Verva

16 any/all

[minervahallowell]

Me casually working on three fics while a test that determines my future looms over me

(Real footage of my brain fighting between studying and writing)

[minervahallowell]

It was like that the whole time I was writing. Homophobic google docs trying to sabotage me grrr. Also, it kept autocorrecting a bunch of words to the default American spelling, like realization instead of realisation.

[cssandraa]

vampire blue that i started made on twitter

[minervahallowell]

AppleBiter — Kris x Bat!Reader (2)

Untangling your own feelings had never been your strong suit. Yet here you were, trying to make sense of how you felt about Kris after the events of that fateful night.

Part 1

Warnings: Blood, love bites, nausea, vomiting, tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst, bad memory, touch starved kris and reader, slightly unreliable narrator, implied abuse, implied eating disorder, implied stalking, jealousy, extremely suggestive but nothing explicit, breaking and entering, mutual pinning, dissociation, hyperawareness.

DISCLAIMER: None of the serious symptoms depicted in this fic, like ED and dissociation, are intended to be romanticised.

I sadly couldn’t include a lot of the things I wanted to put in this fic because I reached the limit and had to cut some parts out 😭 I wanted it to be more fluffier….

I also wanted to reverse the usual roles in a “vampire” story, where the supposed vampire isn’t the one selfishly driven by a desire to bite and drink blood

Also, I hope the switch between the reader being hyperaware and dissociated the next is an ok transition

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You couldn’t breathe. Not when they were on top of you, straddling your hips down, sitting harshly on you with their legs settled on either side of your body, forcing you down anytime you moved with a small hop against your clothed flush.

Your chest heaved beneath their weight, your wings pinned awkwardly behind you. It left your arms trapped and painfully stiff at your sides, even as your body practically begged for more of the friction between you.

Kris stared down at you through the dark fringe of their hair, their face flushed, their hands planted firmly against your shoulders. Every time you tried to shift, every subtle twitch of your hips brought that relentless, grounding weight back down, sending a dizzying wave of heat straight to your core.

You tried to reach out to pull them closer, but a sharp, stinging pain shot through your wings, threatening to tear them if you forced your arms upwards. It was torture. You lay completely paralysed under their addictive touch, desperate for more while you could do nothing but watch them tease you.

They leaned down, the dark bangs of their hair sweeping across your cheeks like soft velvet. The scent of apples was suffocatingly sweet now, heavy in the air between you. Kris’ eyes held yours, unblinking, red, and utterly consuming, before their lips brushed the sensitive curve of your throat. A low, desperate whine caught in your chest, but before you could surrender to the heat—

The world around you dissolved, leaving only Kris’ weight across your lap, staring up at you with an expression you couldn’t quite identify, eyes half lidded, a faint smile resting on their lips. Despite the unfamiliarity, you met their gaze with the same quiet energy.

You felt your hand reach up, fingers sinking into the soft brown locs you loved so much. You brushed their cheek ever so gently as they tugged at the fabric of your clothes, pulling you down until your face hovered just above theirs. You melted into their pull, entirely unable to tear your eyes away…until the soft drip of a single droplet broke your trance, a solitary bead of red landing upon their cheek.

You watched as the light in their eyes slowly faded, wetness dripping sweet and heavy from your mouth onto their cooling skin, staining their sweater with a crimson that matched their now lifeless eyes.

Thick and suffocating, the sweet taste clung to the back of your throat. You tried desperately to cough it free, staining Kris’ colourless face as though painting a blank canvas with their own blood. Their fading smile burned behind your eyelids, mocking you, forgiving you for an unforgivable act. You had wanted them so intensely that you had consumed them, turning your longing into a fatal, sinister hunger.

No matter how violently you tried to spit out Kris’ blood, it only welled up faster, filling your throat with sweet liquid until you choked on the weight of your own sick desires.

You bolted upright from bed with a strangled gasp, your heart hammering violently against your ribs as you tore your eyes open to the dim morning light.

Panic seized your chest. You shoved your hands out in front of you, wild and trembling, expecting to see them dripping with vibrant red, covered in the horrific proof of what you'd done.

There was nothing. Your palms were completely clean.

Your heaving breath slowly quieted as the realisation washed over you. It was just a dream. Kris was alive. Safe. Probably fast asleep in their own bed across town.

Yet as you sat there shaking in the quiet dark, the lingering phantom heat refused to leave you. Your body was still thrumming from the dream’s earlier intimacy, your throat parched, and beneath the sheets, you were embarrassingly wet..

You buried your face in your clean hands, mortified by the intoxicating mess your mind had made.

Days had passed since that night, though you never spoke of it. No matter how desperately you tried to forget, the guilt refused to let you go. It lingered like a stain in the back of your mind, waiting until you fell asleep to hunt you down in your dreams.

You couldn't sleep that first night back from the beach after what happened. Left alone in the dark, your own mind became a horrifying, endless maze. What used to accompany you into quiet sleep now felt like a cruel tormentor. Your once treasured daydreams were replaced entirely by nightmares, and your poetic perspective on life soured into impulsive and intrusive thoughts.

It was all because of Kris. Because you couldn't resist your own curiosity. You were right to keep your distance all those years. A single day in their presence, and you had nearly cost them their life.

An over exaggeration, maybe, but the truth remained. It starts with a gentle bite at their throat, turns into drawing blood, and ends with you sucking them dry until they're gone.

Yes, you were justified in pulling away that night. You just wished you had rejected them sooner... maybe then it wouldn’t be so painful running into them. Not that it happened often these days. They were barely ever in class, and you almost always skipped the second you saw them arrive. The air between you was suffocatingly tense.

No, no. That was a good thing. The distance between you was necessary. It was good, because you had come to realise just how unpredictable your body became whenever Kris was near. The moment they stepped into the room, you became hyperaware of every single breath, every heartbeat, every movement.

But ignoring them was torture, too.

Hot tears pricked your eyelids, your chest tightening so hard it threatened to crack. Your throat burned, dry and tight as your body braced itself to sob again.Why did avoiding Kris take so much out of you? What was it about them that made you crave getting closer, even now?

You stubbornly shoved aside the most shameful answer, the wet heat pulsing between your legs, and focused on taking slow, measured breaths, forcing the tears back down.

You couldn’t cry. No, not today. You had volunteered to read during the church service, a role you couldn't back out of now. You rarely went to church and had certainly never volunteered, but Ms. Boom had caught you in the middle of a dissociation episode the other day and insisted that attending service would help settle your nerves.

She mumbled something about you hanging around Catti and her demon shenanigans too much, as if a few hymns could somehow purge whatever dark influence was lingering over you.

You would have refused, but she’d already informed your parents. So today, you had to look completely fine for the scripture reading. You just needed to get through it so Ms. Boom wouldn't try to enlist you in any more activities.

At least Noelle and Jockington would be there…but you weren’t exactly hyped to see them sinc—

“OMG! My favourite BAT is here!!”

Your eyes snapped towards the voice, disbelief washing over you as Catty appeared in front of you. But she wasn’t in your bedroom, you weren’t lying in bed, and you weren’t at home at all. Somehow, by some unbelievable trick of your own feet, you had walked all the way to church. You couldn't even remember if your parents had walked beside you or if you'd drifted here entirely alone.

"Like, why are you staring at me like that?! LOL! You're, like, totally freaking me out!?"

You felt your shoulders drop as you let out a long, trembling breath, waiting for your brain to catch up with a proper response.

"Well—um.." you began, but Catty, completely impatient, cut in to finish your sentence for you, adding a few extra words to your mouth for good measure.

"OMG, don't tell me you're nervous! That's so stinking CUTE!!" She let out a growl of sheer cute aggression, throwing her hands up in the air with a dramatic flare before pressing on. "Don't worry, SWEETIE!! I can, like, totally help you with your speech thingy!"

You just let her continue yapping, catching only disjointed snippets of the conversation while your mind drifted, desperately trying to piece together how you had even gotten here. One moment you were lying in bed, and now... this. Unintentional wandering happened to you sometimes, but it had been occurring far too often lately. Usually, you had at least a lingering awareness that you were moving on autopilot.

Were you even dressed properly? You glanced down nervously at your outfit. You weren't in your pyjamas anymore, having somehow managed to pull on your usual clothes. Did you even brush your hair? You reached up to check, finding your strands surprisingly untangled and in place. You exhaled, calming down a fraction (“I found a game you and Noelle would totally love!!”) You really didn't want to look like a complete mess in front of Ms. Boom today.

You just hoped you were prepared for the read—wait..

You stared down at your empty hands, then frantically patted down your pockets. Where were they? Where were the fucking notes for the speech? (“It’s an RPG ROMANCE game and OMG, I’m like so in love with—“) You searched yourself with a strangely detached posture. Your fingers felt entirely numb, as if they weren't even touching your own body. It felt like nothing at all. Was that how it felt when other people touched you? You couldn't even remember—

Suddenly, the phantom memory of Kris’ beating chest against yours flooded your senses. The ghost of their hands resting on your hips sent a violent shiver down your spine. You definitely remembered that touch. It still haunts you (“—this is such a bonding experience for the both of you to, like, to—“) Their terrifyingly soft grip, the lingering sensation of today's nightmare where they hovered over you, teasing you with each rock of their hips. You trembled, sickened by the realisation..how could you recall the touch of a dream so vividly, yet feel entirely hollow to your own hands?

You craved it. You craved them. You wanted to see them, to be that close again, to feel the steady thud of their heartbeat against your chest, to recreate that drea—

You gagged, a sudden wave of revulsion rising in your throat as the rest of the memory caught up with you. Why on earth would you want that? It was vile, utterly shameful, and you hated yourself for it. Most of all, you hated the image seared into your mind.. their lifeless body lying limp across your lap.

"Um, what the FREAK, Batsy!? Why would you, like, gag and stuff?"

Catty's voice snapped you straight out of the terrifying image your brain had decided to curse you with.

"Oh, I—um—“ you stammered, only just realising your hands were still frantically digging through your pockets for the notes you'd forgotten.

"OMG, you poor thing! DW!! I have, like, the exact thing you're missing!" She thrust a crumpled sheet of paper into your hands.

"I stole it from the church LOL!" she explained, tossing her head back with a loud laugh. "But like, only cuz I’m planning on volunteering one day!"

She beamed, thoroughly praising herself while you quickly snatched the notes, offering her a string of breathless thank yous to show your appreciation.

“Just make sure to give me a shout out for this!”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You met up with Noelle shortly after Father Alvin explained when you were meant to give the reading. Sitting quietly, you watched the choir practise, your eyes tracking each member in turn. You forced yourself to focus (“Heaven knows the story that we’ve born from our hearts”) to lock onto anything external because thinking had become dangerous lately.

The moment your mind slipped, the memory returned—

You winced as a graphic image of a dying Kris flickered across your vision, hastily smothering it by staring intently at Noelle's choir robes. It was the same traditional Delta Rune robe everyone in the room wore, except for you and Snowy’s dad.

You’re eyes flickered to Father Alvin.

Father Alvin was genuinely the kindest priest you'd ever known (“Of the shadows cutting deep and the heroes that save us”) Not that you had much of a point of comparison. You used to look up to him when you were younger, wishing you could be half as gentle, though you doubted you had the right to dream of kindness anymore. You’d loved his father, too (“Hevan knows—“) Gerson Boom, author of Lord of the Hammer. You’d devoured those books, even if the series was left unfinished. You wondered if Kris enjoyed—

Another image of you choking on blood slammed into your brain.

‘Stop thinking!’ you screamed at yourself.

You tried to force a complete mental blank, but emptiness only came naturally when you weren't actively trying. Now, you were just spiralling into the paradox of thinking about not thinking.

You're thinking right now, aren't you? Just now? How do you stop? Okay, just stop. Now!

(“The beauty of the soul”)

...Now!

(“And we weep”)

...Now...?

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips. You couldn't clear your mind through force..you needed absolute, engrossing action to drown out the noise.

You stared back at the choir, wondering if their minds were this loud, or if they were trapped in their own heads right now. But you couldn't focus on them. Your internal voice was deafening, self-correcting, spiralling unt— god, you just wanted to bite Kris—

Panic seized you. You frantically unfolded the notes Catty had given you, plastering your eyes to the text before the horrors in your head caught up with you.

You mechanically repeated every word on the page, forcing your lips to move. But trying to drown out the dark thoughts invading your mind was suffocating. Father Alvin must have noticed your distress, because the next thing you knew, he was sitting beside you.

His voice carried a tender, paternal worry (“To the majesty and—“) the kind of quiet warmth you’d longed for growing up. Yet you could barely hear a word he said over the roar of your own mind. You caught enough to gather he wanted to help you practise, so you read aloud from the notes while he listened, patiently correcting a mispronounced word here, a nervous stutter there.

He praised your composure, commending you for performing so well under stress. He was completely oblivious to the fact that you couldn't even hear your own voice anymore. You knew you were speaking (“—pray we not forget”) you felt your throat move..but the words were hopelessly drowned out, buried beneath the deafening din of your own monologue.

“The tales of DELTARUNE”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The speech went fine.. you were fairly sure it did, at least. Your nerves had finally settled, stepping down from that terrifying edge of hyperawareness, replaced by the familiar relief of dissociation. Once again, you were a spectator in your own fur, watching your body speak and move as if viewed on a screen from a safe, quiet distance.

The whole ordeal passed without incident, but right before you stepped back, you caught Catty's wild, expectant grin from the front row.

"Also, shout out to Catty for helping me out today."

An absolute wall of cheer and applause erupted from the Cattienheimer family, cutting straight through the quiet pews and making Father Alvin jump slightly.

You couldn't help the fond smile that crept onto your face watching Catty’s wildly affectionate family make a scene. The rest of the morning passed in a blur. You caught up briefly with Noelle and Jockington, but both of them had plans, which came as a quiet relief. All you wanted was to retreat to your room. After all, nothing numbed your thoughts faster than being back under the same roof as your parents.

Ms. Boom, however, had other plans. She gestured for you to sit beside her, and you complied. You couldn't remember much of what she rambled on about, though it clearly revolved around how out of it you still looked. She should have seen you this morning... you were far more of a wreck then than you are now.

"You have nice friends who worry about you," she said gently.

You looked up, meeting her eyes, wondering which friends she could possibly mean. Deep down, you didn't even know who you were hoping to hear. Maybe Kris?

‘No, not them.’ You forced the thought down, shoving Kris right back into the dark corners of your mind before their image could take root.

Who does she mean, though? Noelle?

But it certainly wasn't who she actually named.. "Burghley, that polite young man, has been terribly worried about you." One of your eyebrows twitched upward as you stared at her. “He’s told me all about your time together,” she babbled on, oblivious. “That sweet boy has been so concerned, wondering where you've been.”

You looked away, the sheer absurdity of Berdly being genuinely worried about you failing to make sense. You hadn't even played games with him since you didn’t want to face Kri—

Without warning, the sensation of Kris’ skin against your tongue flared to life. A shudder ripped through your spine as you desperately tried to shake the pleasant(?) sensory ghost out of your head.

"Child, are you alright? You don't look well," Ms. Boom said, her voice dripping with maternal concern.

A hot wave of embarrassment washed over you. You were supposed to prove to her that you were completely fine, which you were, mostly..yet you kept slipping up.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” you replied quickly, trying to reassure that there’s nothing wrong.

She clearly wasn’t convinced, continuing to press you with generic questions and mundane advice. You just kept nodding along to everything she said, letting the familiar phrases wash over you: “Are you sleeping enough?” “Are you eating properly?” “Have you tried praying more?” It was nothing you hadn’t heard a thousand times before, but every agreement you offered was met with that same suspicious little hum, a clear sign she didn’t believe a single word out of your mouth.

Do you look horrible, is that why? Do you look like you haven’t slept or eaten anything in days? What’s wrong with the way you look? Would they agree?

"Have you tried calling a helpline?" she asked gently.

You turned around to face her properly, your brow furrowing. "Helpline?"

Without waiting for an answer, she began explaining how crisis support services worked, her tone soft and practiced, before slipping a small slip of paper into your hand.

You didn’t need 'help'. You were just being dramatic, craving attention and now you’d dragged Ms. Boom into it. Satisfied now? Thrilled that someone was fretting over you? Was that the whole point of this pathetic act?

Offering Ms. Boom a quiet, polite, ‘Thank you,’ you stood up and made your exit. Her concern was sweet, truly, but a helpline wasn't going to solve a thing.

Glancing down at the small slip of paper, you tried to imagine a future where you actually made the call. Would it even help? You doubted it. What were you even supposed to say? ‘Hi, I’m a fruit bat who almost bit a human for their blood’? That felt like a fast track to getting locked away, not helped.

A quiet giggle escaped your lips at the sheer irony of Ms. Boom thinking this little paper could fix anything. Your legs carried you out of the church on autopilot while your eyes remained fixed on the numbers in your hand.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It was wearing you down to the bone, waking up every single day flushed, sweating, and pants soaked in shame from another indecent dream about Kris. Nothing about your body made sense anymore. If only interpreting your body’s reactions was as straightforward as reading the familiar faces scattered around the classroom.

You tried to focus on the board to keep the dark thoughts at bay, but more often than not, your body just caved to the sleep deprivation and let you pass out at your desk. You fought the urge to check Kris’ desk, but every glance at that empty chair left a stinging prickle of guilt behind.

Jockington had been grilling you for days about what was going on with Kris. Noelle and Catti were worried too, but they kept their curiosity to themselves, dropping subtle hints in small talk but backing off if you stayed quiet. Eventually, even Jockington backed off when he saw how nauseous the topic made you look. But the silence between you all remained heavy with everything left unsaid about that night.

That was how you ended up back in a voice call with Berdly. You’d felt a pang of remorse for dropping off the grid on him when he hadn't done anything wrong. Knowing he’d been worried about you made you view him in a slightly kinder light. Plus, Kris had explicitly told you to try playing with him for real.

“Have you done the new event for this game?”

The bright gaming monitor flared in front of you as Berdly’s avatar twitched on screen, pulling you sharply out of the fog. Your breath caught. You were in the middle of class two seconds ago, weren't you? You forced yourself to swallow. The dissociation was getting sneaky. You’d spike into total hyperawareness, crash, and then numb out for days at a time. The hours just bled away. Life just didn't feel solid enough to care about missing the gaps.

“Oh, no,” you answered softly into your mic. “I skipped this event. The rewards weren’t really worth the grind.”

“Not worth the grind?” A sharp, condescending chuckle echoed through your headset, followed by him repeating your name three times in rapid, theatrical succession.

Oh boy. Here comes the yapping.

“My dear number 6, have you completely lost your mind?” Berdly scoffed, his avatar frantically crouch spamming in front of yours to grab your attention. “The drop rate for the limited edition wing glider alone is statistical gold! It boosts your mobility stat by a whopping three percent! Do you have any idea what three percent means in hightier competitive raids? It’s the difference between glory and absolute, utter embarrassment!”

You leaned back in your chair, letting the steady stream of high pitched jargon wash over you. On screen, his character was flailing wildly, gesturing at empty air as if presenting to a crowded auditorium.

It was exhausting. But in a weird, twisted way... it was almost comforting.

Berdly didn't ask why you looked like a corpse during class or why your eyes were bloodshot. He didn't drop subtle, worried hints like Noelle, or glare at you with heavy suspicion like Catti, or press you until you turned pale like Jockington.

To Berdly, the absolute biggest tragedy in your life right now was your lack of optimal gaming gear.

“…are you even listening to me?” His voice dropped out of his grand monologue, a small beat of actual hesitation breaking through his usual bravado. His avatar stopped jumping around and just stood there, staring directly at yours. “You’ve been... exceedingly quiet lately. Not that I mind having the floor, of course! A master orator needs an audience. But usually you’d have told me to shut up by now.”

You stared at the glowing monitor, your hands feeling unnaturally heavy on the keyboard and mouse.

“I’m listening,” you muttered softly into the mic, forcing your fingers to tap a movement key so your character nudged forward. “Just… tired, Berdly. That’s all.”

“Tired?” He let out another scoff, though this one sounded a little forced, lacking his usual bite. “Honestly, what is everyone in this town doing to be so perpetually exhausted? First Kris acts like a literal zombie when they bother showing up, and now you’re turning into a ghost. It’s severely ruining the team dynamic!.”

The casual mention of Kris’ name hit you like a bucket of ice water. Your breath hitched in your throat, the phantom taste of sweet blood creeping right back onto the tip of your tongue.

“H-how are they?” You heard yourself ask, cussing under your breath the second the words left your mouth. Well... there was no harm in knowing if they were doing okay, right? It was a basic, normal question.

“Why don’t you ask each other that, considering you’re both asking?” Berdly huffed into his mic, his tone dripping with self important exasperation. “Honestly, I am a gaming prodigy, not a feather bound courier owl—well, I’m pretty sure I’m not an Owl. I’m actually planning on taking a DNA test to check my full lineage and ethnicity. Personally, I suspect I have a percentage of majestic eagle blood in me—”

Your fingers froze over your keyboard.

...considering you’re both asking?

The rest of his grand speech about avian bloodlines completely blurred into meaningless background noise. Your heart gave a violent, sickening thud against your ribs.

“Wait,” you cut across his babble, your voice sounding thin and raspy in your own ears. “Berdly, What did Kris say?”

“Oh, the usual cryptic mumbling!” Berdly dismissed with a wave of his avatar’s arm. “They pop up sometimes asking if I’d seen you, if you were playing tonight, whether you were ‘doing alright’. As if I’m your personal secretary! I told them that if they wanted a full status update on my second in command, they’d have to queue up like everyone else.”

He let out a proud little snort, completely unaware of the absolute blackout storm happening on your end of the call.

You felt your chest flutter. Kris was checking up on you through Berdly. Or perhaps they were simply being polite. Either way, they hadn’t forgotten you. They knew you were slipping. Or maybe... maybe they wanted to see if you were ready to talk? No, you were going to avoid them.

“Did they... say anything else?” you whispered, barely daring to ask. Completely ignoring your own words about avoiding them, the phantom memory of their skin suddenly making your mouth feel feverish and warm again.

“Not that I’m aware of, no,” Berdly answered, his voice crackling through the headset and making you drop your head onto your desk in heavy disappointment.

You wanted to know more about Kris. You wanted to. No, you needed to talk about Kris despite your efforts not to. It was impossible with your usual circle of friends. Sitting with Noelle, Catti, and Jockington felt like walking on eggshells. They cared too much, observed too closely, and kept asking heavy questions about that night.

But Berdly? Berdly was completely blissfully unaware. To him, nothing catastrophic had happened. Asking him about Kris felt surprisingly safe, like sneaking a peek through a closed door without having to open it. There was no harm in using him as a buffer, right?

You swallowed down the sneaking butterflies in your chest that threatened to climb straight through your throat, forcing yourself to clear your dry voice.

“So… are they doing well?” you asked softly.

Berdly let out a short, scoffing snort into his microphone. “Well, better than usual? No.” He paused, his avatar turning to face yours. “Why the sudden fascination with Kris’ wellbeing anyway? Don’t tell me you two are keeping secrets from me. As your team captain, I must insist on full transparency!”

You gripped the edge of your desk, your heart giving a hard, uneasy thud against your ribs. The contrast was almost absurd. Berdly teasing you over stupid video game hierarchy while your brain churned with raw memories of Kris’ skin, the watery sweet blood on your tongue, and the alarming urge that had nearly consumed you.

“No secrets,” you lied, your voice surprisingly steady. “Just… making sure they’re still alive.”

“Ha! Valid point,” Berdly laughed, completely taking the bait. “With Kris, one can never truly be certain. Now, enough about our enigmatic classmate! Are we running this raid or are you going to leave me hanging at the entrance all night?”

You stared at the glowing monitor, your thumb hovering over the movement keys as the quiet room seemed to settle heavily around you.

It went on like that for days. Every time you gamed together, you’d find a way to slide Kris into the conversation, your face flushing hot even at the most mundane questions “How did you two start playing together?” “Got any funny stories about them?” “Do they still get online with you?” “Who’s their main?” Berdly was always happy to answer, though he inevitably steered the topic straight back to his favourite subject: himself.

“Kris started out as an obnoxious prank caller,” Berdly scoffed over the mic. “Though they did help me get my Minecrap save back after I deleted it by mistake. We’ve been co-oping ever since.”

Just hearing about Kris made you feel lighter than you had in days. It was pathetic, really, how hungry you were for any piece of information. You started wanting to bring them up, to ask around, to keep them in conversation, but you couldn't. You didn't understand this sudden, overwhelming obsession, only that exposing it to the rest of the world felt entirely out of the question for someone who almost hurt them.

No matter how many times you told yourself to keep your distance, you kept breaking your own rules. You’d catch yourself walking around the neighborhood for no reason, constantly looking out for a flash of green and yellow. Seeing them sit there looking completely dead inside didn't help at all. If anything, that empty expression just made the awful, restless itch in your chest ten times worse.

You walked the same loops around town every single day, but Kris just wasn't coming out. You’d spot them going to their dad’s flower shop every now and then, but the place was deserted today. The only sign of life was Asgore’s faint silhouette moving around inside.

‘BZZT’

The sudden rattle of your phone against your hip snapped the fog away, pulling you back to the cold air of the street.

You pulled your phone from your pocket, squinting at the glowing lock screen.

‘Hii! X’) Catti and I are having a sleepover at her house, we miss you’

It was from Noelle. Your phone buzzed again in your palm (‘BZZT’). You hadn't really hung out with them lately. She was probably worried about you drifting away.

‘Want to come over?’

You stared at the text, hesitating for a moment. Truthfully, you missed them too. And unlike Jockington, Catti and Noelle never cornered you or pressured you to talk about things you weren't ready to share. Besides... Maybe a night away from your own room, surrounded by familiar friends, would finally put an end to those humiliating, wet and bloody dreams about Kris.

You pulled up your keypad, typed out a quick reply agreeing to come over.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It was remarkably nice being around your friends again. You spent the night curled up watching trashy horror movies, having your fortune read through Catti’s tarot cards, and trading spooky urban legends in the dim light. You and Noelle even helped out in the kitchen with Mrs. Catteinheimer..though, considering most of what was prepared ended up being actual cat food, you and Noelle made sure to whip up a separate dish that was actually edible for the two of you.

Soon enough, Catty dragged everyone onto the floor of her bedroom for a ‘tea session.’ The room felt loud and overwhelming, every inch of wallpaper hidden behind bright posters featuring a glamorous pink and yellow cat staring back from the walls. Every time Catty launched into sappy, wild gossip about her love life, Catti would drop a sharp, nasty remark from the corner of the room. Catty, completely unbothered, just beamed and showered her little sister with praises in return.

You watched your own hands hold a cold soda can, intensely conscious of how your fingers adjusted their grip against the condensation, as if observing someone else's body from a distance. Eventually, Catty turned the tables, pestering the rest of you about your own romantic pursuits. You felt your throat vibrate as you shrugged it off alongside Noelle, your large bat ears twitching at the noise. You’d never dated anyone, nor had you ever had a crush. Frankly, you doubted you were even capable of falling in love.

A sudden shiver ran down your spine, and you forced your hands to unclench, desperately trying to rub away the ghost of Kris’ fingers lingering around your waist.

“OMG, NOELLE!! You TOTALLY have the hots for someone, spill the TEA!!”

Noelle practically melted on the spot, a bright blush spreading across her nose and ears. You had your strong suspicions about who she was swooning over, even if she always dodged the topic. Beside you, you caught Catti tensing up, shifting uncomfortably on the rug.

“There’s no one to spill about!!” Noelle squealed, waving her hands frantically.

“C’mon, girl!! There’s obviously someone, you can’t lie to me”

The back and forth debate spiralled on, a chaotic spectacle of Catty pressing for gossip while Noelle flailed in absolute, flustered denial. You remained safely on the sidelines, glancing over at Catti. She sat completely still next to you, watching the two of them with an anxious, laser focused stare, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

You watched Catti’s tail flick against the carpet, a sharp, rhythmic motion that betrayed the quiet tension in her shoulders. Her dark eyes flicked over to you for a fraction of a second, a heavy, knowing look that made the fine fur on the back of your neck stand up. She didn't say a word, but the message was loud and clear: don't let Catty push this further. You adjusted your wings closer to your back, manual and calculated, as Noelle’s high pitched squeak echoed across the room.

From your vantage point on the floor, the sound of Catty’s laughter felt strangely muffled, like you were listening to the conversation underwater. You watched your own ears twitch to block out the noise, hyperaware of the slight vibration in your chest every time you took a slow, deliberate breath.

The pressure finally broke her.

"Susie!" Noelle blurted out, before instantly slapping both hands over her mouth in sheer horror.

Catty froze, her eyes widening in momentary shock before a wide, mischievous grin stretched across her face. She gave Noelle a playful wink. "Ohhh, so you're into bad girls!"

