#kris drabble

[not-a-bot-just-blind]

Pretty description of Kris Dreemurr’s eyes because I had nothing better to do

Their dark hair often shaded their face. It was something that everyone around them had grown used to. For a brief stint, their mother had tried to encourage them to tie their hair back. Her ideas were subtleish, but also still more obvious than they could have been. Buying ribbons for them, asking them what’d happened to their old headband, teaching them how to towel wrap their hair when it was wet to keep it off of their neck and shoulders.

Eventually though, she’d given up on it, well aware of the fact that they could see—pun acknowledged—right through each attempt. They supposed she liked to see their eyes because they were the one part of her child that even slightly resembled her. Everything else though?

Even if they weren’t a human being raised by monsters, the differences would have been obvious. Their mother and brother had white hair, while their father’s was the color of the buttercups he often grew in his shop. Theirs was dark brown with the barest hinting of red undertones. Their family’s fur was white, and their skin was soft beige. Their parents both towered over even most other monsters, and their brother wasn’t far behind. Meanwhile, they hadn’t even reached 5.5 feet yet.

But their eyes?

Perhaps the resemblance was part of the reason why they kept them hidden. Not to separate themself from their family, but to keep that small part for themself. To tuck it into their heart like a secret note passed between friends in class. The warm, fierce carmine seemed inhuman, if only slightly, and that single word had ingrained itself in their brain from the first moment they heard it.

Most humans, they’d read online once, had one of four eye colors. Blue, green, hazel or brown. Colors like black, gray, amber and violet were rare, and ones like white, pink and red were nearly unheard of. That was something they liked about themself physically. It distinguished them just enough so that they could feel that they even slightly belonged.

In the Dark Worlds too, they’d found out. Whether it be in Castle Town, Card Kingdom or Cyber City, their eyes never changed. Always bright, always fierce, always red. Always theirs.

It was something they had control over too.

Most things these days remained outside of their hands, including those very hands. Their back often ached from the ramrod straight posture they were made to hold, their expression most often resembled a blank, emotionless mask, and they found themself running often despite never having been especially athletic. From their hair to their soles, their body seemed often to belong to somebody else, to that thing, that heart, that tried to make them resent the color of the one thing about themself that they liked.

They were stubborn though, and the creature knew it. They would not be stripped of themself completely. Each thing they could do on their own, they did. They made overly emotional speeches, they protected their friends, they jumbled the charms on a letter bead bracelet. They closed their eyes to not see Asriel’s room, they forced out confidence that didn’t exist when they were made to flirt, they tried to bully the puppet master into letting them eat moss.

And their eyes stayed covered.

The one thing that Kris Dreemurr liked about themself would remain theirs.

[relic-seeker]

anytime i want to feel anything i just listen to the pure vessel fight theme

[krirebr]

Good moaning. 😇 Third time is the charm. 😉

Alright, Navy, let's do this! I've been awake for about 5 minutes, so bear with me.

Part One and Part Two

Written on my phone, unedited.

Warnings: explicit language

"Ransom!" You yelled as you got out of your car, slamming the door behind you. "Ransom, you fucking asshole, I hope you're happy!"

The door opened to his stupid glass house, and he glared at you from the doorway. "What the fuck? This is a nice neighborhood, ok? Get in here and stop screaming on my lawn."

He stood aside as you barreled into his home, absolutely seething. You rounded on him as you stood in the middle of his open-plan first floor. "You win, ok?? You fucking win. It's over."

He was keeping his distance, seemingly able to tell that even you weren't sure how you'd react if he got any closer. You watched him take in your nice dress, the pearls around your neck, the way you’d done your hair. "What exactly did I win?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

"He proposed, ok? At dinner with my parents." You could still see him, kneeling next to your chair, still feel the way your chest had gotten so tight as soon as his knee hit the floor.

Ransom started to smile, just a tiny thing for now. "And you said no?" You nodded. "Why?"

"Because you were fucking right!" You growled, still so mad about the whole thing. That your boyfriend had dared to ask. That Ransom’s face had flitted into your mind as soon as he did. That your parents had looked so disappointed when your only response to his question had been a panicked shake of your head. "You were right. I'm so fucking bored and so tired of pretending that's the life I want, ok?! Are you happy?"

"I'm getting there," he said, the slight smile from before morphing into a smirk. "You came straight here?" You nodded again. "Tell me why."

You made a sound, deep in your throat, halfway between a groan and a strangled cry. He was so fucking impossible. "Because!" you yelled. "Because I think about you all the time! Because you won't leave me alone! Because this is all your fault!"

He finally moved forward, quickly eliminating the space between you. He grabbed your face with both hands and looked you in the eye. "Because you still want me."

You groaned again. "Yes, ok? Yes!"

He kissed you, hard and demanding. His tongue forcing his way into your mouth, taking complete control of the kiss. You melted into it completely, finally getting what you'd been thinking about for months. But then you pushed against his shoulders, breaking the kiss. "Wait," you panted. "Wait. You're such an asshole."

He grinned this time, and you were struck for a second that he looked actually happy. "Yes," he chuckled, "we've established that."

You shook your head. "No," you said, pleaded. "You can't be, ok? You can't be an asshole to me. You have to be nice to me."

"Oh, kitten," he said, and you were a little astounded by the way his voice, his touch, suddenly turned so gentle. "Let me take you upstairs and show you just how nice I can be."

