essence thick on your tongue.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, amused at your almost enthusiastic sucking as you bob your head languidly. 

You hum in response, pulling off to place soft reverent kisses on wet, silken skin. “This is my favourite treat. Thank you, Master.” 

He does smile at that, his eyes half-lidded and dark. “Anything for my precious hondje. But wait–”

His leg shifts and you freeze with his cock half in your mouth when you feel his toes creep up your inner thigh, tapping your hand where it’s hidden from view, in between your thighs. 

“Are you just saying that to distract me from what you’re really up to?” 

His fingers tighten in your hair, and he’s yanked you back before you can remove your hand from your panties. There’s a triumphant sort of anger in his face as he looks down at your panicked face.

“That’s odd. I don’t remember permitting you to touch yourself.” 

“I-I’m sorry?” you mumble sheepishly. Theo sighs and pulls you up by your hair, standing up to push you into the chair. His hands wrap around your ankles, pushing them aside to drape your legs over the armrests. 

“Are you asking me?” he snaps, and you flinch, trying not to squirm as he peers down at you. A part of you trembles at being so vulnerable and exposed to his ruthless gaze, with your legs akimbo–and for good reason, you think, as you watch him lift his knee, and gasp aloud when he presses the heel of his foot into your clothed mound. “I don’t appreciate you attempting tricks I haven’t taught you myself.” 

“Th-Master!” You whimper when he increases the pressure.

“I think this is all I’ll give you tonight. You don’t deserve any more.” He grinds his heel lightly and your breath hitches in your throat, your hips bucking involuntarily. 

“No, please, please, I’m sorry.” He continues moving his foot and a shameful blush spreads across your skin when you feel yourself grow wetter. “I’ve just been missing you so much. And you forbid me from touching myself all week–I couldn’t help it. I’ll be better, I’m sorry.” 

He removes his foot and slides his hand around the waistband of your panties, tearing them off of you roughly. You can feel your cunt clench pathetically under his gaze, and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Tch. My hondje’s a greedy slut. So wet–you’re just begging for a good, hard fuck, aren’t you?” 

You can’t bring yourself to reply, knowing he’s not wrong. 

“Up. Get up,” he pulls you up, manoeuvring your body until you’re straddling the armrest. “Open your mouth.” 

This time, he slips his cock in your mouth and begins thrusting immediately, his hands on either side of your head. You try to keep your jaw relaxed, and as he slides deeper your hips start rolling into the cushion, the friction feeling wonderful but not quite enough. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, from the way he hits the back of your throat, and your frustration. 

You whine around his length, feeling a hot jolt when he laughs throatily, tilting your head back so you can meet his gaze. Sweat drips down his forehead, his soft brown hair a complete, lovely mess, his bangs sticking to his forehead. He looks half-wrecked as he pushes your hair out of your face, sliding deeper down your throat and as you gag, you can feel a tear escape, gliding down your cheek. 

Frustration marks every desperate breath you try to take as you wrack your brain for anything, anything you can say to get his cock in you. 

“Don’t think too hard,” he teases, pulling his glistening length out of your mouth. He bends down to wrap his arms your waist, lifting you into his arms. Trying to catch your breath, you nuzzle the hollow of his throat as he carries you to the bed, setting you down gently. You face him and sit back on your heels, palms resting on the tops of your thighs. “Look who’s being an obedient girl. Could you get on your hands and knees for me, snoepje?” 

You’re expecting the smooth glide of his palm over your ass when you fulfil his request, the heart locket attached to your collar dangling as you look down, and know better than to say a word when he pats your rump lightly.

“Don’t move.” You’re not sure what he means before he’s nudging your legs wider, and you feel his warm tongue sweep over your aching slit. 

Oh.

Relief spreads through your body when he continues to lap at your pussy, and you know he’s eating messily just so you can hear the lewd sounds. You cry out when you feel him push him two fingers with no warning, sliding them in and out of your wet heat roughly as it keeps squeezing around the digits.

“Sheesh. I’m half-afraid your greedy cunt’s going to swallow my hand whole with how it keeps sucking my fingers in.” His other hand finds the plump flesh of your asscheek, squeezing it before he spreads it. “Looks like it recognizes its owner, hm?” 

Through the cloud of your arousal, you wonder what he’s doing before his clever tongue finds your other entrance, circling the puckered hole skillfully. 

“Th-Theo,” you whine, sparks shooting through your body as your trembling elbows give out, and you fall onto your face. He doesn’t reprimand you, seemingly too focused on pulling your ass back up to his face as he begins to dip his tongue in, his fingers continuing their artful assault within your walls. 

You bury your face in the clean sheets as he keeps you hovering near the edge of pleasure but makes sure not to push you over. He removes his fingers just as your walls begin to flutter and disappointed tears spill over as you close your eyes. 

“Please, please, please,” you continue to chant softly, only to cry out when you feel one of the fingers still coated with your arousal push through your tighter hole. Your back arches when his mouth finds your clit, rolling it deftly between his lips.

Your skin feels hot and prickly, every part of you desperate to come but he just won’t let you. 

“Please, Master, please let me come.” Your words are half-sobbed as he releases your swollen nub. “I’ll be your good girl, I promise.”

“Alright.” 

For a moment, you think you’ve misheard him. But then your eyes are rolling back into your head as he slides in smoothly, and within a second you’re stuffed full of cock and perilously near the edge.

Except, he stays in place, not moving his hips even an inch. 

You push up onto your hands, looking over your shoulders to give him a deeply betrayed look that he only laughs at as he shrugs his shirt off. But his smile his strained, his jaw ticking and his fingers spasming where they’re digging into your hips. 

“I’ve given you your toy. You want me to help you play with it too?” He cocks a wild brow when you look like you’re about to burst into tears. “Do you not know what to do? Fuck yourself on my cock, hondje.” 

For a moment, you wonder what he would do if you push him onto his back and ride him until you get what you want. 

Then you give yourself a mental whack, because you know what he’ll do and you really don’t want to be edged until dawn. It’s been a long enough week. 

So you suck in a deep breath, and begin to move your hips, trying desperately to find a way that’ll give you the right friction. Moving your ass in slow tight circles feels heavenly, and it makes your toes curl. Theo’s just watching you keenly when you sneak a glance, grunting when you squeeze down. 

You know he’s probably desperate to come too. 

“Nice try. Perhaps you could get a drop or two if you squeeze hard enough,” he mocks you, hands smoothing over your back. “Is that all you’ve got?” 

You try. You try and try as you push grind back but it’s not enough and you begin to cry in earnest, anger making your blood pump faster as you press your face into the bed, giving up.

“Hondje?” 

You fingers clench around the sheets and you refuse to respond to this ruthless, mean motherfu–your thoughts are interrupted by a click of his tongue and your view shifting when he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you back into his muscled chest, leaving you seated on his lap. 

“Is my schatje angry?” he murmurs, almost cooing as you refuse to look back at him and give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears. His hold on you tightens–and then he begins to grind his hips up. “We can’t have that.” 

Your anger fades embarrassingly quickly, gets pushed aside by dizzying pleasure with each forceful roll of his hips, and you can’t find it in yourself to protest when he pushes you back onto your hands. This time, to your relief, his hands grip your hips as he thrusts faster, bolstered further by your desperate keening. 

He leans over you, pressing his chest to your back, one hand braced next to yours and his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. “Where do you want your reward?” 

His other hand sneaks under you to grope one bouncing breast, tugging the taut nipple and flicking his thumb over it as you tremble. 

“In-in me...?” you whisper, mouth hanging open as he pounds harder. 

“Louder, liefje.” 

“In me, please. Come in me,” you moan, and his hand moves lower to stroke your lower belly. 

“You want me to fill you up?” 

“Yes!” 

You can nearly hear his smirk when he speaks. “So just getting my dick wasn’t enough, now you want a litter too?” 

“Theo!” you shriek in embarrassment, but then his fingers are between your thighs, rubbing swiftly. Pleasure sinks into every nerve in your body, setting it alight as you wail your relief aloud. He fucks you through it, pressing your head down into the mattress as his pace turns swifter and harder. 

“I’m going to do it now, ___,” he waits for your assenting whimper before licking up the length of your shoulder. Despite it not being the first time, you’re still not completely prepared for the pure, unfiltered pleasure that’s injected into your body when his fangs pierce your skin. Your walls grip him tight once more as you’re thrown into another orgasm, this one leaving you dazed and quaking as Theo keeps sucking, chest rumbling with low groans of pleasure as he swallows your blood. 

A softer moan is muffled by the bedsheets when you feel him falter and shoot his thick seed into your pussy, carefully detaching from your shoulder and pumping his cock until most of it is swallowed up, the rest trickling out immediately. 

“...I don’t think I can move,” you admit after a long moment, and to his credit, Theo doesn’t laugh as he moves to help you shift into a comfortable position. He gives you a moment, stepping into the bathroom to clean himself up, before returning with a damp washcloth and a first-aid kit. 

Your body is still cooling down when he climbs onto the bed, and you groan but lift your head slightly when he unbuckles the collar. He massages the delicate skin of your throat, licking at the inflamed patch, peppering the softest kisses around it before beginning to wipe down your slick skin. 

“I’ve got some food ready if you’re hungry, or we can wash up first, just let me know,” he informs you, pressing his lips to your forehead, pulling you closer.

“...can we wash my hair?” you ask weakly, humming when he kisses your cheeks. 

“I’ll take care of it. Brought your favourite shampoo along.” He curls his body around you, stroke your hair tenderly. His tone turns smug. “I’m a good master, after all.” 

“...just never tell me to pee on you.” He pauses, as if considering it.

“...but what if someone tries to flirt with me? You have to mark your territory–”

“Theo, no.”  

Laat me het zien: let’s see it/let me see it

snoepje: candy/sweet/sweetie

liefje: honey/sweetheart

[renxamamiya]

Theatre of Mirrors - The Empress Theatre Part 2

This took me a month plus and 20k+ words LMAOOOOOOO. I’m trying a lot of things in this chapters, including writing a fight scene and taking feedback into account.

Special shout out to @rui-the-galax-angel and @digifangirl97 for helping me with this!!!!

Also please check out the fic on AO3 here!

I’ve also added notes on certain things at the bottom of the chapter, so please read them!

“Is that Goro-?”

“He’s alive!?”

Ren and Joker gasped as they both stared at the same monitor, stunned that the brown-haired detective was alive, disbelief in their expression as they mirrored each other: wide eyes, mouth hung agape, exhaling gentle yet purposed breaths. Both Ren and Joker blinked, Ren shifted in his seat to get a better look, Joker leaned on the console table as he looked closer at the projected image in front of them, seeing their Phantom Thieves going through their shared bewilderment. Neither of them made a sound.

“Is he a...?” Ren trailed off after a long silence, turning to ask his shadow who was observing the detective with careful eyes. Joker gently shook his head in response, an amused half-smile slowly appearing on his lips, barely making eye contact with Ren as he continued to stare at the screen in awe. Goro was here. The invitation he sent, the one he thought would be the only one which would fall on deaf ears, instead called his Crow back to him once more. Though he did not dare show it to Ren, he felt elated at the sight of his rival, alive, well, and scowling at his friends.

Yet this small joyous moment of his did not last. He felt himself suddenly getting tired as he spotted Ren’s eyes gleaming with newfound hope at the sight of Goro. Joker hid his sneer as he got up from his leaned position, standing up, gloved hands tucked back into his pockets. He hated that look of optimism in his other’s eyes, wanting to snuff it out right there and then, but he stopped himself. No; his plan would suffice enough to allow him to slowly crush that hope Ren held; and more, he reminded himself. He turned on his heel, walking out of the room. Ren noticed him leave; before he could utter a word his shadow had slammed the door shut to his prison, not bothering to lock the door as darkness all but swallowed him, the sounds of chorused chatter of the cognitive guests the only thing keeping him company.

Joker snapped his fingers as he continued his stride, an audible click echoed the room. Two shadows belonging to his twisted theatre erupted from the floor to join him as he reached for the door leading to the rest of the building pausing only for a moment to converse with the shadows followed obediently.

“Now, remember the script,” he ordered the both, impatience in his tone as he pulled the door open, wind rushing towards him, gently ruffling his messy hair and flapping his tailed coat. He turned to look over his shoulder, a golden eye glinting murderously at them as he wore a serious expression, “This needs to go perfectly. If you fail, I’ll make sure to kill you as painfully as possible, you understand?”

“Yes, boss.” they both replied in unison. Joker’s stern expression melted at their reply, now grinning wildly with anticipation, his heart starting to beat rapidly with a newfound thrill, blossoming into a crescendo, feeling the tips of his fingers beating with anticipation as he found himself drowning from the thumping of his own excitement. He turned to look down the bland hallway before him, eyes narrowing, vision sharp as he inhaled a deep, deep breath. On exhale he promptly stepped forwards, another he broke into a run, focusing only towards him, his vision tunnelling as he heard his lackey’s footsteps behind him.

“It’s showtime!” he thought to himself, laughing out loud with thrill as his performance commenced.

---

"Akechi-senpai, you're alive!"

Goro heard Sumire before he saw her, the redheaded gymnast wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into a sudden, affectionate hug. He squirmed instinctively in her embrace, not used to displays of affection, and not used to ones that involve touch.

“Yoshizawa.” he growled, hoping that his unamused tone would give her the hint he needed to attain freedom from her grip, yet she did not loosen her grip around him, “Get. Off.”

“Oh, sorry,” Sumire mutters as she lets Goro go, hiding her hands behind her back as she looks away from him. Her face flushed slightly red, obviously embarrassed by the impulsive hug she had given him.

“I’m so sorry, Akechi-senpai.” she apologizes, moving her hands to her side as she gave him a formal bow, “I’m so sorry. I was just happy to see you.”

“Yo Akechi, is that really you?” Ryuji inquired, looking at him sceptically as he places his hands casually on his hips, “Or are you just a cognition?”

“I can assure you that I’m no such thing.” Akechi said, closing his eyes as his face contorted to an expression of great offense, “To think of me being here as nothing more than a figment of Amamiya’s cognition...”

“If you’re not cognition, then why are you here?” Ann said, her and Futaba now with the rest of the group, staring at him suspiciously, “Are you trying to kill Ren again?”

“More importantly, if you are indeed alive, then what have you been doing all this time?” Yusuke inquires, stepping towards the former detective, Goro looking at them, unamused.

“I do not have to answer the latter question, nor do I want to.” Goro said, clearly annoyed by Yusuke’s prying question, “As for answering Takamaki’s question: I’m simply here for curiosity’s sake.”

“You mean you have the app as well?” Makoto asks. Goro’s head snaps towards her, his eyes widening in astonishment, “With the strange notification, correct?”

“So, you’ve gotten it too?” Goro queried rhetorically, yet all of them answered with a single nod. He pursed his lips, furrowing his brows in thought as he looked down at the carpeted floor, “It makes sense for you all to be here. But why-”

“Hey, where’s Mona?” Futaba whispered, poking her head from behind the rest of the group as Goro continued to mutter to himself, “I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Mona?” Haru said, perplexed by Futaba’s question, yet a second later she realised that the feline was nowhere within the group, “Wait, has anyone seen Morgana? I thought he was with us?”

“I dunno, I was with Futaba the whole time.” Ann said, looking at both the faux blonde and the fluffy-haired girl, “I mean, I thought he was with you guys. You did go up before us after all.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see him, he must have run off somewhere.” Ryuji sighed, reflexively kicking the floor in frustration and disappointment, “That cat’s always runnin’ off somewhere. I guess we should find him before he runs into trouble again.”