"No! I-that's not—| didn't mean—!" Noelle squeaked, spiralling into frantic, desperate denial.

Beside you, a sharp, metallic CRUNCH cut through her stuttering. Catti had completely flattened her soda can in one hand, her posture rigid as she stared intensely at Noelle.

“Susie…?” Catti said, her voice eerily calm, entirely unmatching the dark, murderous look in her eyes.

“Well— no! I mean— I don’t think she likes me! She bothers everyone except me—mostly around Kris!” Noelle panicked, flailing her hands.

Your gaze snapped directly to Noelle.

“OMG! It’s a love triangle!!” Catty gasped, leaning back as if struck by lightning. “This is literally just like episode seven of My Secret Romance! Susie is, like, secretly obsessed with Krissy!”

A twin CRUNCH echoed through the bedroom as both you and Noelle obliterated your drink cans in unison.

A wave of sudden, poisonous irritation washed over you. Why were you mad? You had no right to be upset. The idea should have been ridiculous. Kris could spend time with whomever they wanted. Kris could like whomever they wanted.

Then why did the thought of Susie make something ugly twist in your chest?

You blamed it on Susie’s violent streak. She shoved Kris into lockers, threatened people for fun, and carried herself like a walking disaster. Naturally, you disliked the idea. That was all it was. It had to be.

“W-why would Susie like Kris?” Noelle protested, her voice trembling. “She bullies them!”

“They are both drawn to the dark,” Catti said ominously. “Their souls align. Susie would only taint you.”

Your jaw tightened. Catti’s logical breakdown only made your jaw clench harder. Kris never gave Susie the time of day. At least, you didn’t think they did.

"Right? And maybe Krissy is into it!" Catty chirped, completely oblivious to the lethal tension in the room.

"Kris accepts the violence," Catti added quietly. "They don't fight it."

"We're mistaking bullying for romance here, isn't that completely messed up?" you interjected, your nails digging deep into the aluminium. "Staying silent while being tormented doesn't make someone a masochis-"

The word died in your throat. You choked on the rest of the sentence.

‘Don’t be shy.’

Kris’ voice surfaced in your mind with perfect clarity.

You remembered their flushed red face, their desperate, unyielding grip on your hips. Their heartbeat against your chest. Their insistence. The strange desperation in their voice when they had asked you to bite them.

The room seemed to tilt slightly.

Was Kris actually into that sort of thing? It felt sickening to consider, but it explained far too much.

Then another memory surfaced. Susie’s yellow fangs. The way she towered over Kris. The casual threats, the way she loved to loom over them, threatening to tear into their flesh with her teeth.

Something cold settled into the pit of your stomach, your face contorting into a scowl.

Did Kris actually have feelings for Susie?

The thought should have been absurd. What could they possibly want from a brute like her? Was it really her hostility? Instead of fading, the thought lodged itself somewhere deep inside you, where it immediately began to hurt.

Someone was saying your name, asking if you were alright.

You ignored them, snapping back to the bedroom as you suddenly became aware of the mess you were making. You hadn't stopped squeezing your drink; the crumpled metal had buckled completely under your fingers. Sweet liquid spilled out over your skin and trickled across your palm.

You stared. Yet as it spilled across your hand, you felt almost nothing.

The hand didn’t feel like yours. It looked like yours, moving when you wanted it to move, but the connection felt delayed somehow, like a tool you were barely controlling, instructions traveling through water before reaching the rest of your body.

Someone called your name again. You blinked, and the bedroom rushed back into focus.

You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to another word of the girls' chatter. The words slid past you without meaning. Everything in your head was drowned out by a single, agonising loop..Kris and Susie. Every repetition tightened the knot in your chest, sending a sharp pulse of pain straight through your temples.

To make matters worse, Catti spent the rest of the night subtly coaxing Noelle to give up on Susie and let Kris have her, stoking your irritation to a boiling point. You hated how much power the thought held over you. You hated that it hurt. You hated that you cared. But the worst part was the creeping doubt. What if Catti was right? Kris craved blood and brutality... things you could never naturally offer them. You grumbled under your breath, burying your face in your hands to hide the scowl.

The knot in your chest followed you straight into sleep. You couldn't escape the feeling even in sleep, if anything, your mind weaponised it.There were no visions of a dying Kris tonight, no overwhelming waves of regret. Instead, you dreamt of holding Kris completely at your mercy, edging them as your fangs punctured their skin, lapping up the sugary sweetness that welled from the mark. Every breath Kris hitched, every low moan they let slip drove you further under. Their leg shifted, their knee grinding up into your inner thigh in a slow, maddening friction that matched the feverish pace of your hands against their skin.

“Don’t think Susie will make you feel this good” you heard yourself whisper into the crook of their neck. It sounded less like a reassurance and more like a dark, venomous threat, a direct challenge daring them to try to prove you wrong. But Kris didn't argue. They just let out another helpless, broken moan in response, their head falling back against your shoulder.

You woke with a start, suffocating under a wave of sweat and pure shame. The humiliating, sticky reality in your pants made your cheeks burn in the dark. Desperate for comfort and privacy, you dragged your wings forward, burying yourself entirely behind them before anyone else in the room woke up.

Hideous, sticky shame burned through your entire body, making every nerve end prickle with embarrassment. Something was deeply, undeniably wrong with you. But amidst the chaos of your racing heart, one single directive began to drown out all the shame. It hummed in the back of your skull, relentless and desperate, pushing past every reasonable boundary you had left.

‘Make up with Kris.’

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Pacing the floor of your bedroom, you couldn't shake the restless energy. In class, you and Catti had sent death glares at Susie so fierce it left the school bully visibly unsettled. She had tried to bare her teeth, to threaten you both into submission, but backed off when neither you nor Catti so much as blinked.

The anger in your chest had only flared hotter when Susie casually asked where Kris was so she could steal their lunch money. You hated how easily Kris’ name rolled off her tongue, while you couldn't even utter it without getting strange looks. It infuriated you. Yet, underlying all that rage was a bizarre sense of detachment, as if you were just a viewer rooting for a character in a show, watching someone else’s frustration unfold rather than truly living it.

Despite the rage consuming you, you were paralysed. You were forced to watch yourself play the part.. smiling, nodding, pretending that everything was fine, pretending that you and Kris weren't actively avoiding each other. You were desperate for answers, for help, for anything to explain what was happening. You couldn't make sense of the sudden, violent urge to destroy Susie, or the frantic, suffocating need to find Kris and fix things. But how could you even fix this?

The dreams were only making it worse, morphing into something unholy that left you desperate for relief. Every time you woke up, your entire body physically ached for Kris, practically begging you to go see them. You were becoming convinced that if you could just make things right with them, the nightmares would finally stop.

You found yourself staring at the monitor after pacing around aggressively. Oh right... you could just look some things up. Sitting down, your fingers flicked on the PC, and you watched it boot up until you finally opened Google and typed in your first question.

From somewhere far away, you registered the weight of your hands resting on the desk. You watched your fingers hover over the keyboard, twitching once, twice, before they finally began to move without your permission.

why do humans like biting?|

The monitor cast a cold light across your face as you watched your reflection in the glass. The first page bloomed with science articles, dry explanations of cuteness aggression, psychology, and mastication.

No, That wasn't it.

You watched your index finger press down on the scroll wheel, dragging the page downward in jerky, mechanical steps. The bright text blurred into useless noise until a forum link flashed across the screen. Then another.

Your hand froze over the mouse, the scrolling stopping dead.

Your eyes scanned the screen without blinking. Hundreds of comments scrolled past like a blurred stream. People asking if it hurt, if it felt sexual, or if humans actually enjoyed the sight of blood, or if it was merely some suppressed instinct.

Finally, one comment flashed past that asked the exact question you had been desperate to see:

Static_Vulture: Why biting?

DreamyP3arl5: Honestly? I don’t really know. It’s just… intimate? Hard to explain. It’s like wanting to be physically close to someone in a way hugging isn’t

Intimate.

A cold, hollow sensation twisted in your stomach, but it felt miles away, like news from a distant country. You could almost feel Kris’ heart beat against yours and your fangs biting down their neck. Was that intimate?

You scrolled further as another comment caught your eyes.

FossilizedThought: Does the fascination only happen with someone you find attractive? Are they usually humans or monsters?

DreamyP3arl5: For me? I don’t know what my type exactly is but all the people I dated before had been monsters with sharp fangs lol. But yeah, the fascination only happens when I’m attracted to someone

You watched your hand freeze over the mouse. Heat flared beneath your fur, a sharp, embarrassing flush spreading across your face as the words settled in as you read another comment.

Anabortshenroot: how did ur partnerz feel about biting u til u bleed?

DreamyP3arl5: Alarmed at first but they caved in after a while cuz they want me satisfied lolll

Does Kris feel that way, too? The question burned into the back of your mind with blinding intensity. Did Kris get some sick, hidden satisfaction from the pain? From feeling your fangs break their skin until the blood ran? And.. if you kept refusing them, if you kept letting your own fear hold you back... would Kris eventually turn to someone else who wouldn't hesitate? Someone like Susie, who would tear into them without a second thought?

Your chest heaved in ragged breaths. The thought of anyone else touching Kris made your skin crawl. You refused to let Susie’s yellow teeth anywhere near the skin you had held. If Kris craved the pain, if they truly wanted to be marked and bled, then you would handle it yourself. As their careful, responsible classmate, you’d ensure it was done safely.

But first... you needed to figure out how to break through that unnatural barrier, the strange, stubborn resistance that had kept your fangs from piercing their skin in the first place.

You watched your hand drift toward the comment box before you could stop it. Your fingers hit the keys with faint, rhythmic clicks that sounded like someone else typing across the room.

‘I’m a fanged monster, and I’ve always felt this strange, invisible barrier whenever I try to actually break skin with my teeth. I’m trying to get past it... How did your partners manage to bypass that mental block?’

You watched your finger press Send, the glowing button flickering as your comment posted to the thread.

Now, all that was left to do was wait for the OP to respond. You leaned back, your large bat ears twitching at the faint humming of the laptop fan. The silence in the room felt thick and suffocating. You stared at the screen without blinking, hyperaware of how insane you looked, a herbivorous bat monster sitting in the dark, asking strangers how to bite open human skin.

吸草鬼: Honestly, as a water deer monster, what helped me break that mental block was practicing on my own forearm first. Biting down on your own skin helps you get used to the natural resistance without the fear of hurting anyone else. Pair that with practicing on firmer objects like apples or leather while picturing the person you want to bite, and it rewires your brain so you stop pulling back at the last second.

You leaned closer to the glowing screen, your large bat ears twitching in the dark. The fact that another herbivore had posted on this thread felt like a lifeline thrown into deep water. You watched your cursor highlight the text, hyperaware of how fast your heart was beating behind your ribs as you began to read their advice.

The advice burned into your mind with a strange, cold clarity. Biting your own arm. It was so simple, so painfully obvious, yet the thought alone made your stomach twist.

You stared down at your forearm resting on the dark desk, feeling like a distant spectator in your own body. Your fur look so soft, so delicate under the harsh blue light of the monitor. Slowly, as if your limbs belonged to someone else, a set of heavy, disconnected tools, you lifted your arm to your mouth. You parted your lips, feeling the sharp, cold points of your fangs rest against your skin.

You tried to bite down, but your jaw locked. That same invisible barrier slammed shut, an instinctual recoil screaming at you to stop. You squeezed your eyes shut, pictured Kris…their desperate grip, the heat of their neck…and forced your jaw to press a fraction harder. Pain flared, but the skin refused to yield, and your body pulled away before you could force it.

Over the next few days, the practice became a silent, obsessive blur. You felt severed from your own frame, going through the daily motions while your mind remained locked in a feverish loop.

Every moment you were alone, behind the closed door of your bedroom, in the quiet shade behind the school, or under the heavy cover of your blankets late at night, you practiced. You bit into thick, raw apples until your jaw ached, forcing yourself to ignore the natural urge to chew, training your muscles to drive your fangs straight through the firm skin without flinching.

When apples weren't enough, you went back to your own arm.

Day after day, you desensitised yourself to the resistance. You learned the exact threshold where pressure turned into give, feeling the way skin stretched before it wanted to snap. Every time that internal hesitation tried to pull you back, you summoned Kris’ face into your mind, their quiet intensity, their lingering glances, and the sickening fear that if you failed, Susie’s sharp, careless jaws would be the ones to mark them instead.

The physical toll quickly caught up with you. Your forearm was a patchwork of dull, aching bruises that made everyday tasks miserable. Playing video games with Berdly turned into an exercise in endurance. Every sharp twitch of the controller sent a throbbing ache up your arm, forcing you to fake a wrist cramp just to hide your grimaces.

In class, the discomfort followed you. You sat at your desk, trying to roll a pencil lazily back and forth over your knuckles, but your hands felt clumsy, numb, and slow. The pencil kept slipping, rolling off the wood and clattering onto the floor as you stared blankly at your bruised wrist.

Then, the classroom door creaked open, and Kris walked in.

It was one of their rare sightings… a quiet arrival that instantly shifted the atmosphere of the room. Normally, the panic and embarrassment would have driven you to make up a flimsy excuse, slide out of your seat, and hide in the hallway until the bell rang. But not today. You wanted to fix this. You needed to fix this.

So you stayed in your seat, your heart hammering a delayed, heavy rhythm against your ribs. You tried to keep your eyes glued to your desk, but the pull was too strong. When you finally allowed yourself a quick glance upward, you froze.

Kris was looking straight at you.

They weren't wearing their usual green and yellow sweater... not since the night you had left that mark on their neck. Instead, Kris wore a high, black turtleneck beneath their usual green and yellow striped shirt, completely concealing their collarbone and throat. You couldn't help but wonder if the dark, bruised hickey you had left behind was still sitting there against their skin, hidden safely beneath the tight fabric.

As your eyes traced higher, a sudden, heavy thud struck against your chest.

Drawn clumsily under their lower lash lines was a faint, slightly smudged streak of black eyeliner. It was uneven and sloppy, clearly applied with hesitant, unpracticed hands. A swell of sweet heat bloomed beneath your cheeks as the realisation hit.. Kris had sat in front of a mirror this morning, quietly trying to recreate the makeup you had done on them that day.

Yet beneath the makeup, Kris looked exhausted. Deep, faint shadows rested beneath their eyes, their slumped shoulders betraying how little sleep they’d gotten. Resting their chin lazily in their arm, Kris looked straight at you, their gaze carrying a quiet, patient softness mixed with an unmistakable flick of surprise.

Usually, the moment Kris walked into the room, you would panic, make up a flimsy excuse, and ditch class entirely to avoid them. But you were still here. You hadn't run away.

That realisation seemed to hang gently between you. The look in Kris’ eyes remained deep, lingering, and unmistakably tender, an unspoken, gentle acknowledgment of everything shared between you, as if, despite their tiredness, they were just patiently waiting for you to finally come back to them… that’s how you interpret it at least. Their dark bangs shadowed their face, but their eyes stayed locked onto yours with a quiet, unblinking focus.

You expected to feel shame overcome you the moment you laid eyes on Kris, not just the embarrassment of having avoided them for so long, though that was still there, but the deeper shame of dreaming about them so indecently. But none of it hit you. Looking at Kris, everything else washed away, leaving you entirely lost in their eyes.

The world around you melted away. The noisy classroom, the teacher’s rambling voice, the rhythmic ticking of the clock, all of it faded into a soft haze, a dull underwater roar as you sank entirely into the heavy trance of Kris's gaze. The quiet detachment wrapped around you like a thick, insulating fog, holding you captive in the still, breathless standoff.

Clack.

A sudden, rough shove from Susie sent Kris stumbling forward into their desk, shattering the silence with a harsh, metallic rattle.

"Welcome back, loser," Susie grunted, slumping into her own chair without a second thought.

The sharp interruption violently snapped the invisible thread stretched between you and Kris.

You watched Susie, watched the effortless, careless ease with which she touched Kris, the casually cruel intimacy of it. A tight, unpleasant knot twisted sharply in your chest, hot and bitter, though you couldn't put a name to the irritation burning beneath your ribs. It just felt wrong. Wrong that Susie could shove them, tease them, and invade their space so thoughtlessly, completely oblivious to the weight of what Kris actually was. Susie didn't know the price. She didn't know what Kris tasted like, what they required, or the terrible things you were willing to swallow just to make up with them. She just occupied their space like she owned it.

You pushed the strange heat out of your chest, forcing yourself to go numb and distant. You shoved the irritation deep down, shutting it out completely.

Your breath hitched, the background noise of the room rushing back into your ears. You tore your eyes away, your heart racing. You had a mission. You couldn't afford to get lost in your head. You had to be ready.

That night, alone in the suffocating darkness of your bedroom, you reached the breaking point.

You sat on the edge of your bed, watching your hand bring your wrist up to your mouth as if manipulating a marionette. You closed your eyes, summoned the memory of Kris’ solid stare from earlier that afternoon and Susie’s annoying sharp teeth, this alone made you stop overthinking. You stopped letting your body fight you.

You bit down hard, driving your fangs straight into your own flesh with everything you had.

There was a tiny, distinct pop beneath your teeth…a sudden release of tension as the sharp tip of your fang pierced through the upper layer of skin.

Instantly, warmth spilled across your tongue.

The shock hit you like ice water.

In your dreams, you had romanticised it. You had imagined blood would be light and sweet, something delicate and otherworldly, like juice freshly pressed from a ripe fruit.

The reality was nauseating. It was warm and strangely heavy, carrying an overpowering metallic tang that spread across your mouth and clung to the roof of your tongue. Beneath the taste of copper was something saltier, thicker, and unmistakably the taste of the living.

Yet, even as your stomach lurched, you didn't stop.

You kept your lips pressed tight to your flesh, sucking harder, forcing yourself to swallow the hot, heavy fluid again and again. Every gruelling gulp was for Kris. You forced down the sickening thickness, repeating their name in your head like a chant, trying to drown out the revulsion with the sheer weight of what they meant to you. You needed this. You had to do this for them.

Then your body revolted.

Your eyes flew open in horror. You violently jerked your wrist away, sucking in a sharp breath as a fierce wave of nausea swept through you. Your heart hammered wildly against your ribs. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you scrambled out of bed, your wings catching awkwardly against the doorframe as you bolted down the hallway and threw yourself into the bathroom.

You dropped to your knees in front of the toilet, barely reaching the bowl before the gagging started.

Your body convulsed as you retched, your throat burning as that awful, coppery taste lingered stubbornly at the back of your mouth. Tears blurred your vision, and your ears rang with the force of your stomach heaving.

By the time the retching finally subsided, you were collapsed on the cold bathroom tiles, trembling violently as you wiped your mouth with the back of your uninjured hand.

The barrier was gone.

The fantasy had died the moment it touched your tongue, leaving behind only the terrible, stomach turning reality of what you were about to do to Kris.

Was that really what they were into?

It had felt disgusting forcing your own blood down your throat, and the raw, throbbing pain in your arm was only making the headache behind your eyes worse. Your whole body ached. You didn't want to put Kris through this kind of pain, did they actually enjoy this? Would you even be able to give them what they desired?

You were relieved about one thing, though. You hated the taste of blood. It wasn’t like your dreams where you couldn’t control yourself. That meant you weren't a killer. You were never going to hurt Kris, let alone kill them.

That was why it had to be you instead of Susie. Susie was cruel..if it were up to her, she would definitely end up killing Kris. But you wouldn't.

The practice became a daily ritual, a quiet nightmare you forced yourself to endure.

Every night, you bit into your wrist, drawing fresh blood and forcing yourself to swallow. You sucked at the wound until your jaw ached, swallowing down the hot, coppery heavy fluid while keeping Kris’ face locked in your mind.

It was destroying you.

The metallic taste never truly left your tongue. No matter how aggressively you scrubbed your teeth or scraped your tongue in the morning, the phantom taste of rust clung to the back of your throat. Fruits were out of the question, the sweet juice only reacted violently with the lingering metallic tang, instantly triggering your gag reflex. Eventually, you just stopped eating altogether.

People were starting to notice.

Noelle gave you anxious, lingering looks in the hallway, her fingers nervously twitching against her skirt. Catti stared at you from her desk, her dark eyes tracking your dull fur and sunken features with quiet, uneasy suspicion. But Jockington was the most vocal.

"Dude. No offence to, ghosts but. you look like one," Jockington said one afternoon, leaning over your desk, his usual cheerful energy toned down into genuine concern. "Are you. sick or, something? did you. eat today?"

"I'm fine," you said flatly, not bothering to look up.

"You're totally, not fine," he pressed.

You didn't answer. You just stared at the blank wall, keeping your mouth shut so he wouldn't smell the copper on your breath. You tried brushing your teeth aggressively this morning but you still tasted the blood in your mouth.

Later that week, a desperate thought struck you. Blood was just meat, right? Raw, animal instinct. Maybe if you trained your stomach to handle heavy meat, forcing down blood would stop triggering the violent puking.

"Hey," you muttered to Jockington as class ended. "Can you... grab me something from the QC Diner later?"

Jockington’s eyes lit up, thrilled that you were actually asking for food. "Say, no more. dude! I got you, covered!"

When he gave you the warm, greasy paper bag outside the school, you peeked inside and saw a thick, heavy burger wrapped in foil. The smell of grilled beef hit your nose, instantly twisting your stomach into a knot. You were fighting the urge to throw up right here and now.

You quickly put on an annoyed face, dramatising your reaction so he wouldn't suspect a thing.

"Oh no, why would you give me meat again?" you complained, huffing out a loud, frustrated sigh. "Did you seriously forget that I'm a fruit bat?!"

Jockington roared back in laughter, slapping his tail to his forehead as he inhaled to ask his famous questions “then, what are. The fangs for?”

"Unbelievable," you grumbled, pretending to be deeply offended while clutching the bag tightly to your chest. "I'm so mad at you. I'm taking this home."

"Wait. you don't, have to eat it if you don't, want to—"

"I'm going home," you interrupted, walking off before he could try to take it back.

When you got home, you locked yourself in your room and took a bite.

The cooked meat hit your stomach like a lead weight. It lacked the fresh, copper warmth of the blood you'd been forcing down, but your throat immediately rejected the texture anyway. Your stomach convulsed violently.

You sprinted to the bathroom, dropping to your knees and gagging hard as the burger came right back up, splashing into the bowl.

"What is all that racket in there?!" a harsh voice shouted from downstairs.

You froze on the cold tiles, wiping your mouth with a shaking hand, panic spiking through the nausea. "I'm—I'm sorry!" you called back, your voice raspy and raw. “Are you throwing up again?” A different harsher voice shouted from downstairs

A scoff echoed through the thin walls, heavy with irritation. "You've been doing that constantly lately. What, are you trying to seek attention now? Stop overreacting and clean it up!"

You stared down at the porcelain, the sharp words stinging far deeper than the burning in your throat.

Right, you thought to yourself, forcing your breathing to slow down. They're right. I'm just overreacting. It's all in my head. I need to stop.

You flushed the toilet, stood up, and wiped your mouth. You walked back to your bed, bit through your arm again. When the hot, heavy fluid spilled onto your tongue and your throat began to heave in protest, you clamped your jaws shut tight. You swallowed hard, fighting your own anatomy, and forced the puke back down.

It continued like this until your body stopped fighting back. You stopped throwing up immediately after sucking too much blood. You didn’t know how many days had blurred together or how many weeks had passed, but you were finally ready.

You also discovered that Jockington wasn't nearly as oblivious as he acted. He was a huge liar, pretending all those times to "forget" you were a fruit bat, because ever since that day he gave you the burger, he now religiously brought you fruit every single day.

You appreciated the gesture, but you had completely lost your appetite. You never felt hungry anymore. Worse, every time you bit into a piece of fruit, your mind played cruel tricks on you, warping the juicy sweetness until it tasted just like warm, metallic blood. It was disgusting.

Still, every time he handed you something, you would force yourself to take a small nibble just to thank him. He was a good friend.

Noelle and Catti tried to reach you in the only ways they knew how, their worry quiet but persistent.

Noelle’s concern always came wrapped in anxious, trembling polite energy. She would timidly slide past your desk before homeroom, leaving small, neatly folded sticky notes or quiet suggestions. "I notice you haven't been touching your lunch," she’d whisper, her fingers nervously picking at the hem of her cardigan. "If... if you ever want to rest in the nurse's office, I can lend you my notes. Or if things are heavy at home, you can always stay at my house for a bit." She mistook your exhaustion for stress, offering gentle, practical ways to escape a pressure she couldn't quite see.

Catti, on the other hand, didn't bother beating around the bush. She’d lean against the wall outside class, her dark eyes tracking your hollow face as she flicked through her phone. Without making direct eye contact, she’d toss out blunt, cryptic warnings. "You look like shit," she muttered once, her voice low and flat. "Whatever dark ritual you think you're pulling, it’s eating you alive from the inside out. Cut it out before there’s nothing left of you to save."

Their advice sat on your desk like unopened mail. They were both trying to pull you back to reality, completely unaware that you had already crossed a line you couldn't walk back from.

So you just went through the motions. Which was how you ended up sitting in a booth at QC's Diner with the rest of them.

It had been a while since all of you were here together in one place. You, Noelle, Catti, and Jockington. Everyone was talking, their voices overlapping in a desperate attempt to force the atmosphere into something normal. But it wasn't normal. It didn't feel normal in the slightest. And you knew, with a heavy, sinking certainty, that they knew it too.

The heavy scent of greasy fries, grilled meat, and warm syrup hung thick in the air. It hit your nose in suffocating waves, instantly twisting your empty stomach into a knot. You had to keep your jaw clenched tight, fighting down the sudden wave of nausea that threatened to climb up your throat every time someone at a nearby table cut into their meat.

More than that, you felt completely severed from reality. Sitting in the booth felt like watching a movie of yourself through a thick, smudged sheet of glass. Your hands resting on the laminated tabletop looked foreign, like limbs belonging to someone else entirely. Their voices sounded muffled, distant, floating toward you through deep water.

They were treading carefully around you, practically vibrating with the urge to address just how badly you’d been doing lately. You could see it in the way Noelle kept glancing at you, the way Catti’s dark eyes tracked every sluggish, monotone movement of your head.

Finally, the silence you were holding became heavier than the truth. So, you talked.

You didn't explain everything..you couldn't. You didn't dare mention the bloody cling on your tongue, the desperate, ritualistic biting, or the inappropriate nightmares that left you soaked in disgrace. But you tried to explain that night.

"Something happened between me and Kris that night," you muttered, your voice raspy and dry. You lied effortlessly, keeping your eyes glued to the salt shaker. "It wasn't... it wasn't something big. I can't really explain it properly, but it just left us both with this really awkward feeling. That’s why we’ve been avoiding each other." You let out a slow, trembling breath, your bat ears drooping slightly. "The guilt has just been consuming me. That's why I want to fix things between me and them."

A collective wave of relief washed over the booth. They didn't ask for details, they were just visibly happy to finally hear you speak, to see a crack in the wall you’d built around yourself.

"No, worries. dude!" Jockington said, his cheerful voice instantly breaking the tension. "That's, totally fixable! Here. hand me your phone."

You blinked slowly from behind your fogged perception, your hand instinctively dropping to cover the outline of your phone tucked deep inside your pocket. "No."

"Aw, c'mon! Hand it over!"

"I said no, Jockington—"

Before you could pull away, a sudden ruckus broke out at the table. Catti lunged forward, her paws grabbing your wrists with sudden, forceful impact.

Pain exploded up your arm. Catti’s grip had slammed directly against the raw, heavily bruised patches of skin on your forearm..the exact spot where you had been driving your own fangs night after night. A sharp, a throb shot straight up to your shoulder, making your teeth snap shut to swallow a sudden gasp.

Normally, you might have fought back, but you were just so thoroughly exhausted, floating miles away from your own fur. You didn't have the energy to put up a real fight, make a scene, or scream from the throbbing pain, which was probably the only reason QC hadn't yelled at your table from across the counter yet. You just slumped forward in Catti's tight grip, uselessly wriggling your fingers as your arm throbbed violently.

While Catti pinned your aching arms, Noelle quickly leaned over, slipping her hand into your pocket and pulling out your phone before holding the screen up for Jockington.

With impressive precision for a snake with no arms, Jockington leaned down and tapped out your passcode with his tail, instantly unlocking the device.

Your eyes widened in complete disbelief, the pain in your arm momentarily cutting through your numbing body. "How the hell do you know my lock screen code?!" you hissed, struggling weakly against Catti’s crushing hold.

Jockington gave a smooth, smug little sway. "Ask no questions. you don't, want answers to. my friend."

He leaned in closer to the glowing screen. Then, to your absolute horror, he flicked his long, lashing tongue out, repeatedly tapping at the glass display to navigate your messages.

"Ew! What the hell, Jockington?!" you gagged, turning your face away in sheer disgust as the smell of the diner and the sight of his tongue combined into a fresh wave of sick nausea. "That is disgusting!"

