Work Text:
Kris has a problem.
There's a new girl in school—Tall and stalwart and oh so strong—And she has a bone to pick with Kris. She makes a habit out of cornering them after school to threaten them with beatings, slamming them against lockers, taking bites out of their food, and other things that typical bullies do.
…And Kris really, really likes it.
More than a normal person should. Well… Normal people wouldn't enjoy being slammed into a locker at all. They would hate it.
But not Kris. Somewhere in their strange, incomprehensible twisted mind are synapses that fire off thoughts of romance every time they get bullied by that cute dragon girl.
Their therapist said something about it, when they were but a child and their parents still kept a watchful eye on their wellbeing. A connection between violence and love.
Kris thinks that's part of it.
Another part of it, though, is that it's all Asriel's fault for always gushing about dragons and getting them on that train. Susie is a dragon monster, after all, and Kris can't deny that, even barring the bullying, her visage alone is enough to send them into a tizzy.
A crumpled up wad of paper hits the back of their head, drawing them from their musings.
"Sleeping in class again, Dreemurr?" Susie speaks in a low, gravelly voice—the kind of thing that just drives them insane. She sounds like she wants to bite their head off. "…Well, after class, actually. You slept through the whole thing."
Maybe Kris wants that too.
Still, they remain unaffected on the outside, flashing her a coy little smile.
"Hardly worth staying awake for," they say wrly.
"'Course it isn't. Buncha nerd crap," scoffs Susie.
It is. And Miss Alphys's lecturing is so boring… How does she manage to make this even harder to listen to than it already is?
This whole lesson would be more interesting if Susie was teaching. Susie's so much more interesting to listen to. She'd speak with that rumbly, grounding, powerful voice of hers and draw them all into focus—And then, with a gruff irritation, she'd order them to keep their focus lest they wish to be clobbered.
"Maybe if you were the one teaching, I would be able to stay awake," they say with a little grin. Susie scoffs.
"I know I'm stupid," she says derisively, like she wants to grab their throat very tightly and- and hold them up in the air and make them dangle helplessly while taunting them about their weakness, and—
Kris reminds themself that there is already enough wrong with them as is, and that for now, it may be best to think normal and sane thoughts, things that aren't, well… Overly detailed fantasies about getting bullied by that cute new girl who hates their guts.
"—Y'don't gotta remind me," Susie finishes her thought with a huff, dousing their thoughts in cold water once more.
Had they seemed as if they were making fun of her intelligence? That's no good.
Kris is not like ordinary folk—Unable to communicate their thoughts with clarity. Their words come with the sting of a knife and the bluntness of a hammer rather than the grace of a painter's brush. They are flawed, deeply and incurably so, a certain tendency to hurt others embedded in their nature.
Even now, with this girl whom they so adore, Kris cannot help but cause hurt. How…
Suddenly, there's a yank on their sweater, and their head lolls back.
Susie looms above them, her rough, calloused hands sending sparks across their skin, Her amber eyes bore into their own, the extended eye contact making their heart race.
"And I promise that if you keep takin' the piss outta me like this—" She bares her teeth and points and Kris is almost disappointed she doesn't do anything more— "You'll get a feel outta these."
And with that, she drops them, walking out of the classroom.
Holy shit.
It takes Kris a few seconds to formulate any coherent thoughts—The first of which is the aforementioned, and the second of which is, God, I hope she makes good on that promise.
Okay. Time. To go home. Like that didn't just happen.
Kris stands up. They take two steps. They trip—Thank the heavens no one was there, because that would've ruined their image.
They stand up. Again. And then, they forget how to breathe. They remember how to breathe. Okay, they're breathing manually now. Great. Just great.
—Immediately, though, their attention is stolen by a sheet of paper on the ground. It's the crumpled up wad Susie threw at them.
…Kris knows they shouldn't. They shouldn't look. It would be weird and an invasion of privacy and also there's probably nothing there anyways.
But Kris is a strange and twisted individual, so they pick up the paper and gingerly unfold it.