"I think I saw Morgana-senpai run that way." Sumire said, pointing to where the cognitions were congregating, no doubt to head to the numerous auditoriums that were located within the Palace, "I didn’t see clearly though, he ran by me so fast."

"It's as good of a lead as any," Makoto said, ignoring Ryuji's string of curses towards their missing teammate. She walked a couple of steps, all the other thieves following her casually, but noticed Goro still in contemplative thought, one his hands cupped his chin while another held his phone.

"Akechi, aren't you coming with us?"

Goro looked up, red eyes gazing into her own.

"Me?"

"Yeah, him?" Ryuji asked in earnest, which resulted in him getting elbowed sharply in the chest by Ann, "Hey, what was that for!?"

“You can’t say stuff like that in front of people!” Ann exclaimed, annoyed by Ryuji’s boldness towards Goro, eyebrows crossed in an angry expression, “Besides, we have no idea what’s in this place. I don’t like the idea too, but we have strength in numbers, and we can keep an eye on him if he tries to do something to Ren.”

“Thank you, Takamaki, but I’ll be fine on my own.” Goro said, resisting the urge to grimace at Ryuji and Ann’s words (though he was not surprised in the slightest in the fact that they did not trust him), “I’ve had more than enough experience in combat to take care of myself. That, and we’re obviously not considered as threats. I doubt that whatever’s happening to your leader, will in turn put any of us in immediate danger.”

“Still, it’s still an awful thought for you to get left behind.” Haru said, although she did not sound too eager with the prospect of Goro coming along to find their furry friend, “Even if it’s you...”

“As I said-”

“Please, Goro-senpai?” Sumire pleads, giving Goro the biggest puppy-eyes she could muster as he turned to look at her, her bottom lip quivering, trying to evoke sympathy from within the detective, “Please? We haven’t seen you for a long time, and I know you really want to come with us...”

Goro looks at Sumire, his expression firm and unreadable, his gaze piercing, yet the girl continues to pout. The rest of the group looked at each other, not knowing how to break the tension between the two of them, waiting for either Sumire to succeed in her attempt to convince Goro, or for Goro to win in his efforts to further distance himself from the group.

The victor was decided when Goro broke his gaze, sighing deeply in defeat while Sumire smiled and cheered in triumph.

“Thank you, senpai!” Sumire grins, going in for another hug, only to be stopped by Goro’s hesitant scowl.

“I’m doing this only for you, Yoshizawa.” Goro muttered under his breath, though he can’t help but smile a bit when he saw her growth in confidence over the last year and a half. He turned to look at Makoto, “Lead the way, Queen.”

“With pleasure.” Makoto huffed, trying not to get worked up by his use of her codename, seemingly brushing it off as she resumed her pace towards the inner area of the foyer.

It did not take the group long for them to spot Morgana. He stood still as cognitions passed by, some of them muttering happily as they noticed the feline gazing upon something. A few steps more passed the crowd of cognitive people did they find what he was looking at.

“Is that?” Ann gasps, looking upon the fountain statue of Joker. The glint of the gold that accented its mask and buttons and eyes sent a shiver down her spine, its grin, smug and sinister, unsettled her, and she dare not make eye contact with the gaudy decoration. The others shared her uncomfortable reaction, a loss for words as to why such a decoration would be displayed all to see. They knew Ren, knew how he acted, knew the confidence he held in himself, yet did not associate him with the apparent narcissism they were currently gazing upon.

Morgana’s ears twitched, sensing the others as they approached behind him, turning to greet them with a sombre expression as he stood in front of the fountain.

“I think this was where Ren was caught.” Morgana informed the group, yet no one in the group found any comfort with this information, “I saw some commotion around here until I got thrown out by those shadows.”

“Where could they have taken him?” Haru asks, yet she knew Morgana’s answer, “Could he possibly be somewhere deeper in the Palace?”

“He has to be.” Morgana said, turning to look up towards the top of the twin stairwells, “I don’t know how to explain it, but I can feel him somewhere up there, calling for us.”

“Futaba, can you check if that’s the case?” Makoto asks the girl. Futaba snaps back into attention, the fountain statue previously lulling her into a trance. She looks at Makoto with a dazed expression, blinking several times as she tries to grasp what she had said to her.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that, Queen.” she confesses, Makoto sighs.

“Can you confirm that Ren’s somewhere in his Palace?” Makoto again asks her, though she could not help but send a sympathetic expression towards the girl. The man that had helped her free herself from the shackles of her distortions was now trapped from his own, and admittedly, none of the thieves have yet fully come to terms with the formation of Ren’s Palace.

“Oh yeah, why didn’t I think about that,” Futaba said, abruptly squatting down as she puts her laptop on the carpeted floor. She opened it, her device flicking to life, and started to type rapidly on it, focused on her task, “It’s gonna take a while for me to find him.” she informed the rest of the group, raising her voice slightly to be heard above the chatter of the cognitions around her, “Though I can tap into the Palace to get a look at the place, I can’t exactly pinpoint him with ease without my Persona.”

“That’s alright.” Makoto said, “We can work on finding him once we get a rough idea as to where he’s located.”

“Hey Yusuke, you’ve been really quiet since we’ve entered the Palace.” Haru said, looking at the blue-haired artist with concern "Are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh. I am, thank you for your concern, Haru." Yusuke smiles, "I'm sorry if I caused any worry, I was simply marvelling the architecture of the Palace. It's simply beautiful"

"But isn't that weird? I mean this is Ren's Palace after all." she said with concern, a hand pulling back a strand of her hair as she continued, "I mean, it's nice here but, I don't really see how it could be considered 'beautiful'."

"That's okay, I understand completely that finding an aspect of Ren's distortions 'beautiful' is less than savoury; however, I do marvel at the detailing of the architecture especially. It certainly has a lot of Western influences. Definitely matches his more Western interpretation of a rebel."

"Like the 'Gentlemen Thief' persona huh?" Haru mutters, "That makes sense. After all, Arsene does wear a top hat."

"Precisely." Yusuke said, "Details like that do put a smile on my face."

"Well, I guess you can say-"

The screams of cognitions from the floor above interrupts their conversation, all the thieves snapping their heads to see the guests fleeing from above, down the twin stairs in a desperate panic in order to run from an unseen danger. Blue flames suddenly erupted from each of the members, exposed skin and fabric alike replaced with their iconic thief outfits, another flash across their eyes placed their masks as their forgotten powers and Personas electrified their veins.

“Shit!” Ryuji exclaimed in surprise at the sudden eruption, tightly gripping his mallet, already anticipating a fight. The rest of the thieves sans Goro immediately sprung into a fighting stance, readying their weapons as they grouped together, prepared for whatever was causing the commotion upstairs. The only not in the front lines was Futaba, who was hoisted to safety by her Persona Al Azif, hovering above the group as she prepared to support them.

“It seems we were finally acknowledged,” Goro grumbles, yet he could not help but smirk at the idea of taking down the enemy approaching them. He unsheathed the serrated sword he used while in the Metaverse from his side, feeling the familiar echo of Hereward in his mind as the mask he adorned gleamed slickly in the light, “Finally. I was getting on edge with how   the atmosphere was.”

“Oracle, what are you seeing?” Makoto asked the girl, already springing quite comfortably into the lead role as Futaba typed rapidly across the different screens surrounding her from within her Persona, “Are there any dangerous shadows heading in our way?”

“Two of them. They’re pretty strong, but nothing we can’t handle.” Futaba informs Makoto, still tying away across her screens, her eyes flickering rapidly from one window to another, “They seem to be chasing something. Another shadow. A powerful one at that!”

“Why would they be chasing one of their own?” Yusuke muses as he readies his katana, his gloved hand resting delicately on the decorative hilt, “Unless-”

Two gunshots rang in the air, followed by the screams of the shadows, a blur of black and red suddenly appearing, sliding down rapidly from the polished stair rails while being pursued by two shadow guards, their head turned back as to keep an eye on their pursuers, yet they could see a smirk on their lips. Before the Phantom Thieves could realise who, the shadows were chasing, the figure turned towards them.

The gold and black mask. The red waistcoat. It was Ren’s shadow. He looked just like the fountain statue nestled between the twin stairs of the foyer. He landed in front of them with practised, familiar poise, turning around towards the shadows, gritting his teeth as he readied a knife the thieves found familiar.

“There’s the fugitive!” one of the shadow’s yelled, pointing to the golden-eyed thief as another indistinguishable shadow joined its side, “Help me snag him! The boss’ll have our heads if we keep lettin’ him run free around this place.”

“Ren-”

“Call me Joker, Queen.” he interrupts Makoto, turning back his head to give her a signature wink before turning back towards his assailants, the two shedding their suits to reveal a Dionysus, Titania and Oberon, all ready to attack, “I know you all have questions right now. I’ll explain later, but first you have to help me with taking these guys out.”

Makoto nods at Joker, agreeing with his commands as she readies her mask. The shadows jumped towards Joker, the Dionysus charging with electricity, static climbing across his multicoloured arm.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Morgana shouts, lunging forward towards the shadow as he summons his Persona, “It’s payback time! Diego, Miracle Rush!”

The Persona erupts from behind the cat, a strong, dashing, masked man with a comically tall moustache and long black cape appeared surrounded by blue flames. A single swish of his sword was enough to summon multiple golden boxing gloves supported by springs that aimed at the shadows. They reeled in back, and then suddenly sprang into action, punching the Dionysus square in the jaw and knocking it off its feet, but unfortunately missing the other two shadows in its company.

“Nice shot, Mona.” Ryuji compliments the cat as he rushes forward, assisting the feline with his enemy, readying the large mallet on his side, “But you missed the other two, might want to work on your aim.”

“I’m rusty-!” Morgana squeaks, looking at his friend with an offended expression as Ryuji brought the mallet down on the shadow, sending it straight down onto the floor, “What about you huh, you’re gonna just let the shadow get up?”

“Huh, you got a point.” Ryuji said, and went on to summon his Persona, dramatically gripping his hand onto his metallic mask, “Alright, William! Give this guy a hand. A God’s Hand to be exact!”

As soon as he did so the mask burst dramatically into the same blue flames, licking harmlessly on Ryuji’s face, rising to conjure a figure beside him. His Persona, dressed in a black and white hood, a skeletal face with its eyes behind red goggles rode atop a yacht triumphantly, conjured a fist out of nowhere, propelled by what looked like a rocket, dancing circles above its target’s head before slamming right down on top of it, injuring the shadow further.

“Skull, that was terrible.” Morgana sighs, frowning at his friend’s pun as he readies his cutlass to strike the incapacitated shadow

“Aww don’t be such a moaner, Mona.” Ryuji chuckles, Morgana ignoring the blonde as he strikes the shadow, “I’m just havin’ fun!”

“Skull, I know these shadows are nothing but total squishies, but you still gotta be careful.” Futaba buzzes through their ears, Al Azif hovering away a safe distance from the battlefield, “We can make terrible puns AFTER we’ve dealt with these shadows.”

“Hey, my puns are not-”

He did not see Morgana dodge Dionysus's attack, only hearing the electricity from its Ziodyne attack before it was too late. His head turned at the sound of the wild crackle of electricity heading towards him. His eyes widened as the bolt connected, a section of the bolt diverged and struck the carpeted floor, causing him to be engulfed into a cloud of dust and smoke.

“Skull!” both Futaba and Morgana exclaimed, calling out for their friend in a panic. Morgana summons his Persona, commanding Diego to blow away the cloud of smoke that obstructed their view of Ryuji with a quick Garudyne, only to find him completely unharmed.

“I’m okay!” Ryuji yells out, waving out to them to attract their attention, “Barely even touched me, you on the other hand.” he said as he almost sneered towards Morgana.

“Hey guys, you can fight all you want later, right now you’ve got a shadow to toast.” Futaba hisses at the two, reminding them of their situation as Dionysus charges for another attack, “Another Ziodyne coming towards your six!”

Both Ryuji and Morgana exchange brief sour expressions towards one another, before shifting their focus towards the enemy before them. --- The Oberon thrusts its sword forward towards Joker, the boy sidestepping each time it swipes towards him, golden eyes carefully observing his opponent as another swipe of the shadow’s sword barely misses him. Makoto readies into position, resting her hand on her mask as she instinctively climbs on the Persona that appeared beneath her.

“Agnes, hit it with an Atomic Flare!” she said to her Persona, and Agnes complied, a ball of blue aura appeared in front of the attacking shadow, growing before independently detonating in the shadow’s face. However, the Oberon dodged it with ease, escaping the otherwise effective attack.

“Dammit!” she whispered harshly under her breath as Ann went in to strike the Oberon, uncoiling her whip as she swung it, a sharp ‘thwack’ echoed as she struck the Oberon on the face.

“How dare you strike me!” the shadow hissed, swinging its sword towards her only to be stopped by Joker’s dagger. The weapons clashed. And they clashed again, Joker slowly driving the attacking shadow back as Makoto readies another attack.

“Agnes, Atomic Flare!” Makoto commanded her Persona again, the same blue orb appearing to engulf the Oberon, but the attack yet again missed as the Oberon evaded it.

“Queen, got any ideas to stop this shadow from moving so much?” Ann hisses as she ducks a swipe from Oberon’s sword, “We could really use some help right now!”

“Maybe slowing it down would help?” Joker said out loud before parrying multiple slashes of the shadow’s sword with his gun and knife, “I don’t have any ice skills on me. Maybe we should call over-”

“We don’t need Fox. I have an idea, just follow what I say!” Makoto instructed her teammates, Joker and Ann both nodded at her with acknowledgement as they continued to dodge the wild attacks of the shadow.

“Joker, aim your shots at its wings!” Makoto instructed Joker. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

“Panther, get ready to cast Agidyne on the Oberon!” Makoto yells towards Ann, who nodded in acknowledgement, her gloved hand resting on her mask as she readies herself.

A shot from Joker’s gun rang out, and another, and another. two of the three bullets managing to tear through the thin membrane of the shadow’s left wing, the shadow howling in pain. Joker aimed carefully; a single bullet left in the magazine of his gun. He looked down at the sight of his pistol. He aimed at the Oberon, who was hovering in the air, wobbling back and forth in pain from its injury. He squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

The last bullet tore through the shadow’s wing. The Oberon cried in pain as it floated down, its injuries too great to keep itself airborne.

“Now Panther!” Makoto shouted. With a quick shout of her Persona’s name, Ann summons Célestine behind her, the avatar of her heart standing tall, nonchalantly blowing a piece of gum as the overhead light reflects from her glasses.

“Agidyne!” Ann ordered her Persona, and Célestine lifted her hand towards the crippled shadow. Heat gathered beneath it, and before it could react, a tower of fire erupted from the fire, consuming the shadow, leaving it with embers still singeing its skin.

---

“Ella, use Kougaon!” Sumire said to the bride like Persona behind her, Ella responded by summoning a pillar of white light to strike Titania, the shadow grunting in pain as she took the attack. Yusuke followed up with a swipe from his sword, yet the fairy-like shadow managed to dodge him with ease.

“Psiodyne!” Haru shouted, her Persona, Lucy, towered behind her, one hand holding an elegant looking briefcase while another one held its masquerade like glasses in front of where its face would be, summoned forward pink swirling circles with colours accenting them towards the shadow. Titania managed to evade her attack, retaliating with its own spell as it casts Freidyne.

“Noir, watch out!”  Sumire shouted after her, Haru trying her best to escape from the Nuclear-based elemental attack, yet the blue ball persistently followed wherever she went. It was Yusuke who had saved her, pushing her out of the way just as the nuclear ball exploded, taking the brunt of the attack. He grunted audibly, Haru’s eyes widening in alarm.