"And... done!" Jockington announced proudly, pulling back with a triumphant grin. "Sent!"

You froze, the fog temporarily washed away by a sudden spike of sheer panic. "What? What did you text?!"

"I just told Kris that you want to meet up at Noelle's house one of these days to talk!" Jockington beamed.

Your heart gave a violent, sickening thud against your ribs, sending another throb of heat to your bruised arm. You stared at him in complete, horrified disbelief, your breath catching tightly in your raw throat.

"Wait—why my house?!" Noelle squeaked, her free hand flying to her red cheek as her eyes widened in complete surprise. She looked frantically between Jockington and your unlocked phone, her antlers practically trembling with sudden nervous energy. "Jockington, my place?! What if my mom is home? What if Kris thinks it's weird?!"

"Relax. Dude!" Jockington chimed in smoothly, giving another dramatic, satisfied sway of his tail. "Think about it! Kris has been to your, house a million times growing up It’s, familiar. it’s Safe! Plus. if we tell them that everyone is, gonna Be there hanging out. it takes off all the heavy one,on,one pressure. They’ll, actually come!"

"They're not going to show up," you muttered weakly, your chin sinking toward your chest as Catti finally loosened her grip on your throbbing arm. The dull, painful ache in your forearm settled into a steady hum, matching the heavy fog creeping back over your brain. "They've been avoiding me for weeks... why would a group hang at Noelle's change anything?"

“Only time can tell.” Catti spoke up, her low, flat voice cutting cleanly through your doubt. She pulled her hands back, her dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made the fine fur on your ears prickle. She took the phone from Noelle’s hand, reaching into the pocket of her waitress uniform. She pulled out a small spray bottle of sanitiser and a microfiber cloth, meticulously scrubbing the screen clean of any leftover snake spit before handing it back to you.

You took the phone with trembling, numb fingers, your cheeks burning hot as you opened the chat.

You looked at the message Jockington sent with immense embarrassment. You really hope Kris doesn’t think you’re bad at spelling.

Despite the sheer horror of Jockington’s atrocious typing, a strange, dizzying warmth bloomed behind your ribs as you stared at the top of the screen.

Keis.

There was almost their name, saved in your contact list at long last. A direct line. An indirect bridge stretched across the wide, painful void that had grown between you over these weird weeks. You could reach them now. Anytime. Anywhere.

It made you feel weirdly, embarrassingly giddy. The sensation felt foreign...but it was there. It had to be real. After all, the heavy stench of greasy fries and fried meat hanging in the diner air didn't make your throat seize up anymore. The nausea had completely vanished, melted away into the background and replaced by a small, involuntary smile at the corner of your lips.

You stared at the glowing screen, your fingers tracing the edge of the glass where Catti’s sanitiser was still drying.

Maybe Jockington was right. Maybe you were both just too stubborn, too trapped in your own heads to not talk about what happened. Maybe this ridiculous, chaotic push from your friends was the exact thing you both needed to finally face each other.

Kris still hadn’t responded, but that was okay. You didn’t expect them to reply immediately. Still, you couldn’t stop checking your notifications for the rest of the day.

The days continued to slip past without a single new notification from them. You wouldn’t have even known how much time had passed if it weren’t for the timestamp on the message Jockington had sent, which now read 5 days ago.

You paced the floor, your large bat ears twitching at every tiny sound outside. Your phone was clamped tightly in your hand, its cold screen glowing with the unanswered text. Driven by a desperate loop of thoughts, you sat at your desk and scrolled through forum after forum, reading threads on human behavior, lingering guilt, and sudden avoidance.

What does it mean when someone ignores your text? Are they angry? Are they disgusted?

Every thread you clicked on felt useless, but your mind kept drifting back to the same place: Susie.

Was Kris ignoring you because they were with her instead? Were they spending their afternoons together while you sat alone in the dark, driving your fangs into your own flesh?

No, they wouldn’t do that.. but how else would you explain their lack of communication. The thought twisted like a serrated knife in your chest, sharp pain that made it hard to draw a full breath.

Kris’ turtleneck flashed through your mind. Several weeks had passed, yet they were still keeping their neck completely covered. A dark thought took root. Could Kris have convinced Susie to do it instead? Was that why Kris looked so drained lately? Was that why Susie had looked so smug when she saw them in class?

Susie!?

The name tasted far worse than the lingering copper on your tongue. Susie, with her sharp teeth, her reckless hands, her complete disregard for the rules. Susie didn't have to practice until her throat bled. She didn't have to fight her own stomach, forcing puke down your throat just to prove she was strong yet gentle enough for Kris. She was a monster by nature. If Kris had asked her... if Kris had begged her... she wouldn't have hesitated. She would have ripped into them without a second thought.

And Kris..tired, silent Kris..would have let her…

You watched as your head dropped hard on your wooden desk in frustration. You felt your hands grip tightened against the edge of the wooden desk.

You practiced slow breaths to calm yourself. You needed air. You needed to step away from the glowing screen and the walls that felt like they were closing in on you. Maybe a stroll around town would clear the heavy fog from your head.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Your legs carried you down the familiar, quiet streets on autopilot. You found yourself heading toward the edge of town, your heart thumping against your ribs with every step as you hesitated, fighting the urge to wander toward Kris’ house. You couldn't just knock on their door. You weren't brave enough for that.

Instead, your aimless footsteps drew you toward the warm, fragrant glass of Asgore’s flower shop.

You paused near the entrance, taking a quiet breath of the floral air, when your eyes caught a motion inside. Kris was leaving their father’s shop.

Your breath caught sharply in your throat, your entire body freezing on the spot. In their hands, Kris held a soft, freshly arranged bundle of vibrant flowers.

At the sound of your sudden pause, Kris turned. Their dark, unblinking eyes met yours, and for a long, breathless moment, the entire world melted away. Both of you were unmoving. Your gaze dropped instantly to the blossoms cradled in their arms, a cold wave of insecurity washing over you.

Who are those for? The thought hit you with terrifying speed. Please... please don't let them be for Susie.

Silence stretched between you, thick, golden, and suffocatingly heavy. The quiet in the shop felt vast, filled only with the faint rustle of leaves and the rapid, uneven rhythm of your own heart.

Kris finally broke the ice, their voice low, quiet, and rough from disuse. "..Hey."

"Hey," you breathed back softly.

A sudden, bittersweet echo touched your mind. It was almost identical to the very first time you two had ever spoken, the same quiet, hesitant greeting, carrying a world of unspoken curiosity.

Desperate to break the unbearable tension, you gestured weakly toward their hands. "Pretty flowers..." Kris looked down at the bundle, then gave a slight, noncommittal shrug. It gave away nothing. It didn't tell you who they were for, leaving the anxious knot in your stomach to tighten just a little more.

Suddenly, you became hyperaware of your own existence. You fidgeted with your fingers, your hands feeling clumsy and useless, before tucking your wings tighter against your back. You noticed the way Kris was dressed. A high, dark turtleneck fitted snugly beneath their usual green and yellow striped shirt, covering every inch of their throat. You felt an uneasy feeling in your chest. They weren't wearing any makeup today. No smudged eyeliner, no faint dark lines. Just their raw, natural face.

And yet, standing there bathed in the soft, golden afternoon light filtering through the shop windows, you thought they looked devastatingly beautiful.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths. You felt exposed under their gaze, intensely conscious of how you were standing, how your wings twitched, how terribly you wanted to step closer.

Kris shifted slightly, their dark brown fringe casting a soft shadow over their eyes as they spoke again. "..Haven’t seen you around much."

"Um—yeah," you stammered, your voice rising in a nervous rush. "Sorry about that... that’s—that’s actually why I texted you—"

"Yeah. I saw," Kris interrupted softly, their voice carrying a quiet tenderness that made your knees feel weak. "Didn’t know what to say." Quiet settled over the shop once more. They just stood there, staring at you with a patient, unreadable intensity as you visibly struggled to find your words.

"I... I wanted to..." You swallowed hard, your throat feeling dry and tight. "Hang out again?"

The ghost of a smirk touched the corner of Kris’ lips, their eyes locking onto yours with a gentle, teasing spark. "Is that a question, or...?"

Heat rushed straight to your face, a bright, helpless blush blooming beneath your fur. "Are you going to stall, or...?" you shot back, a faint attempt to defend your pride.

Seeing your flustered reaction, Kris allowed a small, genuine smile to curve their lips. Up close, you could see how exhausted they looked. Deep, faint shadows rested beneath their lower lashes, their posture slumped with a bone deep tiredness that mirrored your own.

"Plus... I really wanted to talk," you admitted, your voice dropping into something softer, more intimate. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and—" The words died in your throat.

Your eyes locked onto the high collar of their dark turtleneck. Right at the curve of their neck, the black fabric was slightly stiffened, stained a shade darker than the rest of the material. A faint, coppery scent cut right through the fragrant flowers in Kris' arms. A heavy, metallic tang you’d spent weeks forcing down your own throat.

Your chest rose and fell in short, ragged breaths, your jaw locking tight as your mind instantly jumped to Susie’s yellow teeth.

BRRRRING.

The sudden, loud chime of a ringtone broke the delicate and tense bubble surrounding you both. Kris flinched slightly, pulling their phone from their pocket. They glanced at the screen, looking back up at you with a quiet, apologetic mumble. "Sorry..."

The noise in your head exploded into a deafening roar. A dam broke inside you, sweeping away whatever fragile control had been holding your mind together. The ground beneath your feet felt completely gone. You weren't steering anymore, not like usual... you were just a captive audience inside your own skull, watching your limbs move on an automated, frantic impulse.

You watched Kris walk past you with the flowers clenched in one hand and their other hand had their phone close to their ear. You felt your legs take a step towards them slowly.

Keeping a careful distance, you trailed behind Kris as they walked down the sidewalk. Your footsteps made no sound against the pavement, your large ears tracking the rhythmic sweep of their sweater, the faint rustle of the paper wrapping around the flowers. Every time Kris paused, you melted into the tree line or behind a fence, your eyes glued to the dark stain hidden beneath their collar.

Bats were creatures of the dark. Built for silence. Built to glide through shadows without causing a single breeze to stir.

When Kris finally reached home and stepped inside, you circled around to the side of the house, staying low in the grass.

Your mind churned with erratic, disjointed commentary as you scanned the windows.

Living room... Toriel is in there, reading on the couch. Nope. Bathroom... light's off, but too risky, can't go in there, aha! Their room.

You caught the dark curtains of Kris’ bedroom window on the second floor. Crouching low, you spread your wings and launched upward in one swift, soundless push, catching the narrow wooden ledge with your hands.

The window was cracked open just an inch to let the cool breeze in. Your fingers, numb and detached, worked the latch free from the outside. You slid the glass up just enough to slip through, landing on the floorboards with nothing more than a faint thud.

Your eyes flicked toward the window frame, catching a thin streak of sunlight cutting across the glass. Right outside, resting on the sloping roof directly below Kris’ window, were worn, faded smudges imprinted on the wooden shingles.

Shoe marks.

A quiet, bitter knot twisted in your gut as you stared at the outlines. You just hoped they were Kris’ and not Susie’s. The thought of her standing out there, stepping into a space that was supposed to be quiet, leaving her mark like she owned the place, made your blood run cold. She didn't deserve to be that close to them. Not after everything you had gone through just to prepare yourself.

You pulled your wings tight around yourself, sinking into the dark space between the desk and the wall, completely hidden from the door. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, your chin resting on your arms as your fangs pressed against the inside of your lower lip.

And then, you waited.

The room was dim, smelling faintly of old carpets, dust, and Kris. You sat motionless as the thin streak of sunlight outside slowly faded, stretching long shadows across the floor before bleeding into the heavy gray gloom of dusk. You watched the last bit of light drain from the window, waiting through the endless quiet as full darkness settled over the room, listening intently for the doorknob to turn.

The brass doorknob finally clicked, the slow turn echoing like a crack of thunder in the quiet room.

You shifted your weight onto the balls of your feet, your wings tensing behind you like coiled springs. Your mind was completely blank, stripped of thought, leaving only the cold, mechanical urge to act.

You watched Kris step through the doorway. The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off the faint light from the hallway and plunging the room back into shadow. They took two slow steps past the desk, their posture unusually rigid. Their shoulders squared, their head tilting a fraction of an inch to the side, a subtle, frozen pause, as if the air in the room felt suddenly too heavy, signaling an intruder.

You didn't wait for them to turn around.

In one fluid, silent burst, you launched yourself from the shadows. You slammed into Kris from behind, your momentum forcing them forward as your left arm locked around their torso, pinning their arms to their sides. Your right hand slapped flat over their mouth, smothering the sudden gasp before it could cross their lips.

Before you could settle your grip, a cold, rigid point dug sharply through your shirt, pressing directly against the center of your stomach.

Your eyes flicked down. Kris had already drawn a knife, their hand snaking backward around their hip, driving the tip of the blade hard enough against your belly to make the fabric give way. One quick shove, and it would slide right through you.

You didn't flinch. You didn't care.

Leaning down until your lips brushed the shell of their ear, you let out a low, raspy whisper. "Don't scream."

Kris shifted against your chest, their breath hot and rapid against your palm, but they didn't pull the blade back.

The metallic tang hanging on the air grew thick, overpowering the dust in the room as your nose grazed the dark fabric of their turtleneck. The blood on their skin was so close you could taste it on the back of your throat.

"I just wanted to see who did that to your neck," you whispered softly, your grip tightening around their chest until you felt the erratic thud of their heart against your ribs. "And finish my job from that night."

With a sharp, deliberate movement, you tilted their head to the side, exposing the curve of their throat. You leaned in and bit down hard. Your fangs drove straight through the thick, dark fabric of the turtleneck, puncturing skin with a clean, unmistakable break. Hot, heavy fluid burst across your tongue, spilling into your mouth in a sudden, sweet wave.

Kris let out a muffled moan that vibrated violently against the palm of your hand. Their body went momentarily rigid before slackening in your hold, and the knife slipped from their trembling fingers, clattering loudly against the wooden floorboards.

The metallic heat burst across your tongue, and your stomach instantly churned in revolt.

It was thick, heavy, and bitter with the sharp tang of copper…nothing like the sweet, airy nectar your feverish dreams had lied to you about. Every natural instinct in your body screamed at you to pull back, to gag, to spit the coppery fluid onto the floorboards.

Yet, you kept your jaws locked tight. Because beneath your palm, Kris’ breathing hitched into another low, broken moan, the vibration humming through your fur and straight up your arm. The sheer sound of it drowned out the nausea. The taste was revolting, suffocating, and vile, but to hear Kris unravel like that…completely helpless under your touch, melting against your chest as you held them fast, made every drop worth swallowing.

You pressed harder, your lips sealing over the small puncture marks as you sucked, forcing down the hot fluid while your pulse hammered in your ears.

For a few fleeting seconds, Kris remained limp in your hold, their head resting heavily against your shoulder. But as the suction dragged on, their body suddenly went taut. Their fingers clawed weakly at your wrist, a sharp, genuine gasp escaping through the cracks of your fingers as the thrill turned into raw, aching pain.

The shift in their posture snapped through your haze.

You broke the seal immediately, pulling your fangs back from the fabric of their collar. A thin thread of red dragged across their dark turtleneck as you loosened your grip on their mouth, panting softly against the side of their neck, leaving them trembling and breathless in the dark.

You pulled your face back, your lower jaw trembling.

Blood dripped warm from the corners of your mouth, trickling down your chin to stain your collar. The disgusting, metal heat sitting on the back of your throat triggered a violent, sudden spasm in your stomach. A wave of bitter bile rushed straight up your throat, threatening to spill over right then and there.

You clamped your teeth together, forcing your throat to swallow the sick back down. Your eyes burned with tears as you fought down the retching reflex, the awful, metallic taste lingering on your tongue as you wiped your mouth with the back of a shaking hand.

Kris slowly turned around.

They slid down against the edge of the bed until they were sitting on the floor, their knees drawn slightly up. Their face was flushed a deep, feverish red, their chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. Slowly, with uncharacteristic hesitation, their fingers reached up to press gently against the fresh, damp bite marks on their neck, tracing the tear in the black turtleneck.

They didn't reach for the knife on the floor. They just sat in the dim shadows, their dark, unblinking eyes locked onto yours, completely breathless.

The bile surged again, burning the back of your throat. Your hands clutched at your stomach as you dropped to your knees, your shoulders shaking violently while you fought a suffocating, metallic urge to throw up.

Kris noticed immediately. The lingering haze in their dark eyes cleared, replaced by a soft, hyper focused quiet. Dropping their hand from their neck, they shifted across the floorboards toward you, their movements smooth and deliberate. "This is why I avoided you," Kris whispered, their voice barely a breath cutting through the stillness of the dim room.

They reached out, their fingers cool and steady against your flushed, burning fur as they gently lifted your chin. Reaching for a box of tissues resting beside the bed, Kris pulled a few sheets free and pressed them lightly against your dripping lower lip, dabbing away the thick, dark smudges with painstaking care. "You shouldn't have done this," they murmured softly, their gaze fixed on every shiver wracking your frame. "I'm sorry..."

You forced one last, hard swallow, feeling the bitter heat recede down your esophagus until your stomach finally settled back into place. Letting out a shaky breath, you leaned your weight into Kris’ palm as they meticulously wiped the stray droplets from your chin and mouth. Their touch was painful in its tenderness. The small, quiet room felt suffocatingly warm, filled only with the scent of dust, flowers, and the coppery tang on your lips.

Your eyes drifted down to the frayed, damp tear in the neck of their dark sweater. Now was your chance to check for the other bite mark. "Wait..." you muttered, your voice raspy and raw. "Do you have anything to clean the bite mark?" It was a made up excuse to look at their neck, but part of you genuinely wanted to clean up the wound you had left them.

Kris paused, looking down at their collar before giving a faint, quiet nod. Reaching into the bottom drawer of their nightstand, they pulled out a small glass bottle of antiseptic and a clean white cloth. Then, without saying a word, Kris gathered the hem of their turtleneck and pulled it over their head, leaving only their dark upper undergarments exposed.

Heat rushed straight to your face, painting your face red beneath your fur. Your stomach fluttered violently, a chaotic, dizzying swarm of distant fireworks you couldn’t identify before they disappeared. Kris handed you the bottle. Sitting this close in the shadows, you became hyperaware of every single muscle, every slight movement. You felt clumsy as your trembling fingers unstoppered the bottle, the sharp smell of alcohol cutting through the air.

You saturated a corner of the cloth and carefully leaned in to tend to the fresh puncture marks on their skin. But as you brought the rag closer, your gaze caught on another mark resting just below their collarbone. A faded, irregular patch of bruised, broken skin that didn't look like teeth at all.

"What's this?" you asked softly, freezing your hand mid air. Surprised that you didn’t catch another monster’s fang mark. A wave of relief took over your body as you let out a happy huff, knowing that Susie hasn’t touched Kris.

Kris went entirely still. A deep, pink tinge crept up from their neck, spreading rapidly across their neck and cheeks. You watched, spellbound by every tiny physical detail. The quiet, deliberate way their throat swallowed, the subtle tension in their neck muscles, the nervous twist of their arm, and the way their eyes darted downward. Your gaze lingered, drawn helplessly to the natural tint of their parted lips.

"I've been... trying to keep the hickey in place," Kris admitted, their voice dropping into a small, hesitant whisper.

The confession hit you like a sudden physical impact, making your entire body freeze as the words hung in the quiet, dim room.

A heavy, prickling heat flooded straight to your face, rushing up from your collarbone to the tips of your large ears. Your ears twitched violently in response, hot to the touch and flushing a deep, furious pink that flared bright beneath your fur. You couldn't stop it. the sheer absurdity and intimacy of what Kris had just said blew past every paranoid thought about Susie, and left you completely disarmed.

Your jaw went slightly slack, your breath catching dead in your throat. They wanted it there. They hadn't tried to wash it away or hide it out of shame…they had deliberately preserved it.

Your lower lip trembled as your fangs caught against it again, but this time not out of anger. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a fast, erratic rhythm that echoed loudly in your sensitive ears. Every inch of your skin felt hyper sensitive, radiating a sweltering heat that contrasted sharply with the chilly air of the room. You fumbled for something to say “S-so.. it wasn’t someone else’s doing?” You fidgeted with the rag you held in your hand.

Kris looked back up at you, their brow furrowing in genuine, quiet confusion. "Who...?"

"Never mind," you blurted out quickly, your face burning as you ducked your head, hurriedly returning your focus to the task at hand.

Silence settled over the room once more, heavy, sweet, and intimate. You worked with extreme care, using the wet cloth to clean away the faint streaks of dried blood surrounding the wound. Each time the alcohol stung their skin, you felt a tiny twitch in their shoulder, but they didn't pull away. Satisfaction settled deep in your chest as you finished, smoothing down a small piece of gauze over their collarbone to keep the tear clean.

"Sorry about today," you said quietly, pulling your hands back to rest on your knees. You couldn't bring yourself to look them in the eye. "I... I don't know what came over me."

"It wasn't just you," Kris said softly, cutting you off before you could spiral further. Their red eyes shifted away, staring out toward the window. "I shouldn't have ignored your text." They went quiet for a moment, the room settling back into a stillness that felt a little less heavy this time. "Besides..." Kris added, their voice dropping almost to a whisper. "I didn't hate it."

The heat flared right back up to your face, turning your ears burning pink against the dark room. You stared at them, completely aghast at your own mouth. The words tumbled past your lips before you could filter them. "I can do it again!" Your voice hitched immediately after, a sharp spike of panic hitting your chest. You clamped your jaw shut, biting hard down on your lower lip, wishing the wooden floorboards would just open up and swallow you whole. You don't know why you sounded desperate.

Unable to meet Kris’ gaze under the weight of that burning embarrassment, your eyes darted away, staring fixedly at the floorboards while you instinctively pulled your wings tighter around yourself, trying, and failing, to shield the furious, telltale flush spreading across your entire face.

You felt Kris flinched slightly.

"I mean—I don't mind! I want to—" you stammered, your voice rising in a frantic, embarrassed rush to defend yourself. "I mean, to clean you up afterward! Since... since you aren't cleaning your wounds properly. You could get an infection, and stuff... I mean, I know biting you leads to that, but if you like—if you want biting—cuz you open up your wound—I want to help..."

Your words tripped over each other, your tongue struggling to keep pace with your spiraling thoughts. You felt utterly exposed, hyperaware of the sound of your own rapid breathing, scrambling to construct any logical excuse to cover up the far intimate, selfish craving you refused to acknowledge out loud. Your eyes finally turned to Kris, they were looking at you.

For a long moment, the room was completely still. Kris didn't pull away or break the heavy eye contact, though the faint rise and fall of their chest quickened ever so slightly under the dark undergarment. Their red eyes searched your face, taking in the furious, burning flush on your ears, the way your wings were pulled tight around yourself, the frantic panic rising in your expression.

A slow, barely perceptible breath escaped Kris' lips. The tension in their shoulders didn't leave, but it softened into something far more vulnerable.

Without a word, Kris shifted closer, the fabric of their jeans rustling against the floorboards. They reached up with a slight, unsteady tremor in their fingers, slowly tilting their head to the side. They brushed their brown hair back, exposing the cold skin of their neck and the fresh, sore mark you had just left right in front of you once more.

They didn't say yes out loud. They didn't have to. Their quiet gaze just held yours, waiting, offering you the choice.

Your chest gave a hard, violent thump against your ribs. The room felt suddenly devoid of air.

You stared at the exposed stretch of their neck, at the faint shadow beneath their jaw and the fresh, tender mark that was still warm from your own teeth. Kris was sitting right there, offering it to you. No hesitation. No pulling back.

Your mouth went completely dry. The frantic panic that had just consumed you melted into something far heavier, far hotter, pooling right in the center of your abdomen. Your wings, still pinned tightly around your shoulders, loosened just a fraction, the tips trembling against the cold floorboards.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, you leaned forward.

You pushed kris down as you hovered on top of them, Kris shifted, carefully lowering themselves to sit directly beneath you on the floor, their back resting against the frame of their bed. Their knees bent outward, easily accommodating you as both of your legs slid into the space between theirs, locking the two of you together in the cramped dark space.

You brought your hands up, your fingers barely brushing the sides of their neck to keep them still. Your fur burned everywhere when your fingers made contact.

"Kris..." you breathed against their collarbone, your voice so low and raspy it was barely a sound at all.

You didn't wait for them to answer. Hovering just a fraction of an inch from the bruised skin, you parted your lips, feeling the point of your fangs rest lightly against their pulse point before you leaned in and pressed down once more.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Every night without fail, you found yourself heading over to Kris' room just for a little bite.

You didn’t like the taste. Fuck no. It was disgusting. Iron and thick, metallic warmth hitting your tongue after every single suction, your throat constricted as you fought back the violent urge to throw up. But Kris always made sure to take care of you in the aftermath of it all.

Their gentle touches as you pulled back, the soft, patient wipes of cloth cleaning the stray blood from your lips, the hushed praise whispered into the dark of how well you did... that was the reason you kept coming back.

You were hopelessly addicted to their touch, just like they were addicted to your fangs.

You still didn't fully understand how you felt about them yet, but you knew you were chasing the high of it. Those weird churns, the quiet flutters of fireworks that burst inside your chest and stomach every single time Kris gasped your name underneath you. You craved the way they held you so softly by the waist, their hands tracing a slow path down your thighs whenever you paused to breathe, only to shoot right up toward your sides, gripping tight the moment you bit down hard again.

Of course, you took care of them in the aftermath, too. You were always meticulous, making sure to only suck a small tablespoon of blood each night so Kris wouldn't lose too much or feel faint. You cleaned their wounds afterward..even if it felt useless, knowing you were just going to open them right back up tomorrow night. Guilt still gnawed at you. Kris had to walk around every day with those painful, raw marks on their neck.

And weirdly enough, they seemed completely fine with it.

Over time, the biting stopped being the center of it all. It became a necessary chore to reach what you actually wanted.

You found yourself lingering long after the blood was wiped away, the small tablespoon you took was already done. You didn't want to slip out through that bedroom window right away anymore. You wanted to stay.

Not for another bite..you didn't want your fangs anywhere near them for that part. Instead, you found yourself wanting to press your lips against the soft skin of their neck… gentle, slow, and without any of your sharp edges. You wanted to trace the faint bruises you’d left behind, soothing the very marks you caused with nothing but soft, quiet pressure. But you didn’t know if you were allowed to.

Kris called the shots. Despite the fact that you were the one on top, they were the ones who dictated everything. They sent the message whenever it was time for you to come. They were the ones who pointed out where to bite, and if you ever did something wrong, they guided you so gently, their hand sliding to the back of your head, lightly ruffling your hair to correct you until you completely melted beneath their touch.

You didn’t have the courage to act on your own without Kris’ permission. You were terrified of crossing a line they hadn't drawn, so you kept your impulsive thoughts tucked away, your lips still, and waited for cues that never came. But you weren’t always good with controlling your body, you always somehow found a way to disobey your own unspoken rules you set up for yourself.

It was bound to fall apart eventually, and it did.on a night when the restraint snapped without your permission.

After taking your usual small tablespoon of blood, you leaned in to clean the fresh puncture marks. That part was routine. You dragged your tongue over the wound, lapping away the stray red, expecting to pull back immediately like you always did. Except you didn't.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up to stop it. Instead of retreating, your tongue stayed pressed to their skin, slowly tracing a warm, damp path away from the bite. You dragged it up the side of their neck, long and deliberate, feeling the rough texture of your filiform papillae rasping against their bare flesh. You were crossing the line, you were going off script. But before you could pull away and apologise, Kris’ reaction cut the breath right out of your lungs.

A low, sharp hitch caught in their throat. Their fingers, which usually rested casually on your waist, instantly dug hard into your hips, pinning you down tighter against them. Their head tilted back into the pillow, exposing even more of their throat to you in a silent, undeniable invite. They weren't stopping you. They weren't moving their hand to the back of your head to guide you away. They liked it.

The realisation hit you like a rush of adrenaline. You weren't breaking their rules, you were just uncovering a part of the game neither of you had talked about yet. That’s what led to the nights where you didn't even bother sinking your fangs in right away.

You had been genuinely caught off guard to discover that your tongue alone could completely derail them. Because of your rough filiform papillae, every slow, deliberate drag across their skin created a raspy, intense friction and Kris' response was sharp, heavy, and immediate.

The moment your tongue made solid contact with the raw marks on their neck, Kris’ breath hitched into a low, ragged gasp. Their hands shot up, not to push you away, but to lock firmly around your waist and fingers digging hard into your sides, physically pulling you down tighter against their chest so you couldn't back off. Their posture stayed rigid, their knees bracketing yours firmly as they anchored you right where they wanted you on the bed.