It is a sheet of binder paper—with Christmas themed stickers on the margin that make it evident this was lent by Noelle. On it are various scribbles… and drawings.
Drawings such as one of them.
…!
Every bit of progress Kris just made in restoring their coherence of mind is immediately lost. Susie drew them. On her paper. She drew them!
Sure, it's labelled 'loser', and she drew stink marks emitting from their body, but Susie drew them.
Immediately, Kris folds the binder paper up and shoves it in their pocket, keeping a hand atop it for safekeeping. No one else can see this but them. They are going to keep this somewhere very, very safe, for their own eyes only.
And just as the thought strikes them, there is a wave of fresh self-loathing, a feeling passively engrained within their conscience that bubbles up to the surface at this whole stunt. Why are they bringing home a drawing Susie made without her consent and stashing it? God, they're such a creep. Kris is awful and they need to die.
Their hand curls into a fist, squeezing the paper in their pocket. Maybe they should just rip it. Rip it and erase this memory from their accursed mind.
But then, suddenly, their fist goes slack, and their resolve fades. Wouldn't ripping it just be destroying Susie's hard work because they couldn't get over themself?
Kris settles for the most morally sound option they can think of: leaving the sheet of paper on the floor as it was. That way, when Susie gets back and sees it, she can decide what to do with it for herself.
Feeling somewhat relieved by the fact that they haven't sunk even deeper into their pit of immorality for today, Kris walks home, thinking about getting something meaty for lunch tomorrow. That's what Susie likes, after all. She always savors it more, her bites larger and her laugh heartier. Plus, she doesn't get much in the way of proper nutrition.
"Kris!" Cries Mom when they arrive, standing in the doorway with a worried look. "If you are going to stay out for so long, please call me in advance. I was worrying over your wellbeing!"
Then, she squints at them—takes in their tussled hair, tired eyes—and her gaze turns stern.
"…You fell asleep in class," she says. It's not a question.
Kris nods.
"I should have known." Mom says.
Kris shrugs, trying, and failing, to show any remorse. They have none. Class was boring. Alphys sucks.
"I cannot let this go unpunished, Kris," she says. So scary. "For the next week, you are grounded—"
Hah. Like that matters to them.
"—From having any dessert."
Fuuuuuuck.
Kris makes their very best pleading eyes at her, channeling the energy of a sad and kicked puppydog. Look at how sad and wet and kicked I am. Do you really want to kick me again?
If they had ears and a tail, both would be drooping sadly right now.
Mom, however, is unswayed by their tactics, only raising a stern brow.
"Your puppy eyes will not work on me, Kris," she says. "…However, if you are on your best behavior, I will consider ending your grounding early."
Kris nods rapidly, immediately walking themself to the sink and getting to loading the dishwasher. Mom watches with a laugh.
"How determined..." She murmurs, her anger seemingly having dissipated. Kris takes to scrubbing the counter next, just to really drive it home that they are a reformed child, now sweet and kind and deserving of pie.
There's a voice in their head that tells them they don't deserve their mother's homecooked food, that they don't deserve any of her kindness at all, that they should just— just—
Kris clenches their fist very, very tightly.
"How was your day, Kris?" Mom asks.
"Slept through it," they say with a wry grin. Mom stifles a laugh.
"Right," she says, schooling her face into a stern glare. "As for me, I had a wonderful day for the most part—The children were wonderful to work with."
For the most part? Kris raises a brow.
"But, of course," she looks aside. "After work, your father approached me with yet another bouquet. Honestly, I wonder if he'll ever give up on this endeavor."
Her lip curls bitterly. Kris, for their part, doesn't know what to say.
"Your father always was such a stubborn man." They can hear the scorn lacing her voice, the bitter memory of those months as that idyllic family life collapsed bubbling up to the surface. And then, with a shaky laugh, she forces a smile. "Goodness, I'm rambling again, aren't I? My apologies."
She points to a bouquet laid out on the table—Blue roses. Kris's eyes widen marginally.
Blue roses are impossible in nature—A bouquet of them would require either attaining genetically modified seeds, or dying the petals, and Kris can tell these petals aren't dyed.