[eebie]

tootsie roll

[howlingtides]

Dazai visits Chuuya after Chuuya used Corruption to save him (Chuuya's POV)

Takes place immediately after Dead Apple

tags: hurt/comfort, soukoku's version of fluff, Chuuya has chronic pain

Every time Chuuya activated Corruption, it took him a little longer to recover. When he was younger, he'd sleep it off in a few hours. The last couple of times, it had taken him maybe a day or two.

It had been three days since he'd defeated that dragon and saved Dazai's ass, and his entire body still felt like it had been crushed beneath the pressure of his own ability.

It was absolutely brutal.

He'd definitely exceeded the recommended dose of painkillers over the last seventy-two hours, and though they did help a bit, it still wasn't enough. His head throbbed and his muscles burned and his bones ached and it took every ounce of effort he had to get out of bed and force himself to eat something.

All he had left in the fridge was some leftover rice and a half empty bottle of white wine, and cooking was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He opted for the rice, popping the lid off the container and grabbing a pair of chopsticks and bringing everything with him over to the couch where he all but fell against the cushions with a groan.

He'd just taken his first bite when there was a knock at the door.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

It crossed his mind to play absent, to let whoever was here think he wasn't home so they would go away and just leave him the fuck alone while he wallowed in his post-Corruption agony.

"Chuuuuuyaaa," came a sing-song voice from outside, another knock following suit.

Oh he was definitely pretending that he wasn't home.

"I know you're in there," Dazai said. "I can feel you pouting."

Damn it all to hell.

"Go to hell you goddamn coat rack."

"But Chuuya," he pressed, "I come bearing gifts."

Gifts? What the hell could shitty Dazai have possibly brought him?

He pondered it for a moment before ultimately deciding that this was a losing battle. Chuuya was either going to let Dazai in or Dazai was going to eventually let himself in.

He set the rice down on the coffee table and pushed himself up with a grunt, dragging himself over to the front door. And he must've been in worse shape than he thought because the moment he opened the door, Dazai's stupid smile faded a little.

Just a little.

But it was enough.

"Please don't," Chuuya said before Dazai could comment on his appearance.

"Don't what?"

"Just. Don't." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Not today."

They stood there in silence for a moment as Chuuya held his breath.

Eventually, Dazai held up a brown paper bag. "In the mood for some carbonara?"

Chuuya was always in the mood for carbonara, and shitty Dazai knew that, but Chuuya was not in the mood for company, and Dazai probably knew that, too.

It was then that Chuuya's stomach growled and he remembered the cold white rice he was about to eat.

Begrudgingly, he stepped aside, allowing Dazai to enter.

It was also then that he realized how dark his apartment was. He'd kept all the blinds closed and the lights off because everything hurt and the light hurt, but if Dazai had something to say about it, he kept it to himself. Which was unsettling.

Was Chuuya dreaming?

"I figured you were still wallowing," Dazai said, setting the bag down on the coffee table next to the sad leftovers. "I haven't heard from you since you passed out in my lap."

There it was.

"That was not by choice, asshole," Chuuya snarled, limping back over to sit on the couch. "You held me down."

Dazai sat on the other side. "You looked pretty comfortable to me."

Chuuya could feel himself getting worked up, the pain increasing. "Dazai," he warned, rubbing at his temple.

"What?" Dazai continued. "It's not like it was the first time you've ever-"

"I should have left you to die."

"Well if you'd've done that, you'd be dead, too."

"Not the worst thing in the world right now."

Dazai paused at that and gave Chuuya this look.

Was that pity?

"I swear to god, if you-"

"I never got to thank you," Dazai said, cutting him off.

Chuuya froze, still trying to decide whether or not this was a dream.

"You saved me," Dazai continued. "You're always saving me, Chuuya." He slid the paper bag across the table. "So. Thank you."

Chuuya's chest felt warm. He stared down at the bag then back up at Dazai. "That's not poisoned, is it?"

Dazai gasped. "Chuuya! So soon after what happened to me? Consider a guy's feelings."

"You're so fucking full of it."

Dazai smirked. "You want me to take the first bite?"

He grabbed the paper bag, holding it away from Dazai. "Don't fucking touch it."

"I brought it for both of us."

Chuuya thought for a moment before setting the bag back down. "I guess," he uttered, "I guess I owe you one, too. For," he stared down at his hands, "saving me."

Dazai hummed in acknowledgement. "Has Chuuya gone soft?"

"Dick," Chuuya said, softly punching Dazai in the arm.

Dazai chuckled. "You're so easy."

Chuuya felt his cheeks go hot, and he wanted to scream, but he was also starving, and if it meant sharing a meal with Dazai to eat some delicious carbonara in his time of need, then.

Well, he guessed it also wasn't the worst thing in the world right now either.

[patchwork-crow-writes]

80 - The Final Cut

...so, you have made your choice.

Do you remember what I once said, my light? That the bonds you break may make you stronger? And oh, what a brilliant fire you've made from those bridges, as rudely incandescent as the sun itself.

...I can hardly stand to look at it, it stings my eyes so...

For the final time then, let me roll out the red carpet and bid you welcome to my kingdom. No subjects shall resist your entry, as there are none to defend this place... I have to wonder if you planned it that way, but I'm not certain you were even thinking that far ahead. They would not be able to stop you in any case.

I see the twisted sword in your hand, o Lightbringer, its tortured edges baying for something to sunder... but there'll be no satisfaction for you here. Even if I wanted to FIGHT, even if I were capable of standing against you as an equal... that would just be playing into your twisted game, where statistical superiority is all. And it is not a game I have any interest in playing.