It was such a sharp, intense reaction that you assumed it had to be a purely physical response. A sudden jolt from your coarse tongue irritating their unhealed wounds, stinging the fresh bites you'd left the night before. You had searched it up yesterday..or at least, you thought you did, half asleep while staring at your phone.

Something about how humans don't have thick fur to shield them, making their skin way too thin and sensitive for a tongue like yours. That rough, sandpapery texture was harsh enough on its own, but dragging it over a spot you’d already bitten and bruised? It had to sting like crazy. An absolute overload of sharp, burning friction that they had no choice but to feel.

When you finally leaned down to sink your fangs in, the shift was seamless. The instant the sharp bite met that coarse, dragging pressure, Kris’ grip on your sides tightened to a punishing crush. A low, muffled groan escaped their throat, lost against the mattress, but their eyes stayed locked onto yours, red, steady, and utterly unwavering through the intensity of it. They didn't break eye contact for a second, their chest heaving beneath yours as they took the hit, holding you pinned against them like a heavy weight they had no intention of letting go.

Seeing them take it so intensely..feeling the sheer strength in the hands locked around your waist…made your own heart hammer wildly against your ribs, chasing that flutter, blasting fireworks you felt. Even if you chalked their heavy breaths up to a sting on sensitive skin, the thrill of that quiet, unyielding focus made you want to drag your tongue over every inch of their neck just to see how much more they could handle.

You couldn’t remember when it had morphed into something this intense, It was during one of those nights that the shift became completely impossible to ignore.

Kris’ muffled gasps had been getting a little too loud, echoing faintly against the quiet walls of the room. Spurred by panic, they had hurriedly suggested turning over, offering to lay flat on their stomach while you perched on their back, so they could bury their face into the mattress and muffle whatever sounds escaped them.

You hated the idea instantly. You didn't want to look at the back of their head. You wanted to look at their face. You wanted to watch their red eyes flutter shut, to feel their hands gripping your sides, to stay anchored against their chest while you leaned in. Desperate not to give that up, you had marched over to their wardrobe, pulled out a soft, folded shirt, and handed it to them to stuff inside their mouth instead.

Afterward, the absurdity of your own possessiveness hit you like a bucket of cold water. It was weird. It was controlling. But you couldn't bring yourself to regret it.

From then on, the space between you started to feel infuriatingly wide, even when you were practically pinned together. Whenever you huddled on top of Kris, your legs slotted between theirs, your chest resting against theirs, you fought the urge to shift just a few inches higher. You wanted your face right next to theirs. You wanted to feel their breath against your cheek, to look down into those quiet red eyes and figure out what the hell was pulling you in so hard.

You didn't know what you were looking for yet. You didn't know what it meant to hover so close to their lips without a reason, or why your heart hammered a frantic, heavy rhythm against your ribs every time Kris’ hands stayed resting on your waist, keeping you anchored against them in the dark.

Your dreams certainly weren't helping, either.

The vivid nightmares of thick blood, sharp fangs, and raw necks had finally faded, only to be replaced by something far more dangerous. At first, they were completely mundane, just dreams of being around Kris. Laughing over something stupid, wandering through town together, actually getting to know the quiet person underneath all that brown hair.

But then the scenery would shift, the air in the dream growing thick and warm, pulling you both into quiet, heavy intimacy... until you woke up in the middle of the night, breathless, disoriented, and staring at the ceiling with a burning face and damp pants.

You didn’t know what was more embarrassing: facing Kris every night after having those shameless dreams about them, or facing them in class and pretending those late-night visits didn't exist.

Kris had been going to school regularly now, even if they always drifted in later than usual. Everyone who noticed seemed relieved to see them back, taking turns stepping up to check on them. Noelle offered to help with whatever homework they’d missed. Catti gave a blank, quiet welcome back from the next row over. Even Berdly had to chime in, asking in his usual obnoxious tone if Kris was finally ready to admit to cheating in Minecrap. You hadn't meant to eavesdrop. None of those conversations were meant for your ears, but you couldn't stop staring at Kris from across the room.

What drove you crazy was that Kris never glanced at you in class. Not once. They’d slouch low in their seat, dark bangs trailing over their eyes, acting like you were completely invisible. It made you feel deeply insecure, a strange, hollow numbness settling in your gut while something sharp and restless bubbled up in your chest.

In the daylight, surrounded by chatter, those dark midnight visits felt like a fever dream you’d made up in your head. But the thick, dark turtleneck Kris wore, covering their entire neck from view, was a silent, constant reminder that it was real. You had left those marks.

When the final bell rang, you hurriedly packed your bag, desperate to escape. Catti asked if you wanted to hang out, but you muttered a quiet excuse about being tired and brushed past the desks.

As you headed down the corridor, a firm hand suddenly pressed against your shoulder.

You froze. Kris didn't stop to talk, barely pausing as they brushed past you, but as their hand slid off your shoulder, they slipped a small, folded piece of paper into your palm.

Heart hammering against your ribs, you stepped off to the side, unfolded the tiny square, and read the scrawled handwriting:

“Stop staring at my neck in class. Come fix it tonight.”

It was a ridiculously simple note, scrawled down on a torn piece of paper. It shouldn’t have made your face burn like this. It shouldn’t have made your stomach drop into a freefall right there in the middle of the hallway.

You didn’t understand any of it. You didn’t understand why one person had this kind of hold over you..especially a human. A quiet, unpredictable human who somehow craved the very blood and pain you hated causing. The guilt of hurting them always hovered over you, but beneath that guilt was an overwhelming, dangerous pull you couldn't shake. You couldn't stop wanting to see them. You couldn't stop wanting to figure out what was hiding behind those dark bangs and quiet red eyes.

And tonight, you were done just playing along with the routine. You were going to find out.

When midnight rolled around, you didn't just slip through their bedroom window like a shadow fulfilling a chore. You landed on the soft carpet with deliberate, quiet intent. Kris was already on the bed, propped up against the headboard in the dim, amber wash of the streetlights outside. The heavy turtleneck they’d worn all day in class was gone, replaced by a loose, faded shirt that left the side of their neck completely bare. The faint, purplish shadows of yesterday's marks were exposed, resting right above the fresh bite from the night before. They didn't move as you approached, but their dark red eyes tracked every step you took across the room.

Instead of immediately straddling their lap or leaning in to take your share, you stopped at the edge of the mattress. You stood there in the quiet space between you, your heart hammering against your ribs, staring down into their face. Kris tilted their head slightly, a subtle, silent question in the way their brow twitched.

"You said to come fix it," your voice rasped out, barely louder than a whisper in the dark room.

Kris didn't answer right away. Slowly, they reached out, patting the mattress right beside them, not demanding, but inviting. You climbed onto the bed, but you didn't go for their neck. You shifted up until you were hovering right in front of them, close enough to feel the steady heat radiating off their skin, close enough to watch their breath hitch as you broke the unspoken protocol. "How about while I bite," you murmured, holding their gaze even as your pulse went wild. "We have a conversation."

The proposal hung in the dark between you, heavy and unexpected. Kris’ red eyes flickered, just a slight widening, the briefest break in their usual impassive mask, before settling back into that deep, stubborn stillness. Their chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm under your gaze.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the streetlights outside. Then, Kris shifted. They reached out, cool fingers brushing against the side of your face, trailing diwn to rest lightly against the back of your neck. It wasn't to force your head down or steer you into position. It was just a touch, anchoring you there right in front of them. "Conversations," Kris echoed, their voice a low, gravelly rasp against the quiet. A faint, almost imperceptible tilt lifted the corner of their mouth. "You never want to talk."

"Because you never talk," you murmured back, your pulse fluttering wildly where their thumb rested against your jawline. "It’s always instructions. You point, I bite, and then I leave before the sun comes up." Kris didn't deny it. Instead, their gaze drifted down to your mouth, watching the subtle movement of your lips before tracking back up to meet your eyes."What do you want to talk about?" they asked softly.

A sudden, unexpected warmth bloomed in your chest, light and fluttering. The heavy tension in the room snapped into something surprisingly sweet, and a quiet, nervous smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You were actually doing this. You were breaking through that rigid script. Hovering over them, you shifted closer, resting your forehead against theirs for a brief, breathless second before leaning down to their exposed collarbone.

"Okay," you whispered against their neck, your fangs just barely grazing bare skin. "Starting simple." You leaned in and sank your fangs into the soft flesh, careful and precise. Kris’ breath hitched instantly, a sharp, low gasp escaping their throat as their fingers dug into your waist, anchoring you tight against them. The metallic warmth flooded your mouth, making your stomach churn, you hated the taste of blood, the thick, coppery tang always forcing a bitter swallow, but you pushed through the unpleasant chore as quickly as you could, eager to reach what actually mattered.

Kris gasped briefly under you as you pulled back from the disgusting metallic dark blood and asked your question "What’s your favourite food?" you asked softly. The question bubbled out of you so innocent and mundane that it felt almost ridiculous in the heavy, dark quiet of the bedroom. Kris blinked, their red eyes slightly blown out from the bite, staring up at you in genuine shock. A tiny, incredulous huff of air escaped their nose.. they laughed, their laugh made your chest flutter.

"My favourite food?" Kris rasped, their voice thick as their thumb gently rubbed the side of your waist, you shivered. "Yeah," you murmured, dragging your tongue long and slow over their collarbone again, watching their chest heave beneath you. "You know... normal stuff. You never tell me anything about yourself." Kris’ grip on your waist tightened, a faint, fond amusement softening the edges of their dark expression.

"Pie.." Kris murmured, their gaze dropping back down to your mouth, lingering there with a quiet, lingering focus. "And chocolate." Hearing such a simple, sweet answer come out of someone who routinely held you pinned against them made your heart do a chaotic, happy flip. “What about you?” they asked softly, cutting you completely off guard.

The question hung in the air unexpected. You hadn’t been eating real food at all lately..it had been months since you last did, you thought. Or maybe weeks... everything was a blur. All you had been consuming lately was Kris. “You,” you blurted out softly, the word slipping past your lips before your brain could catch it. Kris froze. They stared up at you, their dark red eyes wide and their face intensely flushed. You couldn't even tell if the deep red hue spreading across their cheeks was from your sudden confession or just lingering heat from the bites, but you didn't need to guess, you could feel their heart suddenly racing like crazy, pounding frantically right against your chest.

"You," you repeated softly, leaning back down to sink your fangs in again. A slow, lingering press of sharp edges meeting tender skin that drew a ragged gasp directly from Kris’ throat.

You pulled away again, lapping up the stray red to leave their neck clean before hovering right above their mouth, watching as Kris lay flushed and panting beneath you, their red eyes completely blown out. "Okay, next question," you murmured softly, a tiny, fond smile breaking through as you watched their heaving chest. "What's your hobby?" You asked again innocently as they looked at you with a soft, gentle smile on their flushed skin.

"Piano," Kris repeated softly, the word slipping out between quiet, steadying breaths as their hand slid up your waist to gently rest against your cheek.

The image of Kris, quiet, slouching Kris, sitting at a piano playing music felt so sweet, so disarmingly ordinary, that it made your chest ache with a sudden wave of affection. You leaned into the warmth of their palm against your face, your heart fluttering wildly as you looked down at the rare, gentle smile softening their flushed skin. "Piano?" you whispered back, a quiet giggle catching in your throat as you traced the edge of their jawline with your tongue. "I thought it was gaming." You teased in between licks as Kris let out a quiet giggle mixed in with a huff. “Only sometimes.” They explained as you leaned down for another bite.

The rest of the night melted away in that quiet, cyclical rhythm.

With every fresh bite, your stomach would twist at the bitter, coppery taste, but you pushed through it, eager for the soft aftermath. You'd lap away the stray red, lingering with the rough, warm pressure of your tongue against their sensitive skin, and look up to find Kris flushed, heavy breathed, and waiting for you.

Between those moments of sharp friction and breathless gasps, you learned the smallest, most mundane pieces of them. You asked about their favourite place in town, if they preferred rain or sunshine, what kind of games they played when they weren't cheating in Minecrap. And Kris answered every single one (“I wasn’t cheating in Minecrap. He thinks I’m splicing my speedruns, but—ahhh—Fuck…fuck you..”) voice low and rasping, hands firmly anchored on your waist, thighs, hips and face patience unwavering as they watched your face light up with every quiet answer.

Yet even with all those quiet, sweet answers, the core ache remained entirely untouched. Learning how gentle Kris could be only made the knot in your chest pull tighter. You had no logical explanation for why your heart hammered until it hurt every time their fingers dug into your waist, or why a creature who hated the taste of blood would sink their fangs in again and again just to feel the heat of Kris' skin.

Now, those same endless questions kept running through your head in the quiet of your own room.

You sat alone at your desk, the plastic of a controller heavy in your hands and the pale, blue light from your PC monitor casting the only glow in the dark. Kris hadn’t messaged to invite you over tonight. That was okay. You needed the break from blood anyway. Lately, you were trying to force yourself to eat real food again, and you were starting to realise how sloppy and sluggish you were becoming without actual nourishment—

"I wonder what bachelorette is compatible with me," Noelle’s quiet, hesitant voice soft through your headset, pulling you sharply back from your thoughts. "What?" you asked, temporarily lost in the haze of your own head until quick realisation popped in. Oh, yeah... The new RPG you two were playing had romanceable NPCs the players could choose from, though you couldn’t remember how you’d ended up playing with Noelle in the first place. Not that you were complaining.

"Oh, I don’t know," you mumbled into the mic, shaking your head to clear it as you adjusted your grip on the controller. "I was thinking maybe that sweet shop keeper girl?" "Oh... h-her?" Noelle offered a gentle, polite little laugh, her avatar fidgeting left and right on screen. "Um, she’s really nice! Very sweet! But... well, she’s not really my type, I guess..."

"What's your type, then?" you asked.

"Ah! I—well, um..." Noelle stammered, her mic picking up the sudden, flustered rustle of her hands. "I mean... I guess someone who's... a little scary? I always liked scary things.. like, someone who's really strong, and maybe wears leather, and... and looks like they could totally crush me with one hand! Someone who's kind of mean on the outside, but... but really cool..." As Noelle trailed off into an adoring mutter, it hit you. You'd completely forgotten for a moment that Noelle was crushing on her.

"Like... Susie?" you asked.

The silence on the line was immediate, followed by a squeak so sharp it almost clipped Noelle's mic. "W-WHAT?! S-Susie?! I—I mean... I didn't say her name! Did I say her name?!" She took a deep, shaky breath, her avatar staring fixedly at the ground before she finally squeaked out, "...Yeah. Like Susie." A dull spike of irritation flickered in your chest, but it felt muted, buried under layers of fog. You hated Susie…mostly for bullying Kris. How did sweet Noelle even end up liking her? How did she even know her like that?

"Why her?" you asked, leaning closer to the mic, the words coming out distant, detached. "How do you even... know you like her?"

"W-well... I don't know, fahaha!" Noelle’s voice squeaked through the headset, her avatar taking a sharp step back on screen. "It... it might just be infatuation, honestly! I don't really know Susie, but... I would like to get to know her... She’s scary, and I find a thrill in that? I think I like her because, um... I can’t stop staring at her in class..."

Staring at them…

A sudden flash of memory took over. Dark, bang covered eyes. The oversized green and yellow striped sweater. Watching Kris snore quietly in the back of the classroom while the world faded into background noise.

"...and when she talks to me, I feel nervous, but it’s the good kind of nervous..." Noelle continued, her tone drifting into something dreamy.

The good kind of nervous...

The memory of your heart skipping a beat when you first ran after Kris after class, the air feeling thin and electric between you.

"...and um... I just find myself wanting to be closer," Noelle finished softly.

Wanting to be closer...

Every time you pulled away after suction. Wanting to be buried in their arms while they ran their fingers through your hair, falling asleep cuddled up together. Wanting more than just biting.

The irritation toward Susie dissolved, replaced by a hollow, fluttering sensation in your gut. Susie wasn't stealing Kris away. You were just jealous. Head over heels. Completely unraveled by them.

"Do you... have weird dreams about them, too?" the words spilled out before you could stop them.

A pause. "Them?" Noelle asked, her voice tinged with confusion. "Oh... do you mean her?"

A hot flush hit your fur, but it felt strangely disconnected, like a wave of heat passing over someone else's face. "Um, yes! Sorry, her—uh—yes, Susie!"

Noelle let out a light laugh. "Fahaha... yeah... kinda? It’s nothing much, just... me and her talking, and..." On screen, her avatar ran in rapid, frantic circles, spinning in place. "...and… holding hands?"

Oh, so you’re just a nasty little beast with your lewd little dreams.

A string of soft, hasty apologies slipped out words echoing as if spoken by someone else entirely before the game was closed and the game cut to black. The headset hit the desk with a muted thud. Then came the browser tab. Keycaps clicked in rapid, rhythmic strikes, typing frantically into the search bar, trying to find an answer, any answer for what to do with the sudden, crushing weight of this information. But the room felt strangely far away, the sound of the keyboard muffled, as if filtered through thick glass.

The bright glow of the monitor washed over the dark room, casting a cold, flickering light across the wall. Fingers moved across the mouse, scrolling through endless forums, quizzes, and threads in a mechanical rhythm. It felt like watching someone else’s hands work.

The words on the screen blurred together..disembodied advice, clinical descriptions of romantic attraction, cold explanations for feelings that felt entirely detached from the body typing them out. A heavy, hollow quiet settled over the room, making the air feel thin, almost artificial. Eventually, one search query bled into another. The cursor clicked aimlessly, drifting from questions about whether something was mutual to darker, stranger corners of the web. One click led to another until, eventually, a familiar title appeared on the screen.

A vampire forum.

Row after row of text filled the screen, humans collectively detailing an obsession with creatures that took and took. The words felt distant, like reading a language translated too many times. But somewhere below the surface, a dull weight settled in the pit of the stomach.

Is that what this is? Is that why Kris looks at you?

The thought didn't trigger panic so much as a strange, numb certainty. You weren't even what they hoped for. You were just a concept, a subject of fascination, something static to be observed. And yet, the eyes didn't leave the screen. The fingers kept clicking, link after link, endlessly researching a shadow you couldn't reach, entirely helpless to stop the cursor from moving.

With every article you read, you became more convinced that you had simply overthought everything. None of it felt like you. You certainly didn’t feel all those sappy, giddy emotions people described when they talked about being in love with Kris. Maybe not by textbook.. you did feel some things mentioned here but it only happened when you were hyperaware.

Or at least, that’s what you thought…until you found yourself talking to Berdly one morning before class. He was yapping endlessly about some guy at work hogging the library’s second floor, offended on a personal level.

"—it’s hard enough to maintain two part-time jobs! Don’t get me started on how many people in this town have books that are overdue and in need of returning. Their debts are only piling," he grumbled, adjusting his glasses with a theatrical flick of his feathers.

It was impossible to recall how the conversation had even started..something about teasing him, an offhand comment about him having no life, but the words drifted past without sticking.

"Kris hasn’t even returned that How To Draw Your Dragon book, and it’s two—"

"What book?"

The words cut through the fog, leaving your own mouth before the thought could fully form. The sudden sharpness in your voice sounded strange, unnatural in your own ears.

Berdly paused mid rant, his beak remaining half open as his eyes blinked behind his lenses. He pulled back slightly, striking a secretive, pompous pose as he tapped the side of his beak.

"It’s… well, I don’t know if I should speak about Kris’ private, not-so-safe-for-work literature," he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to an obnoxious whisper that still echoed across the row. "But the cover features a mauve dragon wearing... substantially less clothes, if you catch my drift."

The hallway seemed to tilt just a fraction. The cold light on the ceiling, the low hum of the fluorescent bulbs above, the distant chatter of classmates. Everything flattened into a static backdrop.

A mauve dragon. A dragon with purple scales. Pinkish purple skin. Spikes.

The image hovered in the mind, weightless and cold. It didn't trigger a surge of anger, nor a sharp spike of shock. Just a hollow, echoing stillness that settled deep in the chest.

Kris…the same Kris who lay flushed and breathless under your hands, the same Kris who let you sink your fangs into their neck just to hear them answer mundane questions to get to know them, had checked out a book about a mauve dragon.

The connection made itself without permission, a cold piece of logic slotting into place inside a machine.

Susie.

Berdly kept talking, his beak moving, his voice continuing its dull, far off vibration about library fines and proper cataloging ethics. But the words were meaningless now. You just sat there, staring blankly at the dark, empty lockers at the back of the room, feeling completely, utterly detached from the body sitting in the chair.

You had read about this the other day, pages of detached, clinical text scrolling on a screen in the dark. The supposed hatred toward Susie wasn't really about her at all. It was just a thin, ugly mask for a fear of rejection and a bitter sense of territoriality. In short: jealousy.

You could feel the faint, dull ember of it now, lingering somewhere deep in your chest. But you still remembered the intensity of how it felt before that horrible, poison thick sensation that had completely overtaken your entire body, knotting your stomach and making your breath run shallow. It seemed your body remembered it, too.

Because there you were, sitting at your desk, giving Susie a nasty, unblinking glare from across the classroom. You couldn't even remember walking through the school doors, or how you had ended up in your seat, or what lesson Ms. Alphys was currently rambling about at the chalkboard. The transition from your bedroom to this classroom was completely wiped from your mind, a gap in the film. But you didn't mind the fog. You just sat there, frozen in place, staring intensely at Susie.

And Susie was staring right back. Her yellow eyes narrowed beneath her messy, dark bangs, her sharp jaw set as the two of you locked into an unyielding, silent staring contest across the quiet room. Neither of you blinked. Neither of you looked away. Just two dangerous things sizing each other up in the middle of an ordinary morning.

Which led directly to why you were pacing the length of your room again.

Kris hadn’t messaged to tell you to come tonight either. Why?

It wasn't like you actually wanted to taste their blood again... The thought of that metallic tang still made your stomach twist. You just wanted to see them. Maybe... maybe help them return that overdue book. Yeah. That was a completely normal, rational reason.

What does Kris even like about dragons, anyway? Was it how scary they were? Your hands paused on your closet door. You were plenty scary! You were a creature of the night! A bat!...Okay, maybe a bat wasn't quite as intimidating as a giant, scaled beast, but still.

You yanked your wardrobe open, frantically rummaging through the hangers for your scarier, most vampirey, high gothic attire to prove your worth. But as your hands shoved past fabric after fabric, a far worse thought crept in, slowing your movements to a halt.

Or... did Kris like how underdressed the cover was? Did the dragon look like Susie? God, you hoped not.

You abandoned the dark, dramatic lace and started desperately tearing through your clothes again. Your eyes swept past the usual oversized hoodies and faded graphic tees, landing on a pair of loose, thin, surprisingly revealing pajamas tucked away in the back, soft fabric, but showing way more fur than you were used to wearing around anyone.

You stood frozen in front of the open wardrobe, holding a dark, structured outfit in one hand and the loose, revealing pajamas in the other, staring blankly into the rack.

"Gothic attire or less attire?" you mumbled out loud to the empty room, your voice flat, heavy, and completely, utterly lost in the absurdity of your own spiraling thoughts.

You were planning on visiting Kris tonight, even if they hadn’t invited you. You didn't know if this was crossing a line between two classmates, but honestly, that line had been crossed, rewritten, and stepped over so many times before that it barely existed anymore. Unable to decide, you quickly compromised by wearing both: the loose, revealing pajamas underneath and the heavy, overdressed gothic attire layered on top. You just hoped you wouldn't end up having to reveal too much of your fur.

Slip through your bedroom window. Land stealthily on the cool ground below. Walk the familiar path through the quiet, dark town toward Kris' house.

Kris likes vampires, right? Maybe if you just acted like one, cool, imposing, dangerous, you wouldn't have to think about them ever liking Susie. Not that you liked Kris... despite every piece of damning evidence pointing to the contrary.

When you arrived, you leaped up onto their windowsill, perching silently against the glass. You knocked gently against the cold pane, the light tapping echoing in the quiet night air.

Through the glass, you saw Kris sit up in bed. They swung their legs over the edge, walking toward the window in that quiet, slouching way of theirs. They stared out at you, dark red eyes blinking in clear surprise, before finally unlocking the latch and pushing the window open. "What's wrong?" Kris muttered, stepping back from the window frame to clear a path, their voice heavy with confusion as they called out to you.

Heat crept up your neck, burning hot against your face as those dark red eyes lingered on you. Embarrassment flared. You had no idea what to do next, but if this was the kind of scary, theatrical thing they were into...

You cleared your throat, forcing your posture into something stiff and formal. "May I come in?" Kris paused, staring at you with even deeper confusion before a slow, cocky smirk plastered across their face. You hated how much you loved seeing it. They leaned lazily against the window frame, watching you with open amusement before their lips parted. "Are we roleplaying now?" they asked, their tone dripping with smug confidence. "Is that why you showed up looking like a Victorian vampire?" Slowly, Kris reached out. Cool fingers brushed against the thick lace on your attire, trailing up and down the length of your arm to feel the dense, heavy fabric.

"Should've texted," they murmured, their eyes tracking the movement of their own hand. "I'm feeling a little underdressed... or is this what you're into?" A sharp shiver ran straight down your spine, and you couldn't tell if it was from the night air blowing or from the low, soft tone of Kris' voice. You couldn't even form a proper response. Instead, you just swallowed hard and repeated the line, your voice faltering just a bit. "M-may I come in?"

Kris’ smirk didn't fade. Their dark red eyes swept down, taking in every heavy, overdressed detail of your posture. "Unknown," they said simply..always so infuriatingly cryptic with their words. They leaned back just a fraction, crossing their arms over their chest as their smirk widened into a challenge. "Convince me to let you in."

The word hung in the cool air between you, heavy and sweet, charged with a strange, magnetic tension. You swallowed hard, trying to fight off the sudden heat burning against your cheeks as you leaned into the scene. Kris was watching you with that familiar, heavy lidded smirk, but their dark red eyes held a soft, quiet intensity that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

Stepping closer on the sill, you reached out, your fingers coming to rest gently against the warm curve of Kris' cheek. The gentle touch made their breath hitch, a tiny, vulnerable break in their playful composure.

"It's rude to keep a guest waiting," you murmured, forcing a smooth, theatrical composure to hide the sudden heat burning against your cheeks. Kris’ red eyes glittered with amusement. "An uninvited guest," they corrected softly, leaning right into your touch. They kept that unbearable, smug look plastered across their face, the warmth of their cheek radiating against your cold palm.

As your fingers rested there, your eyes drifted down to their throat, catching the faint, bruised purples and softened pinks peeking above their collar..the marks you had left behind on all those other nights. It made your head spin. How do they melt right into your touch like this, but still go home and hide some lewd dragon book to look at all by themself? "I know your secret," you hummed aloud, keeping your hand steady against their cheek.

Kris went completely quiet to hear, the smugness wavering into genuine interest as they waited for what you knew. You held their stare, trying to stay in this weird, dramatic character Kris apparently liked. "Maybe we can talk about it over some..." You paused, swallowing hard in sudden disgust at the word before forcing it out, "...bite together?"

Kris broke character immediately, letting out a low, breathless laugh. Their hand shot up, fingers twisting firmly into the heavy lace collar of your gothic attire. They yanked you forward, pulling you down off the sill just enough so you were hovering mere inches against their face, your breath mingling in the dim room. "I think I already know my secrets," Kris murmured, their cocky tone returning as their gaze flickered briefly down to your lips. "I don't need any reminders."

A sudden, violent flash of your own lewd dreams about Kris crashed into your mind, making your heart do a chaotic flip. Heat surged straight to your face. Caught entirely off guard, your brain short circuited. You didn’t know why the sudden memory flashed in your mind but without any control over your own tongue, the words tumbled out before you could stop them. "You don't know mine, though."

Kris’ grip on your collar slid away, leaving the fur there buzzing with cold air where their warm fingers had just been. As they melted back into the shadows of the bedroom, that lazy flick of their wrist felt less like an offer and more like a trap you were already doomed to step into. “Come in and have a bite.”

The moment your boots hit the bedroom floor, panic slammed into you with the force of a freight train. You aren’t going to tell them about those dreams, seriously... right? No way. Absolutely not. Your brain frantically scrambled to construct a backup plan, a lie, anything, while you turned back, latched the cold window shut, and drew a shaky breath. When you turned around, Kris was already sitting on the edge of the bed.

The amber light from the streetlamp outside washed over them, softening their features. They were watching you with a quiet, fond smile playing on their lips, their dark red eyes tracking your every move. Without taking their eyes off you, they lifted one hand and lazily patted the empty mattress right beside them.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, desperately trying to assemble your scattered composure into something resembling a smooth, mysterious vampire. "A secret for a secret," you declared, forcing your voice to stay steady as you crossed the room and sat down beside them. Kris turned toward you, leaning back slightly on their hands. "Is this another 'talk while you bite' kind of thing, or...?"