“Yusuke are you okay?” she asked the artist. Yusuke responded with a smile, standing from his previously hunched position.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, “the damage I received was less than anticipated.”

“But you still took damage, are you sure you’re-”

“We haven’t the time to worry about injuries!” Goro hissed at the both as he spots the hands of the Titania glow green. He sprints forward, his sword held by his left hand as his right clasps his mask. He cries out wildly for Hereward, and the black, bow-wielding Persona erupted behind him, an arrow pulled back as it readies for Goro’s command.

“Hereward, Laevateinn!” he commanded his Persona, Hereward complying as it lets go of the strung arrow. A sword descended onto the Titania, a lucky strike by Goro as it tumbled down onto the ground, its healing spell interrupted.

“Regroup, everyone!” Futaba instructed the Phantom Thieves, all of them listening to their navigator as they jumped back into a defensive position, their various ranged weapons all pointed towards the downed shadows.

“W-wait!” The Oberon shrieks as the embers on its body continue to injure it, “Please, don’t kill us!”

“Yes, please, we were just following orders!” Titania said, whimpering on the floor, her hands curled on the carpeted floor.

“Yeah right!” Ryuji said, cocking the barrel of his shotgun, aiming his sights towards the wounded fairy, “Orders from who? Certainly not our friend Joker here, you practically attacked him!”

“Well… He-”

“Alright, I’ve had enough of them.” Morgana said, clearly annoyed by the situation as he held his slingshot ready, “Everyone, it’s All-Out Attack time!”

Before the shadows could utter another word all the thieves pounced towards them, weapons out and ready. Each thief took turns slashing at the enemies, a flurry of attacks as the sound of weapons echoed throughout the hall. Joker dealt the last swipe, a clean cut through the three of the shadows, before he flipped backwards, away from them.

A second passed, and soon a black ooze erupted from each of the three shadows before their bodies evaporated into thin air.

Joker scanned the rest of the foyer, readying his weapon as the others put away theirs, his back towards them, senses still alert as adrenaline still flowed through his veins. Al Azif descends slightly down towards the floor before allowing Futaba to gracefully float down to join the rest of her friends before dissipating, blue flames gently caressed her face as her Persona became her mask. They stared at Joker, watching him anticipate yet another attack. No additional shadows came, and he stood up, his shoulders relaxing, and he tucked away his weapons before he turned to face them, golden eyes staring at them. He smiles gently at them.

“Hello, everyone.” he greets.

“Ren… is that-”

“Ren!” Morgana cried out, interrupting Ann as he rushed towards him, arms wide to embrace him with open arms. Before the masked thief could properly react to Morgana, the bipedal feline jumped, and Joker caught him instinctively.

“Ren! Ren, I was soooooo worried!” Morgana said as he hugged Joker, burying his face affectionately in his chest. Joker returned Morgana’s hug, petting the feline with his free hand as Morgana purred audibly, “I’m sorry for interrupting you Lady Ann!” he continued to shout, trying to sound apologetic despite his joyful tone conveying otherwise, “But I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“But isn’t that senpai’s shadow?” Sumire points out, her expression guilty as she feels as though her observation had spoiled the moment between the two, “I’m sorry for being so rude, but we shouldn’t trust him-”

“Yoshizawa’s right.” Goro agrees with her, eyeing Joker carefully beneath the red filters of his mask, “Like it or not this is not the Amamiya you know and love, but an ugly, distorted version of him.”

“Am I really that-” Joker started, reflexively responding to the comment with an air of jest, yet when his shining, golden eyes met Goro’s hauntingly red ones he stopped himself, mouth still open, hanging agape. Silence fell between the two, Goro looking at Joker closely, his face expressionless, eyes narrowed in contemplation and suspicion as Joker looked at him with stunned disbelief.

“Crow, you’re-”

“Alive? Yes, I am.” Goro said, not taking his eyes off the shadow, “And you’re a shadow. Now, tell us where Ren is so we can get on our way, thank you.”

“He’s still Ren, even if he’s his shadow.” Ann huffs, her tone of voice clearly irritated by Goro’s total rejection of Joker, walking up to the shadow’s side, “Besides. Him helping us still means that Ren’s not only here, but his shadow can help us rescue him, right?”

“Yes, you’re right, Panther,” Joker nods, “I’ll be more than happy to help, and please, call me Joker.”

“Why? Do you prefer to be called that? I’m so sorry if I-”

“It’s okay, Panther.” he smiles reassuringly, touched by Ann’s kindness in accommodating his request so readily, “And yes. Though I am his shadow and should share his name, I am more comfortable with using Joker.”

“Note taken, now come here, Joker!” she exclaimed, running to join in with Morgana’s hug, wrapping her arms around his neck in affection, “Even if you’re Ren’s shadow, we’re still so glad to see you!”

“Yeah, we were so worried when we saw you had a Palace,” Ryuji said, walking to rest a comforting hand on Joker’s shoulder, “So it’s good to see you here and well buddy, and we’ll deffo help in stealing your treasure and easing your distorted heart.”

“And I’m glad to see you, Skull.” Joker smiles at his long-time friend, “If there’s anyone who can help me get rid of the distortions of my heart, it’ll be you.”

“I am happy to be here.” Yusuke smiles, walking up to stand next to Joker, the close proximity he stood next to his friend’s shadow enough to ease his heart, “Though it is unfortunate that you… our friend… have a Palace, we are honoured to be here if only to untangle the distortions that have brought this theatre in the first place.”

“And it’s nice to see you too, Fox.” Joker laughed, clearly amused by how flowery Yusuke’s language was.

“Joker!” Futaba yells, running towards him and wrapping her arms around his torso from his side, “Joker you’re okay! You’re really okay!”

“Well, ‘okay’ is putting Joker’s situation quite mildly,” Haru laughs as she joins the thieves in greeting their leader’s doppelganger, “But I have to agree with everyone, seeing you here with us, even if this is your Palace. ”

“Does the idea of me having a Palace really make you uncomfortable, Haru?” Joker asks her, eyebrows knitted as he looks at her with concern, “You can always leave if you’d like, Noir. I won’t judge you; it must be hard considering...”

“Yes, it does.” Haru answers for him, yet the spark of resolve she had in her eyes did not flicker as she looked in his golden ones, “But I promised only the others, but also myself, to be strong for you, and to help you in any way I can in getting rid of your distortions.”

Joker smiled at her, touched by her kind words.

“Thank you, Noir, I’ll be counting on you then.”

“She’s not the only one you can count on.” Makoto said, as she walked towards him, “I don’t think it’s far-fetched to assume that all of us here are more than willing to lend you their assistance should you need it, Joker. We are here to help heal your distorted heart, after all.”

“But what if I just want a kiss from my advisor.” Joker cooed at her. A blush slightly reddened Makoto’s face as she coughed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat.

“I’m sure, I can accommodate that request of yours,” she said confidently, yet the blush on her cheeks grew a deeper red. She leaned in, gently caressing his free shoulder, and gave him a peck on the cheek, Joker grinning delightfully as his golden eyes twinkled brightly with joy.

“A peck on the cheek is all I get?” he said, mockingly pouting at her, “But I thought you were here to ease my distorted heart.”

“We can kiss more when we steal your treasure; besides, the others are...” Makoto trails off, the mention of the other thieves reddens her face more in embarrassment, Joker giving her a toothy smile, only deepening the flush on her face.

“Okay, if you insist, my Queen. I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Someone audibly clears their throat. Joker looks past the group of friends that surrounded him to see Sumire standing in the middle of the foyer, her body tense, her legs straight, the girl grabbing her arms as she looks down on the floor with a saddened expression. He lightly shook his shoulders, his friends stepped away from him, Joker put down Morgana, and he walked towards her.

He stopped in front of her, not speaking a word, looking at her sympathetically yet allowed Sumire to converse with him when she was willing to.

“I’m sorry, for doubting you, Senpai.” she apologised, stepping back from her previous spot as she gave him a formal bow.

“Violet, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Joker smiles at her, slightly amused by her formality towards him, “In all honesty, you all have the excuse of being wary of me. Most of the shadows we’ve encountered were pretty hostile after all.”

“Like mine.” Futaba mutters to herself.

“But there are kind shadows, right? Shadows who just want help from us to steal their treasure, to return to normal. They exist, do they?”

“Yes.” Joker laughs, and Sumire couldn’t help but smile herself.

“Then…” she trails off, before throwing herself towards Joker, arms wide, Joker catching her with ease as she hugged him with all her strength.

“Violet, you’re hurting me.” Joker wheezed as Sumire squeezed her arms around him, and Sumire freed him from her embrace, apologising profusely.

“Oh, by the way,” Futaba said to the group, “While you guys were fighting, I picked up a signal that’s unusual to what you normally find in the Metaverse. I think it’s Ren.”

“You found where Ren’s being held?” Haru inquired the navigator, Futaba, shaking her head.

“Probably.” Futaba said, a frown on her face, pulling out a general map of the Palace to the rest of the group, a green blip pulsating on what looked to be the top of the cognitive building, “This is the signal that I found. It’s unusual for sure, the signal unlike any shadow or cognition we’ve ever encountered, and certainly not the treasure-”

“Oh right, the treasure!” Ryuji exclaims, interrupting Futaba, who reacted with an annoyed expression. “You got anything about the treasure, Futaba?”

“Remember, codenames, Skull.”  Futaba warned her teammate, “And as for the treasure....”

She trails off. The others stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

“Oracle?” Makoto said, walking slowly towards her, “Oracle, you okay?”

“...Um…”

“There’s no treasure, is there?” Goro interrupted. All the thieves snap their heads to look at him, shock and disbelief on their faces except for Futaba, Joker and Goro, “At least, the treasure has yet not materialised.”

“Wait, no treasure, are you crazy!?” Ann stammered, clearly uncomfortable and confused by this revelation.

“Yeah, every Palace we’ve encountered has a treasure!” Ryuji said hysterically, “What do you mean this Palace ‘doesn’t have a treasure’!?”

“I……. I…...I….”

“...I think we should discuss this somewhere else.” Joker informed the others, stepping in to protect Futaba from the bewildered Phantom Thieves, “I know a safe place. Follow me.”

---

The shadow led his friends up to the above floor via one of the twin stairs, cognitive guests staring at them as they followed Joker up, whispering amongst each other with excitement and curiosity, yet Joker paid them no mind as the rest of the thieves could only try to ignore their presence.

They arrived on the first floor, the foyer one decorated differently compared to the entrance below. Soft lilac replaced the colour red on the carpets and curtains, pristine, white marble replaced where gold would be, shapes of different flora carved in the stone, accented by gold paint which glittered under the bright light from the chandeliers above. There stood four doors around the foyer that lead to what the thieves assumed to be separate auditoriums: two of them closed with golden number plaques next to them; the third one, sealed behind two tall doors, had the words ‘The Empress Theatre’ titled atop of them.

Joker gestured to a large booth, one of many that occupied the room along the walls, a white curtain made of linen used to give the privacy the thieves needed to discuss their plans, hiding them from curious eyes.

“After you.” he said, smiling as he held the curtain open. Futaba was the first one to go in, diving onto the seat before sliding inwards to allow Haru to follow her in. One by one they went into the booth, Morgana having to be picked up by Ann, not tall enough to reach for the seat, and sat on her lap as his head rested just above the small table in front of them.

“I’d rather not.” Goro said, the only still standing other than Joker, crossing his arms as he looked towards the booth with scorn.

“Why not?” Joker asks, tilting his head as he looks at the reluctant detective, “Don’t you trust me, Goro?”

“Do not call me that.” Goro snapped, and Joker flinched visibly, “And to answer your question: I don’t. I don’t trust you at all.”

“Akechi-senpai, it’s okay.” Sumire said, immediately going into Joker’s defence as she pokes her head out from where she was sitting, “He helped us, remember? I’m sure Joker-senpai would never hurt us. I mean… I trust him, and I think everyone does as well, and they have way more experience than I do.”

“Yeah, Akechi,” Ryuji said, also coming to Joker’s defence, “And this is Ren we’re talking about. I mean, sure it’s his shadow but isn’t like the shadow the something true self or something?”

The others nodded in agreement, Goro looking away, a cross expression on his face. There was a small amount of movement that caught the corner of his eye, and he looked up to see Joker himself sliding into the booth to join his friends.

“You can have the end spot if it makes you comfortable.” Joker smiled at Goro, and while he did not want to admit it, he was feeling slightly fatigued from the earlier fight. He took a moment of hesitation, staring at the spot next to Joker, and sighed before he complied with the shadow’s request.

“Now that we’re all here,” Makoto said, her eyes scanning the group as she spoke, “We need to discuss-”

“Can someone please pull the curtain,” Morgana said, an expression of disappointment on his face, “We’re not exactly in a safe room you know, have you guys forgotten everything I’ve taught you!?”

“I can do it if only I wasn’t stuck here.” Yusuke offered, gesturing to both Haru and Ryuji of either side of him. The thieves lightly bickered amongst each other; one person would offer to close the curtain if the other person moved, which would cause the other person to gesture to the person next to them. This cycle, absurd and tedious as it was, repeated until all eyes landed on Goro.

“Hm, you’re asking me to close the curtain?” Goro said, not bothering to hide his unamused expression towards the Phantom Thieves.

“Well Crow, you’re the only one who can actually get out of here.” Futaba points out, gesturing to the column piece that obstructed her path to freedom, “And everyone can’t exactly move out easily as well. You gotta do it bird brain.”

“Bird brain?!” Goro scoffs in both surprise and offence. He growled in anger, trying very hard not to retaliate at the girl sitting across him. He sighed, muttering ‘fine’ as he slid out of his seat, reaching for the curtain and gently pulling it across until it hid the group from view before sitting back down again.

“Okay… so now that’s out of the way, we need to discuss several things that are imperative to ensure this infiltration is successful,” Makoto said, addressing the group around her, “First of, we need to discuss who will lead the infiltration, seeing as Ren isn’t here.”

She turns to look at Joker.

“Can you lead us?” Makoto asks, Joker replies by shaking his head.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” he admits, Makoto giving him a confused look, “I’m a shadow. The shadow of Ren. While I do know the ins and outs of the Palace, I fear that if I were to lead you it’ll compromise the mission in some way. In addition, I think it’s best for you guys if you could plan strategies somewhere out of the Metaverse.” “That is true.” Makoto nods, “But if you’re not going to lead us then, who will?”

Joker simply smiles at Makoto. Her eyes widened, the deep blush on her cheeks from earlier flushed her cheeks.

“Y-you want me to lead?!” she stammers, Joker nodding in response, and Makoto swore she would have fainted right there and then.

“Of course.” Joker said, “Everyone trusts you, and you yourself have the necessary leadership skills. There’s no one who I trust more.”

Makoto laughs, Morgana exclaims with a ‘hey!’ at Joker as Ryuji rolls his eyes at what he’s witnessing before him.

“Geeze get a room you guys.” he groaned, yet there was no malice in his tone as Ann and Sumire snicker at his comment.

“If Makoto’s our leader, then it would be appropriate to elect ourselves someone to replace her in the advisory role.” Haru said, “I was thinking about Mona being our advisor since he’s more experienced than all of us when it comes to Metaverse stuff.”

“Well, I am knowledgeable with the Metaverse itself.” Morgana said smugly, crossing his arms as he holds his head out proudly, “And I did teach you all how to be the best thieves possible. Sure, I’ll gladly take on the advisory role.”

Goro rolled his eyes in annoyance, Joker noticed him do so, and he smiled in amusement.

“Great, now that’s out of the way, we need to now discuss our course of action in regard to our infiltration: how we will conduct it, where Ren is, why there is no treasure being detected, and if it does apply, when we need to invoke a change of heart.”