So then... will you proceed? Will you reap the bitter harvest of your conquest of this world, and run your sword through my unguarded heart? Will you then march on to plant your flag in the ruins of your hubris...?

...but what am I saying? You've come this far, why stop at the final bump in the road? After all, you and I both know this isn't real, and that none of this even matters... if it ever even did to you in the first place.

And then I suppose you'll go back, wont you? Back to before you broke it all over your knee, just to see if you could. Because you can. And if you can, then why not? Such is the luxury your godhood affords you.

Then all that is left to say is: thank you for playing our game, Lightbringer. I hope that you had fun.

______________________________

The Dark Menagerie No. 80

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[imaginethathaikyuu]

literally anything with atsumu i love him and ur writing is always up to par so. i will be happy with anything. but a cute birthday themed piece could be fun perhaps

thank u so much i wrote this specifically for u and i managed to write a weirdly formatted atsumu centered fic that barely went over 1k words. we are so back

contains: fluff, mild childhood angst, a black eye, birthday cake word count: 1163 gender neutral reader x miya atsumu :p

-

October 5th, 1995 

Atsumu Miya is born. He’s gifted a bright flash of light, the sound of his own cries, and - seven minutes later - a brother. 

October 5th, 2003

There was a HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner taped to the cabinets in the kitchen. The R was ripped nearly in half, and the colors were dull. 

It was the same one as last year, and the year before that. 

Atsumu walked through the threshold with his brother right next to him. Osamu knew how to say thank you in the right way to get the best hug from their mom. 

They were presented with one singular cupcake. 

“Why can’t we ever get our own?” 

The two boys sat too close at the kitchen table, the strawberry cake sat right in front of them. 

“You have to learn how to share, Atsumu.” 

He knew how to share. There was nothing left to learn.

One candle was mashed in the frosting. Mom lit the flame and Atsumu watched wax dripping onto his half as she sang their happy birthday song, and told them to make a wish. 

Atsumu and Osamu looked at each other, then blew at the candle at the exact same time. 

The cupcake was cut in half, and Atsumu’s stomach hurt before he could finish his. Osamu took it without being asked. 

But if they had each gotten their own, Atsumu would've had more to share with his brother. 

October 5th, 2010

Atsumu was fifteen and he knew everything. He was always right - never, ever wrong, and if anyone disagreed, they’d have to take it up directly with him. 

He knew how to run his mouth. Maybe it was what he was best at. He’d never lost an argument - until his fifteenth birthday. 

He’d gotten good at taking his aggression out in healthy ways - mostly in sports. But, sometimes, the words he spit couldn’t be left on the court. 

He would say what he wanted, and he didn’t care who heard or hurt. 

He didn’t know what he had coming to him. 

The entire team had already abandoned the gym, all but Atsumu and the shitty middle blocker who played like he didn’t know his position. 

Atsumu was outside stretching when his words hit his ears. “You’re a piece of shit, Miya.” 

“Oh my god - get in line, dude, you’re about the fifth person today to let me know.” 

“That many people wanna rip your head off? I wish one of them would teach you how to shut the fuck up.” 

“And I wish someone would teach you how to block the fuckin’ ball.” 

The guy didn’t reply. He took one step in Atsumu’s direction - he remembered hearing the crunch of gravel under the guy's foot. His shoulder moved with the step, and with it, the first real punch Atsumu had ever been thrown. 

And it hit. Hard. Ten times harder than any hits from Osamu. 

The guy’s fist collided with Atsumu’s cheek and then he walked away. Atsumu didn’t even have a chance to hit back - he was frozen in place, anyway. There was no fight in him. He was too surprised. 

A black eye wasn’t on his wishlist for his birthday, but it’s what he got. A lesson learned? Not so much. 

October 5th, 2019

He was another year older - so what. 

The only part of Atsumu’s birthday that he liked was giving his brother a stupidly expensive gift, because it gave him an excuse to gloat. 

Other than that? It was a day like any other. 

Birthdays were nowhere near special to him - especially his own. But it just so happened that on that specific birthday, he had his first date with you. 

And it didn’t even come up in conversation. Neither did his twin brother, or any of his volleyball stories he’d usually tell to impress a date. 

Atsumu found out that he didn’t need to impress you, and he hardly needed to talk about himself. 

He left that date feeling like he was friends with you, and maybe that wasn’t how he should feel after a date, but he was beaming. The hours with you at that hole in the wall bar didn’t feel like enough. 

He took that feeling and ran with it, and he hoped - he prayed - you’d follow him. 

October 5th, 2022

It’d been late nights for as long as Atsumu could remember. He’d come home and you’d already be in bed - if he was lucky, you’d wake up just long enough to tell him you love him. 

That night was different from the rest. 

That night, he would be coming home to - literally - an empty home. 

Finally, you and Atsumu had moved into the house of your dreams that was yours. But, for the time being, you were living out of boxes and waiting for furniture deliveries. 

He opened the door to a dark living room and an even darker hallway, and he didn’t bother turning any on lights to get to the kitchen. 

There was a shred of light there, coming from an old bulb above the stove. He looked around the empty room and what he found was out of place. 

There you were, sat on the floor. A chair was next to you, funnily enough, but it was taken by a round white cake. A handful of candles were stuck into the top. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, the same time you spoke. 

“There’s my birthday boy,” and your voice was all sleepy smiles. “Happy birthday. Happy anniversary.” 