The question hung in the air, low and suggestive, making your face burn all over again. Your mind raced. How were you supposed to play this? You couldn't confess to those humiliating dreams. You needed to find out about that book first. You needed to remember the persona, you were supposed to be scary! Intimidating! A creature of the night! Something better than a dragon!

Before your rational brain could stop you, you raised both hands and shoved Kris hard in the chest. Taken completely by surprise, Kris let out a soft ‘oof’ as their balance snapped, falling backward and hitting the mattress with a heavy, dull thud. Keeping your weight shifted over them, you pressed your palm directly against the middle of their chest, right where their soul rested deep beneath the bone. The steady, heavy pounding of their heart thrummed directly against your skin, fast and rhythmic. A faint, dusty pink blush dusted across Kris'nose and cheeks, but they just lay there beneath you, watching your every move with quiet, unbothered amusement.

You leaned down, intending to sink your teeth into their neck, but the high collar of their shirt blocked your path. Mindless, dazed, and far too impatient to bother pulling the fabric aside, you lazily leaned in and pressed a warm, lingering kiss right against their jawline instead. Kris' breath hitched. You had never kissed them before. Kris stayed completely still, choosing to ignore the sudden shift in boundaries, so you desperately tried to ignore it, too. "A little birdie told me..." you breathed against their warm skin, cutting yourself off as you let your tongue flick lightly over the exact spot you had just kissed. "...that a certain someone had a certain lewd book."

You pulled back just enough to catch Kris' reaction. A deep red hue had taken over their face, though their heart was still hammering wildly under your palm. They stared up at you with a puzzled, completely lost expression. You leaned down closer and whispered the exact title of the dragon book directly against their ear. You watched their eyes fill first with recognition, then a flash of confusion, before finally settling into full, undeniable realisation. A slow smile crept back onto Kris's lips. You usually loved their smile, but this particular one gave you a terrible, sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. "Is that why you were glaring at a certain dragon today?" Kris teased softly.

Flustered, you pressed down harder on their chest, making them huff out a sudden burst of air. To make sure they couldn't wriggle away, you quickly swaddled their legs with your own to trap them, then gathered both of their wrists into your free hand, pinning them firmly above their head against the pillow. Kris' smile only grew wider. "Is that your secret? Jealousy?"

"I'm not jealous," you lied through your teeth, still in complete denial as you tried to force your voice back into a cool, calm tone. "Just wanted to help you get rid of it." Kris tilted their head back into the pillow, their eyes glinting. "How am I going to learn how to draw sexy dragons now?" You pressed down hard on their chest again, and Kris let out a breathless, wheezing laugh as the rest of the air was squeezed right out of them.

"You had enough time to learn..." you whispered softly against their ear, the words barely more than a murmur before you leaned in and bit down softly on the shell of it. The sharp, intimate sensation was completely new for both of you, so sudden that a soft, sharp gasp tore straight from Kris' throat. "You don't need it," you muttered, nibbling lightly on the tender skin of their ear as they let out another yelp, squirming underneath you.

A heavy, suffocating silence swept over the dark bedroom. Beneath your palm, Kris' chest was rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths, their wrists twitching faintly within your tight grip from being held pinned above their head for so long. "Why don't I?" Kris asked, their voice raspy, thick, and still intent on teasing you through the haze. "Were you... going to borrow it from the library?"

Your brain, utterly scrambled by the heat radiating off them and the chaotic pounding of your own heart, seized on the line like a lifeline. It was an obvious trap, but in your desperate bid to escape those humiliating jealousy allegations and the promise of telling them about your indecent dreams, you took the bait without a second thought. "...Yes," you lied, pulling back just an inch, your voice deadpan as you tried to reclaim your dignified, mysterious posture while still pinning them down. "...That was my secret. I wanted the book." Kris hummed, the quiet sound vibrating straight against your chest, soaked in so much deadpan sarcasm that it practically stung.

Utterly mortified at how easily they’d caught you in the lie, you couldn't take their smugness for another second. You leaned right back down, burying your burning face against the side of their neck.

"...I can go get it for you," Kris offered softly, their voice low and thick with amusement, their warm breath tickling your fur as they offered to retrieve it. You looked back at them, relief washing over you that they were actually going to surrender it so easily. Unclasping your hands from theirs, you quickly scrammed off of them so they could get to work.

Kris sat up with a quiet groan, rubbing their wrists in sweet relief. They swung their legs over the edge of the bed and crossed over to their brother’s side of the room. Reaching his desk, Kris pulled out the desk chair, dragging it across the floor until it was facing directly in front of their bed, suggesting you wait right there. They stepped out of the room, leaving the door cracked as you obliged, sitting still on the mattress and staring at the chair in absolute confusion.

Why did they bring the chair out? Were they going to do something after handing you the book? Were they trying to distract you so you'd forget about taking it away altogether?

Your thoughts raced, desperately searching for answers as you overthought every single detail. Your senses spiked, playing back every word and subtle body movement Kris had made before leaving, looping it repeatedly in your mind.

They seemed... attached to that stupid book. And that hum from earlier…it sounded entirely too suspicious. What did they even like about it anyway? Should you have looked it up before sneaking here? What on earth did they find so appealing about it? Was it just their hormones getting the better of them, or did they genuinely like how inappropriate it was?

You groaned, burying your face in your wings as you continued to spiral.

Should you just shed your gothic attire and skip straight to Plan B? With your face burning hot and red, you reached for the fasteners and slowly began undoing your outfit. But you stopped right before pulling it off completely, letting the heavy fabric rest loose and unbuttoned around your shoulders and hips just in case you were wrong about Kris’ intentions.

The door creaked open, and Kris finally walked back in, holding the book firmly in their hands. In the dim, amber glow of the bedroom, they didn't even notice how uncomfortably loose and disheveled your attire had become.

Kris sat down on the chair they had positioned, turning the book toward you to show off the front cover. Even in the shadowy room, your sharp bat eyes picked up every detail with agonizing clarity. It was a picture of a purple dragon, dressed immodestly in something ridiculous.

You didn't know if it was the awkward, suffocating way your half undone attire was hanging off your body, or the sudden, casual way Kris flipped the book open to start browsing through the inside pages..but the dragon bore an undeniable, infuriating resemblance to Susie.

A sharp scoff tore from your throat as you watched Kris happily flipping through page after page, looking entirely too content just to infuriate you. They continued to describe each page to you, hesitating on the more vulgar details, but nonetheless delivering them just to piss you off.

"On page fourteen, the tail positioning is actually pretty impressive," Kris drawled, completely unfazed as they casually flipped another page. "I mean, always thought Susie was a good muse for an artist. You think I should ask her to be mine?" That did it. Something inside you snapped.

While Kris kept their eyes glued to the ridiculous drawings, quietly babbling on, you reached up and silently shed the rest of your cumbersome gothic attire. The heavy velvet and lace pooled onto the bed, leaving you in just your loose, slightly revealing pajamas. Kris didn't even glance up (“Oh, dragons’ tails are attached right above—“) far too absorbed in their high brow art critique to notice the sudden change in temperature.

Before they could flip to page fifteen, you leaned forward, snatched the book straight out of their hands, and set it down softly on the floor. You made sure it didn't make a sound, the last thing either of you needed was Toriel knocking on the door to ask why books were slamming at midnight.

Before Kris could even register the loss of their literary treasure, you swung yourself right onto their lap.

The reaction was instant. Kris’ deadpan composure completely shattered. A sharp, ragged gasp tore from their throat as your hips settled against theirs, and a deep, violent blush surged up their neck, painting their face a brilliant crimson. their eyes darted everywhere in the dark room except at you, their hands hovering awkwardly in mid air near your waist, suddenly not knowing where to put them.

Your own cheeks were burning hot enough to light up the room, embarrassment clawing at your throat. But you fought through it, refusing to back down now. Reaching out, you gently cupped Kris’ cheek, your thumb resting against their warm skin as you firmly turned their face back toward yours.

"You already have a muse," you murmured softly, holding their wide, dark red gaze until they couldn't look away. "...Right here."

Taking their hand in yours, you gently guided Kris’ hand to rest against your waist, and, taking the hint, Kris slowly brought their other hand up to wrap around the other side. You leaned forward, hovering mere inches above their lips. For a long, silent moment, you both just stared into each other’s eyes, the quiet tension in the bedroom stretching thin and sweet. You felt Kris’ hand trail slowly up from your waist, their fingers weaving up toward your hair. Are they going to guide you to bite their neck again? you thought, your eyes instinctively flicking down to their throat.

Seeing their neck still covered by the collar of their top, you reached down to peel the shirt up over their head. But the moment your hands slid beneath the fabric and brushed against the warm skin of their bare stomach, Kris’ hand reached the back of your head. Gently, firmly, they tilted your face and brought you down into a kiss. You froze instantly beneath their lips, a sudden burst of fireworks exploding right in your stomach.

Kris pulled back slightly, ruby eyes searching your face to gauge your reaction. But you were completely stunned, locked in place. Before Kris could mumble whatever flustered excuse was forming under their breath, you snapped out of the shock, leaned right back in, and kissed them again.

Against your lips, you felt Kris melt into a soft, quiet smile. The feeling sent a swarm of wild butterflies fluttering through your chest. You pulled away just an inch, the sensation disappearing before you could even properly process it.

Your mind suddenly raced back to the research you had done..you couldn't even remember which late night it was..when you had desperately searched up why you were acting so crazy around Kris, trying to figure out if you were falling in love. You remembered how Noelle had once described knowing she was in love... that strange, overwhelming 'good kind of nervous.'

Testing the theory, you leaned in for another kiss. There it was..that exact fluttering, electric nervousness Noelle had talked about.

Still trying to make sense of it, you felt Kris’ hands travel down to your thighs, giving them a slow, gentle rub. Kris let out a soft, breathless giggle, trying to catch your lips back in the rhythm, making you giggle right along with them. As you leaned down to kiss them again, Kris slid one hand beneath your loose pajama shirt, their warm palm smoothing over your back and stomach. Little sparks of heat danced across your fur wherever they touched.

Desperate to catch every trace of that feeling, you began pressing soft, trailing kisses all over their face, watching the flush on their cheeks deepen while Kris gently massaged your waist, back and thighs. Finally, you brought your mouth back to theirs, settling into a kiss that lingered far longer than the rest.

Kris’ tongue flicked lightly against your lips, silently asking for permission, but you pulled back a fraction of an inch in complete confusion. Seeing you pause, Kris gave the fur at your side a light, playful pinch. You let out a tiny gasp and Kris immediately slipped their tongue inside.

Your breath caught. This was the absolute first time you had ever felt Kris’ human tongue against your own. You remembered reading about the differences between humans and monsters, endlessly curious about what it would actually feel like. Now you know. It was soft, slick, and thick against yours.

Your tongue swirled around Kris’, making them let out a sharp, ragged gasp as the rough, sandpaper texture of your long papillae grazed over their sensitive, smooth ones. The intense friction sent a jolt straight through them. You gently sucked on their tongue, feeling Kris tighten their grip on your waist, a low, helpless moan breaking straight through the kiss into your mouth.

As those brilliant sparks burst through your chest once more, the last of your doubts vanished into the quiet dark. You finally knew, without a single doubt, that you were completely in love with them…

The sheer weight of that realisation settled heavy in your chest, grounding you. Your suction eased, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you slowed the pace of the kiss, letting it turn deep, warm, and deliberate no longer fueled by frantic panic or hunger, but by an ache to just be close to them.

Kris' hands slid up from your waist, fingers tangling into the fur at the scruff of your neck, pulling you down just a tiny bit closer until there wasn't a sliver of air left between your chests. You pulled back just enough to look at them, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. Kris looked thoroughly wrecked hair messy, cheeks flushed a brilliant, burning red, chest rising and falling in quick, uneven shallow breaths.

For a second, the room was completely silent except for the sound of your shared breathing and the distant hum of the house down the hall.

Kris blinked up at you slowly, trying to regain their composure, though the slight tremble in their fingers against your waist betrayed them. A faint, lopsided twitch touched the corner of their mouth..a classic, quiet Kris response to an overwhelming moment. "You're... ticklish," Kris murmured, voice soft and breathless from the kiss, their thumb lightly stroking your side where they had pinched you earlier.

You let out a wet, half laugh, half sob, burying your face directly into the crook of their neck to hide the heat burning up your own face.

[minervahallowell]

I actually got the idea for my fic from this art made by dizzychelsy on Twitter. I adore it so much. I’ve also been thinking about making different types of monster!reader characters in the future. Also, obviously, the reader in my fic is gender ambiguous, so I didn’t really have the character’s art design fully in mind

[minervahallowell]

Hai it’s @bkinger12222 here IM YO BIGGEST FAN🤤❤️‍🩹

Hii love <3 Thank you so much for your support. Tbh, I was kinda shy that no one would like what I made, so your comments really made me feel better. I’m going to start working on part two, dw! If there’s anything wrong with the writing, I’d love to hear about it so I can improve myself more🩵

[minervahallowell]

AppleBiter — Kris x Bat!Reader

Minding your own business was the easiest way to get through the day when you felt detached from your own body. But ever since you started watching Kris in class, curiosity got the better of you. Fortunately, Kris is pretty curious about you, too… mostly about those bat fangs and what happens if you actually bite them.

Hii, everyone <3

I’m gonna keep this short, but last week I had a really good idea for a fanfic and immediately started writing it lol. I’ve always been really fascinated by books where the author knows how to write characters with deep psychological issues, and as someone with depersonalisation (I’m diagnosed), I was really happy with the way Toby wrote Kris and Noelle, who I personally see as representing ddd in their own ways kinda lol. So I wanted to make this x reader about someone who also suffers from it (which is why the narrative is a little wonky), along with some other mental disorders that I’d like you guys to try and guess.

Also, feel free to criticise anything about my fic, I know that it might not be THAT accurate to depersonalisation but it is accurate in my case.

Part 2

Warning: dissociation, touched starved reader and Kris, implied abuse, implied bullying, slightly unreliable narrator, bad memory, mentions of blood, biting, tooth-rotting fluff, slow burn and suggestive at the end but nothing explicit.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Hometown had a funny way of making every day feel exactly the same. The same police officer running around looking for trouble, not knowing the enemy is closer than she thinks. The same old Catty and Bratty glaring at each other from their respective yards.

It felt… like nothing you’ll ever do matters in this town.

Every morning followed the same routine. The same familiar faces passed by with the same greetings, the same shopkeepers unlocked their doors at the same hour, and the same golden sunlight spilled across the sidewalks as if it had memorised the streets.

Even your own house carried that same uneasy feeling, like some invisible loop was repeating itself every single day.

It didn’t help that the feeling always followed you home. It wouldn’t have been so bad if your family wasn’t…

Some people found comfort in things that never changed. In familiar routines, predictable mornings, and the reassuring knowledge that tomorrow would look very much like today. You weren’t sure you did.

Perhaps it was because every day seemed to follow the same script, and you had become rather good at playing your part. You followed the same routine because it was easier that way. Safer, somehow. As though if you kept doing everything in exactly the right order, time might be persuaded to hurry along.

You stood before the bathroom mirror, taking great care not to look directly into your own eyes. Instead, you studied the fading eyeliner beneath them. Much safer…

You opened the mirrored cabinet and searched through its contents until you found the dye. You placed it beside the sink.

Routine. You’d done this a hundred times.

Then, quite by accident, you looked up. You paused. It wasn’t that you didn’t recognise the face staring back. You did.

It simply didn't feel entirely like yours.

The thought vanished, leaving only the quiet that always followed it. And, as always, the question.. Did everyone feel this way? Or had they simply learned it was easier to ignore?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The school bell hadn’t rung yet. 

Hallways echoed with lockers slamming shut and half awake conversations. Someone called your name, snapping you back to reality.

It was the school’s snake jock, Jockington.

“So what’s, The deal with you, and Berdly?” Jockington asked, staring at you with amusement as he turned his head to follow your previous gaze, looking straight at Berdly.

Your eyes widened. “WHAT?”

Before he could say anything else, you immediately lunged at the snake, grabbing him by the base of his head and giving him a playful shake.

Instead of looking offended, he only laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“NOTHING?? I was ZONING OUT?!”

Jockington continued to chuckle, his grin only growing wider. “Dude. you were staring,” he teased. “Like. full ON statue, mode.”

You quickly let go of him, crossing your arms as you looked away. Truth is… you weren’t even sure if that reaction had been yours.The laugh, the shouting, grabbing Jockington. 

Your body had done it before you could think. Now you found yourself wondering whether you’d actually been embarrassed…

…or whether you were only watching yourself act embarrassed.

Before you could come up with another response, another voice cut through the conversation.

“Excuse me? What exactly are you two whispering about?” You already knew who it was before turning around. Berdly stood there, adjusting his glasses with a look of suspicion.

You didn’t really want to face him or answer his question, but the smug grin spreading across Jockington’s face made it clear he’d start some unpleasant rumour if you didn’t.

With a reluctant sigh, you turned to face the blue bird. “Nothing, really. Jockington just made a terrible joke.” Berdly eyed you with obvious amusement, one eyebrow raised as a smug grin spread across his beak.

“Oh, there’s no need to lie. I did notice you staring at me.” He adjusted his glasses with a self satisfied smile. “Though, who could blame you, Number Six?” You simply rolled your eyes as he launched into yet another speech about why he was convinced you liked him.

“Oh, I could tell just how infatuated you were with me during our gaming session last night,” he declared. His eyes drifted upward as he raised a feathered index finger, speaking as though he were stating an undeniable fact.

“You were so nervous being next to me that you kept running away.” His expression shifted dramatically from one moment to the next, making the whole performance strangely unsettling.

“…Berdly,” you began, only for him to hush you by saying your name.

“Although you are exceedingly skilled at gaming, I simply cannot return your affections. You are, regrettably, exceedingly poor at academics. Unless you want me to tutor you?” You shot Jockington a desperate look, silently begging him to help. His grin only grew wider, clearly enjoying the show.

“You two played, together?” he asked, making absolutely no effort to get you out of this. “It was an online game. We just happened to run into each other,” you explained.

Berdly let out an obnoxious chuckle before picking up where he left off. “Indeed! Kris and I found you wandering around by yourself (“Dude, I wanted to play alone,” you muttered) so I graciously offered to keep you company.” 

He let out a dramatic sigh. “Ah… Kris.” His expression shifted into one of exaggerated sympathy as he looked off into the distance.

“Overcome with jealousy at the thought of sharing my company with another, they had left.” He turned back to you with an almost apologetic smile.

“So, you see, I have to reject your feelings. I just can’t return them. I already have way too many friends who are infatuated with me.”

You ignored him…your mind drifted back to when Kris had left the game after finding you. The two of you weren’t particularly close, but it still stung that they’d rather play with Berdly than with you.

It stung, didn’t it?

…Or maybe you’re making a bigger deal out of it than it is. You can’t even tell anymore. A quiet sigh escaped you.

Mistaking your silence for heartbreak, Berdly awkwardly attempted to comfort you. You could only stare as yet another exaggerated look of sympathy settled across his face.

You found yourself wondering if it was exhausting for Berdly to switch so dramatically from one expression to the next.

Every emotion he displayed felt like an over the top performance for a conversation that had barely lasted a minute. You wondered if it ever bothered him, if he ever questioned whether his reactions were genuine enough.

You were already exhausted doing that yourself. Exhausted from overthinking how to act, respond and or feel. Every feeling had to be examined before you could trust that it was yours. 

You snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of your name, only catching half of what the bird said. 

“…Study with me at the library!” Berdly declared. “Noelle won’t be there, so I’ll be able to devote my full attention to you.” He finished by puckering his beak with a self satisfied smile.

…Is this his idea of flirting?

“Sorry. chicken bro. but We,ve already got, plans,” Jockington finally cut in.

Before Berdly could protest, the bell rang.“Hmph, Fortunate timing,” he scoffed, adjusting his glasses. “Perhaps your grades can still be salvaged another day.” With one last remark about your collective lack of academic prowess, he turned on his heel and left.

“What plans?” you asked, pointedly ignoring the parasite that had just vacated your presence.

“Me, and Catti are gonna, hang out at your Place,” Jockington said confidently. “I. kinda forgot to ask if, you wanted to come. but you are welcome to join us.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The classroom settled into its usual rhythm.

Books opened. Chairs scraped against the floor. Ms. Alphys nervously shuffled through a stack of papers at the front of the room, mumbling something about today’s lesson before writing on the board.

You barely listened.

Instead, you focused on giving yourself some sense of control, telling your hand to pick up the pencil lying on the desk.

You watched as your hand reached for it, the pencil rolling lazily between your fingers as your gaze drifted toward the window.

Another day. Another class. Another routine you’d memorised without ever meaning to. You knew exactly how the next few hours would go.

Berdly would answer all the questions nobody else wanted to answer. Jockington would somehow derail the lesson without even trying.Alphys would apologise for talking too fast. Someone would laugh. Kris would arrive.. Susie following after by half an hour..the bell would ring. School ends. Everyone leaves. Tomorrow would be the same.

…

"S-Sorry, everyone," Ms. Alphys laughed nervously. "'-I think I might've been talking too fast again... O-Okay... c-can anyone explain why some animals eventually developed into modern monster species?"

You ignored the lesson, telling yourself to lift your right leg. Your body obeyed, shooting upward in a sudden attempt to stretch just as Berdly's hand shot into the air. "An elementary question!" he announced.

You stopped paying attention after that.

"Uh.."

Your ears perked up at the sound of a friend's voice. You told yourself to stretch backward to see what was happening, and your body followed the order. Jockington was leaning toward Catti's desk.

"You got, a pencil?" he whispered.

Without looking up from her doodles, Catti held one out. Jockington reached for it, but it slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor between them. They stared at it in complete silence.

"...oh. right," Jockington said after a moment, chuckling. "I forgot. I don't, have hands." You saw Catti smile at him, admiring his total lack of self awareness.

With a low sigh, you laid your head on your desk and closed your eyes, trying to nap as the steady ticking of the classroom clock filled the silence beneath everyone's chatter.

…

You glanced up from your nap at the sound of the door creaking open.

Kris slipped into the classroom without a word, shutting the door behind them just as quietly. They didn’t apologise, they never did.

Ms. Alphys simply offered them a small, understanding smile before returning to the lesson, as though their late arrival had become just another part of the morning routine. Kris gave a lazy nod in return, wandering toward their desk at their usual slow, unhurried pace before collapsing into their chair. Almost immediately, they rested their head against the cool wood. It was only a matter of time until Susie followed right behind them…

Just like always..

‘…But why should it be the same today?’ A thought echoed louder than the others.

‘Stand up.’ You dared yourself, your fingers tightening around your pencil. ‘Just stand up.’

Nobody was looking. You could walk to the door, open it, and leave. That was all.

You didn’t move. Your heartbeat felt embarrassingly loud. ‘It’s just standing up. You’ve done it before.’ Your legs stayed exactly where they were. ‘Do it.’

Nothing. Your stomach twisted. Why is this so hard?

You let out a slow breath and glanced around the room. Nobody was paying attention to you, everyone was far too busy pretending to pay attention to the lesson instead. So why couldn’t you do something as simple as walk out?

A strange prickle at the back of your neck pulled you straight back to reality. You looked up.

Berdly was staring directly at you from across the classroom.

What.

The moment your eyes met, he smiled to himself and confidently adjusted his glasses. You immediately looked away.

Nope. Whatever conclusion he’d just reached in his own head, you wanted absolutely no part of it.

You quickly looked back down at your desk, doing your best to ignore Berdly’s gaze. Resting your head on your folded arms after adjusting your wings, you turned just enough to peek at the sleeping beauty across from you.

You’d never really thought much about it before, but ever since yesterday, you couldn’t stop thinking about how Kris had simply left the game the moment they ran into you.

It shouldn’t have bothered you.

The two of you had never really interacted much. If you were being honest, you’d never made much of an effort to.

Back when you were kids, Kris had a reputation for being a menace. They were always taking advantage of Noelle’s timid nature, sneaking up on her just to scare the daylights out of her.

They tried it on you once. You’d responded by baring your sharp fangs and threatening to eat them instead. Rather than looking frightened, Kris had simply stared at you in complete fascination.

Somehow, that unsettled you far more than if they’d screamed. After that, you made a quiet habit of keeping your distance. They were so unpredictable…It scared you back then.

Your gaze lingered on their sleeping figure, wondering if they were still capable of surprising you like that. Though lately, Kris seemed to be doing the opposite. They kept their distance from everyone, quietly shrinking into the background as if they wanted to disappear.

You tore your attention away from them and refocused on the thought that had been looping through your mind.

‘Stand up.’

‘Leave.’

‘Just do it.’

Nothing.

…You were simply, conveniently, paralysed.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

After class, as usual, you’d head to QC’s Diner. This time it was just you and Jockington waiting in one of the booths for Catti to finish her shift. He spent the time making jokes about whichever monsters he was convinced you liked this week.

You didn’t know why you were always his target for these kind of questions. Maybe because you reacted so strongly to them.

Either way, he had a habit of wandering straight into anyone’s personal space with the most absurd questions imaginable. “so… do you sleep. upside down or, in a Coffin?” “we. could use you for, Basketball.” “Do your wings, get Pins and Needles if, you lie on ‘em. wrong?”

“Are you. like… blind?”

“…What?” You blinked, turning your head slowly toward him. “Y’know. Bats.” He flicked his tail against the leg of the table booth, staring back with complete, unblinking sincerity. 

“Jockington.”

“…Wait. is that, racist?” You let out a low, weary sigh, resting your chin on your palm.

“My bad.” He shifted casually, resting his chin on his coils.

“so are you, blind?”

Despite the persistent numbness creeping back into your limbs, a genuine smile broke through. “My kind actually has better eyesight than most bats.”

There wasn’t much point in explaining it. Jockington would forget by next week and ask the exact same thing. Just like how he always forgot you were a fruit bat, somehow he managed to buy you burgers and jerky yesterday before blaming your fangs for his memory loss. The questions never stopped. Neither did the awful jokes. Not that you minded.

Wait.. that burger thing wasn’t even yesterday… It was getting harder to tell.

Every afternoon ended the same way. You’d wait for Catti to finish her shift, always finding some excuse to stay out of the house a little longer. Sometimes Jockington was already there, somehow discovering a brand new way to tease you each day.

On Snake Sundays, Noelle often joins the three of you. It had become a tradition years ago. The four of you would wander around Hometown until the sun began to set.

You can’t complain, though. You appreciate hanging out with your friends. It’s probably the only thing you’d want to stay consistent in your life.

Unlike home…

Though, you can’t really remember much about what it’s like living with your parents. Everything is always the same, following the same repetitive pattern, until you start to forget it all. Nothing serious ever happens there, anyway.

Well, anything you found alarming was just you being overdramatic.. that’s what they tell you, that’s why it’s easier to forget. 

The days had begun to blur together making it easier. If anything unusual had happened… surely you would’ve remembered it.

Well. You made pie with your mom once. You were… pretty sure that happened this week.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Later that night, like most nights, you ended up online again. Which, of course, meant dealing with Berdly. 

Ever since that fateful day, he’d been relentlessly pestering you both in games and at school. He somehow found every lobby you joined, followed you around the map, and flooded your inbox with messages.

‘Open mic’. ‘Unblock me.’ ‘Open mic.’ ‘Hello???’

However, you noticed Kris only joined Berdly every now and then. And whenever they did, they’d leave not long after seeing you. You told yourself it probably didn’t mean anything.

It still bothered you.

…

Before long, even those evenings with Berdly became difficult to separate into individual memories. They all blurred together. Not unpleasantly.

Just…Indistinguishable.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You lifted your head from your folded arms and wings, letting your eyes wander around the classroom. You wondered if anyone else felt like something was… off.

Ms. Alphys was nervously rambling about something again…you weren’t sure if it was about the lesson or one of her hyperfixations. You weren’t really listening, not that you were planning to. Berdly had already interrupted to ask something about the curriculum, eager to show off as usual.

Noelle kept glancing over her shoulder. Her eyes wandered until she met yours for only a moment before she offered a small, awkward smile and quickly looked back toward the front of the room. Temmie was enthusiastically scribbling in her notebook. Monster Kid kept aggressively shushing Snowy over something you couldn’t bring yourself to care about.

And Susie… she was leaning back in her chair, absentmindedly kicking the back of Kris’ seat.

“Hey,” she growled under her breath. “Hey.”

Kris didn’t react. They simply sat there with their head resting on the desk, cocooned beneath their sweater and hair as though nothing outside that little space could reach them. Not even Susie.

You found yourself watching them a little longer than everyone else. Nothing. Not even a glare. Not a sigh. Not the slightest hint of annoyance. Eventually, Susie seemed to grow bored of trying to get a reaction. She clicked her tongue, leaning back until her eyes caught yours.

She followed your gaze back to Kris, narrowed her eyes, and slowly dragged a sharp claw across her throat. A silent threat… or maybe a warning.