She turned to look at Joker, the shadow nodded in acknowledgement.

“As you all know, Ren’s been kidnapped by the shadows of this place.” Joker said, his gaze cast to everyone except Goro who sat right next to him, “He’s being held in the uppermost auditorium of the Palace: The Fool’s Theatre.”

“The Fool’s Theatre? I don’t like the sound of that.” Ann mumbled under her breath, a look of concern on her face.

“Why is it called the Fool’s Theatre?” Sumire queried Joker, her eyes glittering in perplexity. Joker shrugged; his expression confessed uncertainty.

“I don’t know.” he said, “But what I do know he’s kept there. I honestly think they caught him, thinking they were me. Apparently, I’m a nuisance in my own Palace, which is quite absurd if you think about it.”

“Then we should go there now.” Ryuji said, “You know, bust him out and stuff if it’s just at the top floor, no problem!”

“I’m afraid it’s not that easy.” Joker frowned at the blonde, wincing as he saw Ryuji’s enthusiasm falter a bit, “The doors to the auditorium itself are locked by special keys which are held by what they called the ‘Lead Actors’ that reside in special auditoriums. I would have entered the Fool’s Theatre myself, but it’s the only room which I can't even access.”

“And who are these, ‘Lead Actors’?” Goro asked the shadow, “What do they look like? And where are they located?”

“I… haven’t seen any of them, so I don’t even know what they look like.” Joker confessed to the group hesitantly, “But I’ve heard they reside in the auditoriums like that one-”

He gestures to the Empress Theatre on the floor.

“-and they seem to only open their doors to patrons who meet two special conditions.”

“How do you know this?”

Joker turns to Goro and smiles at him.

“Goro, I’m a thief, sneaking about and eavesdropping is what I do best!” he said. Goro only narrows his eyes slightly in response.

“And what are the two conditions, exactly?” Makoto inquired.

“The first condition-” he started as he turned to Makoto, “-is to watch the performances on each of the floors. For example, I heard that in order to gain permission to even get within the Empress Theatre, you must present a ticket with punch holes showing you’ve watched the two performances located within numbered halls.”

“Well, that’s easy enough,” Ryuji said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, Makoto ignoring them as Joker continued his explanation.

“The second condition is to enter the auditorium with the person who matches the Lead Actor.”

“Matches the lead actor?” Ann said, looking at Joker with confusion, “What does that even mean? And how are we gonna get in if we’ve never seen the actor before?”

“I suggest we concentrate on the theatre watching first,” Morgana said, crossing his arms, easily slipping into the advisory role he’s been assigned. He turned to Joker, “Joker, do you have any idea how to get these tickets to access the halls?”

“Actually, I have them here already,” Joker said, pulling several golden tickets from his sleeve, the slips of admission shimmering beautifully form the light above. He put them down, pushing them towards the middle of the table in order to allow everyone to take their own slip of the key they need to help them unlock their friend’s heart, “I… stole them from the counter, just in case you guys would ever come to...”

His face flinches for a moment, an expression of pain flashed before the rest of the group. He smiled at all of them, yet sadness was still reflected in his golden eyes.

“Never mind, all that matters is that you’re all here.” he smiles, “Oh, and I almost forgot-”

He took a booklet out of his coat.

“-A program that contains the map to the Palace.” he elaborates, “It should tell you everything about the building, and should give you a clue on how to navigate it.”

He placed the program alongside the tickets, Yusuke snatching it up before anyone who could look despite the protest of an annoyed Futaba who hissed him with insults as well as calling him ‘Inari’. Makoto shakes her head, yet the rest of the girls couldn’t help but giggle at Yusuke’s eagerness to examine the peculiar booklet, the boys of the group rolling their eyes at the artist’s eccentricity.

“Well, while Fox has the chance to thoroughly inspect the program you gave us,” Goro sighed as he turned his head to the shadow next to him, “Might as well explain as to why there’s no sign of a treasure.”

“Do you think I’m the reason why there’s no treasure?” Joker asks, and Goro pursed his lips in response.

“Well, it is weird that neither I nor Futaba could detect it.” Morgana piques up, jumping up from Ann's lap and onto the table, “Even when Futaba’s treasure turned out to be her, I could sniff it out easily...”

He trails off his gaze drifting onto the ground, before his head snapped up, his eyes filled with resolve.

“But that doesn’t matter right now!” Morgana said, “Our first goal here is to rescue Ren, treasure or no treasure!”

"Well, if our primary goal is to rescue Ren from the Fool's Theatre, we must do it by the 11th of April," Yusuke said suddenly, closing the program before gently returning it to the centre of the table and grabbed one of the golden tickets for himself.

"The 11th of April, where did you get that date from?" Sumire puzzled, Yusuke turned to look at her.

"It said so in the program." he replied as Futaba took the booklet for herself, "'Join us at the Fool's Theatre for the World Premiere of a performance of a lifetime' it said, and it referred to a special guest appearance; no doubt referring to-"

“Ren-senpai.” Sumire finished his train of thought.

“Well, judging from the map here, it’s gonna be pretty easy.” Futaba said as she flicked through the booklet herself, “There are only nine floors we need to go through, ten if we’re including the Fool’s Theatre.”

“And all we have to do is to just watch some plays, right?” Ryuji said, crossing his legs casually in his seat, “Man, this is gonna be a piece of cake for us. I mean, even if there are shadows who are gonna jump us like with those shadows earlier, taking them out would be easy.”

“Still, I think it would be best to exercise caution.” Haru said, “Speaking of which…”

She turned to Yusuke. He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Noir?”

“I think you need some healing. I can still see the impact of the previous fight on you.”

“I’m fine, Noir. Really, it is no trouble-”

“No, please, Fox. At least take some-”

“I would rather not-”

“Fox-!”

While the group was too occupied with the bickering members, Joker turned to look at Goro. His eyes gazed soft and longingly at the black figure who looked away from the commotion, instead more content in observing the wandering cognitions as they talked amongst each other.

“Akechi.” Joker said, his voice a whisper, “How did you-”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Goro grumbled back, his back still turned towards the shadow, “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Just know that I am alive.”

“Oh, okay,” Joker mumbled, taken aback by Goro’s dismissive tone, sinking back into silence.

“-There we go, Fox. Are you feeling any better?” Haru said, her words caught the attention of Joker as he turned to look to see a smiling Yusuke.

“Why yes, Noir.” Yusuke smiles, “I feel much better actually, thank you for healing me, although you did not have to.”

“Well, you were stubborn about it, but I’m just glad that your injuries are-”

“If you’re all done fooling around, then I suggest we get this infiltration started.” Goro snapped and interrupted Haru, everyone flinching at Goro’s outburst as he got up from the booth seat, “We haven’t got time to waste. We have a deadline to keep to, remember?”

“Dude we’ve got more than a month.” Ryuji said, “And besides, why are you so eager to get started?”

Goro’s only response was a cold look towards Joker, the shadow stone-faced as red gazed into gold. Without another word, Goro turned on his heel and walked away.

Joker slipped out of his seat to address his friends after Goro’s leaving.

“He’s right.” Joker admits, “You all need to get going. Every second you waste here is a second that Ren… my other… stays trapped in this place with the puppet master that’s holding him in there.”

“Does that mean you’re going to watch the performances as well?” Makoto asked the shadow; Joker shook his head in response.

“Forgot to grab a ticket for myself.” he said, “That, and I was thinking of making myself useful to the team. I can get into places that I doubt you guys even can, so while you see whatever’s going on in those halls, I’ll see whatever I can uncover regarding my other’s psyche.”

“But you’re already useful,” Sumire said.

“Yeah.” Ann agreed, “You already told us how to get into those auditoriums and got the ticket and the map to the Palace for us. You’ve done so much already for us, Joker. Don’t worry about it.”

“...Thanks.” Joker smiled as he watched his friends slowly exit from the booth, “It’s just. You’re doing so much for me already, it’s the least I can do to help you guys.”

“Nah man, you’ve already done so much for us before this.” Ryuji laughed, pulling the shadow into a quick hug, “If anything, this is us repaying you for all you’ve done.”

“I agree with Skull,” Morgana said as he hopped from the table, his own ticket glittering in his paws, “This is our way of returning the favour.”

The other thieves nodded in agreement to Ryuji and Morgana’s words, and Joker’s smile grew larger. He felt loved, their resolve glittered in their eyes.

“Thank you, everyone,” he said, before turning to Makoto.

“Well, I suggest you all go into the Devil Theatre first, the one numbered fifteen.” he informed the temporary leader, his gaze looking sternly at her as he nodded towards the general direction of their goal, “It’s the only one currently available for showing. I’m sure the other hall, numbered seventeen, will open once the performance is done.”

“Thank you, Joker,” Makoto said as she nodded at him.

“You’re welcome, my Queen.”

He watched the rest of the thieves wander towards the auditorium, sans Makoto, who briskly walked towards Goro. He watched as they spoke with each other, Goro standing from the wall he was leaning on, hush words exchanged between the two thieves. Their conversation stops, and both Makoto and Goro wandered towards the entrance where the others stood.

Joker waited, watching silently as his friends all went through the door, he watched as the door closed fully, watched he was alone with the cognitions of his palace. No sign of the door opening again, he waited for a bit, until he assumed, they'd taken their seats. Good.

He looked behind him. At a small black, glistening speck nestled within the dark where even the sharpest eyes could barely detect it. He looked directly at the hidden camera.

And smiled deviously.

  ---

  Makoto was the last one to seat herself within the last row of the small auditorium room, the thieves sitting in the row behind the rest of the cognitive audience, allowing themselves to be hidden among the shadows. The lights that illuminated the sides of the room dimmed into darkness, signalling the audience that the play before them was about to begin. A second passed. Then two, then three. Slight creaks echoed amongst the audience within the room as cognitions shifted impatiently in their seats, the Phantom Thieves on edge as they anxiously waited for the performance to start.

“Is something supposed to-”

A stark shutter interrupted Ryuji’s inquiry, the stage lit with a single spotlight, the cognitions muttering ceasing as their heads snapped to watch the stage.

Stillness sunk within the small space. Then the sounds of steps, before a figure emerged into the light. Black curls of hair characterised the actor before them, his face down, shrouded and obscured to the rest of the audience. Yet the Phantom Thieves knew who it was. It was…

“Ren?” Ann whispered as she turned to Futaba who was sitting next to her, “Is that him?”

“Hmm, doesn’t look to be him,” Futaba said, adjusting her goggles as she took a closer look at the actor on the stage, “Readings seem to be giving off that this Ren is merely a cognition of sorts. A fake.”

“Why would Ren have cognitions of himself?” Yusuke queried Morgana who was seated next to him.

“It may have to do with something related to the particular formation of his Palace,” Morgana explained as he observed the cognitive Ren closely.

The cognitive Ren looked at the audience, his eyes unfocused.

“February was where my end, began.” The cognition started; his tone flat as he began his monologue. He talked about saving a woman from a drunken man while he was walking home, how his parents found out he was sued, how he was shipped off into the city, and how he had to stay in an attic within a coffee shop. The thieves quickly understood that the cognitive version of their leader was recounting his time in Tokyo.

“April the 11th,” the cognitive Ren continued, “I met someone who would become my best friend, I discovered a World where the deepest, darkest desires of men manifest, and it was the day that I finally felt… free.”

“That’s when he awoke to Arsene, right?” Ann whispered to Ryuji, who gave a nod as the cognitive Ren continued his monologue.

“I mean, it makes sense.” Morgana said, “When you guys first tore off your masks you are tearing off the mask you wear around society and the outside world.”

“-And so, every time we summon our Persona’s, we are revealing our inner selves towards the rest of the world?” Haru said, clasping her hands, “That’s really poetic.”

“I suggest you all shut your mouths if you don’t want to get caught.” Goro snaps at them, his voice controlled yet a hint of annoyance towards the conversing thieves. Ryuji looked at him as he was about to snap back towards the traitor, but decided against it, while the other thieves shifted uncomfortably in their seats before turning back their attention to the play before then.

Madarame’s Museum, Makoto’s blackmail, Kaneshiro’s Bank. Futaba’s cry for help in exchange for helping take down Medjed. Meeting Haru. Taking down Okumura. Changing Sae’s heart. The interrogation and Goro’s betrayal. The cognition continued to recount the events of Ren’s year in Tokyo with a monotone voice to his crowd, yet the thieves noticed that memories he even considered ‘positive’ during his time there were few and far in between.

“If these were his memories, then why are there barely any happy ones?” Sumire puzzled out loud towards Makoto, who crossed her arms in thought.

“He might be minimising his happier memories and magnifying his traumatic memories,” she said, watching the cognitive Ren as he continued to monologue to his audience, his voice dull, his expression downcast with shadow.

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know Sumire,” Makoto admitted, turning to her with sorrowful eyes.

“Is it just me, or has the spotlight dimmed a bit?” Haru said, Yusuke giving her a nod of agreement.

“I’ve noticed it too,” he confirmed, his voice solemn, “Is it perhaps something to do with the play itself? The subject matter?”

“Yeah, it makes more sense if that were the case,” Morgana said, “After all, this reflects a part of Ren's psyche. If the stage is dimming, it will be related to whatever this play is about.”

“Another thing, Morgana. If we are required to watch these plays in order to access the main theatres to get the keys to unlock the Fool’s Theatre, is it Ren’s way of communicating his troubled mind to us?”

Before Morgana could answer Yusuke, stunned gasps erupted from the audience. The cat turned his attention towards the stage, only to find the cognitive Ren sinking into darkness, still monologuing, unaware of his current predicament.

Morgana caught the words that came out of the cognitive Ren’s mouth, and he felt unease slowly churn his stomach. The cognitive Ren was talking about his life back in Inaba: the shame his mother and father bore with his false arrest, the shunning and isolation he faced from his classmates, the rumours that seemed to follow him from Shujin. Though the cognition kept the same, blank expression towards the audience, each word he seemed to utter sank him deeper and deeper in his own shadow, swallowing him whole as the audience did nothing but watch the spectacle in bewildered silence.

“What the eff...” Ryuji said, trailing off in horror, turning to Ann with pleading eyes. Yet Ann shook her head in response, knowing that the impulsive member of the group wanted to save the sinking mockery of their friend - something she wanted as well.

“Ann...”

“Skull,” Ann said, careful to use his codename as she spoke, her voice soft and pleading as she gently pulled him down back onto his seat, him following almost instinctively as he sat back down. He too saw her desire to spring into action, to save the cognition as he drowned in his own shadow, dragged into sentient darkness while staring at them with blank eyes; but she knew she could do nothing, as so did the other thieves, and Ryuji tried to swallow the rage he felt as the audience clapped with disappointment at the cognition’s performance.

---

“Are you enjoying the performance so far, my guest?” Joker asked Ren, him smiling gleefully as Ren looked at him with hatred, bound hands curled into fists as his shadow, Joker’s eyes illuminating with pleasure.

“Performance? You call that a performance?” Ren spat, concealing his confusion of his shadow’s plans, and plotted to use Joker’s smugness in order to get even a sliver as to what his shadow had in store, “I’ve seen better performances at kindergarten productions. Even low budget soap operas have more effort than that story excuse for drama.”

“I know what you’re doing, Ren,” Joker said, his expression unchanging, amused to see Ren trying his best to outsmart his own shadow, “It’s cute but, don’t think for a second that it’ll work on me. I know you, and I know you’re trying to slyly trick me into giving away my plans.”

Joker chuckled as Ren’s expression, his other wearing one of annoyance, licking his lips before he continued to taunt him, “I can’t give you a hint. Not yet. It'll ruin the surprise.”