Dad, he… He's desperate, isn't he?
"You can have that, if you wish," she says. "Perhaps you will find a special someone you wish to give these to, tee hee!"
Kris immediately thinks of Susie, how she would most likely snatch the bouquet from their hands, crack a joke at their expense, then devour the flowers with her large, powerful maw.
Their face goes bright red at their own strange thoughts, and Mom laughs yet again.
"I take it you have someone in mind?" She asks. Kris's eyes dart to the floor as they walk over to the table and pick up the bouquet. God, there's something wrong with them.
Kris tries to be normal for the rest of the night—At least, as normal as someone like them, so sick and twisted of mind, can truly be. But alas, their valiant efforts fail, and during the late hours, they find themself unable to sleep, mind consumed with thoughts of Susie. Susie, Susie, Susie. Her maw. Her baggy clothes. Her scent. Her raspy voice.
Ughhh, get it together, Kris, they think to themself. You're going to start the roaring and probably die in like, a year, are you seriously getting tripped up over this right now?
Wait a minute. The Roaring. Like, in the Prophecy. Where they are The Cage and Susie is The Girl. And the Prophecy inspired Dragon Blazers.
And Dragon Blazers has a bustling fanfiction community.
Kris immediately pulls out their phone and searches for their favorite fanfiction site, pulling up the filters and selecting The Girl/The Cage.
Oneshot. General Ratings. Filter out the Unrequited Love tag. Filter out The Cage (Dragon Blazers) Is Male. Perfect.
For a brief second before they click on the first work that appears, Kris has a moment of hesitation. Are they really going to read a fanwork that is essentially shipping them with Susie? Are they that depraved? Isn't this wrong?
But these moral quandaries are lost on them, flawed creature that they are, and so, they pull up the work of fanfiction and start to read.
One becomes two. Two becomes three becomes five becomes ten. And the next thing Kris knows, they've abandoned that Oneshot filter altogether and are in the middle of reading a 200k word Girl/Cage fanfiction.
At last, when their eyelids finally grow too heavy to keep open, Kris opens the comment section, typing out a garbled token of appreciation.
applepiee
stayingf up lte to reqad at 3 am on a weekday. this s peak 10/10. will wriret more detailed comente later thanks suthor. i love you
With that very coherent and calm token of appreciation, Kris goes to sleep.
The next morning, they are awoken, not by Mom, but by the 5:30 alarm they set so they wouldn't get in trouble for waking up late.
God, they're so tired. Kris wants to sleep. Forever. They want to never have to think about anything ever again.
And why the hell did they have to set their ringtone to the Mew Mew OP? They know why—Because their dumbass thought that hearing a song they loathe with every fiber of their being in the morning would fill them with a rage that'd wake them right now.
It doesn't. It just makes them angry and tired.
Kris shuts off the alarm with a groan, resolving to try and check that fanfiction site again—Maybe some cute fics will help take the edge off.
There's a comment in their inbox.
HolidayGirl1225
I can tell X) Thanks so much for checking out my Girl x Cage fic!!! I usually Write Girl x Lover x Cage stuff sooo this was kinda new for me! I was REALLY worried how people would feel about this lol, so your comment means a lot! I'm really looking forward to hearing more from you!
'HolidayGirl1225'?
Kris pushes down the strange feeling they have about that. Whatever. That's probably nothing to worry about. Besides, they have bigger problems than the identity of some fanfiction author whose work they like.
Kris decides to do something more productive with their life. Like doomscrolling on their phone. And not looking into whatever homework it is they probably got assigned.
Ragebait. More ragebait. Even more ragebait. Kris's thumb is getting tired.
And then, suddenly, in what is either a blessing from the heavens or some sort of weapon manifest aimed straight for their heart, comes the most high quality Girl x Cage edit they have ever seen.
In one of the frames, the Girl slams the Cage against a locker. The Cage has a lime green sweater with a yellow strip in the middle and bright red eyes.
Kris drops their phone on the bed like it's burning up, sitting up with a start. Okay. They're definitely wide awake now.