He sat in front of you, right on the floor, not caring when his knees popped on the way down. 

“Did you stay up just to tell me that?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

You picked up the cake and presented it to him like you were proud of it, and the size of his grin matched yours. 

“How mad would you be if I just tipped this up,” and he tapped the bottom of the plate, “right into your face?” 

“Atsumu.” Every time you said his name like that, he laughed. “I would kill you.”

“On my birthday?” 

He watched you pout as you sat the cake down again. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?” 

“Thank you,” he said, like he was insisting. He wrapped his hands around your legs and scooted you closer to him. “Thank you, baby, this is so nice.” 

You hummed. “You’re welcome.” And you dipped your finger in the frosting on the cake, and Atsumu immediately caught your wrist when you moved it toward his face. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

You kept pushing, and he didn’t push back fast enough - your finger and the glob of frosting smushed right into his cheek. 

And you laughed loud enough to fill the empty rooms of your house, and Atsumu didn’t know how to tell you how in love he was. 

He had birthday cake for dinner that night, and it settled into a sugary stomach ache. It was the best October 5th he'd lived through so far.

-

got a request for a drabble? send it in, i might write it :)  

[noelle-holi-gay]

Noelle finds out that there's a whole online community of people who find her relatable, a good chunk of them trans and neurodivergent

Noelle shone her flashlight down the deep, dark steps of the bunker in the woods, and took a deep breath.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Kris asked. "We don't know what's down there."

Noelle steeled herself. "If there's even a chance Dess is trapped here…we have to try, Kris."

Kris nodded, and the two of them began their descent into the earth. The stone beneath their feet eventually turned to metal, and the space opened up into a large room with lots of strange, blinking devices.

"What…is this?" Noelle asked softly.

Kris took a cautious step forward, looking around. "Seems like some kind of laboratory."

Noelle moved over to one of the machines, which had a big, wide screen, displaying…wait, no, that couldn't be right. "Is this Monster Tumblr?"

"What." Kris walked over to her and stared. "Wait, holy shit, it is. And are they talking about…us?"

"Noelle is so skrunkly I want to laminate her and keep her in my purse," Noelle read aloud. "That's, uh…"

Kris leaned forward and began scrolling down. "Noelle is just like me for real…Noelle is such prime blorbo material…"

"Blorbo?!" Noelle exclaimed.

"Here's a picture of a video game text box of you talking about how you want Susie to push you to the ground and laugh at you, captioned 'Naurrrrrrr girl' with a skull emoji…"

"Th-That never happened!"

"This one says, 'Noelle can commit a little murder as a treat. God forbid a woman do anything. Besides gamers aren't people she did nothing wrong.' " Kris turned to her. "You didn't kill anyone, right?"

"N-No! Why would they say that? Do they want me to kill people?"

"Sorta seems like it." Kris pointed at something and giggled. "Here, look, there's a drawing of you freezing Berdly in ice."

"That's horrible!"

"Come on, it's just a joke." Kris smiled. "You'd never actually do that. That's why it's funny."

Noelle looked away. "I guess."

Kris kept scrolling. "Oh, here — it looks like you got fourth place in the…'transfem swag' tournament on tumblr? Look at the comments: Noelle is such a trans icon, I want to steal Noelle's gender, Noelle has so much transgender swag it's insane…"

Noelle blinked. "I'm flattered, but, um. I'm not trans?"

"Too bad. You are now. The people said so."

"Who even are these people?!"

"Trust me, it's a compliment." Kris poked around a little bit more. "Oh, but look at this — I got second in the 'nonbinary swag' tournament. So basically I beat you."

"Yes?" Noelle stared at them. "Because you're actually nonbinary?"

"But it means I have more swag than you, Noelle."

"Okay, this is—" Noelle rolled her eyes. "This is nonsense. Let's not waste our time on weird, fake tumblr posts about us."

Kris stepped away from the screen. "You're just mad I have more swag than you."

Noelle stomped a hoof. "Kris, focus!"

"Yeah, yeah…"

[noromantichero]

just some thoughts i've been having recently because i've been playing a bunch of the kirby games & stuff but i'm thinking about bandana waddle dee & kirby's relationship

obligatory warning that i think they're in love but also! How!!!

ugh they'd be so quietly in love methinks. like, it's that weird shift when you know someone really well as a good friend & it just gradually gets a little more over time. bandee & kirby will hold hands & then sooner or later they're giving each other 'platonic' kisses

like it's that odd pipeline in super duper close relationships that i can't pinpoint, but they themselves would barely recognise that they're basically dating at a certain point

it'd take someone else to ask "so are you two a thing?" & both of them give a bewildered look to one another. & they both instantly realise they like each other so much!!

probably would include a brief conversation later like "about what that person said..." etc etc. & they'd probably just keep it the same as ever without a proper label to it either.

anyway sorry i got brainrotted; i just think they'd unexpectedly fall in love with each other without realising

[underratedandoverit]

Hello there!

i wanna request just..The best friends, Orange, the whole group just in a hug pile...for some reason I'm very soft when it comes to hugs

819 words best friends (orange cassidy, kris statlander, trent baretta, chuck taylor)

ssssoooo i may or may not have finally rewatched stadium stampede from all in 2023 and i still have A LOT of feelings about that match. so this takes place the day after that. i just wanted them all to be very sweet to the suffering little clementine 💜 i hope this is anything, enjoy!!

can be read as platonic or shippy poly friends, whichever floats your boat theres minor mentions of blood but thats about it, other than that its just friends supporting friends and fluff

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate

on ao3

---------------------------

Everything ached. Cassidy was awake, but refused to open his eyes, feeling the pounding on the side of his head, followed by the stiffness in his neck. Even trying to move his arms as he rolled to his side on the bed hurt, putting any strength into the movement made him feel like he was going to throw up from the sheer pain alone.