“Surprise?” Ren pondered, raising an eyebrow, and Joker mockingly covered his mouth and gasped.

“Oh, there I go again, running my mouth,” he gasped, before laughing hysterically, clearly amused with himself as he stepped forward towards his bound other, “I must really be careful with what I say. I really mustn't spoil the plot for our grand performance.”

“‘Grand performance’. you mean whatever’s going to happen on the 11th next month, right?”

“You’ve been paying attention.” Joker said, and Ren frowned in response, “But yes. I have a great production for you…for the whole world to witness. It will be the culmination of our desires and dreams, and-”

Joker stopped himself mid-sentence, realising he had gotten ahead of himself, almost making an amateur blunder, and withdrew his hands back into his pockets. Ren could only hiss in disappointment as he anticipated his shadow causing his mistake, playing on Joker’s smug demeanour and using it against him. Instead, the shadow continued to observe him, intense gold shining coldly behind his mask, leaning lazily on the doorframe where he stood.

Something on one of the monitor screens caught Joker’s attention, his eyes focused intensely behind him, as if hypnotised by whatever’s currently playing. Using his strength, Ren swivelled around in his chair to see what Joker was staring at, following his shadow’s gaze to see…

Himself. Crying. Cupping his hands, ash in them, kneeling on the hardwood stage as multiple shadows around him laughed mockingly at him. Two Kodama’s circled his crying copy, giggling as they floated, swirling freely in the air, drowning his sobs as they laughed over him. Ren could see two other shadows that stood behind the curtains, Sraosha looking quietly with its gigantic eye as a Fuu-Ki summoned a gale of wind, his clone trying to shield the ash from the gust, clutching the ash closely to him, yet Ren could see the spotlight illuminating clearly that his treasure was falling swiftly through his fingertips.

“Joker.” Ren said, his voice demanding, angry as he did not understand what the both were watching, “You mentioned scripts, right? What is this supposed to mean? Why are you making me watch… whatever this is!?”

Joker snapped from his trance, blinking his eyes slowly before looking at Ren in acknowledgement. He answered Ren’s question by giving him a grin that made Ren’s blood boil, his knuckles white, rage bubbling in his throat, and Joker couldn’t help but laugh at Ren with utter glee.

“Ren, don’t be upset,” Joker said, walking towards Ren until he loomed over him, the shadow’s shadow cast upon him. He craned down his neck, face inches from Ren’s, his smile full of teeth as his eyes gleamed with such intensity that Ren could not help but wince in intimidation, “After all, we haven’t reached the climax of today’s show, Don’t you want to know what happens? Don’t you?”

“I don’t think I have a choice in the matter.” Ren said, grimacing as Joker’s smile stretched even wider.

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaimed with joy, patting Ren on the head in a congratulatory gesture towards his guest, “After all, I did prepare all of this for you and your friends to enjoy. And enjoy you all shall, ‘ll make sure of that.”

“I still don’t underst-”

“Nononono.” Joker murmured, putting a finger onto Ren’s lips to silence him, shushing each time Ren dared parted his lips, “No more questions. I have to go see the others soon, I can’t miss my cue, you’ll sit tight and watch my performance, won’t you, Ren?”

Ren did not reply. He couldn’t, the steady, defiant look he gave to Joker was the only thing he could do in that situation, and Joker enjoyed how much power he exerted over him.

“Good, good, Ren. I appreciate it,” he said, taking his finger from Ren’s lips, his other keeping silent, maintaining his rebellious expression, up until Joker again closed the door to his prison did Ren allow himself to finally shed a tear.

  ---

  “Damn, that was another bummer, huh.” Ryuji sighed as they exited the other auditorium, his expression dejected as he watched the other thieves emerge from the room alongside him. Each thief wore a similar expression of sadness, coming to terms with what they have witnessed, and the only two who did not seem perturbed as they made their way towards their booth were Morgana and Goro.

“Yeah, both of them sucked,” Ann agreed as she hesitated in following Yusuke within the seat, instead content to just stand over the table as Futaba took her place within the booth, “The audience weren’t all that great either, ‘he’s just being a cry-baby’?! Why would they think that?”

“Same,” Haru sighed, rhythmically tapping her fingers on the polished table in front of her, “It didn’t help that the audience were so rude about it.”

“How can anyone even be ‘bored’ by someone’s misery like that,” Futaba seethed, ignoring her laptop in front of her, her voice cracking as she threatened to cry at any moment, “I know they’re just cognitions, but the idea of even them complaining about Ren’s suffering...”

“...It truly is sadistic, isn’t it?” Yusuke mumbled, hand resting on his chin.

“Remember, whatever is shown in the Palace is a reflection of their ruler’s heart,” Morgana stated, hopping on the table as he addressed the group, “There must be a reason, something in Ren’s psyche that states we have to bear witness to… whatever these plays represent. If we do, it may hold a clue for us to bypass the other plays within this Palace, making our infiltration faster.”

“Mona’s right,” Makoto said, nodding with agreement at the cat’s words, yet the others looked at the both of them with doubt, “Maybe if we ask Joker, he can give us a clue-”

“A clue about what?” a familiar voice purred, and she turned to see Joker standing in front of her, expression neutral, hands in his pockets as he tilted his head in curiosity, “Is it something you need my help with, my Queen?”

“Your entrance was certainly timely,” Goro said, narrowing his eyes as Joker removed his hands from his pockets, allowing them to hang beside him, “Where were you while we were watching those plays? We didn’t see you when the first once ended.”

“I was looking into some things,” Joker answered nonchalantly, absentmindedly waving his hand in the air as he spoke, “Mostly to do with the theatre at the top,”

“Did you find a way to get in?” Makoto asks, in which Joker responded with a frown and the shake of his head.

“No… I’m sorry, Queen,”

“That’s okay,” she reassured him, giving him a reassured smile, “You tried your best, it’s all we can ask for at the moment,”

“Still, how were the plays?” Joker asked, his gaze looking towards the rest of the thieves, “Judging by your expressions, I take it that they weren’t great?”

“No...” Sumire trailed off, expression sullen behind her mask, “They were really depressing, Senpai, it was really hard to watch at times,”

“Oh,” was all Joker had to say to her.

“Yeah,” Haru said, agreeing with Sumire as she adjusted a loose strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face, “It was certainly hard to watch without feeling sad, certainly. Joker, do you know if all the plays are as depressing?”

“I don’t know, they might be, they might not,” Joker admits, “If the plays are too hard to bear, I suggest you come tomorrow and-”

“Nu uh, we’ve come this far already,” Ryuji huffs, uncrossing his legs, “And we aren’t bailing on you, Joker, not until we get… whatever is in there.” he said as he points towards the Empress Theatre.

“Ah, yes,” Joker said, “The Empress Theatre… to get the key right?”

“Speaking of the Empress Theatre,” Makoto remembered, “We still have no clue as to what the second condition is in order to enter it. Will you mind filling us in, Joker?”

“That I can do,” Joker said casually, “But be warned… I don’t exactly understand it myself.”

“Meaning?” Goro challenged, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Joker.

“Well,” Joker started, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to collect his words, “I’ve mentioned earlier that the person going in has to match the Lead Actor, correct?”

“Correct,” Makoto said as she nodded to Joker, “But, what does that actually mean?”

“Well, I suppose it has to do with it resonating within one of you,” he said, “Ren wears many masks, each one representing an aspect in his daily life, a person who he faces every day. If these auditoriums are so important that the Lead Actors reside in them, that much mean that each hall might represent-”

“One of us,” Morgana finishes, and Joker nods.

“He cares a lot about you all.”

“So, those messages we got, and the Metaverse app installing itself back on our phone… are you suggesting the reason why is because of these Lead Actors?” Goro theorized.

“It might be, Goro,” Joker shrugged, “However, when it comes to each of you belonging to which hall, I don’t really know. What I do know is that I can go into any of them besides the Fool’s Theatre; I suggest whoever goes first that I’ll accompany them as well. There’s no telling what can happen in there once the Lead Actor appears, if they’ll appear, of course.”

“If I may ask, Joker, how do we know if we're the appropriate thief to enter them in the first place?"

“That I… I don’t know.”

The thieves pondered for a moment, each of them looking around at themselves and back at the double doors that lead to the Empress Theatre. Silence fell upon them, the chatter of the cognitions echoing in the background.

Then Ryuji stood up from his seat.

“Well, if you guys are okay with it, I’m going first,” he stated, shocking everyone as they all looked at him with baffled expressions.

“Ryuji, how do you know it is you who fits the conditions of the Empress Theatre?” Yusuke queried his teammate and friend, looking at him with questioning eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t,” Ryuji confesses, “But like, I don’t like the idea of us just sittin’ around here while Ren is above our heads enduring god knows what-”

“But it says Empress, Ryuji,” Futaba interjects as she slumps in her seat, “Meaning it’s gotta be one us girls, not you, who goes in there,”

“Hey, Empress’ can be boys, too!” Ryuji exclaims.

“Nu uh,”

“Can too, probably,”

“I’m sure that’s not how it works,”

“Well, I’m sure if Naoto Shirogane is still called the Detective Prince despite being a woman, Ryuji could very well be an Empress of some kind,” Goro remarked, grinning mischievously, amused somewhat by his own joke.

“See, Futaba? Goro’s got a point!” Ryuji smiled, crossing his arms, and Goro dropped his jaw in astonishment.

“Ryuji, you are aware that I’m making fun of you, right?” Goro huffs, and Ryuji looks at him with an expression of shocked betrayal.

“Wait-what?! I thought you were helping me?!” he stammered as some of the thieves could not contain their giggles, and even Joker couldn’t help but smile at Ryuji’s reaction, “Well, I’m gonna take that as a compliment, anyway,” he said, crossing his arms, “At least I’m trying to think of something to help Ren, why you gotta be an ass about it?”

Goro responded by rolling his eyes before he returned to staring at the double doors.

“Um, I’m sorry to interrupt, but may I volunteer myself to enter it with Joker” Haru piped up, raising her hand quite timidly, trying to get the attention of the rest of the thieves.

“Sure, Haru, but is there something wrong? I hope I’m not being too forward with this, but I didn’t expect you to volunteer so readily,” Makoto said.

“It’s okay, Makoto,” Haru smiled, “And as for me volunteering… I don’t really know how to explain it, but...”

She looks directly towards the Empress Theatre’s doors.

“I feel… strangely drawn to it,” Haru confesses, her eyes steadily fixated on the doors, “It’s like… It’s calling me, I think? I’m sorry if it sounds absurd, but-”

“You have nothing to apologise for, Noir”, Ann said, smiling at her friend as she puts a reassuring hand on Haru’s shoulder, “I mean, we’re in the Metaverse, and there’s bound to be some crazy things that occur here.”

“That said, Panther,” Morgana said as he approaches Haru, “It might be because Noir is the only one that’s able to go into the theatre,”

“How can you be so sure, Mona?” Yusuke inquired, resting his hand on his chin in thought.

“I mean, it is calling for her, right?” Morgana explains to Yusuke, “And given what we know of the Lead Actors, there must be a reason why the theatre itself is calling to Noir specifically. Plus, if we were wrong and Noir is not who the Lead Actor is calling to, Joker would be there to safely get her out, right Joker?”

“Yes,” Joker nods, “I’ll be sure to safely escort Noir out if anything happens. You have my word.”

“Oh okay then,” Haru said cheerfully as she got in her seat, the others doing their best to shift around their legs as she clambered out of the booth before giving Morgana a pat on head, “Thank you so much for the speech of confidence, Mona-chan, I appreciate it greatly!”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Morgana purred as Haru’s hand left his head. He turned to Joker, “Just make sure that whatever happens, both of you get out safe, okay?”

“We will, Mona,” Joker said, nodding as Haru approached his side, “You can count on me, I’m Joker after all,”

The both said their goodbyes to the others, Haru barely eye Goro as she did so, before they both turned towards their destination, Joker jumping ahead to grab one of the doors for Haru, opening it for her.

“After you, Miss Noir,” Joker said, bowing gracefully at her, hand tucked politely in front of him, earning a giggle from his teammate, a sound he was happy to hear from her, grinning playfully himself.

“Thank you, Joker,” she bows back playfully before entering the room, Joker standing up from his bow and following Haru inside, allowing the door to gently close itself, gently thudding shut behind them.

---

The interior of the auditorium was unlike Haru had ever seen, lilac carpeting over white marble trailed on the floor that led to the polished stage before her. Beautiful plush seats, all adorned with small white pillows sat in rows facing forward, all the same matching lilac as the carpet, while flowers of various colours decorated the column that supported the balcony seats above, vines supporting vibrate green leaves snaking neatly around railings, the pleasant floral aroma wafting down alongside small petals that landed beside her feet. She looked up, slow, hazy movement having caught her eye, to see a giant, crystalline chandelier hanging below a moving landscape of soft, painted clouds floating by an idyllic sky.

“It’s… beautiful...” Haru marvelled, her eyes wide with complete awe, the hall completely resonating with her aesthetics as she slowly stumbled forward. Joker watched her take in the sight of the decorations that adorned the room, smiling at how happy she looked as he walked ahead, patiently waiting down in front of the steps that lead up to the stage as she slowly clambered down among the row of seats, “Joker, this place is… it’s amazing!” she gasped giggly, and Joker could not help but chuckle at her excitement.

“Is it?” he asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow in mock curiosity, yet Haru paid no mind to his playfully sarcastic response as she approached him, giddy with excitement.

“Yes...” she sighed as she looked at him, and Joker could see her flinch as soon as she remembered the task she was here for, “I mean… I…. I-” she stammered, a light shade of blush forming on her cheeks, “I’m sorry, I got carried away there, haha,”

“It’s okay, Noir,” he chuckled, before gesturing her to go up the stairs first, a curt bow as he raised his hand towards them, “After you,”

“Thank you, Joker,” she giggled, climbing up the stairs on the stage, her pumps clicking as she walked on the polished floor. She wandered on it, Joker following behind her with a casual stride, “I suppose we need to find the Lead Actor now, right?”

“I guess-”

The lights shuttered shut, both Haru and Joker jumped in place, both grabbing and readying their weapons as they stood side by side. Nothing happened. There was no movement, only the sound of silence echoed the walls, their own breathing almost deathly silent as the two of them prepared for an enemy to pounce.

Another shutter echoed the still theatre. A single spotlight shined suddenly in the dark. Haru narrowed her eyes in confusion and worry, her grip on her axe tightening, feeling Lucy stir under her mask as she took small, slow steps towards the solitary spotlight. Her ears strained in the silence as she slowly approached the outer rim, yet she saw no shadow slithering in sight.

“Joker?” Haru whispered, turning her head to find the shadow of her friend missing, sweat now gathering under her gloves, gaze flicking anxiously as he tried to spot him. Another sound. Haru turned to see nothing lurking in the audience area.

She felt rough hands grab her shoulders, and she was promptly shoved into the light. She tumbled into the spotlight, shrieking as light consumed her vision, before shifting to dark, and Haru could feel herself falling.

She fell, wind whipping her hair, weapon slipped from her grip as she flailed in nothing, she screamed, pleading for help, yet the shadows responded with nothing.

A sudden “oomph” fell between her lips as she sunk into the shrubbery, the plant miraculously cushioning her from what felt like to be a very steep fall. She groaned, the wind knocked out of her lungs as she impacted the bush, allowing her a moment to gather her strength before pushing herself up.

