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Midnight Encounter, 1 A.M Chat!

Summary:

“Hm? Who are you?” a deep voice rumbles, as if you’re the one walking around a dorm that's not yours in the middle of the night.

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MC's first encounter with Malleus (from Chapter 2-14), extended! I promise, it's funnier than it sounds.

Notes:

First twst fic, written in 3 days and posted at 3:30 in the morning, whoo!
Will I write more for this game? Who knows!!

As a disclaimer, I don't speak or read Japanese, so dialogue I've gotten from the game is through fan translations, with some of my special editing touch! ;-P I've been watching Shel_BB's translations on YouTube, but the twst tumblr page is also an amazing resource. I'll be sure to include links in the end notes!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

You step outside, shivering against the sudden chill of the wind. It could be worse, though; the breeze can’t match the icy hollowness under your sternum when you think about how far you are from home. It's not as if you don't like it here—you do, even though you're mostly being dragged around by fate and new friends—but you miss your family, and your mobages, and everything else that you never thought you'd need to take for granted.

You rub your hands up and down your arms, trying to smooth the goosebumps away. The steps of the dorm are crumbling, just like everything else, and you have to watch your step to keep from tripping in the dark. It could be a metaphor, but you’re just trying to tire yourself out and you don’t feel like solving a situational puzzle.

You’ve never toured the grounds of the “ramshackle dorm”, seeing as it’s a barely standing piece of junk not worth glancing at most days (you whisper your apologies to the dorm just in case it has ears or something; if the paintings can talk who fuckin’ knows about these buildings). But, it’s not as if you have anything better to do now, so you set along the stone path. It forks near the bottom of the large lawn, with the left fork going to the gate and the right going who-knows-where, so you’re thinking of following that one—

You nearly bowl someone over—ah, that’s a person!—in the midst of you muttering to yourself. They don’t seem perturbed at all, whereas you’re reeling from the impact.

“Hm? Who are you?” a deep voice rumbles, as if you’re the one walking around a dorm that’s not yours in the middle of the night.

Your first thought is that the guy is a ghost, but the ghosts in this place look...pretty distinctive. Also, you did bump into him, which you have yet to do with the ghosts (unless they’re feeling like assholes).

You take in the young man’s form with night-adjusted eyes. He’s taller than you, that’s for sure. Flawless pale complexion; long, dark hair; cute little elf ears: guy’s got a lot going for him, and a sweet pair of horns curl up from his head as the icing on the six-foot-something cake. The accent color on his uniform is a shocking electric green (heh, nice pun, you). God, what dorm is green? It feels like forever since you learned their names...

“Well, this is a surprise. You are a child of man, are you not?”

No shit, Sherlock, you think as you nod dumbly. What else would you be the child of? Does he see any adorable pointy ears or rad horns on you? You’re not even one of those half-furries you’ve seen around. Plus, the entirety of Heartslabyul doesn’t seem to have any weird...additions; are humans really so uncommon that he feels the need to ask?

He waits for a moment, and you realize too late he’s waiting for you to say something. Damn, you are being really awkward right now. But can you be blamed for not being conversation-ready at god-knows-what-time-it-is? You don’t think so.

“Do you live here?” He looks towards the decaying structure behind you. “This building has been abandoned for a long while. I'd been quite fond of it as a place I could be left alone.”

You mean to give him a courteous and appropriate response, like Ah, yes, I do currently reside within this historic building. I apologize for ridding you of what was surely a safe space for you to release your no doubt complex emotions. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of questions bouncing around in your head, and the one that slips past your brain-to-mouth filter is, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

You wince. His bright green eyes widen almost comically; you can see that his pupils are slits like a reptile’s. Freaky. Is there a snake dorm here or something?

“Who am...? You don't know who I am?” His eyes get even wider, if that’s possible. “Truly?”

You shake your head. You don’t even think you’ve seen this guy in passing on the school’s main campus.

“Hmmmm. Is that so?,” he muses. “That is...exceedingly rare.” He comes out of his thoughts with a smile you’d cautiously call mischievious. “Well, what should I call you?”

You give him your name, your voice nearly catching in the back of your throat. Despite his polite demeanor, you can feel some sort of energy radiating off of him, like he could destroy everything around you if the urge struck. “I’m the head of this dorm,” you say, and barely restrain yourself from adding air quotes around the word “dorm.”

He repeats your name back slowly, the syllables flowing over his tongue and sharp canines. “What a peculiar name. I'm...” He stops, and closes his mouth, giving you a thin smile. “Actually, no, I'm not going to tell you. Not knowing is for your own benefit.”

You tilt your head, confused, and the smile he gives you then is a promise of violence. “The moment you hear my name, a frost will creep over your skin.”

Uh, is this guy trying to freak you out? Because 1) it’s working, and 2) he didn’t have to tell you that his name evokes soul-deep fear for you to be wary of him: the horns and the teeth and the snake eyes and the everything was already doing more than enough.

He smirks at the look on your face. “For your ignorance, as an exception, I'll allow you to call me whatever you'd like. Though you may come to regret that one day.”