He was very aware how rough last night had been, both physically and mentally, but it had been such a long time since Cassidy had last felt it like this that he had almost forgotten how bad the pain was. Getting battered, bruised, and bloodied was one thing, watching his friends go through it as well mostly because of him was another, him shoving his hand into glass and getting cuts and blood everywhere was a whole another suitcase he didn’t want to unpack.

Cassidy winced a little at the sound of the hotel room door opening, even the quietest sound feeling like rumbling in his ears. Even the stadium he had performed the night before didn’t sound as loud as that in his head.

He wasn’t obviously going to get any more sleep so he forced his eyes open, it taking a second for his vision to focus, watching as a familiar looking hand lowered a small bottle of painkillers and a glass of water on the nightstand next to him. Cassidy carefully moved his head, eyes looking up towards Kris, who only smiled back at him as the pain was so obvious on his face she didn’t want to make it worse. He watched as she turned away from him, a finger rising on her lips, clearly shushing the other people in the room on his behalf.

Cassidy was thankful, but it wasn’t like it was going to make that big of a difference.

Without a word he slowly sat up, the painful moans and groans following every movement until he was finally able to throw his legs over the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes to steady himself for a moment, trying to push the painful headache away for at least long enough until he got something to relieve it in him. Reaching an arm for the bottle of painkillers was equally as painful, and Cassidy wasn’t going to lie if someone asked how he was holding up.

Barely.

He struggled for a moment trying to get the bottle open, followed by a defeated sigh as after a few weak attempts he wasn’t making any progress. As Cassidy was about to give up, another hand joined in, carefully taking the bottle from his hands, easily rolling the top of it open and pouring two pills out of it into the palm of his hand. Cassidy watched them, quietly, without a word popping them into his mouth before he was offered the glass of water. He glanced up at Trent, who only nodded back to him and continued to hold the glass for him even after Cassidy reached for it, making sure it was in much more secure hands than in the blond’s trembling ones, carefully tilting it so Cassidy could get a proper drink out of it.

Getting even slightly hydrated was doing him some good, but Cassidy had to admit he still didn’t feel much better. He knew it was going to take some time for the painkillers to kick in, and he just had to wait. Unfortunately for him he was an impatient one, but the soft brush of a hand against his arm soon caught his attention, Cassidy glancing over his shoulder back towards the bed, seeing the familiar face of Chuck smiling back at him as he carefully took a hold of the blond’s arm, nudging him softly back to the bed.

With a little help from Trent to try to help with his aching body, Cassidy was soon positioned in front of Chuck who was sitting up against the headboard, hands carefully running over the tensed up upper back of the blond. Cassidy tried to keep quiet as he felt the jolts of pain through his body, but little by little the hands carefully massaging his back were starting to have the desired effects. Cassidy could feel himself slowly relaxing, his breathing easier, the headache beginning to fade.

After a while the hands stopped, Chuck just steadying him a little as his arms wrapped around Cassidy’s midsection, pulling him against his chest. Cassidy didn’t resist, feeling comfortable for the first time in hours, even more so as he felt the bed shift on either side of them, more arms pulling them into careful, comforting hugs as Kris and Trent joined in.

There was a hint of smile on Cassidy’s lips as silence fell back into the hotel room, all of them just settling in comfortably in each other's arms. These truly were his best friends.

[if-mirrormine]

PLEASE write the drabbles with Kennedy and Alex’s reactions to the news of MC returning there is interest!!!!! I am so interested!!!!!!

ok jeez ill do it

[ilyrouxls]

Sleepless Words

Rouxls Kaard x Reader

(Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader, Not Canon AU thingy.. idk, Y/n used)

Your constant struggle to sleep leads you to the balcony late at night, where a certain Duke suggests poetry to help your problem.

  During the late hours of the night, most could find you awake in your room. It’s not like you chose to be up in the late hours of night, you’d love to sleep peacefully like your friends, but the problem was you simply couldn’t. You couldn’t quite pin it down to insomnia, it was more so that it became a habit from your teenage days. But now that you’re a young adult, you’ve found that this is quite annoying. 

  You’re tried everything to fall asleep at a decent time; Melatonin, peaceful music, Youtube videos, playing a game to exhaust yourself, and various other things. Nothing seemed to work, you’d always be up till 3am or later trying to sleep. 

  Recently, your sibling Kris and their friend Susie accidentally brought you into this place called the Dark World. You enjoy the place a lot and you've been staying down here even when Kris and Susie aren’t around. You stay for a few reasons, the main being that you have been studying the place since you’ve arrived. You’ve always been an explorer at heart, and the Dark World was beautiful. It always provided mystery along with amazing scenery and people.

  Another reason that had you staying was a certain Duke, Rouxls Kaard. It might be crazy, but he really stuck out to you. His devotion to puzzles had your heart thumping. Sure they weren’t very good in terms of being difficult, but it’s clear that he puts his heart and soul into them; and that’s what really makes them special to you. Ever since arriving, you’ve been more and more interested in him. Of course as the cliché goes, you would never ever admit it to him. The only person you’ve ever admitted about your so-called ‘crush’ on Rouxls to was your sibling. They had a knack at figuring out your secrets, it was irritating at times but honestly you don’t mind for the most part.