“W... where am I?” Haru thought out loud as her eyes scanned her surroundings. She found herself to be in some sort of garden, the plants looking sullen and sickly, wilting, starving for sunlight and warmth as they sunk into the stone that decorated the area, the sky black and empty, lacking any features. She got up to her feet, dusting her legs and trousers of dirt as best she could as she continued to look around, marvelling grimly at the state of the garden, yet found it odd that she could see without an obvious light source.

“Hello?” she shouted, her voice echoing, yet she heard no response. She quieted her breaths, listening intently for any sound in the stillness.

A sob. Haru rushed quietly towards it, softly stepping on the dead flowers and leaves as best she could, following a weathered stone path into an alcove next to a dried waterfall, only to see Ren sitting on a dead lotus, surrounded by a ring of anemone, naked and crying. Petals of marigold drifted gently down the golden shaft of light that illuminated him from above, some sticking on his skin, seemingly clinging it to him as the thorns of white roses dug into him, Ren covered in bruises and scabs as they seemed to suck sickly on his blood while narcissus flowers were stuck, rotten in his hair.

“Ren,” she said, reaching out to him in hopes of soothing her crying friend, only to be stung by the thorns that clung to him, and she could see them tightening around his body, pricking fresh new blood as he continued to wail. She panicked, his whines tugging at her heart, Haru desperately trying to reach out for him, calling his name over and over, yet for every word she uttered, his wail of pain and anguish drowned her out.

“Ren, please!” Haru begged, yet Ren barely acknowledged her, still sobbing as the vines strangled him more and more. She panicked, trying to desperately calm Ren while trying not to touch the vines, yet each patch of skin she reached for earned herself another lash from the roses as they rushed to cover Ren, causing him to howl and bleed.

“Ren, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to do,” she apologised, watching solemnly as Ren continued to cry, barely acknowledging her presence, too absorbed within his despair as marigolds continue to flutter down towards him, earning another gasp as they landed snugly on his flesh. It seemed to her that the only thing that remotely stirred Ren were the flowers that surrounded him.

An idea sprung to mind. Hushing a goodbye, Haru retreated from the alcove back into the wider garden, a goal that kept her steadfast as she trudged among the floral graveyard. Her eyes swept across sickly green and brown until-

She spotted a single, small daffodil sprouting amongst dead branches, yellow barely shining amongst brown, its petals poking out just enough for Haru to see. She approached the flower, gently pushing the branches away before she carefully reached for the flower and plucked it from the ground.

“Hello, little friend,” she said as she gently held the daffodil in her hand, its petals shining in the omnipresent light. She stood up from her crouching position, the flower in her hand, and continued to patrol the garden, looking for any more flowers she could salvage from the decrepit garden.

In what seemed like hours (though she couldn’t tell, as time felt like it had no governance in that realm) she had collected four additional flowers for her small, makeshift bouquet: twin red Carnations sat next to the Daffodil in her hand, a purple Iris and a pink Hibiscus intertwined together wrapped up with the other flowers, and a Sunflower stood tall amongst them. By coincidence, she happened to find a pink ribbon amongst the mess of twig and stone that defined the garden, its origin unknown, but in which Haru used to tie the stems tightly together.

A last patrol around the garden and Haru made her way back to the alcove where Ren sat, the bouquet in her hands. She felt sickly as she saw the number of marigold petals that covered him, touching any inch of skin not already occupied by the snaking thorns around his hunched body. “Ren?” she whispered, in which he did not reply, but when she held up her gift did Ren stir from his position. He blinked; black, shimmering eyes stained with red looked at the flowers with curiosity. Haru choked back a fearful sob as Ren weakly reached for the flowers she held in her hands.

“Here, Ren. These are for you,” she said, yet she did not know if her words reached his ears, or whether he could even comprehend them while in his current state. He grabbed weakly at them, thin fingertips brushing against the petals of the flowers, grasping at them with great difficulty, and Haru helped him seize his gift by grabbing his hand before clasping his fingers for him.

“There you go, Ren. Just hold them tight,” she cooed, wrapping the flowers to his hand with the bouquet’s ribbon, making sure the knot she tied around them secure. She gave him a smile, and although Ren’s gaze was wholly fixated on the flowers he held, he smiled in return.

The white roses and their thorns rapidly snaked up his arms as Haru’s flowers erupted spontaneously into cyclamen and sweet pea, the anemone hissed at her feet as she stumbled back in fear. The petals of marigold once fluttered down sparsely from above now rained on Ren in a torrent as they drowned the boy, his hand holding what was once his gift still exposed, left untouched.

Haru tried to save him, she tried to approach her friend, yet something snaked between her ankles and held her in place, Haru looking down to see stalks of spider lilies squeezing her stationary, more and more joining as the stone path fell before her, Haru’s frame supported by the spider lilies that continued to assault her, Haru screaming as she desperately fought off the flora binding her in place. One latched onto her right wrist before pulling back, another one doing the same to her left, and Haru thrashed, squealing in utter fear as the flowers restrained her, and she looked to still see Ren’s exposed hand, still clutching onto the flowers, the ribbon gleaming vibrantly against pale skin.

“Get-” Haru tried to shriek, fighting instincts flaring in her muscles as terror pooled in her stomach. Yet she was silenced when the lilies snaked up her neck and around her mouth, and she muffled as they continued to climb up her body. She jerked wildly, her body flailing, her vision blackening, the last thing she saw being Ren’s still outstretched hand and the marigolds that continued to pour violently onto him before the lilies snaked around her eyes, and soon suffocated her other senses entirely.

  ---

There was nothing. Black.

Her head was full of fog.

Haru felt her mouth dry. She smacked her lips, the skin chapped, her throat hoarse. Dizzy. She felt dizzy.

The sound of chirped chatter, the patter of a carpeted floor and the clatter of cutlery. Bright light in her eyes mixed with darkness. She could smell something savoury.

Haru opened her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering against her face, the sound of the diners eating and chatting around her, the smell of the buffet reaching her nostrils caused her to salivate, the intensity of the yellow lighting above her made her wince as her eyes adjusted from the brightness from above. She raised her head from the cool dining table she was currently slumped over, waiting for her tired brain to register where she even was.

Blinking a few times, she finally knew where she was: at the famous Wilton hotel buffet in Tokyo. Memories of the spider lily assault sprung back to mind, and Haru panicked as she rushed as she felt her face and looked at her hands. Her mask was on, and she saw her purple gloves and her pink blouse. She was still in her Phantom Thief attire. She was still in the Palace; Ren’s Palace.

A pang of emptiness echoed in her heart as familiar giggles caught her attention, Haru turning her head left to see a copy of herself and a smiling, casually dressed Ren laughing over their cakes. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. She recognised this as one of the numerous meetings she had with him during Ren’s stay in Tokyo; a recent memory to be exact, celebrating her finishing her exams with some of the best confectionery and coffee the hotel could supply. She watched as they conversed, yet barely acknowledged the heavy feeling that weighted her breaths.

“This is good.” Ren complimented, gesturing to the piping, white mug he was holding, “Good coffee, certainly not close to Sojiro’s though,”

“I don’t think there’s coffee that comes close to how Sojiro makes it.” other Haru complimented, taking a sip from her own cup, a satisfied sigh passing through her lips.

“I mean, the guy had help from a certified genius in the form of Futaba’s mom, after all,” Ren pointed out as he gently put down the mug of coffee in front of him, “Wakaba helped a lot with perfecting the stuff Sojiro currently makes… although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d discover some special coffee tricks himself.”

“Yes well, I’ve actually arranged with him some hours in Leblanc, where he’d promise to teach me some of his coffee making skills,” other Haru said, and Haru could have sworn the sinking feeling came back with more intensity.

“Oh, stealing my job now, aren’t we?” Ren jokes, and other Haru laughs, waving her hand sheepishly. Haru’s own breaths grew heavier.

“Of course not, Ren,” other Haru giggles, “But it’s certainly a good experience to gain for running my cafe. Sojiro-san is kind, patient, and has good experience with running Leblanc, so I personally think it’s appropriate to be guided by him.”

“Well, good luck.” Ren said, taking another sip from his coffee mug, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thank you!” the other Haru smiled as she took another sip from her cup, “I know I’ll sound quite absurd, but I’m so thankful that you’re so supportive of me opening my cafe. It brings me with joy knowing that I have a friend like you.”

“It’s really no problem, Haru,” Ren said, yet Haru felt otherwise with another pang of dread and stress  echoed in her chest, “I want to see all my friends succeed, and last time I checked you’re one of my friends, unless of course there’s a fight or betrayal of trust I missed the memo of participating in,”

“Ren!” other Haru gasps and Ren casually laughs at her shocked reaction.

“I’m just kidding of course,” he winks, taking a sip of coffee, earning a giggle and a hushed, playful scold from the other Haru, yet Haru could feel inside her heart that it was anything but.

The two continued to talk amongst another, Haru quietly both Ren and her past self as they chatted about all sorts of things, absentmindedly consuming the various delectable treats as they did so. It was when the other Haru gasped did they both realise that they'd run out of sweets to eat. The other Haru stood up from her seat, Ren looking at her with a perplexed expression.

"I'm thinking of grabbing more treats for myself," she said, "The Wilton hotel does have the nicest desserts don't you think? I'm thinking of getting some more of their crumpets, they go well with the jam they provide. What about you, Ren? Would you like anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Ren said, smiling at the other Haru. With a nod of understanding and a hushed 'I'll be back' the other Haru quietly wandered away from the table, and it was the first time Haru herself could see Ren noticeably relax in his seat, the smile he wore flattening into a tired frown.

She grimaces, the suffocating feeling coming back now full force within Haru as Ren stared off into the distance, his fingers rhythmically tapping the gleaming surface of the dining table he was sat at. It was a feeling of aimless dread, the feeling that Haru was acquainted with, welling up inside of her from nights staring up at her ceiling, miserable as she had no tangible control of her life as she was used as a people by her father, then again as she was suddenly thrust upon with the responsibilities of managing an entire corporation without so much of an ounce of experience or help. She remembers the dizzying feeling of being so lost with what to do, aimless and stressed and drowning in her emotions, and she remembers Ren being the one who helped her overcome the thoughts of doubts and self-loathing that came with such a huge responsibility of planning her future.

So why was she feeling this all over again? Unless…

"I'm back, sorry I took so long." other Haru apologises as she puts down her plate of treats, Ren sitting back up in his seat and smiling at her, yet Haru could now see his expression was less vibrant than before, "Some vanilla sponge cake caught my eye while I was helping myself with the crumpets, and I was deciding whether to further indulge myself or to take what I wanted, which I ended up doing of course,"

"Shame to that sponge cake," Ren said jokingly, "Left alone in the cruel world, never to be eaten by someone as sweet as it, oh the tragedy!"

"Haha, I'm sure someone will save it from this cruel world," other Haru played along, gently cutting one of the crumpets on her plate into two, "Unrelated to our conversation on sweets, but how have you been doing recently?"

Haru felt herself choke at the question, yet Ren still wore his cheery expression.

"Other than applying for universities, nothing really major," Ren said casually, and Haru felt another well of stress rising from her chest, "I really want to go to a good culinary school, but I'm also looking at drama schools as well, not that they'd accept me, but I'm hoping at least,"

"Drama? I didn't know you were interested in drama. When did this happen, Ren?" other Haru said, and Ren smiled at her.

"When I was applying, I remembered my time as Joker," he explained, his voice now hushed, yet Haru could hear him just as clearly as if the surrounding noise quieted in volume around her, "I… I really enjoyed how free I felt, and though I love cooking more than anything, I… I really want to relive that feeling, I want to be Joker again, I guess is what I'm saying, even joined the drama club as soon as I got back to Yasogami High. A lot of my friends there were shocked by the sudden change of interests almost, but I guess I never knew I had that side within me until then, haha,"

"Well, I'm sure you'll do great," other Haru said reassuringly, and all of a sudden Haru felt… doubt creep out her throat, "You're a strong and determined person Ren, I'm sure whatever you put your mind to, you'll do great!"

Though Haru knew her words of encouragement to her friend were genuine, hearing them again while alien feelings churned around her heart felt disingenuous, fake, lacking any warmth as her past self took a bite out of the crumbling pastry, "And if you need any help, I'll be here for you okay?"

Ren could not help but force a smile, and Haru felt so alone as Ren replied a small, forceful, polite "okay" to the other Haru.

---

Light consumed her vision once more, and Haru found herself back in the Empress Theatre atop the polished, wooden stage, the bright spotlight shining down upon her as she rose from her knees. She looked around the stage, seeing only herself, not even Joker who had mysteriously disappeared, likely wandering within the depths of the backstage to investigate while she was trapped in her trial.

Grabbing her axe that lay beside her, Haru noticed a peculiar object that she had not seen before. It lay in front of her, edges gleaming beautifully in the light, and she recognised it as her mask.

“Is that…” she exclaimed in bewilderment, quickly touching her face to see that yes, she did still have her mask on. She pushed herself off the floor, picking up the handle of her axe before approaching the object, grabbing it off the floor.

It was a perfect replica of her mask, down to the soft bend where it settled on the ridge of her nose. It felt light, yet fragile, Haru marvelling at the craftsmanship down to the stitching on the edges, the material shone slickly as she tilted it around, taking a closer look.

She heard familiar heels clicking gently on the polished floor, turning around to see Joker, his golden eyes looking quizzically at hers as he walked towards the thief, hands in his pockets, his coat flapping lazily in time with the sway of his steps.

“So, you’ve gotten a key,” he informed her, looking at the black mask in her hands.

“To the Fool’s Theatre, right?” she asked him, and Joker nods, smiling proudly at her achievement.

“You did great, Noir!” he smiled at her, and Haru smiled in return. She pocketed the mask before she turned to leave the stage, yet when she made her way towards the stairs Joker gently grabbed her arm.

“Joker, what’s the matter?” she asked, slightly startled by his abrupt action. Joker pulled his hand away from her, a look of intensity in his eyes before they wandered from her own down towards her hand that clutched the mask.

“Why don’t you put it on?” he said, before meeting her gaze again, his tone assertive, not really asking her but rather demanding her to put on the strange object. Haru’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would I do that?” she asked, puzzled by Joker’s peculiar suggestion, tilting her head slightly, “Is it something I have to do in addition to-”

“No, that’s not it.” Joker admitted. He looked hesitant, constantly shifting from one leg to another, looking down at the floor as he tried to find the right words to convey his thoughts.

“It’s just...” he began, his voice trailed off along with his gaze. They both snapped suddenly back towards her, “Aren’t you tired of being Haru?”

“I… I don’t understand,” Haru replied, taken aback by his strange question, “What do you mean, tired of being me’? I don’t think I can ever be tired of being ‘me’ if I’m always ‘me’ so to say,”

“I meant, are you tired of being Haru?” he clarified, “tired of the responsibilities, tired of having to hide your true self, tired of having to suppress your feelings, tired of having to force yourself to smile, to pretend, to please everyone? Don’t you want to be free of it all?”

He pointed at the mask she held beside her, “All you have to do is wear that mask, Haru. If you do, you’ll be able to finally be free.”

Haru felt uncomfortable. She couldn’t fathom why Joker would suggest such a thing to her, stepping back in almost fear, his words settling a feeling of unease in her stomach.

“I’ll be free?” she asked, yet she feared she knew what he was suggesting. Joker stepped towards her, his eyes transfixed onto hers, his expression unreadable, and Haru could feel her heart thump loudly, ringing in her ears.

“Put on the mask, Haru,” Joker insisted, his tone demanding, expecting her to do what she was told to, “Put it on. Become Noir,” he said, “Leave Haru behind,”

“Joker, you’re scaring me,” Haru squeaked, again backing away from the shadow, her grip on her axe tightening, ready to defend herself if she absolutely had to. Yet Joker did not deter from his goal. He still pursued her, his pace quickened to match the fleeing girl, and Haru felt herself on the precipice of hysterics.