You let your eyes drift back down to your notebook. You knew you probably should’ve reacted…felt nervous, embarrassed, something. Instead, it felt like you’re behind a screen watching it happen to somebody else sitting in your seat. You glanced back toward her, but she’d already lost interest.

In the days that followed, you caught yourself looking over more often than you meant to. Or maybe it had always been happening. The days were beginning to bleed into one another, making it hard to tell where one memory ended and the next began.

You only stared at them because Kris never reacted. You wondered how anyone could ignore Susie for that long. But Kris looked just as unbothered every single time she tried.

It was strange. You couldn’t decide whether they were incredibly patient… or simply somewhere else entirely.

Your pencil was rolling lazily between your fingers. You didn't remember picking it up, nor could you recall how many minutes, or days..you’d been sitting there watching it spin. It was just another moment lost in the quiet pull of Kris' orbit. You found yourself wondering what went on beneath that curtain of dark hair. Were they listening? Sleeping? Daydreaming?

Or were they just… existing?

The idea felt oddly familiar.

You remained completely still, lost in thought as you watched Kris’ sleeping figure get bothered once more.

This time, Monster Kid was the one annoying Kris, sliding little notes across the desk in a bid for their attention. Kris ignored the first one. Then the second. Then the third. When subtlety failed, Monster Kid started throwing crumpled pieces of paper at them instead. Kris didn’t even look up.

…you’re staring.

Oh, right.

Whenever you caught yourself staring, you tried to look away before anyone else noticed. You didn’t want a repeat of whatever happened last time with Susie. Your gaze drifted toward the classroom window, where the leaves barely stirred in the afternoon breeze.

You frowned as a quiet realisation hit you.. you couldn’t actually remember when Susie had caught you staring, or what she’d even done. Only that it had left behind a lingering warning..you shouldn’t get caught again.

You let out a soft sigh, watching yourself sit silently through class as your eyes wandered before finally landing on the teacher.

Ms. Alphys looked suspiciously like a ripe mango. You’d do almost anything to sink your teeth into a mango right now. Your stomach growled, and without thinking, you absentmindedly lifted the back of your hand to your mouth, gently nibbling at it with your fangs.

Your eyes wandered back to Kris out of habit.

They were already looking at you.

The two of you made eye contact. You froze.

Neither of you looked away. You slowly lowered your hand, warmth creeping into your cheeks. You didn’t know how to act, but you found yourself taking distinct note of their eyes.

Red.

You could’ve sworn humans didn’t have red eyes.

A few quiet seconds passed before Kris blinked once and quietly rested their head back on the desk, as though nothing had happened.

That was it?

You weren’t sure what you’d expected. Your heart gave one confused thump against your ribs before settling again. You stared down at your notebook. Why did that feel so strange? So warm?

Maybe it hadn’t meant anything. Maybe you were only trying to convince yourself something had happened because you were tired of every day feeling exactly the same. Should you feel more embarrassed about it?

You let out a slow breath as Ms. Mango called on Berdly again.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You liked playing games. It was the only time you felt like you truly belonged somewhere, where all those strange feelings you had about life seemed to make sense.

Because unlike real life, you were actually behind a screen and you didn’t think it was an unusual feeling. It was refreshing, watching your avatar follow every instruction you gave them. Every movement, every decision, every action was yours to control.

It was a relief to do something where you never had to question whether what happened was really your doing or not. You knew you were the one holding the controller. You knew the character on the screen was only doing what you told them to do.

For once, there was no uncertainty about where you ended and something else began. 

You’d barely loaded into the server before two familiar usernames caught your eye.

Smartgeniusnewadmin

Deviled_Dreamer

Oh, great… Before you could quietly leave, Berdly’s voice suddenly echoed through proximity chat.

“Kris! That is blatant abuse of advanced movement techniques!” Berdly exclaimed indignantly.

“…It’s wavedashing,” you heard Kris reply flatly.

“You cannot seriously expect me to believe that amount of wavedashing is legitimate,” Berdly protested.

“It’s in the game,” Kris said simply.

“It may be in the game,” Berdly argued, his voice rising with each word, “but that does not make it honourable!”

There was a brief pause. “Sounds like a skill issue,” Kris remarked casually. You froze, fighting back a chuckle. “EXCUSE ME?!” Berdly cried, immediately sounding offended.

Kris remained perfectly calm. “I said it sounds like a skill issue,” they repeated, their voice completely deadpan.

“I— You— That is not even remotely—” You could practically hear Berdly short circuiting through the microphone. “Oh!” he suddenly exclaimed, as though only just noticing your username. “Number Six! Perfect timing.” You winced.

“Please settle this,” Berdly demanded. “Kris insists that wavedashing is fair.”

“It is.”

“See what I have to deal with?” Berdly said triumphantly. “No one asked you,” Kris replied. “KRIS!” Berdly shouted, outraged. You couldn’t help smiling. “I think you’re just jealous of them, Berdly,” you said teasingly.

There was a long, offended silence. “…I expected better from you,” Berdly said at last, sounding genuinely disappointed. “That’s unfortunate,” Kris replied calmly.

“KRIS!”

You laughed before you could stop yourself.

For a while, Berdly continued arguing while Kris occasionally threw in a short response…usually just enough to irritate him further. It almost seemed deliberate, like Kris was doing it just to see how long it would take before Berdly finally snapped.

You found yourself listening more than playing. Kris’s voice was quieter than you expected. Calm. And every now and then, just a little bit mischievous. A faint warmth flickered somewhere in your chest… or maybe your stomach. It disappeared before you could make sense of it.

Unfortunately, Kris eventually informed Berdly that they had to go. A moment later, their username disappeared from the game, and just like that, they logged off without even acknowledging you.

You stared at the screen for a moment. They had just joined, and now they were gone. You tried to brush it off, forcing your voice to sound unbothered.

“So… isn’t it weird that they left right after literally just joining?”

Well, fuck. There goes trying to sound unbothered.

There was a pause. “Yeah,” Berdly admitted, sounding slightly puzzled himself. “Actually, it is rather strange. They were the one who kept suggesting we play this game,” he continued, sounding increasingly confused. “And now they join for, what, five minutes? Then immediately leave?”

“Okay,” you found yourself muttering, mostly to yourself. “That’s weird.”

“Right?” Berdly agreed.

You leaned back in your chair, staring at the empty space where Kris’s username had been. You weren’t sure why it bothered you. It was probably nothing.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Do you think the new girl noticed my shampoo?”

You looked up from your food to the source of the voice. It was Noelle. She held up a juice box for you, but she wasn’t looking directly at you. Her eyes were fixed on the purple beast behind you.

“I don’t know why I said that, just ignore me!” She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out an awkward laugh. “Fahaha…” You noticed a faint blush settling on one of her cheeks.

“The new girl?” You didn’t know why you repeated that. You took the juice box from Noelle’s hands and gestured a small muah as a way to say thank you.

“Yeah.” Noelle tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Susie.” She sat next to you on the school’s entrance stairs.

“Oh.” You stared at her for a moment, feeling yourself grin. “Why would you want her to notice your shampoo?”

“I don’t know!” Noelle’s face immediately flushed. “I just… maybe she noticed? I changed it recently.” She took her lunch out of the paper bag in her hand. 

“You want Susie to notice your shampoo?”

“No!” The answer came so quickly that you laughed. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure.” You felt yourself smiling again.

Noelle shot you a suspicious glance before returning to her lunch. “Anyway,” she continued, “she's been here for… what, I don't know. I can't even remember.” She took a bite, putting on a big show of trying to recall. “Five months ago?” She paused, frowning as if doing complex math. “Five months, two weeks, and five days ago,” she said, dropping the pretense with a smug smile.

You stared at her, just looking at her, waiting for yourself to speak. It took a few moments.“Noelle.” You finally heard yourself talk.

“What?”

“You might as well have added in the hours and minutes to that.” You found yourself joking with her, watching her nervously squirm next to you.

“What!” She averted her eyes to the floor, trying to seem puzzled at your implication. “You know the exact number of days,” you pointed out.

“I was guessing!” Noelle quickly defended herself.

“That’s a very specific guess.”

Noelle let out a nervous little laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “Okay, fine. Maybe I remember a little.”

You shook your head, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “That’s kind of impressive,” you admitted.

“Thank you.” Noelle gave you a small, proud smile.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’ll take it anyway.”

You laughed, and Noelle smiled too, but her eyes quickly wandered back down to her food.

“She’s still really strange, though,” she mumbled.

“Susie?”

“Yeah.” Noelle poked at her food with her fork. “She bothers everyone, but she never bothers me.”

“That’s true.”

“Right?” Noelle looked up at you, almost relieved that you agreed with her.

“Maybe she likes you.” The words came out before you even had the chance to think about them.

Noelle nearly choked. “What?!” she exclaimed, staring at you with wide eyes.

You heard yourself laugh. “No, wait—”

“No!” Noelle immediately shook her head. “That’s not—why would you say that?!”

“I meant that she might like you in a friendly way!” you said between laughs. “Did you think I meant romantically?”

“That’s not funny!” she complained, her face already beginning to flush red. She couldn’t believe she’d misunderstood you like that.

“It was a little funny.”

“No, it wasn’t!” Noelle insisted.

“It was.”

“No, it really wasn’t!”

You felt yourself laughing harder as Noelle’s face turned bright red. You quickly covered your mouth, trying to hold it in, but the small smile tugging at your lips gave you away.

“Stop,” she mumbled, crossing her arms and looking away from you. “Actually,” she said after a moment, “there’s something else that’s weird.”

You looked back at her. “What?”

“It’s Kris.”

“Kris?” You didn’t know why you repeated their name so quickly.

Noelle nodded, her eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown. “I don’t understand why Susie hates them so much.” She fiddled nervously with her hands, her food forgotten in her lap. “And… I know she hasn’t exactly been nice to you, either. Well, she isn’t nice to anyone in general… fahahaha…” She gave an awkward laugh, her voice dropping to a soft mumble. “I saw her threaten you the other day…” she added, wincing as though she instantly regretted bringing it up.

You looked at her, confused. “Was that recent?” you asked. “Or was that when I got partnered with her for, like, the tenth time?”

“Well… I guess?” Noelle replied. “I think it was a 5 weeks ago? She pulled you away after class and said something about you telling on her for messing with Kris during class.”

You vaguely remembered that. Was that when she caught you staring? It wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for Susie. She always came up with some excuse to hurt someone, yourself included. She was always convinced that you were going to rat her out for not doing anything during school projects or talk shit about her to everyone else.

You remembered the first time you’d met Susie. It hadn’t exactly been pleasant. You’d barely known her when she shoved you against the wall, one hand gripping the front of your shirt as she demanded to know if you’d been “talking about her.” You hadn’t even known what she was talking about. You remembered the way she’d laughed when you stammered out an answer, and the way she’d given you one final shove before walking away, leaving you to straighten your clothes and pretend you weren’t shaken.

It wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to you, but it wasn’t exactly something you looked back on fondly, either.

“Sorry for bringing this up.” Noelle’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You tried not to dwell on things like that. Thinking about the negatives never did you any good. “No, it’s alright. I was just trying to remember what happened.” You accidentally admitted it to Noelle.

Noelle shifted uncomfortably. She hesitated, like she was about to ask you something. You knew what it was going to be… you always knew. But she dropped it, and you were thankful for that.

Instead, she gave you a couple of pats on the head. You assumed it was out of habit. She did this to comfort Catti sometimes since Catti loved head pats from Noelle. You didn’t really get it. It felt nice, but mostly uncomfortable. You couldn’t complain, though; the scratches could be nice.

And now you could smell the shampoo Noelle had been talking about.

Apples?

“You smell like apples…” You leaned in to sniff her, only for Noelle to push your face away with a giggle.

“Why did you want Susie to notice that?” you giggled back, watching yourself playfully sniff her hand before she let out an, “Ew!”

“To stop bothering Kris, I guess?” She squeezed her eyes shut, slightly embarrassed. “Oh, yeah. That’ll stop the beast,” you joked sarcastically.

Noelle giggled, but then her expression suddenly changed. “Well…” she said quietly, “the other day, I caught Susie threatening Kris because they smelled like apples.”

You stared at her, waiting for the delayed confusion to kick in.

“...What?” You pulled away, your nose finally breaking contact with Noelle’s hand.

Noelle shifted in her seat. “I mean… I didn’t exactly catch her doing it. I was hiding outside the classroom.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was about a week ago,” Noelle explained. “After the bell rang, everyone left, but Kris was still asleep at their desk. Susie hadn’t left either. She was just sitting there, staring at them. I thought it was weird, so I stayed outside the classroom for a little while. I didn’t want her to see me, though. I was worried she might do something to Kris.” Noelle nervously fidgeted with her fingers. “But then.. Susie got up and went over to Ms. Alphys’s desk. She grabbed an apple that Berdly had given her a few days ago and started talking to Kris.”

You didn't know how to respond to that. You searched through your head for something appropriate to say, but nothing came to mind.

Noelle looked at you, almost as if she already knew what you were trying to ask. "She called them an idiot... a lot." Her eyes widened nervously.

You looked down, only just noticing you hadn't touched your sandwich in a while. "Then she said something about their shampoo," Noelle added. "Why?" You finally took a bite.

"I don't know." Noelle shook her head. "She complimented their shampoo. Then she told Kris they should be careful about wearing it around her."

You really hoped Susie wasn’t secretly flirting with Kris. You’d always disliked the whole ‘tough love’ excuse.

"And then.." Noelle's expression tightened.

"She bit the apple."

You looked down at your hand, almost daring it to reach for the rock lying beside you in the grass.

"The whole thing," Noelle continued. "She bit it in half. Even the core."

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. Dropping the sandwich back onto its wrapper, your fingers finally closed around the oddly shaped rock.

"Then she told Kris to keep smelling like apples. She said if they didn't, they might end up just like it."

You felt the dusty warmth of the stone against your palm, clenching it tighter, testing the rough edges as they dug into your skin.

“Kris didn’t react,” Noelle continued. “So Susie threw the apple at them.”

You could picture it. You’d been watching Kris for a while now. It sounded like them to be completely unbothered, but you wondered how they would react to having an already-eaten apple thrown at them.

"Kris caught it.." Noelle paused. "Then they took a bite out of it."

You stared at her, trying to picture it. Your stomach did a little flip... you think. You weren't really sure. Mostly, you just wished you could see Kris do something other than sleep through class.

Noelle looked at you, confused, but she didn't push it. Did you look weird? Was your expression off? Should you say something to fix it?

"Why take a bite of the apple?" you asked, half curious.

"I don't know why they did that," Noelle said, shuddering slightly. "But Susie got really angry. She grabbed Kris by the collar and started threatening them."

Your expression slowly changed as you looked down at the rock clenched in your hand. Noelle looked down, too. “That’s why you changed your shampoo?” You threw the rock into a nearby bush.

Noelle nodded. “I thought maybe… if I smelled like apples too, Susie wouldn’t bother Kris about it anymore.”

“I guess that’s noble of you…?” You weren’t sure whether that made the situation more confusing or less. “Can’t you switch seats with Kris?” you asked softly. “You know, since Susie doesn’t seem to bother you at all.” Noelle’s back straightened as she leaned forward. “I did!” she suddenly blurted. “But Kris kept turning my offer down…” She sighed.

“Weird,” you mumbled.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Apples…did they like apples? Was that their favourite food?

…are humans herbivores? Did humans primarily eat apples? Was that why?

You caught yourself wondering about it after today’s conversation with Noelle.

Somehow, you were already sitting at your desk in your study room, turning on your PC and browsing for information about humans. You’d been curious before, when you were a kid. But the way Noelle would scream in horror whenever Kris got too close to her back then… ultimately, it had made you stop wondering. Now, though… It was back.

You felt your fingers brush against the surface of the keyboard as you typed your first question into the search bar.

                  Do humans like apples?|

You waited for the blue loading bar to crawl across the screen before the results finally appeared.

It took you an embarrassingly long time to read through everything you could find about whether humans actually liked apples or not.

Over time, you leaned back in your chair, returning to the main page.

Your eyes wandered across the screen, scanning the countless purple links you’d clicked on.

Do Humans Prefer Apples Over Other Fruits? — Academic Research Archive

Human Dietary Preferences and Apple Consumption

Humans Eat Other Humans But Not In The Way You Think

Fruit Preferences Across Human Populations — International Journal of Nutrition

Human Taste Perception and Sweetness Preference

Well, it did answer some of your questions about it. Excluding one of them, but you were going to pretend you never read that article.

Before you could think about it, your fingers already typed in a different question that you had yesterday.

Or was it the day before yesterday? 

               Do humans have red eyes?|

Human Iris Pigmentation and Genetics — Monster Genetics Institute

Human Eye Anatomy: Iris, Pupil, and Sclera

Yeah, that was enough research for now.

…Probably.

But you couldn’t stop. You kept searching more and more about humans. Curious about their lack of fur, mostly. How did they even stay warm? Did they just get cold all the time?

You clicked on another article.

Apparently, human’s filiform papillae weren’t rough enough to groom with. Not many monsters had tongues like yours, anyway. But you were still curious about how a human tongue felt. How it worked.

So… was it just wet? How do they lick things?

You clicked on another link...no helpful information regarding this topic..

You searched for a different question instead and clicked on a link.  Humans had teeth, but apparently didn’t use them to fight. They had claws, but they were so small that they were practically useless. They couldn’t even see in the dark.

You scrolled down.

You wondered if their skin was soft. If their hair was soft, too. Maybe that was why they didn’t have fur.

You searched for a few more things.

Nothing particularly interesting. You were about to type another question when—

BZZT!

A notification appeared in the corner of your screen. You blinked, it was Berdly. 

‘No game tonight?’

Another message appeared. 

‘Are you asleep?’ You glanced at the clock.

12:03 AM.

Maybe that was enough searching for tonight.

You turned off the PC, and your reflection appeared in the darkened monitor.

You hated it.

Still, you found yourself staring.

Your eyes moved across the face staring back at you, taking in the features you’d spent so long learning to recognise as your own. Your dye was fading again. You’d completely forgotten about Berdly by then. All you could think about was fixing it. So you went straight to re-dye.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You could hear the sound of the morning bird chirping in the classroom.

“AKTUSHALLY, Temmie. It’s ‘Tem is smart,’ not ‘Tem a smart.’” Chirped Berdy. 

You didn’t know why Berdly was informing Temmie about this. Not like you cared enough to listen.

You looked around the classroom to see Ms. Alphys struggling to keep Berdly from talking any further. She had a blue marker in her hand, and it seemed she had just written “Tuesday” on the board.

You leaned back in your chair and looked down at the book in front of you. You still didn’t feel like you were physically here, and you wanted to change that.

So you told yourself to pick up the book, and watched yourself do it. You told yourself to close it, and watched yourself do that, too.

You took a deep breath.

Then you told yourself to open the book again. You watched yourself do it before looking down at your hands. You closed the book, opened it again, then reached over and touched one hand with the other.

It didn’t feel like your hand.

You leaned forward onto your desk, adjusting your wings so you could comfortably use your arms as a cushion for your head. You focused on your breathing, trying to figure out whether you were actually breathing or just pretending to.

You told yourself to shuffle your legs. You felt yourself do it.

‘Move it to the right.’ Your leg moved to the right. ‘Stomp your feet.’ It did. ‘Move your ears.’ Your ears moved. But you still feel paralysed..

‘Stand up.’ You told yourself to stand up. But you stayed where you were. It always ended like this. ‘Leave.’ You told yourself again. Nothing…your body simply, conveniently, disobeyed.

Then… The classroom fell quiet.

The scrape of a single chair echoed through the room. “K-Kris?” Ms. Alphys stammered.

Your eyes snapped toward them. They stood. Walked to the door. Opened it. And left.

“…O-oh, um…” The yellow lizard stared awkwardly at the now empty doorway before turning back to the class. “Th-They’re probably just going to the bathroom,” she said with an uneasy laugh, trying to excuse their complete lack of communication.

The classroom settled back into its usual rhythm. Alphys resumed the lesson. Pencils scratched across paper. Someone yawned. As if nothing had happened.

You stared at the door. They just… Left. No explanation. No permission. No awkward apology. They just stood up and left.

Your pulse quickened. See? Someone already broke the script. Nothing happened. Your leg bounced beneath the desk.

‘Stand up.’ … ‘Now.’

Before you could think yourself out of it, you pushed your chair back. The sound made your stomach drop. Nobody looked. Slowly, you stood. Your heart pounded against your ribs with every step toward the door.

“U-Um?” Alphys blinked at you.

You froze for half a second. “…Fresh air,” you mumbled.

“O-oh! O-Okay.”

You nodded once and slipped out into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind you. Only after the silence of the hallway settled around you did a thought finally catch up with your feet.

Why are you following Kris?

Your pace slowed as you reached the school’s front doors. Pushing one open, you spotted the familiar green sweater the human always wore. Your stomach sank.

“…Hey.” The greeting slipped out before you had the chance to reconsider it.

Did you really just do that? It felt strange. Like you were watching someone else speak through you, someone who was much braver, or much more reckless than you were...

Kris stopped walking. They turned to face you. “Hey.” Their voice was as flat as ever.

You waited for the embarrassment to hit. The panic. The regret. Anything. But it all felt strangely distant, like you were watching the scene happen from somewhere behind your own eyes.

Kris tilted their head slightly. “So…?”

Right. You were supposed to say something.

“Why did you leave?” You blurted out..unsure whether you meant the class or the game… maybe you meant both.

They tilted their head in confusion before answering vaguely. “Nothing to do.” They seemed surprised that you would even be talking to them. “Did you follow me to ask that?”

“I just…” you started, looking for some excuse.

Maybe asking them to be partnered with you from now on instead of being stuck with their mom. Yeah, great idea. Go with that.

“Do you want to be my partner from now on?” You didn’t think anything about what you said until you saw a dusted pink blush painted on Kris’ cheeks. They looked at you awkwardly, looking at you for any signs of a potential joke.

“Partner..?”

“What?” they questioned again.

Your cheeks reddened at the realisation as you tried to explain yourself properly.

“No, I mean—” You gestured vaguely. “For projects. And stuff. Not…” Your hands somehow made the explanation worse. “Um, I didn’t want to be stuck partnering up with Susie again.” You partially lied, finally clearing up the embarrassing misunderstanding.

After a long silence, you averted your gaze, unable to look back at Kris. Every time you tried, your stomach twisted, and your eyes instinctively darted back down.

“…No,” you heard Kris say, rejecting your excuse.

You couldn’t look at them. You don’t even remember what you said after that. All you remember is that you didn’t go back to class, nor did you follow them. Instead, you found yourself wandering around town alone. It had been a while since you’d done that.

Funny. After practically shutting down while talking to Kris, you felt strangely calm now. Your body had finally settled, as if all those overwhelming reactions had simply burned themselves out. None of it felt like you. The trembling, the twisting in your stomach, the way you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at them. It didn’t feel like something you would do. But every now and then, you were forced to face those reactions anyway.

It was still strange that you had acted that way around Kris. You weren’t this pathetic when talking to anyone else. You let out a frustrated groan, feeling like you needed to get it out somehow.

Without really thinking about it, you headed toward the beach.

It had been a while since you’d come here just to waste some time.

Nothing much happened. You kicked at the sand, threw rocks into the lake, and even tried screaming toward the water, though your voice came out weaker than you’d hoped. You weren’t really sure what you were trying to accomplish

Maybe you just wanted to feel something after whatever happened with Kris…

You refused to believe that was you. You just hoped you’d forget about it in a couple of days, but the memory still lingered in the back of your mind.

You attempted to scream again. It still felt strangely distant from yourself, like you were watching everything happen from somewhere just behind your own eyes. You briefly considered ignoring every social norm you’d ever been taught and walk straight into the lake with your clothes on, but you weren’t brave enough for that. You weren’t even brave enough to sit down on the sand.

Your father would get mad if you did.

Just like he’d get mad if he ever found out what you’d done today…just like he’d get mad if he ever found out what you’d done today. Well… if he ever found out, anyway.

You let out a quiet sigh and pushed yourself to keep moving. You’d been here for hours. The sun was about to set… Catti was probably close to finishing her shift.

Lunch. You could at least get something to eat. Your feet turned away from the beach, carrying you toward QC’s Diner.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The familiar bell above the diner’s door chimed as you stepped inside.

Warm air wrapped around you almost immediately, carrying the smell of fries, coffee, and something sweet you couldn’t quite place.

QC stood behind the counter, lazily wiping down a mug while chatting with a customer. Her co-worker, the lion in a dress, was taking the seahorse’s order, repeating everything he said slowly in case of a mix-up.

Catti was nowhere to be seen. You assumed she was either taking a bathroom break or in the kitchen getting something.

Near one of the booths, you spotted Jockington and Noelle already waiting. Jockington waved at you with the end of his tail while Noelle gestured for you to sit across from them.

You slid into the booth. “Hey, Noelle,” you greeted.

“Oh! Hey!” She smiled warmly. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to be stuck with Berdly,” she replied.

“Oh.” Noelle glanced toward the empty seat beside her. “Well, Berdly is currently busy being… beaten up by Temmie.”

You paused. “…What?”

Noelle gave a small shrug. “I don’t think you would want to know...”

“Probably for the best…”

“We already ordered,” Noelle changed the subject.

“Oh? Did you get me anything?”

“Oh, well…” Noelle began awkwardly. “Jockington wanted to get you a burger, but…”

“Bats are, carnivores. right?” Jockington interrupted with one of his infamous repeated questions. Noelle let out a quiet sigh, pressing a hand to her forehead. “No… we’re mostly herbivores,” you answered, completely unfazed. “then what are, the Fangs for?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“And don’t, bats drink blood?” Noelle visibly winced at the question, her expression twisting with mild disgust at the thought of such a bloody diet. “I tried telling him you mostly eat fruit,” she sighed. 

“I wanted to order you the Fruit Salad, but Jockington kept insisting you should have meat instead.” You smiled at her.

“Herbivores gotta look out for each other, right?” She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back a laugh. “But sorry we didn’t order you anything.” She looked at you again with an apologetic smile.

“O-oh, no worries. Catti already knows my order. She’ll get me my usual.” Right on cue, Catti appeared, carrying Jockington’s burger and fries, Noelle’s salad, and your fruit bowl.

Everyone thanked her. She simply stared in response. Her gaze lingered on Noelle for a moment before she looked down at her furry hands and sighed.

“Roots are showing.” She pointed to her cheek. “The dye.”

Only then did you notice it. Thin streaks of lavender peeked through the fading white around her fur. Even the purple streak in her hair had begun washing out.

“Oh, yeah… my dye this morning was also disappearing, but I re-dyed it.” You paused. “You got any more of your dye? Maybe I could help you dye your fur after your shift.”

She smiled at you gratefully, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “Ran out.”

“I think it, looks cool,” Jockington said. Catti stared at her hands, unconvinced. “Don’t worry, Catti,” Noelle said softly. “It doesn’t look bad!” She squeezed her eyes shut again and smiled innocently. Catti stared at her emotionlessly, lost in thought. “Um, Catti?” Noelle asked, concerned.

You could tell she was looking for a way to cheer her up. “How about I buy you some white dye?” Catti’s eyes widened. She muttered something about Noelle being the light to her dim, starry night.

You quietly ate your fruit bowl as you watched the scene unfold. It was a normal moment. Noelle was smiling, Jockington was rambling, and Catti was silently staring at the table. You were there with them.

That was enough even if you didn’t feel like you were physically here.  

“So. where did you, and Kris run off to?” Jockington asked, pulling you back from your thoughts, teasing you again about his inaccurate assumptions regarding your relationship with some of your acquaintances. “O-oh, yeah. You ran after Kris, didn’t you?” Noelle asked hesitantly. Catti simply stared at you. “You’ve, been flirting with. a lot of people lately,” Jockington teased. “You go. dawg!”

He paused.

“…or, bat in your case. haha!”

You felt your face heat up at the implication. You quickly shook your head.

“First of all, there's nothing between me and Kris, Berdly, Fuku Fire, or Shambling Mass…” You paused. “…or even fucking Catti’s dad.”

Noelle tried fighting back laughter, but tiny giggles escaped. Jockington roared in laughter at the last part before responding.

“You put him on, the ,hear me out, cake,” he argued.

“That was your ide—” You stopped yourself. You were just dragging this out. Catti looked slightly uncomfortable at the mention of her dad. “Anyways, I just asked Kris why they left class.” You answered shyly, anger still lingering in your tone, only partially telling them the truth about what had happened. Jockington chuckled at the whole situation, but Catti and Noelle remained quiet.

They exchanged glances before Catti finally opened her mouth. “Kris…” The goth stared right at you. “…They walk among the dark.” She vaguely explained, causing Noelle to look at her in confusion. “They haven’t been interacting much with anyone lately,” Noelle chimed in.