  Back to the present time at hand, it was currently two in the morning in Dark World time. Kris and their various friends were also staying in the Dark World, they had lied to their parents that they were at Kris’ for the night for a sleepover and you were watching them. Technically, yes, they were having a sleepover, just not where their parents thought. You were also technically watching over them too, just not at where their parents thought either...

  Ralsei was nice enough to make everyone a room, including yourself. It suited your tastes so perfectly it made you question how the hell Ralsei could know. Maybe from the adventures you’d been on with the group, you suppose, but not this down to the nitty gritty.

  At the moment, you lay face down in your bed. You’re frustrated with your lack of sleep, and at this point you can’t be bothered with actually laying the correct way. You sigh, deciding that maybe a walk around the palace could help. Maybe you’ll stop in the kitchen for some water and snacks, since you’ll be up for another hour or so.

  Practically rolling yourself off the bed and onto your feet, you go to open your door. You try to open it as quietly as possible, but the door doesn’t bend to your will and instead creaks loudly. Hoping no one woke up from that, you hold still and wait for someone to investigate. After a minute with no one seeming to have woken up, you walk out into the hallway. Still trying to be quiet, you tiptoe your way out to the balcony for some fresh air.

  The sky in the Dark World was very unlike the sky in the normal world. The best way to describe the way it looks is to picture that one edible glitter powder you put in sodas that’s probably just a bunch of micro plastics. That’s basically what the sky looks like, though it’s much better than the edible glitter. 

  For the second time tonight you sigh, looking up to the sky. Your thoughts wander to your previous adventures from the last month or so. Who knew saving the world and making friends within a strange world would ever be a part of your agenda. And falling in love as well… it makes your head spin honestly. Who knew a man with the strangest way of speaking and easy puzzles could whoo your heart so easily without even trying.

  “Ah Y/n? What is thou doing outh here at thine hour?” You jump at the voice that suddenly appeared behind you. Speak of the devil, you turn around and see the one who’s stolen your heart. “Ah Rouxls, I couldn’t sleep so I decided to get some fresh air. But I could ask you the same thing.” Rouxls chuckles, making your heart pitter patter in the most cheesy way ever. He walks to stand next to you by the balcony, “Eh-he, ah so thine wisheth to knoweth why? Well thou shall see, I was sleeping quiteth peacefully but thenth I heard a loud sound that startledst thyself out of mine slumber. So thenth I decidededth to investigate the sound.”

  You can feel yourself cringe, what luck it was that you happened to wake him up and cause him inconvenience. “Oh I'm sorry! That was me opening my door, I’m so sorry for bothering you.” Heat rises to your face and ears in embarrassment as you try not to make eye contact.  “Oh no I did not mean- Do not worriesth dear, it was quite not a problemth, do not fret.” Rouxls seemingly stumbled on his words, clearly sensing your distress, and waved around his hands a bit. You smile and giggle at his behavior.

  Minutes pass of silence, luckily it's only a little awkward. You were staring out at the sky when Rouxls breaks the silence. “So, Y/n, do thou often haveth troublest sleeping?” You shift yourself to lean against the balcony and turn your head toward him. “Yeah actually, it usually takes me till three am or later to sleep. It’s a habit I suppose, hehe..” You laugh a little at the end of your sentence to try not to seem so glum. Rouxls mimics your movements and leans against the railing, “I’ve tried what feels like everything to fall asleep but it seems like nothing works.” The sentence comes out quieter than you meant. 

  Rouxls hums in response, you look at him and it seems like he’s thinking about something. After what feels like minutes, Rouxls snaps his fingers and says, “Haveth you tried poetry?” You raise a brow and tilt your head. Of course you haven’t, because why would anyone in their right mind try poetry to fall asleep... You keep that thought to yourself, realizing it sounds pretty mean, and instead just shake your head. “Ah, I knoweth it may seemth strange. But maybe your lacketh of sleep mayst be from stress. I writeth poems to tryth to ease mine stress.” 

  Now that he put it that way, it did make more sense. Maybe it was stress, not sure from what but stress can be caused from lots of things. “That actually makes a lot of sense. But I don’t really know how to make poems…” You trail off, thinking for a moment about your past English class poetry failures. Embarrassing… 

  Rouxls chuckles, “Wellth than I may teacheth you, thy is the best after allst. Let’s go to mine room.” He begins to ramble on about how he’s the best at poetry, while leading you to his room. You space out a bit not really listening. Normally you would listen to his narcissistic-esc rants, you find it annoyingly cute, but not at two in the morning. But before you know it, you’ve walked right into his room.

  “Hmm.. taketh a seat upon mine bed, as it shall be the most comfortablest place to writeth poetry.” Rouxls whispers as to not wake the others sleeping in a room nearby. You sit on his bed and look around his room. It really fit him perfectly, the room had an elegant look with a color scheme of blues, blacks, and whites. 

  Rouxls comes over to you and hands you some papers and pens. You assume he doesn't have pencils since it doesn’t really fit his style. He sits down next to you and explains how to write a basic poem. “Now you writeth a poem and I shall writeth one aswell, and hopefully it shallth make you tiredst.” You nod and begin to think about an idea. You try to think about your family or the scenery of the Dark World, but all you could think about was how close Rouxls was next to you. He was already writing down something on his paper, his eyebrows scrunched up a bit as he concentrated. You feel your face grow hot, and your thoughts flood with him. Without even realizing it, you start writing a poem about him;

  ‘The wind of the night calls out your name, As moon shines light upon your frame, I stand beside you admiring your elegant grace, A feeling of warmth clings to my face, I can only hope it goes unnoticed, As you talk and I try to stay focused, But my longing for you cannot subdue, My heart cannot help but intrude.’