“Put. On. The. Mask. Haru.” Joker demanded, his calm, polite facade dissipated, the shadow from under his mask overcasting his eyes, taking one large stride across the gap between to loom over her, “Do it, Haru. Do it!”

“No,” she mumbled, and Joker looked at her, confused.

“What?”

“I said,” she began, her voice rising, her fear evaporating, the anger in which she wielded against shadows in the Metaverse coming to her aid once more. She eyed Joker, the same defiant look he had taught her to embrace when she rebelled against her father and her unwanted fiancé, the same call to action she had felt when she had first fully awoken to her Persona now buzzed within her fingertips, “I said, no! You might be Ren’s shadow, but you are not Ren! You’re an ugly part of him, one that could grow, and fester unchecked! I don’t care if you call yourself, Joker. You are not him! You will never be him! And I will never take orders from you!”

“But, Noir!” Joker pleaded, shifting once more into his polite facade, “I’m trying to free you! To give you a better existence! To exist unchained by society! Why are you throwing this opportunity to truly live as you are!? If you join me, you and I and the others would enjoy a perfect world where we rule it. Don't you want that?!”

" I don't want to, because,” she now shouted, politeness and kindness towards the shadow replaced with scorn and fury, regaining her footing against Joker as she stood up tall, axe now at the ready, feeling Lucy pulsating within her as her Persona itched for a fight, “I’m already living as my true self, as me! You should know, Joker. It was you - no - Ren, who showed me that, showed me that I can live and exist as myself, both around my friends and in society! I don’t need to exist as Noir, because Noir is me and I am her! And your "perfect world" idea? It goes against everything we, as Noir and Haru, and as the Phantom Thieves, stand for, and you know it yourself!”

The mask in her hand suddenly began to shake violently in her grip, Haru gasped as it fell out of her grasp and onto the floor, shattering into pieces.

“No!” both shrieked as the mask shattered, shards of black spilling across the stage. Before either of them could utter a word, the pieces began to vibrate erratically on their own before erupting into dark tendrils that rose into the air. They congregate together, swirling into a ball of black before morphing into a silhouette. Suddenly, as quick as it appeared the silhouette shed the shadow that formed it to reveal a Kali.

“Haru!” Joker gasped, yet Haru ignored him completely, running towards the shadow with a battle cry, both of her hands gripping tightly on her axe as she swung it with her entire strength. Kali blocked Haru’s attack with ease with the use of its swords, pushing Haru away, the girl stumbling back on the wooden floor, yet she managed to regain her footing, taking a fighting stance once more.

“Haru, stop!” Joker begged as Haru continued to fight the shadow, yet she did not heed his words, instead continuing her assault towards the shadow. Joker attempted to step between the shadow and the girl yet stopped when Haru reached for her mask.

“Lucy!” she shouted, ripping her mask off her face, summoning her Persona in an eruption of blue flame, casting Life Wall on herself as the Kali charged towards her, Joker desperately trying to find an opening to intervene, yet the gap between them closed too quickly. The Kali took a swing, the strength of its strike immediately bouncing off the magical wall that Haru put over herself and striking the shadow instead, and the girl used the opportunity provided to take out her grenade launcher before blasting the shadow back completely.

“Noir, what are you doing!?” Joker growled at her, yet Haru paid little attention as she raised her axe, and before the shadow could react, let alone flee, she brought her blade down upon it, killing it.

“No!” Joker shrieked as the Kali dissipated from the stage, leaving a crystalline version of the mask behind, clutching his hair as he stared at the object, eyes wide and panicked, “No no no no no!”

“W... what?” Haru mumbled, blinking rapidly as she calmed down, withdrawing her axe to her side as she saw the crystal mask on the wooden floor. It had the same shape, but it now appeared crystalline, its colour purple like the gloves she currently wore. She approached the masked and crouched down looking at it curiously, yet she dared not touch it.

“Joker, w-”

“You ruined everything!” Joker screamed as he stomped on the floor, tears forming around the corners of his eyes, enraged as he looked at Haru with hatred, “My prop… my precious prop… I spent so long preparing it, making sure it would do what I wanted; I even had to ruin my statue, only for you to destroy it!”

Haru flinched each time Joker raised his voice, her sudden burst of adrenaline from the Kali fight, the drain from her trial and the uncharacteristic tantrum Joker was throwing left her kneeling on the floor, too stunned and exhausted from her trial and fight to do anything but watch as he complained incessantly about his plans. He reached into his hair, intertwining his fingers around his curly locks, mumbling frantically, and Haru could just hear him talk to himself.

“Ruined… ruined… the key… the script… fuck...” he muttered, Haru straining to hear him through her frantic heartbeat. She reached slowly for the crystal mask that lay beside her, gently brushing the smooth surface with her fingertips before she grabbed it. As she did so, Joker snapped to attention and saw the mask in her hands.

“Haru,” Joker warned, hands dropping to his sides, staring at her with a blank expression, yet his eyes followed the mask obsessively, “What are you doing?”

“I’m… I’m taking the mask,” Haru said, her voice hesitant as she stood up from the floor, Joker’s gaze still following the object.

“Hah, you are, aren’t you?” he snarled, scowling with hatred as he looked at her, golden eyes radiating hatred towards Haru, “Ruining my plans, my production, just like that? Hah, I expected nothing less...”

“Joker, please stop this-”

“No!” he screamed, and Haru jumped, her breath lurching as he laughed maniacally in restrained gasps, holding his head in his hands as he closed his eyes, “Why, why would I stop? I want to achieve my goal, Haru, something you can relate to correct? After all, I was the one who helped you gather the courage to attend that stupid Okumura Foods meeting to launch your dream in opening your little cafe,”

He raised his head to look at her, “So why did you ruin mine?”

“Joker-”

“I know why,” he started, again walking towards her, his chin held high, his grin bearing teeth as he looked down at her, “It’s because you like to ruin things, don’t you, Haru?”

“I-”

“Taking Morgana away from us, always whining about the father who treated you to an end. By the way,” he pondered for a moment, tapping his chin with a finger in mock thought, “that guy you were supposed to get married with, Sugimura. Whatever happened to him?”

“I managed-”

“-to call off the marriage, I figured as much.” Joker smiled, causing Haru further unease, “To think you’d be able to do something on your own. Never thought you’d be even capable of something like that-”

“Joker,” Haru interrupted, and Joker stopped his rant as she slowly got up to her feet, “Ren… why are you saying all of this!? What are you talking about!? What’s gotten into you?”

Joker flinched visibly at her calling his real name, as if remembering that it was indeed his own name, and he wore a sour expression.

“Why do you want to know?” he spat at her, eyes narrowing in contempt as he addressed her.

“Because, this is unlike you,” Haru said, walking slowly towards him, expression sincere and kind as she spoke, “This is not the kind, understanding, supportive leader that I got to know. Ren...”

“Then you really don’t know me at all, do you?” he chuckled dryly, shaking his head in almost disbelief, “Haru; there’s so much you don’t know about me, yet you trust me? Why?”

“Well… why wouldn’t I?” Haru asked, genuinely confused as he continued to chuckle to himself.

“I know why,” he said, “Because you are an idiot. An airheaded, spoiled idiot that wormed her way into our friend group. If it weren’t for your father, we wouldn’t have to deal with Sae, I wouldn’t have to play bait just to get back at Akechi, and we wouldn’t have to deal with the scathing backlash, only to be forgotten like just some…. Some cultural FAD!”

Each word Joker said raised his voice until he was screaming at her, and each word caused Haru to become more and more upset as Joker assaulted her with his voice, echoing across the walls of the empty hall, until Joker was huffing, a hand over his forehead, almost heaving with exhaustion, and Haru attempted to reach out for him, only for Joker to swat her hand.

“Don’t” Joker managed to gasp as he suddenly felt dizzy, the same surge of power and energy he felt when first confronting his other that boggled his mind even further. ‘Why was this happening now?’ he asked himself as he eyed Haru with malice, while the curly-haired girl looked at him with horror; worry even.

“Just go,” he growled, his words only bringing more power to his veins, Joker trying to restrain the groans that bubbled up his throat, opting instead to huddle further towards the stage floor. Haru did not know what to do. She wanted to help, eyes widened with panic as to her, Joker’s condition continued to worsen, yet a small part of her feared retribution from the shadow if she tried to help him once again.

“Joker, are you-”

“LEAVE ME.” Joker screeched; his voice boomed in unnatural volume as the walls shook violently. Haru yelped as the power surges continued in Joker’s veins, him now unable to contain himself, uttering a groan of pleasure. He looked up from his curled position to still see Haru looking at him with worry, and with another boom, he shouted, “LEAVE”.

And Haru did. There was first hesitation in her steps, but she obeyed his request, turning and running from the stage and out of the auditorium as the petals from the flowers around her shed their petals at horrifyingly unnatural speeds, leaves shrivelling up and dying, falling towards the now running, scared girl as she swore her surroundings were collapsing around her, and Joker could not help but cackle behind her at the sight of her fleeing before he hastily retreated behind the back of the stage.

---

 “What do you think they’re doing in there anyway?” Ryuji sighed, leaning back at his seat as he bounced his leg impatiently.

The rest of the Phantom Thieves sat in the booth, waiting for Haru and Joker to emerge with the mask, eager to continue with their pursuit deeper into the Palace. Some occupied themselves, Futaba typing away on her laptop, trying to ignore the detective clad in black in front of her, while Yusuke lightly sketched the Palace interior in a little notebook. However, most of them did not have such objects to distract themselves as they waited, Ryuji finding it increasingly annoying that he couldn’t connect to the Internet while in the Metaverse, Ann absentmindedly flicked through the little program Joker provided them over and over again, while Makoto and Morgana discussed their next plan of action.

“I dunno, when they’re done, I guess,” Futaba answered “I’m trying to see if I can hack into anything that’ll give us a view as to what is happening inside. Hopefully, there are cameras and a network feed of some kind that I can easily hack into,”

“And what about Senpai?” Sumire asked Futaba, who looked up from her laptop to address her.

“He’s okay,” Futaba answered, “I’ve set up some signals to track his vitals and location. Though nothing’s major’s happening now, I’ve set up alerts if there is a change in either his location or condition,”

“I doubt that any real harm would come to him,” Goro informs, and Futaba scows.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, bird brain,” she seethed in a hushed tone, Goro acting like he hadn’t heard or cared for what she said as Goro continued, “Whoever or whatever has Ren needs him alive to continue to exist of course; their existence is too intertwined with his wellbeing, and any disruption to that can cause serious harm to either the Palace or it,”

“And what do you suppose this ‘thing’ that has Ren, is? A rogue cognition?” Yusuke said, entering the conversation as he put his small sketchbook down onto the table. Goro hesitates, his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth.

“I-”

“It’s probably some rogue shadow or whatever, maybe a cog’ of his parents since they’re really strict towards Ren,” Ryuji interrupts Goro, “Nothing to worry about, we can probably take them on easy, especially with Joker on our side,”

“I wasn’t going to say-”

“Guys cut it out and stop bullying Crow,” Ann scolded both Futaba and Ryuji, “I know we have our differences and stuff, but we need all the help we can get if we’re gonna save Ren. That also means no interrupting and name-calling, okay?”

“I didn’t call him names,”

“And I didn’t interrupt him!” Both Ryuji and Futaba defended themselves, Goro sighing at the bickering thieves, barely expecting them to allow him to speak at all, retreating away from them to see Yusuke and Sumire still intently holding their attention towards him.

“So, what do you think it is, Crow?” Yusuke inquires politely, Sumire looking as though she has the same question in mind. Goro looks away from the both for a moment, trying to word his thoughts.

“Well, I don’t think you’ll like it either way,” he began, his gaze still distant and thoughtful, red eyes looking at the double doors as he allows himself to ponder for a moment, “I still don’t have any evidence myself, but. I distrust the shadow that roams here,”

“You mean Joker?” Sumire asked, and Goro nodded in response, “But why, Crow-senpai?”

“I’m not one to question gut feelings, but why do you suspect his shadow?” Yusuke queried Goro, “He’s been doing nothing but helping us so far. The shadow is the true self is it not? If Joker is acting kind, can’t we suspect that he is kind in turn?”

“I don’t want to appear as being crass but: I have a feeling that Joker’s hiding things from you all,”

Everyone within earshot stopped abruptly with their prior conversations, Makoto and Morgana pausing from their discussion, Ann interrupted from her scolding of Ryuji and Futaba, all of them turning to face Goro in stunned silence, some with their mouths agape.

“Joker’s… lying to us?” Ann questioned Goro carefully, eyes unnaturally wide under her mask, “A-are you sure!?”

“Are you sure about that?” Ryuji interrogated Goro, leaning forward, looking at him with suspicion, “I mean, we are his friends, and we’ve known him way longer than you,”

“Yes, I know,” Goro gasped quickly, “But I have an uneasy feeling that he’s lying to you a-”

“Joker would never lie to us,” Futaba snapped at him angrily, the thieves flinching as she hissed at Goro with such uncharacteristic anger and boldness, “He would never! You’re just, just trying to get us to not trust him, aren’t you?!”

“Oracle, I-”

“No, you shut up, this is Ren we’re talking about,” Futaba hissed, her hands curling into fists as she glared at Goro under her goggles, “He would never lie to us! He would never! You don’t know him! You tried to kill him!”

“Futaba-”

“Shu-”

The Palace abruptly trembled, the chandeliers above rattled violently, vases shattering, cognitive patrons screaming as the Phantom Thieves sprang from their seats, with a quick order from Makoto, they all dived under the small table as their surroundings shook.

“What’s going on?!” Ann cried out as she tried her best to retreat underneath the table, pulling Ryuji in as he clumsily fell forward, “Why is the Palace shaking?!”

“I don’t know, but I do know that something’s happening to Ren,” Futaba informs them, voice barely audible shaking from the tremors and her fear as her laptop beeps noisily in her lap.

“Oracle, what’s wrong!?” Sumire screamed as the tremors worsened, Futaba scrambling to look at her laptop, typing away at the keyboard as her eyes darted around the screen.

“It’s Ren!” she replied, “I don’t know what’s happening to him, but-”

Haru stumbles out from the double doors, her expression one of haste and panic, and fast as the tremors came the Palace suddenly stood still. The cowering Phantom Thieves paused as Haru fell onto the carpeted floor in a daze, lying on her side and breathing heavily, clutching her axe alongside an object in her hands. One they suspected that the reason why the quake that had hit the Palace had passed, they each emerged from under the table, excluding Futaba, who was still working away on her laptop.

“Noir! Haru, are you okay?!” Morgana exclaims as he rushes towards the fallen girl, paws glittering with green healing magic, ready to aid her, “What happened in there?! Where’s Joker?!”

“Joker...” Haru mumbles, her expression downcast at the mention of their missing friend, her eyes fixated on the carpet floor, her fingers curling with reflex. She closed her eyes temporarily, feeling suddenly, very, very tired, and she could physically feel bags forming under her eyes.

“Haru, what’s wrong?” Ann asked the girl, too occupied with worrying about her friend’s help to use their allocated codenames, swooping down to her level, kneeling alongside Morgana on the carpeted floor, “You look tired, take it easy okay?”

Haru slowly nods, as if the gesture was a Herculean task on its own, acknowledging Ann’s words as she allowed herself to be assisted by the red-wearing girl. Ann approached Haru, sliding an arm around her back, slinging Haru’s arm around her neck before lifting her up by the shoulders.