…

“Have any of you. even tried inviting Kris to, hang out?” Jockington pointed out, offering what seemed like the obvious solution. You shivered at the idea. No way you’ll interact with Kris after today. 

“Seriously. Kris is fine, You guys Just wait for them to approach you.” He chuckled as he took a big bite of his burger. Catti nodded in agreement. “Just always assumed they’d reach out first,” she reflected. But Noelle still seemed unconvinced. She looked down, seemingly upset about something.

“Just Invite them, to our hangout. dude,” Jockington suggested. “Sometimes you gotta take the risk, and take A big dunk.” Before anyone could respond to that weird advice, he held up his tail to stop us. “wait.” He said with a mouthful of fries. 

“I’ll plan something, with Kris later.” He said, swallowing down his food. “You two are close?” Asked Noelle, confused. 

“Nah’ but it’d, be pretty cool to get to know Catti’s, Evil childhood friend. haha!” he joked before adding, “I’ve, Always been. curious about Kris.”

The day went on like this. Noelle and Jockington talked about Hometown’s cross country team while you sat there, listening to them. It was peaceful, listening to them chat.

But your mind was somewhere else… still lingering on the possibility of Kris getting invited. You felt mundane about it, though some part of you felt like you should be anxious.

Whatever…

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It had been days since Jockington said he was going to plan a hangout with Kris. But you didn’t realise they had to ‘bond’ first. You just wish Jockington wasn’t the one that has to hang out with Kris every single day.

You didn’t know why that bothered you. Was Jockington right? He wasn’t stopping you from socialising. Should you just approach Kris and ask? But that hadn’t exactly worked out for you when you asked them to be your project partner.

So, instead, Jockington advised you to watch him try to bond with Kris, taking notes as you observed. His way of making friends.. wasn’t exactly what you expected. Well, he IS the most popular person in town, so who are you to judge?

“Hey. Kris, Wanna kick some balls?”

“I could use a. helping leg,” 

The next day:

“Hey. Kris, I found some guy’s, balls to kick.” 

“I could use one of, your Limbs.” 

The next day:

“Hey. Kris, wanna use me as a. hula hoop?”

The next day:

“Hey. Kris, wanna gain 5 Dollars?”

The next day: 

“Hey. Kris, wanna help me bury this. completely normal object?”

A suspiciously Snowy-shaped body bag was dragged behind the two of them afterward.

(No Snowy was harmed)

Over the next few days, you continued meeting Jockington at the diner, where you diligently observed his attempts to bond with Kris.

One afternoon, he sat across from you, suddenly looking unusually serious.

“so,” he said, leaning forward. “What did, you Learn?”

You silently handed him your notes.

                How to make friends 

Play sports

Ask to kick genitals together 

Become an item they’ll use for an activity 

Get rich

Bury classmates 

Simply stare at each other until someone leaves

Start a small, unlicensed business together

Build a pillow fort and defend it from  officer Undyne

Jockington took them and began reading through the pages, his eyes slowly widening as he went over your observations. “Ahh,” he murmured, nodding to himself. “memories.”

Staring longer at the notes, reminiscing about the days. “i BET, you Learned something from observing. right?” He asked but you just sank back down into your seat in shame. 

“Of course, you didn’t, learn anything. how could I, forget. ” he continued, handing the notes back. “You weren’t, there. With me, and Kris. on our adventures.”

You bit your bottom lip, you really hope he isn’t considering inviting you to one of those ‘adventures.’ You don’t want to kick someone’s balls..

“But don’t, worry,” Jockington reassured you. “i have A video.” You sighed in relief as he pulled out his phone.

“Kris took it.” You leaned closer to watch what was presented in that little tiny screen. “It’s me tricking Monster Kid into giving me five dollars.

(Animation by bb-panzu on youtube)

“EWWWW, JOCKINGTON!” you cried, laughing. “I DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT!” You faked a gag, earning a quick shush from QC behind the counter. You heard yourself whisper a soft apology, covering your mouth with your hand. Jockington simply laughed. “Five Dollars is, Five dollars.”

You rewatched the video again, this time watching Monster Kid’s reaction while covering the gross slop with your index finger. Tears began forming in your eyes. You hadn’t told them to, but they did anyway. You assumed it was from laughing. That would explain the heavy breathing as you tried to hold back your chuckles.

“Wait a minute…” You paused, looking closer at the background. “Isn’t that Kris sitting with Susie?” you asked, confused. “I thought you said they took the video?”

“Left their, phone to record. Susie pulled them to chat,” he explained.

“Did she hurt them?” You didn’t know why you asked.

“I tried to, see. But Susie took my hat…” The snake hissed.

“How dare she…” A third voice came from beside you. You yelped slightly in surprise. “I saw her… stealing lunch money from Kris,” Catti began. “Take Jockington’s hat…” She clenched her teeth, but quickly calmed down. “Don’t worry. I put a curse on her,” she reassured Jockington.

You bit the inside of your cheek, still staring at the video.

“Don’t worry, about. Kris,” you heard Jockington trying to comfort you. You looked up, puzzled. Why would he say that? You literally couldn’t give less of a fuck about Kris. “Don’t, give me. That look.” His face suddenly shifted into a teasing grin. “Your ‘partner’ didn’t, seem like they thought Susie wasn’t, targeting them like in dodgeball.” You stared at him, even more confused by that weird metaphor. “Otherwise. They would, dodge. If they. Felt targeted.”

You kinda got what he was trying to say. Kris did look oblivious to the whole thing, like they didn’t even realise Susie was bullying them. It reminded you of what Noelle had said yesterday…Or was that four days ago? Something about Susie sniffing Kris… Biting an apple… And snickeri—

Wait. Did he say partner?

“Partner?” Your focus snapped back to the reptile in front of you.

He chuckled. “They told me, about your secret.” They practically hummed the words directly into your face.

Your face went red. You felt your heartbeat quicken as you immediately covered your face in embarrassment. You just assumed that was what you should be feeling. The rest was just your body reacting.

“What did they say exactly?” As if she read your mind, Catti asked a question you wouldn’t dare ask anyone, especially Jockington.

“I just asked. what happened and, they answered me. honestly.” He simply said.

You heard yourself groan.

“your. secret Is safe with, us. Dude.” he reassured you, before immediately teasing you again. “it’s, okay to have the hots for, a human.”

You looked up from your hands. “Rich coming from you… you’re the one going on dates with them,” you shot back, trying to flip the table.

“Woah. There, Batty McBatface. I’m, not into hairless people.” He said with confidence.

“You’re hairless..”

“Nuh. uh. I’m, growing a Beard!”

….

“It’s true.. I’m working on a spell for him.” Catti confirmed.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The day Jockington finally asked Kris to hang out with you, Catti, and Noelle had arrived.

One question kept running through your mind… Who decided your house was the place to hang out?

“Kris likes dark stuff,” Catti reasoned. “Your house is dark.”

That’s how they convinced you, and honestly, fine. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy having your friends over at your house, but you did dislike how they always seemed to leave before the clock struck seven. You understood their reasoning, though. Kris probably wanted to see something new, and you couldn’t blame them. This town wasn’t exactly the most interesting place when you’d grown up here your entire life.

Plus.. great first impressions would get Kris to… To what? To forget about that weird day.

… You shook the thought away, your attention drifting toward the group walking ahead of you.

Jockington and Catti were walking alongside Kris, the two of them talking while Kris mostly listened. Jockington kept insisting on carrying the box Catti was holding, but she only smiled and told him he didn’t have to. Besides… he was probably going to drop it anyway.

Noelle walked beside you, quietly keeping pace. She seemed out of it. Distant, almost like her mind was somewhere else entirely.

You looked ahead at the three of them walking in front of you. You could feel your legs moving beneath you. Feel the cool breeze brushing against your fur. But it all felt strangely disconnected, as if you were inside a Tumblr post, reading everything happening from behind a monitor. Your fate out of your control.. Maybe Noelle felt like this right now, too.

Without saying anything, you felt your hand reach over and take her hand. Noelle stopped walking for a moment, as if you’d suddenly snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked down at your hands before smiling softly. Then, she squeezed your hand in return.

And the two of you continued walking together in comfortable silence.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You arrived at your house… You never planned to come home this early. But your parents wouldn’t bother you much if you had company. They’d especially welcome the mayor’s daughter.

You let out a sigh, pulling your hand away from Noelle’s as you walked up to your front door. You pulled out the spare house key you had and unlocked the door, pushing it open. You called out for your parents, saying you have company over. They just replied back with “have fun!” Before leaving you guys alone.

Everyone followed Catti upstairs and into your study room. It was probably her favourite place in your house. Well… maybe her second favourite. Her first was probably her own room.

The moment Catti stepped inside, she seemed to relax. The room was gloomy, dark, and gothic, with almost no bright colours anywhere. Heavy curtains blocked most of the sunlight from entering, leaving the room dim even during the day.

There were a few occult things scattered around the room, though none of it was particularly unusual to you. A couple of candles sat on the shelves, alongside jars of dried herbs, crystals, and a few little trinkets you’d collected over the years. There was a small tarot deck sitting beside your computer, and a couple of old books about astrology, folklore, and other occult subjects were mixed in with your regular books. Some of them had been gifts from Catti. Others had been handed down to you from your grandfather and great-grandfather, who apparently had their own interest in that sort of thing.

You didn’t really think much of it anymore. It was just… your stuff.

Your eyes traveled across the room, watching curiously for Kris’s reaction to your study room. Kris just stood in the doorway. Their eyes took in the room in front of them. You couldn’t tell what they were looking at, or what was going through their mind.

You wanted to know what they thought of you now that they’d seen how you practically lived. Did they think you were even weirder than they already did? Creepy, maybe? Strange? It wasn’t like there was anything particularly strange about your room. At least, not to you.

Their expression didn’t give you much to work with. Of course it didn’t. Kris rarely gave you much to work with.

You shifted awkwardly where you stood. “So…” you started, suddenly feeling the need to fill the silence. “What do you think?”

Kris looked at you. You immediately regretted asking. You didn’t know what kind of answer you were expecting. Maybe a simple ‘it’s nice’. Maybe something reassuring. Instead, Kris’ eyes wandered around the room again.

You felt your ears twitch. “…You can say it.”

Kris tilted their head. “Whatever you’re thinking.”

Still nothing. You sighed. “You’re making me nervous.” You accidentally blurted out.

That finally earned you a reaction. They just smirked..you felt your cheeks getting a bit warm. Were they fucking with you? But why?

“Huuh?” You surprised yourself.

Jockington, meanwhile, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He’d been in your study plenty of times before. He threw his limbless body onto the couch, making himself comfortable as he sprawled across it. “make yourselves, at home. Everyone,” he said, as if this were his own house.

But you just stared at Kris. That same smirk remained on their face, their eyes still fixed on yours. They made no attempt to break the eye contact, and neither did you.

You weren’t embarrassed. Not yet, at least. Instead, you found yourself searching their face for some kind of answer. Why weren’t they saying anything? Why were they looking at you like that? And, more importantly.. Did you actually fucking blush?

You didn’t feel anything. So why were you acting like this?

Your thoughts slowly began to fade into the background as you continued staring at them. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away. There was something about their eyes, something that kept pulling you in. It felt almost like gravity, as if your gaze had been caught in their orbit and you simply couldn’t escape it. You remembered hearing it before: the eyes were the gates to the soul. You never really understood what that was supposed to mean. Not until now.

Because as you stared into Kris’s eyes, you felt like you were looking past the person standing in front of you. You wondered if they could see right through you, too.

“…You’re staring.” Kris’s voice finally broke through your thoughts.

You quickly averted your eyes from them, noticing Catti and Noelle already digging through the goth’s box.

Fuck.. Should you just ignore them? That was probably the smart thing to do.

“Only because you started the staring contest.” But you heard yourself answer anyway, completely disobeying your own thoughts.

At least that was a good comeback. And it was true, too.

You heard Kris snicker under their breath as they finally moved past you, no longer giving you any attention. They made their way over to the couch and sat down across from Jockington as if nothing had happened.

You stood there for a moment. You felt your hand slowly rise to your cheek. Your fingertips brushed against the warmth there. You knew you were blushing…you could feel the heat beneath your fur.

But strangely… you didn’t feel anything about it. No embarrassment. No excitement. Nothing you could put a name to.

Your body seemed to understand something that you didn’t.

…

You heard your name being called. Still not entirely focused on the present, you mindlessly made your way toward the source of the voice.

Catti was talking to you about something, but you could only rely on your automatic responses to carry the conversation. And by that, you mean nodding along to almost everything she said.

You tried to listen. You really did. Unfortunately, your attention had become rather uncooperative. You continued staring at Catti as she spoke, though you weren’t really paying attention to what she was saying anymore.

Your mind was still stuck on Kris. Those red eyes. That smile. You didn’t understand why you kept thinking about it. You weren’t even looking at them anymore, yet somehow your thoughts kept drifting back.

You were so distracted that Kris’s voice nearly startled you.

“I don’t know how to put on makeup.”

You looked over at them. “Oh.”

Your eyes lingered on Kris for a moment as you thought about it. You suppose makeup would be much easier to apply to a human. There was no fur to work around, after all. You already knew how difficult it could be to apply makeup to yourself, especially when you had to worry about getting it evenly across your face. It would probably be a lot easier on a human.

A paw was resting on your shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed when she put it there.

“Uh…” You blinked, finally realising that you’d completely zoned out again.

Catti simply stared at you before handing you something.

You looked down. Makeup tools. You looked back up at her, confused, before examining the items in your hands. Your eyes caught the label. Human cosmetics.

“Where did you even get this?”

“You weren’t listening?” Catti simply said.

“…Sorry.”

Catti looked disappointed.. You think, it was hard to tell what was going on in her head sometimes.

“The fog always finds you.” She finally said something.

You didn’t mean to get distracted, but it was somehow really hard to stay focused. At least your friends didn’t give you a hard time about it. They were understanding.

You looked down at the makeup again, still confused about why she had something specifically made for humans.

Noelle finally spoke up. “You agreed to do Kris’s makeup and show them how to apply it themselves.”

You looked at her. Then at Kris. Then back down at the makeup in your hands.

“You said it was easier to apply on smooth skin than fur,” Noelle continued.

Right. You’d apparently agreed to that.

“…Oh.” You hoped that was the only thing you accidentally voiced your thoughts to.

“Yeah, I can probably do it.”

…

By the time you had everything sorted out, Catti and Noelle had already gone back to their tarot reading. Jockington, meanwhile, had decided that the best way to spend the afternoon was by taking a nap. You glanced over at him. Completely out. Typical.

Your attention returned to Kris, who was still waiting patiently for you to figure out what you were doing.

“Come on,” you said, gathering the makeup tools into your hands. “We should probably go somewhere with better lighting.”

You led Kris out of the study and toward your room, where you had a proper mirror and a dressing table to work with. It was quieter in there, too, which would hopefully make it easier to clear your head.

Once inside, you placed everything on your desk and pulled out your chair. Kris remained standing, watching you. You awkwardly gestured toward the chair, and they obliged.

You stared down at the makeup Catti had handed you, still wondering why she’d brought it along in the first place. She hadn’t even answered when you’d asked where she’d gotten it from. Curse your tendency to dissociate. Because now you actually had to do this.

You didn’t know much about this shit, but unlike the things you usually worked with, makeup was at least easy to remove. If you messed up, you could just wipe it off and try again. Probably.

You picked up one of the brushes, examining the bristles between your fingers. “So, what kind of makeup do you want?”

Kris shrugged, seeming to give the question some thought. “Something simple.”

“Simple how?”

They considered this for a moment, their gaze drifting towards the collection of makeup spread across the desk. “Maybe just something for my eyes. Nothing too dramatic.”

You nodded slowly, looking over the various eyeshadows and eyeliners you’d brought with you. “Okay, yeah… I can kinda see what I can work with.”

You shifted a little closer, tilting your head as you studied their face properly for the first time. Your fingers gently found Kris’s chin, guiding their face towards you until you could properly see them.

You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking for. You’d done makeup on yourself plenty of times, but figuring out what would suit someone else was different. There were little things you had to take into account, the shape of their eyes, the colour of their skin, the way certain shades might bring out their features.

Your gaze settled on their eyes. Something about them caught your attention.

“Something to bring out your pretty eyes,” you murmured.

You heard yourself say it before you could stop yourself. Apparently, your mouth had once again decided to operate without consulting you first.

Kris went still.

You realised what you’d said a second too late. Your own heart gave a strange little thump.

Their cheeks turned faintly pink, and their gaze immediately darted away from yours. They suddenly seemed very interested in the makeup scattered across the desk, picking up one of the brushes and turning it between their fingers despite having no apparent reason to do so.

You could still hear your heart thumbing against your chest. Then, because you apparently had no sense of self preservation, you found yourself looking at their eyes again. They really were a striking colour.

You quickly looked down at the makeup before you could say anything else. Your chest seemingly to finally quiet down and from the looks of it, Kris got over their blush quickly too as they cleared their throat.

“And maybe something for my lips?”

You pulled back slightly, your attention returning to them. “Lipstick?”

“Or whatever you think would look better.”

You studied their face again, this time with the excuse of trying to figure out what would actually suit them. You realised you were staring at their lips.

Kris apparently realised it too. Their hand immediately came up to cover their mouth, hiding both their lips and the returning blush that had spread further across their cheeks.

“What?” came the muffled question from behind their hand.

“Nothing.” You immediately looked back down at the makeup, suddenly finding the arrangement of brushes on the desk extremely fascinating. “I was just thinking about what to put on your lips.”

…

You’d seen Kris plenty of times before. You’d spent countless moments watching them in class simply to pass the time, letting your attention settle on them whenever you had nothing better to do. You’d even spent a good portion of today staring at them without much reason.

But this felt different. Maybe it was because you were looking at them from so close. Close enough to notice every little detail you’d never have been able to see from across a classroom. The faint texture of their skin, the shape of their eyelashes, the tiny imperfections that made their face look somehow more real than it ever had from a distance.

You remembered the time you’d actually searched online to find out whether human skin was supposed to be this soft. Now you know the answer.

Your fingers had brushed against Kris’s cheek earlier, and for some reason, you found yourself wondering what their hair felt like, too. You’d never really had a reason to touch it before. There had never been a need. But now the thought lingered.

You studied it in the mirror. Then, before you’d really decided to, your hand moved.

Kris’s eyes followed the movement, a question beginning to form in their expression as you stepped behind them for better access.

“Your hair,” you explained. You weren’t entirely sure why you felt the need to.

You gathered a small section between your fingers. Soft. Much softer than you’d expected. It was different from fur..

You ran your fingers through it once, slowly, and found yourself lingering for half a second longer than necessary. You caught a whiff of their hair, finally noticing the apple scent Noelle had mentioned.

And suddenly, you understood why it bothered Susie. It was bothering you, too.

But maybe you were only pretending to be bothered by it. There was no reason for it to bother you in the first place. Or maybe there was another feeling underneath it alone you couldn’t quite identify, no matter how hard you tried to understand why you were thinking about it so much.

Then you remembered you were supposed to be doing something other than standing behind Kris and admiring their hair.

In the mirror, one of Kris’s eyebrows had risen. Their cheeks were beginning to turn pink again.

You tried not to look at your own reflection, but that became rather difficult when your face appeared to be practically glowing red. Had you really looked like that this whole time? You hadn’t noticed.

Then again, your body had always been fond of doing things without consulting you first. Blushing was apparently just another one of those things you couldn’t control.

Your hand immediately retreated. “Hold on.”

You reached towards your desk and picked up a small black hair clip. Kris watched you with quiet curiosity.

“Your hair keeps falling forward,” you explained as you gathered a few loose strands away from their face. “It’ll get in the way.”

With a gentle click, the little black bat clip secured their hair away from their forehead. “There.”

Kris lifted a hand, their fingertips brushing over the tiny bat.

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. It suited them. You weren’t sure why that thought made your heart beat a little faster.

You pushed the thought aside. There were more important things to concentrate on. Like makeup.

You placed one hand beneath Kris’s chin and gently turned their face towards the light. Their eyes met yours through the mirror for a brief moment before you looked away, suddenly far too aware of the warmth beneath your fingers.

You picked up the eyeshadow brush with your other hand. “Okay,” you murmured. “Close your eyes.”

Kris did. And you leaned closer.

You’d seen Kris plenty of times before. But never like this. Not close enough to touch. Not close enough to notice how their eyelashes rested against their cheeks when their eyes were closed, or how their expression softened when they weren’t busy trying to look like they were paying attention to something.

Your hand moved carefully across their eyelid. You tried to focus on the makeup. You really did. But every now and then, your eyes drifted towards their lips.

You wondered, distantly, why your heart was beating so loudly. It wasn’t as though anything was happening. You were only doing their makeup. That was all.

And yet, when Kris opened their eyes again and looked up at you, you found yourself holding your breath. Their gaze met yours. Neither of you moved.

Then Kris smiled. Not the exaggerated kind you’d seen from Berdly, or the grin Jockington wore whenever he thought he’d figured something out. Just a small smile. Quiet. Almost shy.

Your heart gave another strange, uneven beat…

…

The atmosphere had grown quiet without either of you noticing when it happened. Neither of you had spoken for most of the time you’d been doing Kris’ makeup, and yet the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. It seemed to settle naturally between you, filling the small space where conversation might have been.

You worked slowly, beginning with the eyeshadow. You chose something soft, blending the colour carefully across their eyelids before adding a slightly darker shade towards the outer corner. Every so often, you’d pause to examine your work, your attention lingering on their face for longer than was strictly necessary before continuing.

After that came the eyeliner. You kept it subtle, drawing a faint line beneath their eyes rather than anything too dramatic. It suited them better that way…or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you leaned closer to make sure the line was even.

Kris remained remarkably still throughout the process, their eyes occasionally opening to follow your movements before closing again whenever you asked them to. You couldn’t help noticing how trusting that seemed. You barely knew each other. This was only your second real encounter, and yet here they were, sitting quietly while you held their face in your hands.

You moved on to their lips. You picked up the tint, applying only the faintest amount before carefully blending it across their lips.

You felt a shiver in your spine as you padded their soft lips with your index.. Fuck, it's soft..

And there it was again. That strange feeling.

It was funny, you thought, how your body seemed determined to contradict itself. Every instinct seemed to be telling you to leave. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar closeness, the tension you could feel building beneath your skin, the quiet awareness that you were sitting far too close to someone you barely knew.

And yet, as your fingers hovered near Kris’s lips, you found yourself wanting to move closer. Not away. Closer.

The thought made your heartbeat stumble. You didn’t understand it. You only knew that, for some reason, leaving suddenly seemed like the last thing you wanted to do.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You were finally done.

Kris looked at their reflection one last time before turning to you with a small smile. “I like it.” They gave you a small thumbs up, and you couldn’t help smiling back, quietly pleased that they’d actually enjoyed it.

Kris' eyes were still looking at their reflection, probably unrecognising themself now that they’re wearing make up. It wasn’t much, but no matter how little makeup you apply, you’d still end up looking unrecognisable.

“Catty bought them online because she thought it was cute.” They spoke softly, eyes still looking at the mirror. “She had no use for it so she gave it to Catti to give it to me instead.” They continued, now quietly sitting in your chair.

“Huh?” They finally looked at you, their eye makeup enchanting their ruby eyes. They look so..

“You asked why Catti had it.. but she didn’t answer” they explained, glancing back at the mirror.

“That explains a lot now…” You weren’t sure if that made any sense as a response, but you didn’t really know how else to respond to that.

….

You packed the makeup away before the two of you returned to the study room, where Jockington was already waiting with several boxes of takeout from ICE-E’s P”E”ZZA.

The girls and Jockington were already waiting for you, sitting together on the couch while four p”e”zza boxes sat unopened on the coffee table in front of them.

Catti glanced at Kris. “Your makeup looks good.”

Noelle smiled. “It really suits you!”

“Thanks,” Kris said simply.

Jockington leaned over to get a better look. “Dude. You look, fancy.”

Kris nodded, apparently accepting the compliment before moving to sit in the empty seat next to Noelle. You sat down next to Jockington, irritated that he might not have brought you vegetarian p”e”zza. 

“Did you seriously go out without asking what anyone wanted?” you asked. “Hey, I. know what, everyone likes,” Jockington said confidently. “No offence, Jockington but you don’t exactly get what I want most of the time.”

“Wait. Dude. Aren’t you a carnivore?” You sighed, burying your face in your wings as you heard yourself groan. “Don’t worry, I made sure to get us pineapple pizza!” Noelle reassured you.

You looked at her, smiling in relief. At least you had someone who cared about this. “You don’t eat meat?” Your attention shifted toward whoever had asked the question. You assumed it was Jockington, but surprisingly, it was Kris.

“Not a vampire bat… unfortunately,” you heard Catti answer for you. “Unfortunately!?”

Noelle and Jockington laughed, making Catti smile as she glanced toward Noelle. You found yourself laughing along with them. Kris picked up one of the drinks and took a sip. For some reason, that caught Jockington’s attention.

“Isn’t that Noelle’s drink?” he teased. Kris simply shrugged. “O-oh! It’s okay, I don’t mind!” Noelle quickly told them.

You glanced at the drink in Kris’s hand, then at Noelle. Something about the exchange left a strange feeling in your chest. You quickly looked away, pretending to be more interested in the p”e”zza boxes sitting on the table.

“Kris! Didn’t know you were so bold.” He praised them. “Not even I have the balls to do that… or uterus, whichever one is hardcore.”

Kris stopped drinking and just stared at Jockington in.. amusement? I mean he is funn-

“You know. probably uterus are, because balls shrinks in. winter while the, uterus bleeds.” He said, Catti lost in thought now.

You wanted to disappear, what the fuck does Jockington even mean by that. You glared at him, asking him to shut up. But he catches your glare and you can basically see a light bulb forming on top of his hat with one of his not so bright ideas.

“Oh. shit, Sorry didn’t, wanna talk about blood in. front of, a bat.” You slammed your head into the palms of your hands, already attempting to ignore him by hiding behind your wings again.

“Oh my god,” you heard Noelle mumble. “Jockington, why would you even say that?”

“What? I’m, just being considerate.”

“Uterus is more hardcore,” Catti said flatly, ignoring everyone else as she answered Jockington’s previous question.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to laugh awkwardly or feel embarrassed. You didn’t actually feel like doing either of those things. They just felt like things you should be doing. Maybe just… ignoring him would make you feel better.

“Kris. donate some, blood for your friend. poor thing, already fainted from the lack of a bat’s, healthy nutrition.” You let out a groan, followed by a fake sob of frustration. “Jockington!” Noelle scolded.

“What?”

“You’re making it worse!”

“I am?”

“Yes!”

You ruffled your own hair, trying to bury the embarrassment that was eating away at you. You peeked at Kris through one eye… only to see them quietly tug down the neckline of their sweater, exposing the side of their neck.

They didn’t say a word.

… You gulped. You quickly hid yourself again, pretending like you hadn’t seen that.

… Why would they even do that?

You could still feel your heartbeat thumping against your chest. You were pretty sure Noelle was saying something to Jockington, but you couldn’t make out the words anymore. Your brain had apparently decided that this was the thing worth focusing on.

…Jockington didn’t make the situation any better by calling your name and telling you to look at Kris.

You just shook your head. Nope. You weren’t looking.

The whole blood thing was… purely racially motivated. A stupid stereotype. Not every bat was a vampire bat. You didn’t even like the thought of drinking blood.

… So why were you suddenly so flustered?

“Don’t worry, Kris.” You heard the obnoxious snake speak up again. “I can sink my fangs into your flesh instead.”

You looked up just in time to see Jockington flashing his tiny fangs, while Kris instinctively covered their neck with their hand. He let out a laugh at their reaction. It was obvious they both knew he was only teasing.

You caught the faint smile tugging at Kris’ lips as they listened to him laugh.

…At least they weren’t seriously offering you their neck anymore..

So why can’t you stop staring at their neck?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

After that, everyone finally ate.

The p”e”zza boxes were opened, and the room quickly filled with the sounds of conversation. Jockington made some ridiculous comment that had Noelle laughing, while Catti replied with something dry. Before long, everyone was talking over one another, their voices blending together until you could barely make out what anyone was saying.

You didn’t really listen. You sat there with a slice of pineapple pizza in your hands, taking a bite whenever you remembered that you were supposed to be eating.

Your thoughts had wandered somewhere else. Daydreaming about… No. You couldn’t think about that. You weren’t thinking about anything.

Certainly not about the way Kris had looked earlier when you’d finished their makeup, or how you’d spent nearly the entire day with them. You weren’t thinking about how strange that was.

You’d always been familiar with Kris. It was difficult not to be. You’d seen them sitting in class, walking through the halls, wandering around town. You’d caught yourself staring at them more times than you could count, though you’d never really had a reason to speak to them. Not properly, anyway.

You liked to think the day you’d gone after them never happened. Today had been different.