It's around six right now—They spent a solid half an hour doomscrolling, but there's still a lot more time to kill. After all, they don't want to show up to class early like a total nerd.
…And, well, if they did, they'd be alone with Noelle.
Kris pulls up that fanfiction site. Maybe some actually fun reading will help pass the time. That work they commented on last night—Where did they leave off?
"How could you?" The girl cried. Her voice was shaking as she slammed The Cage into the ground with all her might. "I thought— I thought…"
That's enough.
Maybe Kris should call it quits on the phone. They look at the forgotten blank sheet of homework on the floor—It's probably easy enough to do, just as all of Alphys's assignments are, but Kris usually doesn't like to do them because they are really, really boring and suck ass.
What's this one about?
Kris picks up the sheet, and takes a look at the first prompt:
Describe the impact of 'The Girl' in Angelism on how heroes are written in modern media.
…
The world has it out for them today.
Perhaps this is their penitence for all they have hurt, all the people around them whose kindness has been met with the ruination that Kris cannot help but bring.
Kris picks up their pen and resigns themself to just filling out the worksheet. Maybe that'll help them get dessert privileges back faster.
By the time they finish—A task that takes much longer than they should by virture of Kris pausing every other minute to spend a minute more lamenting how cruel it is that Alphys assigned this as work and how much this worksheet sucks—It's 7:15 AM. Still pretty early, but, eh—Kris could probably afford to go to school by now. The walk to school will also probably take up a decent chunk of their time.
So Kris grabs the bouquet and sets out as quietly as they can, sending Mom a text that they left early.
The streets of Hometown are nice and empty in the morning. Kris should probably savor their ability to enjoy this as themself while they can.
As they enter the small classroom, however, their throat immediately tightens up at the sight they'd been dreading.
Noelle. And she definitely noticed them.
Dread pools up in their gut, then guilt for feeling dread at all. Why should they dread encountering Noelle? Sweet, kind Noelle, who wants nothing more than to reach out to them and mend their former friendship—Or was it something else?
But that's why they dread seeing her. Because Kris knows they can't give her what they want, that the only thing left for them to do is bring back the person she really wants.
"Heya, Kris!" Noelle says as they sit with a signature cheery wave, as if on autopilot. "Didn't seeya there!"
She just saw them enter. They saw her eyes following them.
"…" Kris plucks one of the petals from their bouquet, drawing Noelle's attention.
"Gosh, that's one big bouquet! What'dja bring it for?" Something curls up in their gut, hot and angry, the thought that this isn't their Noelle, but a template of what people think she should be. Her voice is stifled and stiff, just going through the motions of it all.
They stifle the thought immediately. She's not 'their' Noelle in the first place.
Kris shrugs.
"Mom wanted me to get rid of it." And they picked it up on instinct, like an idiot. What exactly can they even do with this? It's not like they can actually give it to Susie.
Kris's eyes dart to the floor—And suddenly, it comes to their attention that the piece of paper from before is missing.
"I saw a crumpled paper on here with a drawing Susie made of you," Noelle notes. "U-Um, it was labelled with the word 'loser', though! Which is horrible, I mean… um, she should really stop bullying so much! You should swap seats with me, y'know. I keep suggesting it!"
Kris squints at her scrutinizingly, though they know she can't see their expression through their bangs.
I know you want what I have.
And they're not giving it up any time soon. If Noelle wants to be slammed into a locker by Susie, maybe she should up her game.
Kris immediately hates themself for thinking that way. This is Noelle's crush, one good thing she has, a good thing she deserves—Why isn't Kris being more supportive? They want her to find happiness, after all, and Susie probably likes her back, anyways.
But it's not like it matters. Eventually, between Noelle and Susie, one of them'll work up the nerves to confess, and then, they'll be happy and in love. Kris is okay with not getting that. They don't deserve such affections.
Still, different people have different relationships. Kris has long learned that every single relationship is completely unique—Categorizations such as 'romance' and 'friendship' simply describe commonalities in different relationships, and cannot prescribe anything.