A list of things you’d like to call him springs to mind, all of which are not safe for a teen-rated fanfiction, but you decide against them. You did just meet, uh, Horns McGee here, and you’re still pretty sure he could vaporize you or some other equally OP shit if you make the mistake of breathing wrong. Better not to test him with a witty quip.

“Nevertheless,” he sighs, “if there are people living here now it means this abandoned building is no longer abandoned. What a shame. I’ll have to find another quiet place for my nightly strolls. I bid you adieu.” 

“Wait!” you call, as the air around Electric Green Beanpole heats noticably holy shit is he doing that with magic? Was he about to poof himself across campus with magic??? You immediately regret calling out to him—what do you even have to say to him?—but he doesn’t seem bothered.

“Before you go, could I...walk with you?” Alright, strong start. “I think it might help me get back to sleep.”

He gives you a soft smile. “If that’s what you wish.”

You start walking back towards the dorm as you think about how nice this magical Hot Topic model is being to you. He’s being so nice, even though you’ve just met, and you can’t help being suspicious. The people here certainly can be nice, and often are, but you’ve learned that they’re all hiding some unsavory part of them just under the surface: the conniving, the controlling, the straight-up douchiness. There’s no use thinking too hard on it, though; not like you’ll have the time to discover all his secrets tonight.

“Can’t remember the last time I went on a walk with someone,” you say to yourself. You’re usually pretty busy, what with school and...more school. When you do go on walks, you usually go by yourself. You know, like you were planning on doing before you ran into Fantasy Dominatrix over here.

He hums his agreement. “I find myself alone more often than not, as well.”

“Because of the whole ‘the mention of my name brings armies to their knees’ thing?”

He actually snickers a little at that: score! “Something of that nature, yes. I do not think I would be remiss in saying that much of the student body is terrified of me.”

“Sounds like they haven’t taken a 1 a.m. walk with you, then,” you reply. “You haven’t given me a reason to be scared of you yet.”

“I don’t believe I give anyone a reason to be afraid of me. I simply do as I please, and people choose to fear me,” he says, which does not bode well for this guy’s track record. “Rather, it is my power they fear. It has kept me mostly isolated. There are very few I allow close to me, who I trust will not take advantage of my abilities or attempt to sabatoge me. It can be...lonely.”

You snort self-deprecatingly. “I dunno about the power thing, but the lonely thing is a little too relatable. I’m living in a secondhand dorm with only a fire-cat-demon-tanuki-thing to keep me company right now.” You throw up a depressed peace sign, which seems to confuse your conversation partner.

“It’s pretty cool that I’m being allowed to stay here as half a student until I can get back home, but I can’t even do anything while I’m here because I’m not magic.” You kick at the ground. “I don’t feel it all the time, but there’s definitely a lot of distance between me and the people here because of that. I just...can’t understand what it’s like for them.”

Teenage Trickster God eyes you as you round the corner together. “You can’t use magic?”

You almost stop. “Uh, yeah? I—” you laugh awkwardly. “I kinda thought that was common knowledge around here. Totally non-magic dude, dragged here from a completely different world with few memories of how I arrived, ruined the Magic Mirror’s 100-year streak? That was all me.”

He nods with his brows furrowed, as if he’s hearing it for the second time. “I’m afraid I don’t keep up too much with the campus-wide drama.”

You nod. Too busy brooding in your tower?, you think, but you don’t say that because that would be super rude to a person you literally just met , oh my god. Is Ace rubbing off on you or something? You could’ve sworn you were not this rude to people before, not even in your mind.

“What is it like?”

“Hm?”

“Not being able to use magic.” He tilts his head, the moonlight breaking around his horns. His eyes are shining. “What is it like?”

Your face scrunches up. You feel like you’re being asked by a gazillionaire about the “rustic charm” of being dirt poor, except the gazillionare is genuinely curious and probably not as old and crusty as normal gazillionaires.

“Uh, pretty boring, I guess? Not that you need magic where I’m from, because nobody’s magic there, we just use different types of technology for everything. There are, like, people who do magic, but most of it’s just sleight of hand, although there are some people who pull off some crazy stuff—” holy shit is Criss Angel magic? Like, real magic? What about that Troy guy?? And the dude from Death by Magic is he—??? Have you been living among magic folk all your life and never knew it????

You blink and Witchy Boy Wonder is five paces ahead of you, looking back worriedly. “Are you alright?”

You shake yourself out of your crisis. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, I just...” You jog back up to him. “I’m just thinking about my world. It’s so different from here. The learning curve has been kinda steep, even if there are similarities between the two places.”

“Do you have any idea when you’ll be able to return home?”

You think back to Crowley stuttering his way through excuses when you asked him whether he’d figured out a way for you to get back. After his whole speech about you possibly being a rare “beast tamer” for capricious magicians, you’re honestly not sure if he’s even trying to send you back at this point. Stupid bird principal.