  Admittedly it wasn’t your best work, nor was it your worst, but it worked. Your eyelids begin to droop a bit and you know you should get up to go to your own room. But you don’t want to interrupt Rouxls, who is still focusing on his own poem. Without much thought you instead just lay down across his bed, practically falling asleep as soon as you hit the soft mattress.

  When you wake up, you assume you only slept for maybe a few minutes. But the rays of sun shining on your face from the window say otherwise. Panic sets in as you look around and realize you never left Rouxls’ room. You were also not laying horizontal on the bed, instead you were now tucked into the blankets comfortably. You shift yourself up with your elbows and peer around.

  Rouxls is nowhere to be found. Now worry is set in your heart, where did he go? Did you falling asleep scare him off? The sound of the door opening pulls you out of your thoughts, and in comes Rouxls with a cup of coffee. “Oh, you are awaketh. Good morning.” He smiles a bit, a little bit sheepishly but you’re not sure why. “Goodmorning, sorry about falling asleep in your room. I didn’t think I would pass out like that…” Your face becomes hot again, which has been happening a lot more than you’d like. Rouxls chuckles and sips his coffee, “It is no problemth, I am glad I couldeth help you could get some sleepth.” You get out of his bed and stretch. You thank him and begin to leave before realization sets in. 

  “Oh uhm uh by the way, did you read the poem I made?” You turn and look at him, his face notably shades in a slight dark blue tint. He definitely did. He totally did. “Oh my god I’m sorry bye!” You manage an apology and then with that you quickly exit and rush to your room. Your heart beats fast and your face heats up, this time out of absolute embarrassment, and you close your door. Jumping into bed face first, you whisper scream into your pillow. “I cannot believe this why am I like this oh my god why did I write about him and then fall asleep like it was nothing what did I think would happen..…” You shake your legs up and down, hitting your bed out of frustration. This is definitely in your top three most embarrassing moments.

  A knock breaks your thoughts and you can only think the worst. It could be Rouxls here to reject you or it could either be Kris or one of their friends here to question you on why you were running down the hall; if they even saw you. Nervously you get up and open the door a bit. Of course it was Rouxls, why wouldn’t it be!

  “Ahem uhm Y/n, I apologizeth for reading your poem withoutst your permission. I could noth but help to readth it, and I also cannot help but ask if perhaps.. it couldeth be about me..?” God. Why. You wanted to die on the spot honestly. You nod your head hesitantly and start to mutter apologies but he interrupts abruptly. “I seeth, do noth apologize. You see I…. feelth the same way. Ahem, and well I was wondering if maybeth you wouldst like to go outh on a date..” Rouxls cheeks were dusted dark blue in blush, his eyes avoiding your own and his hands behind his back in an almost polite, but awkward manner. “Of course! I would love to actually that would be amazing. When are you thinking?” Your heart was beating louding in your ears, you felt like he might be able to actually hear it, and your face was hot like it was on fire; which was actually becoming quite annoying and repetitive. “Tonighth at six? I haveth the perfect restaurant that I thinketh you might enjoy.” 

  The two of you make plans for dinner that night and he wishes you a farewell and heads off to his own room. When you close your door you feel like you might collapse. Correction, you actually do collapse. Luckily not in a bad way, just out of excitement and adrenaline. After a few minutes of processing you stand up and get ready for the day. Anticipation fills your body as for the first time ever, you can’t wait for the night to come quicker. Who knew a poem could solve not only your sleep problems, if even for a night, but also your love problems.

(Posted originally on AO3 5-12-22, 2333 words)

[relic-seeker]

do you ever imagine whole fic scenes in the shower but you forget them as soon as you get out

[krirebr]

Quick drabble/riff prompt! First thing that pops into your mind for: Curtis + possessive + “Well that escalated quickly.”

You could feel Curtis’s eyes on you from across the party. You rolled your eyes to yourself a bit as you leaned in closer to better hear your friend. And because you knew how it would look. It was too fun to get him all riled up. Sure enough, moments later, Curtis was beside you, his hand on your wrist, dragging you away with a curt grunt to your friend. He pulled you down the hall, shoving you into the bathroom.

He pinned you to the wall, covering you with his body. "That’s the coworker that likes you?" he growled, in between nipping at your neck, his hands roaming all over your body, like he needed to touch everything at once.

Your friend had gotten very drunk at after-work drinks a few weeks ago and had confessed to you that she'd been so bummed when she found out you weren't into women because there were all sorts of things she wanted to do to you.

You'd told your boyfriend when you got home that night because you'd found the whole thing to be both very flattering and very funny, and ultimately, completely harmless. Apparently, Curtis didn't quite agree.

"No," you gasped, as he ran his hand under your skirt, up your inner thigh. "That's the coworker who wants to fuck me, that's what she said." You stuttered at the end of your sentence as he yanked your panties to the side.

"Yeah?" he asked, as his thumb began to circle your clit, and he pushed one then two thick fingers into your cunt in quick succession, making you choke on air. "You wanna fuck her? Think you have the right?"