“Haru, I’m sorry if I agitate you further, but may I inquire about the glittering object you’re holding in your grasp?” Yusuke asked, pointing at the shiny purple object in the hand that slung around Ann’s shoulders.

“Just… take it,” Haru slurred, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to stay awake, her energy quickly draining as she stood there, “Please, I feel...”

Yusuke nodded, catching the crystalline object as Haru dropped it, Ryuji running by her side, helping Ann up as Haru looked as though she was about to lose consciousness, her skin flushing white.

“Is that?” Sumire gasps as Yusuke observes what he assumed to be a key Joker mentioned earlier, “Is that Noir’s mask?”

“Whatever it is, it’s definitely a key,” Futaba said, having already scanned the object in their hands with Al Azif, “It’s resonating with the door on the topmost floor, no doubt the same one that leads to the Fool’s Theatre,”

“While I do want to discuss additional things, I suggest we first get Noir out of here,” Makoto commands the others, “She is in no fighting condition, and if we were faced with another ambush like we did earlier, with Joker missing, we would be in an especially vulnerable position,”

“But, Ren-”

“We can’t go on, Skull,” Makoto shakes her head, “As much as I want to rush ahead in order to save Ren, we need to let Noir rest and regather her strength. We have plenty of time, Ren is a strong person, and we can strategize what to do next back in the real world, but for now, we need to retreat, okay?”

Ryuji opens his mouth to argue, a force look burned in his eyes, yet when he looked at Makoto’s stern, uncompromising expression he closed his mouth. He visibly winced, attempting to argue with their leader, but when he looked upon Haru’s pale, sickly face he realised that Makoto had a point.

“Okay, Queen,” he sighed defeatedly, before gesturing to Ann to follow him out of the Palace. She nodded, and while carefully supporting Haru they made their way down the stairs towards the grand foyer.

“As for the mask,” she turns to the rest of the thieves that remained in the Metaverse, “Oracle and Mona, you should hold onto the mask for the time being since you’re close to the meetup spot. I’m sure Skull and Panther would escort Noir back home just fine. As for the rest of you, we’ll discuss our next meeting session when Noir feels better and regains her strength, and Oracle and Crow; please stay behind for a bit, I need to discuss possible methods of communication between us all, if that’s okay,”

Futaba and Morgana nod in agreement, Yusuke handing the object to the girl as he leaves, Sumire giving the remaining thieves a tiny wave as they both exit the Palace.

“You aren’t leaving, Mona?” Futaba questions the cat, noticing him standing vigilantly between her and Goro.

He gives a nod and a smile. “I made a promise to Ren that if anything were to happen to him, I would be there to protect you,” he explained, Futaba giving him a puzzled look, “I mean, he didn’t, but he implied it, and that’s good enough for me,”

“Anyway,” Makoto coughed, grabbing the attention of all three of them, “Oracle, how easy is it for you to make sure our chats and calls are secure?”

  --

  The foyer of the top floor was empty compared to the rest of the building, no cognitions of people or ushers holding shadows alike wandered along the red-carpeted floor of the foyer in front of the most important auditorium in the Palace: the Fool’s Theatre.

Two red doors stood vigilant, surrounded by smooth black walls of marble, veins of gold running through the stone as red curtains hung along it, potted plants sprouting tall, green shrubs sparsely decorated the room, a golden chandelier hung in the middle, glittering beautifully in the surrounding light.

Joker emerged from the elevators that hugged the wall next to the stairs, hands casually in his pockets, having escaped the Empress Theatre he made his way back into his own. He strides across the room with long steps towards the doors, grabbing its golden handle, yet paused to inspect the velvet that decorated them. Cavities that held the keys to the theatre, won by the trials all the thieves had to face stayed empty, Joker brushing a gloved hand to where Haru’s mask would have been slotted in, before pulling the door open, it obeying its rightful master and allowed him entry, the lights of the auditorium shuttering dramatically to life.

Bathed in golden luminosity, the interior of his beloved hall glittered wonderfully in his eyes. Black, pristine leather seats lined each row along with red carpet decorated in a faint checkered pattern, golden walls and columns accenting the room and balconies, leading up to the beautiful mural that reminisced Yusuke's interpretation of Desire and Hope, brought to life as colours swirled and shifted and radiated above the grand, obsidian chandelier that dangled below it. He made his way down among the row of seats, his footsteps padded on the carpet, and with one quick motion he shot out his grappling hook, zipping across the air, before landing perfectly onto the wooden performance space.

Retracting the grappling hook and tucking his hands casually in his pockets, Joker retreated under the towering, black and gold curtains of the stage as he headed towards his dressing room.

The door to his sanctuary was located at the end of the otherwise bleak hallway, the red velvet shining against blank white doors, his name on a star-shaped door plate made of gold. He reached for the doorknob, twisting it, a soft ‘click’ echoing in the hallway as he pushed it open.

His dressing room was as luxurious as the theatre it was housed in, red and blacks decorated each crevice, white and gold accenting countertops and tables and door edges, expensive platters of food, bottles of drink, and electronics scattered across the room, all with a marble floor, gold veins accenting cracks between the rock. In the middle room, a black leather seat faced a large screen TV that was nestled comfortably within the wall, two beautifully velvet lined doors stood next to each other, leading to his bedroom and ‘office’ respectively. Closing the door behind him, Joker ignored all the temptations surrounding him completely, instead wandering towards the back of the room, where a single door lay forgotten, untouched by the same opulence which adorned its surroundings. A gloved hand on the doorknob, he twisted, flinging it open with gusto, flooding the dark monitor room with light.

“Bonjour mon invité, je suis de retour!” he called, laughing as he reached for Ren’s chair, grabbing it before he spun around to his other’s scow, Ren’s face illuminated by artificial, flickering lights. Ren did not reply, he did not want to give the satisfaction that he knew his shadow craved, yet Joker noticed his glistening wet cheeks, taking upon himself to inspect Ren’s face by suddenly grabbing his chin, his other’s eyes astonished as Joker inspected him.

“Ren, what happened to you?” Joker cooed, yet his tone lacked any real concern or warmth as he tilted Ren’s head, inspecting the glistening streaks of tears on his face, “Why did you cry? Do my plays not bring you joy?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ren hissed as he jerked his head away from Joker’s grasp, feeling more disgusted and sicker the closer his shadow got to him, “Don’t touch me, don’t you dare touch me,”

Joker withdrew his hand back at Ren’s sudden outburst, feigning surprise at Ren’s rebellious attitude towards him, “I’m safe to assume that your tears are the result of the performances I put on for you, or perhaps from me interacting with your friends?”

“Whatever your plan is, leave them out of it,” Ren fumed, pulling on the restraints that bounded his hands, “They’ve got nothing to do with this place. I’m clearly the one you want, and I suspect you’d want to keep it that way,”

“I do,” Joker muses, “But I also want them. You see, Ren, I’ve clearly invited them here, not to steal your heart, but to save them from themselves, from this Hellish society that we all live in-”

“And you’re doing that by insulting them and brainwashing them?”

“I… didn’t mean to say those things to Haru,” Joker confessed, “But she left me no choice. If she wasn’t going to join us, I had to drive her out, I had to push her away, so she wouldn’t interfere with us, you understand right? I know you do, because you’re me,”

“I’m not you,” Ren spat, though he knew deep down his shadow was right, the words he uttered to Haru were his, thoughts he kept deep within his heart, yet he tried anyway to deny the manifestation of his darkest thoughts and feelings around him, “I’m not you,” he cried, “I’m not you,”

“But I am you,” Joker said plainly, raising his neck above to look down on Ren, both to dominate and to allow him to accommodate the intoxicating surge of power that again surged his veins, “I am thou, and I will see my - our - plan to its conclusion. Because you know why,”

“Because-”

“Because I get things done.” Joker stated, interrupting Ren as he snarled with superiority, “I always get things done. You. You get nothing done. I always do, I will succeed in our plan, I will see my play come to its intended conclusion, and I WILL get our friends to our side, so we can finally get what we deserve,”

“You won’t, because the others will stop you,” Ren said, though he quickly knew he was losing his argument the further Joker’s amused grin twitched wider, “They’ll save me, they’ll change my heart, they’ll-”

Ren choked a sob, Joker’s eyes widened abruptly, and the shadow stumbled back, clutching the red fabric of his waistcoat tightly, crashing into the wall behind him as he gasped.

It was another surge, more powerful than before, Joker groaned as his head spun, dizzying sensations clutched his consciousness as his eyesight blurred, tears welling up the corners of his eyes, and he could feel his heart twist in his chest. It was the same feeling he’d experience with Haru, the same sensations he felt taunting his other, yet as he looked at the horrified expression Ren had on his face with forgotten tears freshly streaking his face did he finally realise where these sensations came from.

Joker laughed as the surge fizzled away as fast as it had arrived as he sat on the floor, lying against the wall as he looked at Ren who was dumbfounded by what he just had witnessed. Joker allowed himself to relax before he clambered back onto his feet, the surge leaving him a shaky mess as he supported himself with a hand on the wall. He took a minute for himself gathering his breaths as he slumped against the wall, all the while Ren observed him with perplexed, fearful eyes.

“Hah, what a revelation,” Joker exclaimed breathlessly, straightening his posture and turning to Ren, “To think we learned something about the Metaverse during our chats, and I thought Mona had told us everything,”

“You’re insane, you really are,”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t describe myself as such,” Joker shrugged, “Then again, I’m-”

“Don’t say it,”

“Then don’t make me,” Joker laughs before turning towards the exit, a hand resting on the doorknob, “Anyway, I’ll make sure to get you some water so you don’t dehydrate yourself, and in something that you can’t easily smash or use to spill onto the controls,” he added, “I’m not an idiot.”

With his last remark, Joker closed the door behind him, leaving Ren alone with the numerous screens, some of them empty, some of them with plays that played repeatedly, and some of them looping footage of Haru’s saddened expression, of his friends, fighting and bickering. He closed his eyes, trying to drown the incessant chatter that surrounded him.

But he had hope. Hope for his friends in reaching him, hope that he was able to hold his sanity together, hope that they’d change his heart, that they’ll persevere, that they’ll be able to fight through whatever his twisted Palace had in store for them, and whatever Joker had prepared for them.

Because, he knew he had to, or allow his twisted heart to consume him entirely.

FLOWER MEANINGS Sunflower - Respect, Passionate Love, Radiance. Iris - Good News,Glad Tidings, Loyalty Gentle - Gentle. Daffodil - Respect. Carnation - Fascination, Distinction, and Love Anemone - Protection from evil, Forsaken, Expectations. White Rose - Innocence, Silence, Devotion. Narcissus - Self-Esteem Cyclamen and Sweet Pea - Resignation, Good-bye. Lotus -  Purity, Chastity. Marigold - Grief, Despair, Jealousy / God’s Perfect Light. Red Spider Lily - Never to meet again, Lost memory, Abandonment TRANSLATE Bonjour mon invité, je suis de retour - Hello my guest, I have returned.

[debiteful]

I have a request! How about a pred that somehow convinces their prey to give themselves willingly to the pred to eat knowing that it’s a fatal situation. Whether that’s hypnosis or the pred convincing the prey to accept their place in the circle of life I’ll let you decide. I imagine this with a big size difference. Thanks!

Content: owl pred, mouse prey, soft vore, digestion, fatal vore, minor excretion (pellet, I'm too much of a nerd to ignore that lol)

On silent wings Houston flew above the starlit fields. The silver sliver hanging in the sky hardly gave off any light; a perfect night for him to hunt. 

A rustle down below caught his attention. He tilted his head one way and the other as he circled the area far above. It wasn't hard at all to pinpoint the poor rodent's location.

With the slightest tilt of his wings, the owl descended. His wide loop soon became a straight dive. His prey's heartbeat pounded in his ears and moments later there was a shrill shriek as his talons wrapped around that small furry body. A few powerful strokes took him back into the night sky. 

He made his way back to the hollow he called home and dropped the stunned critter onto the edge of his nest. The light brown field mouse lay limply for a few moments then scrambled to its feet and bolted for the back of the hollow. Houston hopped after it, letting a sharp talon land just above its tail to pin it where it stood. A few small squeaks of exertion escaped before it twisted around and clutched at the claw, trying to move it. When that failed, it cried out, "Please don't eat me!"

The owl tipped his feathered head, large yellow eyes boring into his prey, "Whoo?"

The mouse rolled its beady eyes, "Oh fine play dumb and tear me apart then!"

He gave the uppity rodent a peck between the ears, plucking some fur. He could hear each fiber tear from the follicle, a soft sound above the continuous thud of the poor thing's heart. "I simply couldn't believe a scrap of prey like you would dare speak out against an apex predator like me. So, who are you to do so?" He slowly lifted his claw up.

Immediately they scurried forward, but had now reached the seamless back of the hollow with nowhere to go. It clutched its tail to its chest and sat back on its haunches. Its ears and whiskers quivered terribly, but it made a noble effort to speak, "W-Well I'm a living creature, just like you! I have a right to live."

"But so do I, do I not?"

"I mean yeah, but that doesn't depend on the ending of my life!"

Now he tilted his head the other way, almost upside down; it was a delight to hear every tiny sound seemingly shift in space with each movement of his own head. "Sure it does. I need energy to love same as you. Do you argue with the grass and trees as you take their seeds and fruit? Do you consider the other animals you chase from your lands?"

"Well, no, but that's still not killing them."

"It could one way or another. Now, do you propose I don't kill you and simply take a part of you? Perhaps a leg or your tail?" He nipped at its forepaw, scratching it with the tip of his beak. That earned a yelp. "Hmm? What's wrong now? Isn't this what you want?"

"No!"

"Oh would you rather it was not you whoo was eaten, but instead your wee offspring? End the lives of your own seeds?"

"Oh that's even worse!"

"Yet it's what you do to the plants to survive."

"But there are so many more," it pleaded desperately.

"There are hundreds, if not thousands of mice out there too! Whoo are you to step from the circle of life? Whoo are you to be exempt?"

"I… I don't know," it flopping down and quivering. "Maybe you should just eat me," it wailed. "I'm far too proud to make it in this world."

"I'll say," Houston hooted with a small measure of amusement. "If you're so sure that you want to serve your place, that you want to give yourself over to me for sustainable, then alright."

He pressed his foot against their narrow chest, wicked pointed claws curling around the rest of its body. That heartbeat picked up once more, fluttering at the ribs containing it. He leaned in to take the first bite, only to hear, "Wait! Just wait. Um, could you maybe spare me the pain of being torn apart."

Houston considered, not responding with words. Instead, he flicked the morsel into the air and caught them in his beak. His little tongue pushed at their body, feeling the heartbeat that fluttered inside his head. It was rare for him to take prey like this, swallowing them down still squirming and alive. 

For its part, the mouse didn't plead or struggle very much at all. It couldn't completely relax of course, and its legs kicked reflexively against Houston's throat muscles as they squished him down. 

While the little mouse slid into his stomach, the owl got comfortable in his nest. His night's hunting had been successful, he got a small conversation, and now a little belly rub for his trouble. 

Indeed, though it had given itself over, the mouse couldn't help but writhe as the owl's weak acid ate away at its flesh. Each convulsive movement massaged the inner walls, which only made them flex against the unfortunate food all the more.

As Houston dozed off, his stomach was hard at work, taking in all the nutrients from his little meal. Once the mouse had given as much usefulness as possible, what little remained traveled onward into the gizzard. Within that muscular organ the rodent's bones and fur was packed together. It felt like no more than a hiccup around midday for Houston to be rid of the remnants of his prey. It wasn't much of a burial, but that was the way of life for these creatures.