“It’s looking like never, at this rate, but we’re working on it!” You give a weak laugh. “If you ever feel like lending me some of that all-powerful shazam you’ve got up your sleeves in the meantime”—you do a couple hand bursts like you’re shooting lightning from your palms—“you just hit me up. I’d love to be able to use magic.”

"You're quite odd, you know," he says.

“Yeah, I know.” You nod sagely. “Is it throwing you off?”

“Not at all. I find the idiosyncrasies of my classmates quite intriguing.”

As you round the building back to the front of your dorm, your mouth opens in a yawn that a lion (or perhaps a lion half-furry with a penchant for napping) would be envious of. Just like that, all the tiredness you should’ve had when you walked out of the dorm comes rushing in, and you rub at your streaming eyes.

“And the siren finally begins her song,” he says, as you yawn again.

“Something like that,” you say, and stifle another incoming yawn because now it’s getting ridiculous. “I’d offer to walk you back, but...” You finish with a shrug.

“How chivalrous of you to offer. Perhaps I’ll take you up on it one day,” he lilts, and is he being coy with you? Okay, Tall Dark and Horny, you see him. “I wish you a good night.”

The air heats up again, and he disappears with only a few magic sparkles as proof he was ever there. On the wind you catch a whisper of sweet dreams.

You yawn your way back into the dorm, and crawl into bed. In a second of pre-sleep clarity, you realize that you never actually settled on something to call him, and in the next second you’re out like a sixteen-year-old boy crushed by a cauldron.


The last remnants of another strangely portentous dream fade, and your eyes focus on Grimm’s fire-cat-demon-tanuki-thing face and how it’s way too close to you.

“Finally, you’re awake! Took you long enough!” He crosses his paws indignantly. “We’re gonna miss breakfast if you don’t get up!”

“Why didn’t you just leave without me?” you grumble, wanting to duck back under your covers but also not wanting Grimm to burn them off of you. “I would’ve caught up.”

“The great Grimm would never leave his sidekick behind!” Oh, so you’ve been upgraded from a servant to a sidekick? What an improvement. Even so, you appreciate the wake-up call. You are in the middle of a very important investigation, after all.

With Grimm snapping at your heels, you hastily get dressed and begin heading towards the cafeteria.

“By the way, did you go somewhere last night? I got up to pee and you weren’t in bed,” Grimm asks, looking at you with what can only be described as ferocious curiosity.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” you reply, “but while I was out, I ran into a guy I’ve never seen before. Green uniform, horns. He was....” You think back to your encounter with Handsome Horns. “He was pretty weird.”

“Weird!” Grimm agrees. “What was the guy’s name?”

“He wouldn’t say. He told me to call him whatever I wanted but...” you shrug. “I didn’t really know what to do. How do you name a person you just met?”

“Why don’t you call him Tsunotaro?” Grimm suggests, making horns on either side of his ears. “Better than nothing, right?”

You hum, thinking about how hilarious it would be if you called the guy “Tall Dark and Horny” the next time you saw him. Then again, he might magic you out of existence if you pulled that shit, so playing it safe and calling him Tsunotaro might be for the best.

“You said he had a uniform, right? So he’s a student?” Grimm asks. “If we run into him, you better introduce me, got it? I’ve never even seen a guy with horns on his head before! And you just ran into one going out for a late-night walk?!”

“Hiya, hiya, good morning!” Cater’s cheery voice calls, interrupting your thoughts of Emo Antel—wait, no, Tsunotaro, you have an acceptable nickname for him now.

Riddle and Cater meet you halfway and Riddle is on you immediately, pulling at your crooked clothing. He's very mother-hennish, when he’s not being incredibly scary or incredibly cute.

Grimm darts around the legs of the Heartslabyul dorm members. "Where're Ace and Deuce?" 

“Spade and Trappola are currently feeding the flamingos while wearing pink clothes, as dictated by the Queen of Hearts' 249th rule.” Riddle says, somehow with a straight face. You, on the other hand, might lose it at the mental image: two of your closest friends at Night Raven, in neon pink suspenders or something equally silly, trying to wrangle a bunch of indignant tropical birds.

“We learned this morning that another person was injured, sometime last night.”

That sobers you up.

“My info says the injured kid's a second year from Scarabia: Jamil Viper.” Cater pulls at his hair. “Some kinda kitchen accident, I think? We should def ask about it.”

Riddle nods briskly. “We still have time before breakfast ends, so we may be able to find this Viper sooner rather than later. Come.”

Riddle regally leads the way, and you have no choice but to follow, all thoughts of the stranger Tsunotaro pushed from your mind for now.

Notes:

Kudos and comments are always appreciated :-) Thank you so much for reading and (as always) I hope you enjoyed the story!
I fucking love this game so goddamn much!!! Malleus is not one of my top twst boys (I am a Leech whore first, an ♡♤ shipper second, and a person third) but all the characters are so lovely that I don't mind losing sleep to write about Maleficent's grandbaby.

Links!:
Shel_BB's channel, if you'd like to watch the twst episodes w/translations
unofficial-twstd's blog, if you'd like to read the translations and get all sorts of helpful tips

talk to me on twitter!