Noelle is someone who, despite her thoughts, would, in truth, both enjoy and deserve a loving and wholesome Schilleresque romance with someone who gently but surely pushes her out of her box and brings her into a new world free of monotony.
Kris is different.
The door slams open, and in walks Susie.
Her gaze immediately homes in on them.
"Nice bouquet, Dreemurr," she says, plucking a flower out and biting off the bud, tossing the stem to the floor. "Y'got it for your girlfriend or something?"
Kris raises a brow at the way she said 'girlfriend'—What girlfriend? In what world does Kris Dreemurr have a girlfriend?
"Gosh, you've got a girlfriend, Kris?" Noelle says, before immediately registering Susie's presence and freaking out. "A-And, um— Hey, Susie! Nice to see you! As always!"
Susie immediately startles upon seeing Noelle.
"Oh, I… Didn't seeya there. Heh," She laughs awkwardly, immediately stepping away from Kris. "Kris and I were just… Y'know…"
"Having some friendly conversation," they supplement with a wink, leading her to smack their shoulder roughly.
"Yeah," she says, though briefly, she bares her teeth at them in warning. "'Friendly conversation'."
Noelle glances at Susie, then at them, then back at Susie.
"Um, faha, sure…" She says, voice slightly wistful, perhaps wishing that Susie would smack her shoulder as well.
WIth that, she turns her head to the front of the classroom, evidently trying not to ogle Susie too hard.
A voice, low and proud, whispers right up by Kris's ear.
"I'll be taking that," Susie murmurs, sending a shiver down their spine as she snatches the bouquet, and—in one, swift motion—Devours it.
God, that was so hot.
Kris immediately tries to bury that thought. Bad Kris. No slobbering over Susie when Noelle is right there and yearning with all her might. Also, that definitely isn't a socially acceptable thought to have.
Then again, when has Kris ever been in any capacity someone to abide by social norms?
Dammit, they'll never be able to rid themself of this behavior at the rate things are going right now.
Hmm. Maybe Kris should try training themself like a dog? Dogs work best with positive reinforcement. When disciplining a canine, it's considered best form to reward good behaviors rather than actively punishing bad ones. Should punishments be employed, they should be negative punishements, such as taking away access to certain privileges and— Wait, isn't that what Mom did to them yesterday?
…
Kris elects not to think about that. Instead, they sit very, very still, scrolling on their phone as they wait for class to start. There's a text from their mom.
Mom
I see you are serious about earning your dessert privileges back. L.O.L.!
(That is an acronym for 'Lots of Laughter'.)
Kris immediately closes the phone, reeling, only to open it again, still in search of entertainment. No pranks—They need to earn dessert privileges back ASAP, and they're not reading that one fanfiction until they're emotionally prepared to handle the crushing misery—so probably never.
They could, however, read some others. Didn't the author have some other works they mentioned? Those could be more lighthearted.
Kris pulls up her profile and has a gander.
Immediately, though, they find themself pulling back. It's one thing to do it with Susie—The Girl—messed up as it is, but with Noelle, The Lover? Reading works of fiction depicting her in a romantic relationship with them?
Kris immediately closess the tab, instead deciding to look up something cooler. Like, ah, cute dog videos. Anime critiques.
Or, wait—Kris could hatewatch Mew Mew Kissy Cutie again. They have the whole series downloaded for that very purpose.
Pulling up the playlist they have saved in putting their earbuds in, Kris gets to watching, cringing every time some cliche phrase is said in an overly enthusiastic voice.
They're midway through the first episode when the bell rings, and they, with reluctance—because of how much they enjoyed criticizing it, of course—Put away their phone and resolve to start taking notes on the lecture. With this and their homework, maybe they can get dessert privileges back by the end of the day.
Alphys clears her throat.
"Ahem," she says, clearing her throat. "If you did your homework, please— Please raise your hand!"
Noelle and Berdly's hands shoot up.
"Anyone… Anyone else?" Alphys asks nervously.
Kris raises their hand as well.
"K-Kris?" Alphys gasps, unable to contain her surprise. "You, eheh, you aren't joking, are you? Um! No offense, I mean."