Today, you’d actually spent time with them. You’d talked to them. You’d done their makeup. You’d even laughed with them.

You took another bite of your pizza when you realised you’d been staring off into space for far too long. You just hoped no one had noticed.

…

Sooner or later, the day came to an end.

Everyone began gathering their things, and you found yourself feeling strangely reluctant to watch them leave. You didn’t particularly want to be alone in this house again, so you asked if you could walk someone home.

Anyone, really. Jockington, apparently, had other ideas. “Why don’t, you walk Kris home?”

“Why?” You glared daggers at the snake, already feeling something unpleasant bubbling in your stomach. “They’re, your guest.” You opened your mouth to argue, but Jockington was already pointing towards the box sitting on the table.

“And, you can. carry that for them.”

“You’re a bitch.” You cursed softly under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. You didn’t want Catti catching you cussing at Jockington. She was one of his scary fans. “Thank. you.”

You sighed. There wasn’t much point in arguing with him.

“Fine.”

So, a little while later, you found yourself walking beside Kris, carrying the box of makeup supplies you’d used on them earlier that day.

Neither of you spoke for a while. It wasn’t uncomfortable. That was the strange part.

You’d expected it to be. You’d spent so long avoiding Kris that you’d assumed being alone with them would feel awkward, that you’d eventually run out of things to say or find yourself wishing someone else was there.

Instead, the silence simply followed the two of you down the road. Quiet. Ordinary.

You found yourself thinking about how funny that was. You’d spent years knowing of Kris without ever really knowing them.

That was mostly your fault. You’d always avoided them, for reasons that seemed much less important now than they had back then. Maybe if you’d actually tried getting to know them sooner, you’d feel more comfortable talking to them now, the way Catti and Noelle did.

Instead, you’d watched them from across classrooms and hallways, familiar with their face long before you’d ever become familiar with their voice.

And now you’d spent an entire day with them. It felt as though you’d somehow skipped a few steps.

Your mind drifted back to the games you’d played with them online. It seemed almost like yesterday that you’d been annoyed every time Kris suddenly disappeared whenever you joined, leaving you alone with Berdly.

You felt irritated just thinking about it, and before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth.

“Can I ask you something?” Kris didn’t look at you. Their gaze remained focused on the road ahead. You took their silence as a yes.

“Why did you always leave the game whenever you saw me online?” You heard yourself asking them. “And leave me with Berdly?”

A small snicker escaped Kris. They probably hadn’t expected you to ask that.

“Well, I was putting the responsibility of entertaining Berdly onto you so they wouldn’t bother me.”

“Oh, fuck you. I’m not playing anymore.”

Kris laughed at your comment. It was a nice sound.

You weren’t sure why you noticed that. You didn’t think much of it. Or perhaps you did. You’re just being dramatic. Those aren’t your real thoughts.

“Well,” Kris said, “you have to admit, he’s nicer when you’re alone with him.”

You looked up, trying to remember what Berdly had been like when the two of you played alone. You couldn’t remember much. You’d never really unmuted his mic long enough to notice.

“I can’t remember.”

“There has to be a reason you kept playing with him, right?” Kris said. “He wasn’t as annoying when you were alone with him.”

“Well, probably.” Maybe this time, you could actually try listening to Berdly. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. You weren’t sure. The thought felt distant almost as soon as it appeared, like it belonged to someone else.

The two of you fell into silence again, though your mind was more on Berdly now. You felt a little bad that you’d never really given him a chance. Annoying or not, he could be funny sometimes. Especially with an ego as enormous as his.

You’d just muted him, assuming he’d continue talking about how you were playing the game wrong or sharing strange fun facts about things you hadn’t asked about. He was an annoying bird. You were still glad Temmie had beaten his ass yesterday.

…

A week ago? You frowned. When was that?

You were sure it had happened the day Jockington said you liked Berdly. No… It was Tuesday. Wasn’t it?

You tried to remember, but the details seemed to slip further away the harder you reached for them. You remembered reading that on the board. You were almost sure of it.

“Does it hurt?” Kris’ voice suddenly pulled you back to reality.

You turned your head. “What hurts?”

Kris looked at you, their expression calm and curious. “When you bite into someone’s flesh.”

You stopped walking. “What?”

“You know. With your fangs.”

You stared at them. You must not have been hearing them properly. Why would they even ask that? Jockington must’ve influenced them a lot lately. They’d grown just as curious as that green snake, and you could only hope they wouldn’t become nearly as annoying when it came to questions like these.

“Yeah, probably.”

Kris continued walking for another step before realising you weren’t beside them anymore. They stopped in return and stayed put. Then turned around. They were standing there, looking at you.

“Is it okay if you try that on me?”

For some reason, you couldn’t immediately understand what they’d just asked. Then you did.

Your face became hot. “Oh.”

Your head turned away from them immediately, your gaze landing anywhere but on their face.

“Jockington was joking.” Your breath hitched. You didn’t understand the slight crack in your voice, either.

“I know.”

“I don’t actually drink blood,” you explained further, trying to look for all the possible answers that could make you understand what just happened. Maybe they’d misunderstood. You hadn’t really explained to them that you were a herbivore bat.

“I know.”

“I eat fruits,” you continued, as though this was somehow important. “I’m a fruit bat.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” They nodded.

If they knew all of that, then why were they asking you this weird question?

Thumb.

Thumb.

Thumb.

You turned to look at them, feeling the cold air cool your heated cheeks as your heart hammered in your throat, making it difficult to swallow.

They seemed completely unbothered.

Their hair danced in the wind, occasionally shifting to expose their beautiful red eyes, which almost seemed to glow beneath the dim starlight.

Thumb.

Thumb.

The makeup you’d spent so much time working on made them look a little edgier, fitting the strange atmosphere perfectly. The smoky eyeliner and eyeshadow accentuated the dark circles beneath their eyes, making them look almost intentional…

…like part of their aesthetic rather than something to hide.

Thumb.

Thumb.

Thumb.

There was warmth spreading across your face, and your heart was beating a little too quickly, but it didn’t quite feel as though the reaction belonged to you.

It was as though you were watching yourself from somewhere slightly to the side, observing the scene as if it were happening to somebody else.

But that didn’t stop your body from reacting.

“I’m just curious.” Kris finally spoke after a long silence. “Curious?” You repeated. “To see what it feels like to be bitten by a bat.”

Holy shit.

Your legs stumbled slightly beneath you. This still didn’t feel real.

You tightened your grip around the box in your arms, digging your nails into the cardboard as though you could somehow hold yourself together by force.

You’d never thought about biting Kris before today. You’d never admit when that had started, though. It wasn’t serious. It was only a thought, one you never actually wanted to live through. Before today, you’d thought about their neck, perhaps, in the same harmless way you might notice anyone’s neck.

But now…

A memory suddenly flashed through your mind. This whole atmosphere felt eerily familiar. It reminded you of the time you’d threatened Kris with biting them, only for them to stare at your fangs in awe. Was that the start of their morbid curiosity?

Kris was still waiting for an answer, tilting their head to the side as they stared back at you. They’d done that last time, too, when you’d followed them out of the classroom. Waiting for you to explain why you’d followed them.

That day… You got rejected, right?

It pissed you off more than you’d liked to admit. It had made you want to forget about that entire interaction with Kris, to bury it somewhere in the back of your mind and pretend it had never happened.

Maybe… You should reject them back. Yeah. You didn’t want to drink their gross blood anyway. Why would you even agree to bite them?

You stared at Kris. They were still waiting.

“…Okay.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Somehow, you ended up at the beach. You weren’t entirely sure how that happened.

One moment, you had been standing in the middle of the road, staring at Kris while they waited for your answer. The next, they had suggested going somewhere quieter, and somehow you’d followed them without questioning it.

Now, you stood beside them at the edge of the lake. The beach was almost completely empty at this hour. The sand stretched beneath your feet, cool and slightly damp from the water. The lake moved gently against the shore, each wave rolling forward before retreating again with a soft, rhythmic hush. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint rustling of trees as the wind passed through their leaves.

Everything felt strangely peaceful. Too peaceful.

You glanced at Kris, who stood beside you with their attention fixed on the dark water stretching out before them. The moonlight caught against the surface whenever the waves shifted, breaking into thin, trembling streaks of silver that disappeared almost as quickly as they formed.

You immediately looked away.

Why did you agree to this? Weren’t you going to reject them?

You had been so sure of it earlier. There was no reason for you to actually go through with this. You didn’t even like the taste of blood, and yet somehow, instead of telling Kris that you weren’t interested, you had followed them all the way here.

Now you were standing beside them at the edge of a lake, in the middle of the night, seriously considering biting them.

You glanced down at the sand beneath your shoes. What exactly was Kris hoping to gain from this, anyway? Why did they want you to bite them so badly?

You couldn’t make sense of it. You couldn’t make sense of Kris, either. They had always been difficult to read, but this was different. You couldn’t tell whether they were being serious, whether this was some strange joke you hadn’t understood, or whether there was an actual reason they had been so insistent about it.

And the more you thought about it, the less sense any of it made.

You didn’t understand them. You didn’t understand why they wanted this. And, if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you understood yourself, either.

Your thoughts kept circling back to the same questions, each one leading into another before you could find an answer. The longer you dwelled on them, the more tangled everything became, until you couldn’t even remember what had made you agree in the first place.

Maybe you should just leave. You could still do that.

You could turn around, tell Kris that you’d changed your mind, and walk back toward the road. You could pretend that none of this had ever happened and go home before you did something you would regret.

It would probably be the sensible thing to do.

So why hadn’t you moved?

Your heart continued beating loudly in your chest.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

You stood frozen under the weight of their gaze, the soft, repetitive lap of the lake’s water against the shore suddenly feeling like a distant murmur compared to the frantic cadence in your chest.

Kris didn't say a word. They just held your gaze, those newly emphasized eyes catching the dim moonlight in a way that made your throat feel dry. Slowly…deliberately..they reached up, hooked two fingers into the collar of their sweater, and pulled it aside once more, exposing the pale skin of their neck to the cool night air.

A silent invitation.

Your mind screamed at you to say something, to throw out a sarcastic joke, to drop the box of makeup and run back up the path toward town. You were supposed to reject them. You were supposed to be the one in control here.

Instead, your feet moved.

You took a single step closer, then another, until the space between you collapsed into almost nothing. You could feel the slight warmth radiating off them, cutting through the damp chill of the beach.

"Kris..." your voice was barely a whisper, slipping out before you could stop it.

They tilted their head back slightly, exposing their throat further, their eyes half closing as if waiting. There was no hesitation in them. No fear. Just that quiet, maddening trust you hadn't earned and didn't understand.

Your hands rose on their own, the makeup box falling onto the damp sand near your feet with a soft thud.

Your fangs felt heavy in your mouth. Your breath catching in your chest as the faint scent of apples drifted up to meet you.

You were right there. All you had to do was move forward.

So why was your whole body trembling?

Kris hadn’t said anything or moved any closer. They simply stood there, their attention fixed entirely on you. Their face was difficult to read in the dim light, offering no obvious smile or raised eyebrow to reveal what was going through their mind.

Their eyes, however, seemed more focused than before. Not intense. Not demanding. Just attentive…as though they were waiting to see what you would do next.

You couldn’t figure out what they were thinking.

The lake continued to lap quietly against the shore, and a cold gust of wind brushed against your face. Kris didn’t look away.

And suddenly, you wanted to be closer.

You didn’t know why. Maybe it was the darkness making the rest of the world feel impossibly far away, or the quiet fact that there was no one else here to interrupt. Or maybe it was simply because Kris was standing right in front of you, waiting.

Whatever the reason, the feeling remained…you wanted to close the distance between you.

You remembered earlier today. Jockington’s stupid joke. The way Kris had tugged at their neckline then, almost as if silently offering you their neck.

You swallowed, but your throat had gone completely dry.

Oh. They were actually serious.

The realisation left you frozen for a moment. Then you took a hesitant step closer. Kris didn’t move away.

Your heart gave a hard, painful thump. You took another step. Still, they didn’t retreat.

Your pulse was beating so loudly you were convinced Kris had to hear it. You wondered if they could see how nervous you were…if your hands twitching awkwardly at your sides gave you away, or if the thin membranes of your wings looked ridiculous tucked so tightly against your back to avoid brushing against them.

You stopped in front of them. Close. Much too close.

The space between you had disappeared so gradually that you hadn’t even realised how little remained until you were standing directly in front of them, feeling the undeniable heat radiating from their body despite the cold night air.

Your mind went completely blank. You slowly leaned forward.

You hesitated, fingers catching the fabric of Kris’ shirt near their shoulder. Just barely. You gave it a small, uncertain tug to test the waters, needing something, anything to anchor yourself to. Kris didn’t pull away. Your heart skipped.

You brought your mouth close to their neck, hovering just millimeters away from their skin, feeling the subtle hitch in Kris' breath as you did.

Soft. That was the first thing you noticed. Their skin was so soft and warm beneath your lips that, for a moment, you completely forgot what you were supposed to do next. Your throat felt impossibly dry. You couldn’t think straight anymore.

Normally, you could rely on autopilot. You could walk without planning where to put your feet, reach for something without focusing on your fingers, let familiar actions take over while your mind wandered elsewhere.

But there was no muscle memory for this. No instinct telling you what came next. No familiar rhythm to fall into.

So you lingered. Your fingers remained curled tightly into Kris’ shirt, your breath fanning hot against their skin, catching the sharp, sweet scent of apples cutting through the damp lake air. Carefully, you parted your lips and leaned in. Your teeth pressed gently against their neck.

You felt Kris shift slightly against you, letting out a sharp, shallow exhale. Their chin tilted up just a fraction more to give you better access, their hand reaching up blindly to catch the fabric of your shirt, holding on as if to ground themself, too.

The tiny movement made you freeze, painfully aware of how close you were and how little pressure you’d actually applied.

You weren't a vampire. You were a fruit bat, for fuck's sake. You ate fruit, not blood. So why did hovering over their pulse like this feel so dizzyingly natural?

Fuck it.

You clenched your jaw and bit down.

At least, you thought you did. You heard Kris let out a tiny grunt of surprise, only to immediately realise you hadn’t bitten nearly as hard as you’d intended. Your body simply refused to break their skin.

You tried again, applying a little more pressure, grinding your teeth gently against the warm curve of their neck.

Still nothing. Your body flat out refused, leaving you pressed flush against them, teeth resting harmlessly against their pounding pulse.

It was as though an invisible barrier stood between you and the act itself. You could think about hurting someone. You could imagine it, picture it in your mind without any trouble at all.

But actually following through? Your teeth barely managed to sink into the surface of their skin before your body instinctively pulled back.

Kris shifted against you, a quiet, muffled sound escaping them. You froze. You hadn’t even realised you’d been holding your breath until you suddenly blew it out. Your heart jumped right into your throat.

Was that...

You didn’t know, but heat immediately rushed to your face, burning bright beneath your fur. You looked at Kris. They weren’t looking back at you, their gaze had drifted somewhere past your shoulder, their face faintly flushed in the dim, silvery light. You couldn’t tell if it was from the cold wind off the lake.

Probably not.

You quickly looked away, stomach twisting. For a fraction of a second, you considered giving up entirely.

Then you tried again.

This time, you approached more carefully. Your lips found their neck once more, lingering against their warm skin as you gathered whatever courage you had left. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of their shirt, your wings drawing tightly to your sides as though your whole body were trying to shrink into itself.

Slowly, you opened your mouth. You attempted to bite them again, putting real force behind it this time. Your teeth pressed deep into their skin, your mouth closing carefully around the spot. You tried to hold the pressure, hoping that if you just committed, your body would finally follow through.

It didn’t. Instead, your teeth caught lightly against their neck in another hesitant nibble.

You adjusted instinctively, your lips brushing over the exact same spot as you tried once more. The bite remained soft, agonisingly gentle…more of a tentative press of fangs than anything that could ever leave a scar.

Kris shifted slightly against you. Just a small movement, their body squirming faintly against yours before freezing completely, as though they hadn’t meant to react at all.

Kris inhaled sharply.

Your eyes widened and you hesitated, suddenly hyperaware of the way both of your heartbeats seemed to intertwine in the quiet night air. There was something about the way they reacted that made your stomach coil into tight, dizzying knots. Even that tiny hitch in their breath sent a jolt straight down your spine. 

Those stupid butterflies were back. You had no idea what was happening to you.

Or to them. Still, you tried one last time.

You pressed your teeth against their skin again, your mouth moving with the hesitant rhythm of someone still trying to figure out how to do this right. You bit harder.

Kris shifted against you once more, and their arms suddenly shot up from where they had been awkwardly resting. Their hands landed squarely on either side of your hips, the movement so sudden and instinctual that you weren’t even sure they’d meant to do it.

This time, it was you who let out a sound. A small, embarrassed yelp of surprise.

You tensed at the sudden touch, your face burning, though you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the weight of their hands against your hips.

What was that? Were you too hard? Did you actually break skin?*

Panicking, instead of biting down again, you carefully ran your tongue over the spot where your teeth had been, checking to see if you’d left a mark or drawn blood.

Kris gasped out loud.

Your eyes went wide, and you jerked back, pulling away instantly.

Kris’ shoulders jolted, their body going completely stiff against your hands. Their eyes were wide, lips parted slightly, and their face was flushed a brilliant, unmistakable red in the moonlight.

“Your tongue.”

“What?”

The words caught you completely off guard. You looked at Kris, trying to figure out what they meant, until you noticed where their attention had settled. Your mouth. More specifically, your tongue.

Kris’ eyes were slightly wider than before, their gaze lingering with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

“It’s spiky…” You could hear the faint shake in their soft voice. For a second, you had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. Then it clicked.

Oh.

Your face instantly flushed bright, searing red.

“Oh—I’m sorry!” You started waving your hands around, gesturing wildly as you scrambled to explain yourself. The thin membranes of your wings shifted along your arms with every frantic movement, brushing against your sides as you struggled to find the words.

“I—um—sorry, I didn’t—well, I read about this before, actually, and I thought—” You stopped dead. You had no idea where that sentence was even heading. Kris continued to stare at you, their face still deeply flushed.

You cleared your throat, trying for damage control. “I mean—our tongues are different!” You pointed at your mouth, as though that somehow made your explanation sound coherent. “Mine has, um—” You hesitated.

“Papillae?” You had no clue if you’d even pronounced that right.

Kris’s eyebrows lifted slightly. You took the tiny twitch of their face as a green light to keep rambling.

“Like, they’re little… tiny things? They’re rough. Kind of like a cat’s tongue. They’re called… filiform papillae, I think? I read about it when I was—about you—I mean, humans have tiny, smooth ones.”

You were talking far too quickly now, words tumbling over one another in a desperate bid to sound scientific and reasonable. Your hands kept moving as if determined to explain the entire anatomy of your mouth on their own.

“So I thought maybe if I—because I didn’t know if you could actually feel the difference, and I wanted to see if I’d actually managed to—” Your mouth snapped shut.

Silence. Slowly, mortified, you lowered your hands.

Kris was still looking at you. You stared back, inhaling deeply through your nose in pure, unfiltered embarrassment, feeling the heat spread all the way to the tips of your ears.

“…Oh.” For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then Kris’s expression softened, just a fraction. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly. “Yeah.” Another heavy pause settled over the beach. You weren’t sure what else there was left to say after completely destroying the mood with a biology lesson.

“Interesting,” Kris offered quietly. “Very.” The answer came out almost like an automatic defense mechanism. You nodded again, pretending the two of you had just finished a totally normal, casual conversation.

Silence stretched out once more.

Slowly, you let your hands fall back to your sides. The membranes of your wings settled against your arms, though you still felt painfully restless, your fingers twitching as you tried to recover from the sheer cringe of it all.

You were still hyperaware of what had just happened. You had put your tongue directly against Kris’ neck, and then given them a completely unsolicited lecture on bat anatomy.

You wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

But as your panic finally began to recede, you noticed something else.

Kris was breathing differently. Not dramatically…just heavier, deeper than before.

You watched their chest rise beneath their clothes, then slowly fall again. Once. Twice.

You weren’t sure when you’d started paying such close attention to it.

Your gaze drifted back up to their face. The faint blush across their cheeks hadn't faded at all. You wondered if it was from the cool lake air.

Definitely not.

Your eyes dropped.

Kris’ gaze wasn't on your eyes anymore. It was fixed squarely on your lips.

Your heart stopped.

You stared at them for half a second longer before the reality of where they were looking caught up with you. Your heart stumbled, giving a hard, painful thud against your ribs.

You swallowed hard, slowly letting out the breath you hadn't realised you were holding.

Oh.

You immediately jerked your eyes away, looking anywhere else. The dark water, the damp sand, the treeline. You weren’t entirely sure what you were supposed to do with that information.

Your fingers curled awkwardly at your sides. Suddenly, you were painfully aware of every single part of yourself. The awkward position of your hands, the light weight of your wings resting along your arms, the scorching heat lingering in your cheeks.

And most of all, your mouth.

The exact same mouth that had just been pressed to Kris’ neck..and the one they were still staring at.

“Um…”

Your voice was barely a whisper. Kris’ eyes moved back to yours, holding your gaze in the dim, cool air. You hesitated, swallowing hard. “Do you… do you want me to try again?”

Kris didn’t answer immediately. They just looked up at you, the moonlight catching the dark lines of shadow around their eyes. “Want to try a different position?” they asked softly. Your stomach flipped. “Okay.”

You watched Kris lowering themself onto the sand, leaning back on their elbows with their legs stretched slightly out in front of them. The moonlight traced the edge of their frame, casting subtle shadows over their posture as they settled into the quiet stillness.

You hesitated…not just because of how close you were about to be, but because sitting down meant getting sand all over your clothes. You glanced down at yourself, already dreading your father noticing how filthy you’d gotten them. With a quiet sigh, you carefully lowered yourself onto the cool, damp shore, settling directly between Kris’ legs and shifting your weight closer.

“Can I… bite you here?” Your fingers lightly brushed the tender spot just beneath the angle of their jaw. Kris followed your touch with their senses before giving a small, subtle nod.

And then you found yourself staring down at them again. The silver moonlight rested so gently across their face, highlighting their features and catching in the dark, slightly messy smudge of their makeup. It wasn’t elaborate…just a little eyeliner and shadow….but it made their eyes seem impossibly deep. It made them look so much…

You didn’t even want to continue that thought, not that you know what you meant by that. Only that you couldn’t seem to look away, and that you might actually be the world’s greatest makeup artist. Beneath the dark sky, Kris was strangely, painfully beautiful…something you could have spent hours memorising if you weren't so hyper aware that they were watching you right back.

A small, impatient shift beneath you finally pulled you from your trance. Kris fidgeted slightly against the sand, their face growing noticeably warmer beneath your lingering gaze. Then, apparently tired of waiting, they reached up and gently pushed you forward by your shoulder.

“Kris!” you yelped in surprise.

You heard them mutter a brief, quiet apology..or maybe you just imagined it over the frantic thumping of their heartbeat pressed right against your chest. You wondered if they could hear yours, too.

Your focus snapped back to their neck. Right.

You placed one hand against their shoulder, gently pressing them further back into the side. Your other hand cupped their jaw, fingers settling carefully against the mandibular angle as you guided their head away to expose the curve of their throat.

You tilted your head and leaned in, though it was impossible to focus with their hand resting against your back, fingers softly creasing the fabric of your top.

“Don’t be shy,” Kris murmured.

Their soft voice wasn’t helping at all.. it only sent another swarm of butterflies fluttering through your stomach.

Your lips met the crook of Kris’ neck again, and you opened your mouth to attack. You sank your teeth against their skin, trying to force your fangs through, but they pressed uselessly against the surface. Frustration prickled through you. You shifted your jaw, trying from another angle, biting down harder…still nothing. The hand resting against your back suddenly snapped away.

Clap.

You glanced up. Kris had slapped their hand firmly over their mouth, eyes wide as they desperately tried to muffle whatever sound had almost escaped them. Their face was bright, burning red. You released them with a frustrated exhale, only to immediately pull that same spot back between your lips. Maybe this would work.

You sucked firmly, drawing their skin into your mouth and holding it there. Your fangs pressed against the small fold you’d pulled between your lips as you tried to bite down through it. Nothing…except for Kris’ left knee twitching in an anxious, sudden jerk.

You released it, then attacked again. Your teeth grazed over the flushed skin before you closed your jaw, trying to pierce through with sheer persistence. When that failed, you sucked at it again, pulling the tender skin gently into your mouth before releasing it and trying from another angle. Why wasn’t this working? You bit down again, pressing harder.

Kris squirmed beneath you, and you hesitated for a fraction of a second before focusing back on their neck. You deliberately avoided using your tongue, remembering how they’d reacted earlier…you were sure they hadn’t enjoyed that. So instead, you kept working the same spot with your teeth. You caught the skin, squeezed down, released, and caught it again, sucking at the sensitive patch between every attempt to draw it far enough for your fangs to sink in. Kris’ breathing grew heavy and uneven. They squirmed beneath you again, and your teeth immediately followed the movement, clamping down in response.

Kris’ hand flew back over their mouth, pressing down even harder. A soft, muffled sound vibrated beneath their palm…you couldn't tell if it was another apology or something else entirely, too consumed by your own failure. Despite explicitly warning yourself not to, your tongue betrayed you. It darted out, dragging over the exact, tender spot you’d been trying to pierce. 

Kris let out a loud, muffled groan.

Horror instantly cut through you. You jerked back, hastily putting distance between the two of you.

“I’m sorry!” You stared down at them, utterly mortified. “I—I really tried, I just—” Your words tumbled over each other in a panic. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I thought I could do it, but I just can’t. I can’t bite you.” Kris stared up at you, slowly pulling their hand away from their lips. A flicker of regret crossed their flushed features as they breathed heavily.

“I’m not—” You shook your head, the words catching in your throat. “No, there’s something stopping me. I don’t know what it is. I just—” Your voice cracked. Looking down at the sand, you forced the truth out. “I can’t hurt you.”

The confession hung heavily between you in the quiet night air. For a long, suffocating moment, Kris didn’t say a word. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

You looked up to find their face still flushed, their chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

“No, it’s not your fault,” Kris said softly. “I asked you to do it.”

“I know, but—” You cut yourself off as your eyes drifted down to their neck. You froze. Oh. Oh, shit. A distinct, dark mark had bloomed against their skin. You stared, your blood running ice cold. “Kris.”

They followed your panicked gaze, but before they could respond, you snapped your wings forward, completely hiding your burning face behind the dark membranes. 

“It’s fine—”

“No, it’s not!” You peeked out from behind your wings, eyes wide with pure panic. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to—I thought I was—” You gestured helplessly toward their neck. “I didn’t even realise I was doing that!” Kris glanced down at themself, then back at you. “You were trying to draw blood from my neck. A hickey is only the first step.” They tried to reassure you.

“And I didn’t—” They started but you quickly cut them off.

“No—it’s just—I’ve never done this before! I’m so stupid,” you gasped, words spilling out in a frantic blur. Staring at the mark on their neck, a wave of sickening remorse washed over you. “I don’t know why I ever agreed to hurt you.”

“It isn’t that bad...” Kris tried to comfort you, their voice gentle and calm despite their lingering blush. Unable to look at them for another second, you snapped your eyes away. You were never going to recover from this. Scrambling frantically to your feet, fighting back tears, you backed away. “I have to go—I can’t do this!”

You ignored Kris’ voice calling after you, hurrying off the sand and away from the shore. You ran, your heart hammering wildly against your ribs, not that it had slowed down once since Kris first asked for that insane favour. Why did you agree to this? And why on earth did Kris want you to hurt them in the first place?

By the time you reached your neighborhood, your pace finally slowed beneath the quiet night sky. Hands tucked deep into your pockets, you tried desperately to steady your breathing, but your thoughts were spinning out of control.

You kept replaying every single second. The quiet beach. The soft, ragged sound of Kris’ breath. The weight of their body beneath yours, their rapid heartbeat, the low hum of their voice, the way they’d looked at you under the moonlight...and then.. the hickey…

You buried your face in both hands as you walked, utterly mortified. You’d gone there intending to bite them, and somehow... you’d left a hickey on their neck instead. A quiet groan escaped you. You stopped in the middle of the empty street, staring up at the stars while your mind circled the exact same thought over and over.

You wondered if Kris was thinking about it, too. If they were lying in bed right now, staring at the ceiling and replaying every detail just like you were. Were they thinking about your lips? About their neck? About the heavy, unspoken silence between you? Your heart kicked into overdrive all over again. You frowned, pulling your hands from your face. You still didn't fully understand what any of this meant…not yet, at least. But somewhere deep in your chest, a quiet truth settled in..whatever had happened tonight wasn’t over.

You dreaded tomorrow.

Part 2

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I wanted to draw this. this one's for you tricky tony

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doesn’t this feel familiar