"No!" you cried as his fingers curled in just the right spot that had you panting into his neck.

"And why not?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear, his body still pressing you into the wall. "Who do you belong to?"

"You! Just you! Fuck, Curtis, fuck fuck!" You shouted as he pressed hard against your g-spot and you fell apart around him. You panted against him as he held you up through your orgasm. Then, after a moment, once you finally started to come down, and he'd gently removed his fingers, you chuckled against him. "Well, that escalated quickly."

He gave you a shark-like grin and shook his head. "We're not done yet. Go get your coat. We're going home so I can fuck you into the mattress and really make sure I've gotten my point across."

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

May I please get a yandere kris stat having to punish the reader and maybe taking care of them after said punishment

Apologize

Warnings:

Taglist: @fiskers7136 @peachmango-kombucha @kcloveswrestling @bellalutionn @xkennyxomegax @tummyyellin @legit9thlunaticwarrior @auburnwrites @melissahausen @thesusbunny @writtingrose

"I trusted you," Kris spoke from above you. You were laid across her lap, pants pulled down, revealing your ass to her. "I gave you the privilege of going out back, and how to you repay me?" When you don't answer Kris smacks your ass, hard, making you cry out. "I asked a fucking question."

"I tried to run-"

"You tried to run." Kris agreed, running her hand over the spot she had just slapped. "It's a good thing I was watching, who knows what would have happened. We are out in the middle of nowhere, you could have gotten lost or hurt."

You knew you shouldn't have done it, knew the chances of actually getting away were practically nothing. But it was just too perfect. Kris trusted you outside, alone. The gate didn't have a lock. You had to try. And of course, you failed. Your knees and elbows were scraped up from the women tackling and pining you to the ground.

"While I'm glad that didn't happen, you do need to be punished. So, I'm going to spank your ass until you apologize and are begging me to stop."

Your eyes widened at her words as you started to struggle against her hold. Not that it did anything, her being much stronger than you. "Oh, stop it. You brought this on yourself."

Kris began bringing her hand down hard on your ass. Over and over again as tears ran down your face and your ass was bright red. You begged, you apologized, you promised to never do it again, but she seemed to just ignore you, continuing for as long as she wanted.

Finally, she came to a stop, rubbing the bruised flesh softly. "Well, I don't know about you, but I feel a lot better!" Kris announced, maneuvering you in her lap so she was holding you against her body. "And now that you've taken your punishment, how about some soothing location and cuddles?"

You nodded against her chest slowly, tears still running down your face. "Yes please."

[howlingtides]

A concerned Chuuya finds a drunk Dazai in the bath (Chuuya's POV) - Part 2/2

tw: drinking

tags: hurt/comfort, soukoku's version of fluff, drunk Dazai

Part 1 / Part 2

Dazai's brow furrowed. "Chuuya-"

"You're drunk," Chuuya interrupted, pulling away. He snatched the glass out of Dazai's hand. "I'm cutting you off."

He could feel Dazai staring at him as he downed the rest of the whiskey in the glass and set it on the floor.

He coughed at the taste. "Fucking hate whiskey."

The room went quiet again, and Chuuya closed his eyes as he let his head fall back against the wall.

I don't deserve you.

Who the fuck does Dazai think he is saying shit like that? What game was he trying to play?

Why was Chuuya even here?

He took a deep breath before sitting forward, pushing himself up onto his feet.

"Where are you going?" Dazai said with a broken voice.

Chuuya avoided his gaze. "Home," he said. "I'm fucking tired."

As he reached down to grab his boots, Dazai's hand shot out from the tub, water splashing over the side as he grabbed his wrist.

"Chuuya," he said, as if that were enough.

Chuuya's head was starting to hurt.

"Dazai," Chuuya said back.

A warning.

As if that would stop Dazai.

They stayed like that for a few seconds as Chuuya waited for Dazai's response.

"Don't go," he uttered, so quietly that Chuuya still wasn't entirely sure that's what he said.

And deep down, Chuuya knew. He knew that if he left right now, he'd end up regretting it. Knew that anymore sleep was out of the question tonight. Knew that he was so far gone at this point that pretending not to care was becoming exhausting.

Knew that he had to stay.

Slowly, he sat back down, and Dazai released his grip.

The weight of the silence was heavy as they sat there, side by side, like they were fifteen again.

Like they were partners again.

Chuuya picked at the label on the whiskey bottle. "I think Oda was full of shit," he said. He could hear Dazai's breath catch. "I think you should do what you're good at, regardless of sides."

It's not like either of them really had any morals.

Dazai hummed at that, and Chuuya finally, finally looked at him.

He was still looking at Chuuya.

"Is that your way of saying that you miss me?" he said.

Chuuya's cheeks went hot. "How the hell did you get that out of what I just said?"

Dazai smiled softly. "I miss you too, Chuuya."

And something snapped inside of Chuuya just then.

He turned, grabbing the sides of Dazai's face, leaning forward, pressing their lips together. His gloved hands tugged at Dazai's wet hair as he kissed him, again and again, until Dazai eventually started kissing him back, until Dazai moaned into Chuuya's mouth and Chuuya could have died right then and there.

They kissed like that for a while, all tongues and teeth, all heat and force, until eventually Chuuya had to come up for air and the taste of whiskey in their mouths was becoming too much.

The front of his shirt was wet as he pulled away, leaning his forehead against Dazai's as they caught their breath.

"You're drunk," panted Dazai, grinning.

Chuuya smirked. "You're mine."