Kris simply pulls out the sheet, waving it up in the air for her to collect. She takes it, immediately looking through it, expression contorting in shock.
"This is… actually. Uh, really thorough," she says. "Have you! Um, studied the prophecy or something?"
She really doesn't want the answer to that.
"So, my slothful rival decided to turn in their work for once," Berdly harrumphs. "A C-Minus for effort. But my work is undoubtedly superior to their foolish scribblings!"
"Eheh, right," Alphys says, though she doesn't seem to believe her own words.
"Y'got so much potential," Susie grits out under her breath, bitter, mocking. "A real prodigy."
Kris doesn't respond to that.
Class continues as normal after that. Kris takes notes, and tries not to fall asleep, yearning for the dessert they so desire.
Midway through the lesson, though, Susie pokes them.
"Hey, freak," she says. "Lemme copy your notes."
Now that's an unexpected development.
"Since when were you so interested in the lesson?" They say. It's an earnest question, but again, it gets taken as mockery, and Susie snarls.
"Just shut up and gimme the damn paper," she says. Kris bites their lip, trying yet failing to muster up an apology.
They hand her the filled out sheet of paper.
Susie grabs it with surprising gentleness, taking care not to let the sheet rip as she copies down what they've written. But it's just notes, not homework. Kris doesn't even want to take notes—They're just doing this to appease their mother.
"Yo, Kris," MK whispers to them. "Can I have your notes too? I gotta pass this next test or I'm totally grounded, too!"
And of course, because this is a small town and they've grown up together, they know Kris very, very well, so they add—"I'll get you a chocolate bar!"
Kris flashes them a discreet thumbs up.
"Thanks, dude!" They say, sighing with insurmountable relief.
Susie's eyes linger on them as the interaction happens, though she says nothing.
The rest of class involves Kris taking notes and passing them around until just about everyone, for some reason, has copied at least one sentence off of Kris's notes. Even Berdly—They really thought he'd have too much pride for that, but he just claimed that he "Wished to observe his rival's mediocre handiwork", while discreetly scribbling down on his paper.
Why? What makes their notes so special? Does everyone in this class just like copying other people?
…Actually, considering how often Noelle gets asked to lend her notes out to others, Kris really shouldn't be surprised.
"What a smart cookie, huh?" Susie says, eyeing them derisively once the others leave. "Y'take notes one time, do your homework one time, and it's the talk of the town, 'cause you're just so smart, and your work is so good."
Kris blinks.
Right.
Susie envies them, at the end of the day—all her actions stem from that. Kris doesn't get it, after all-
"Nothing all that enviable," says Kris with a grimace. "People just like copying."
"I'm not jealous of you, Dreemurr," she snarls. Kris tries not to ogle her teeth this time. "Just— God, y'got so much good shit going on in your life, and you walk around actin' like you've got it rough. Do you even know how many people would kill to have it as good as you?"
She's towering directly above them, now, the close contact making their heart race.
But more than that…
Her bangs are tousled and spread out enough to let them see her eyes. Wide, shining, rounded eyes, glistening with upset. She looks hurt. Miserable.
And her eyes are, like, a really pretty yellow. Probably the prettiest shade of amber they've ever seen. Kris wants to stare at them forever. They want her to start showing her eyes so they can get lost in them while she's pinning them against various surfaces.
"Your eyes are gorgeous," they say instead of expressing any of those thoughts, shooting her a finger gun and a wink. Susie immediately flushes beet red, rushing to cover them back up—much to Kris's disappointment.
"You— Are you seriously making fun of me right now, you freak?" She grumbles. "I could—"
Then, she steps back, letting out a long sigh.
"Whatever. Seeya later, freak," she says. And with that, Susie's out of the classroom.
Kris takes that as their cue to leave. Wouldn't wanna keep Mom worrying, after all.
…
Even if— Even if Susie resents them right now, envies them for having everything she does not, Kris still does care for her, even beyond their little crush.
They really hope they can make friends with her before the end of their lifetime.