Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2025-07-04 05:08 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2025-07-04 05:08 pm
Entry tags:
Fanfiction: who you are and what you want (Deltarune, Kris/Noelle)
whooooo wants DISTRESSING SNOWGRAVE FANFICTION
For the moment, this fic is exclusively available on my blog! I'm holding off on posting this to AO3 until tomorrow, because a) AO3 is currently sorting out some bookmarking issues, and b) I suspect Americans are going to be Fourth of Julying instead of reading fanfiction. Consider this a sneak preview!
Title: who you are and what you want
Fandom: Deltarune
Rating: 14
Pairing: Kris/Noelle
Wordcount: 1,400
Summary: The soul can't take any action that hasn't crossed Kris's mind, apparently. So why does it keep treating Noelle like this?
Warnings: Spoilers for the Snowgrave route in Deltarune, up to chapter four. Intrusive thoughts. Deals heavily with consent issues, although there's no sexual contact in this fic.
The soul can’t act freely, Kris. You’ll still be in control.
At the time, when Kris was terrified of the prospect of giving up their body, the words had been a comfort. Thinking back to them now, they just make Kris want to throw up.
The soul can make choices in your body, but those choices are guided by your thoughts. It can’t take any action that hasn’t crossed your mind. You’ll keep your thoughts under control, and that’s how we’ll control the soul’s actions.
Noelle has ice magic here, in the Dark World. When Kris first learnt that, it seemed like such a natural, innocuous thought: it would be cool to see her use it.
Noelle is crying. There’s frost on the buildings around them; Darkners litter their path like ice sculptures. A cluster of mice are struggling to escape into their frozen-over mousehole, squeaking frantically.
Kris has never been great at offering comfort, but they want to try, at least.
“IceShock,” they say, instead. “Again.”
-
Noelle is silent as they walk through the city. Eyes cast down, arms wrapped around herself. Kris wants to look away, but the soul keeps their eyes on her.
It’s not the first time they’ve scared Noelle, upset her. This isn’t that different, is it?
It’s not something unforgivable, scaring a friend. And they’re not really making her hurt anyone. The Darkners were never alive to begin with; they’re just objects, data, thrown into a different form by the shadows.
It’s just a prank. If they manage to convince themselves of that, maybe they won’t have to live with this sick feeling in their gut.
But they know, now, what they’re capable of. What they’re capable of making Noelle do. How do they keep those thoughts out of their head, that possibility, whether they want it or not?
Kris is supposed to be the one in control; their thoughts shape what the soul does. But, now that they’ve started down this path, how do they stop? The brakes have come off; there’s no way to avoid thinking we don’t have to do this puzzle, or we could get that ring for nothing, or—
Kris rounds a corner, sees bright armour and blue feathers, and the thought is as instant and devastating as lightning: We could kill Berdly.
-
After the service, Noelle asks Kris to come to her house.
No, Kris thinks. Say no. Refuse. Walk away. Hurt her if you have to. I mean—
Their heart rate had already picked up, just from being in the same room as Noelle, but somehow it gets even faster.
Hurt her by refusing, I mean. Turn her down, even if it upsets her. Don’t—
No; they can’t let themselves think of what else hurt her could mean. But how do they block that out?
There’s no keeping their thoughts under control now. It’s gone too far; Kris is a prisoner of their own terror. The moment they see Noelle, their mind is full of all the horrible things they could do to her.
Every one of those thoughts is a choice the soul could make.
“I’ll come over,” the soul promises in Kris’s voice. Because of course Kris can’t keep that possibility out of their mind, either.
-
Kris thinks, for a moment, that it might be okay. They managed to tear the soul out; they’re alone with Noelle. It’s safe for now.
If Noelle can truly be safe, alone with Kris, after all the vile thoughts they’ve had about her.
Why is it just Noelle? Why is it only Noelle they’ve been treating like this? Is there something about her that leads Kris to fantasise about hurting her; is there something wrong with Kris? Kris’s thoughts have been guiding the soul’s actions, and those actions are destroying her.
This isn’t what Kris wants; they’ve been telling themselves that, over and over again. They don’t want this. They can’t—
The soul is here.
It’s just a sense of motion, a flash of red at the corner of Kris’s eye, and then the soul is settling back into Kris’s chest like that’s where it’s always belonged. Here. Alone with Noelle, in her bedroom.
It knows – it must have heard—
It knows Kris has the ring, and the thought has barely crossed Kris’s mind before their own hand is delving into their pocket. The thorn is sharp against their fingers; Kris finds themselves turning it over in their hand, idly, like it’s a toy rather than a weapon.
It would destroy Noelle if they forced it into her finger again.
Don’t think that. Unthink it.
You could have thrown the ring away, a voice says in Kris’s head. It doesn’t sound malicious; it sounds thoughtful.
Leave her alone, Kris begs.
You could have thrown it away. But you didn’t. You brought it here. That’s interesting, isn’t it?
Is the soul speaking directly to them? Are these Kris’s own thoughts, on some level?
Is there a difference, really? It’s Kris’s thoughts that keep hurting Noelle; the soul is just their channel.
“Kris?” Noelle asks. “You’ve, um, you’ve been quiet. I mean, you’re always quiet, but... are you okay?”
She’s so close. Kris wants to yell at her to run.
Kris takes their hand out of their pocket. Leaving the thorn there. Is the soul just taunting Kris, lulling them into a false sense of security before forcing the ring on Noelle; is it planning something worse?
How does it work? Is there just a list of Kris’s thoughts somewhere, for the soul to choose from at its leisure? Stab the thorn into her finger. Choke her. Tell her it was all real. Tell her Susie will never love her. Slam her head in the wardrobe door. Don’t do any of that, don’t do any of that, apologise, leave, cry, beg for her forgiveness, never see her again. Rip the cute holly brooch off her cute Christmas sweater and drive the pin through her eye.
Kris kisses her.
No. This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening.
Fuck, they knew this could happen. They said such strange, possessive things to her in the Dark World.
(Every one of them had crossed Kris’s mind first.)
This is what Kris has been most terrified of, that they might end up exploiting Noelle like this. Might get bored of forcing her into violence, start forcing her into sex. Their worst fear, their worst fear.
And it’s hard not to think about your worst fear.
But there’s—
It takes Kris a moment to register, to start thinking halfway clearly again.
There’s no violence to this kiss, nothing forceful. Kris’s hand is gentle in Noelle’s hair. To anyone else, this would look like a genuine moment between them.
Noelle is kissing back. The realisation is a jolt, electricity down Kris’s spine. Did she – does she want—?
She wouldn’t want Kris. This isn’t the Noelle they know. She’s been broken down by everything she’s gone through; she can’t be acting of her own volition here, any more than Kris is.
Any more than Kris is. As if it weren’t Kris’s own thoughts that put them here.
Somehow the soul has managed to slip through all the terrified images in Kris’s head, all the violence, all the coercion, and has picked out something real. A simple little daydream that, for a long time, Kris has been able to pretend they’ve never indulged in.
They hate every inch of their own body for enjoying this, or something close to it. The twist in their stomach, the ache in their chest. It hurts, but...
It’s not just pain. They almost wish they were hurting Noelle again; at least they knew how to feel about that.
The thought chills the blood in their veins.
Don’t think; don’t think. Just feel. Feeling is worse, but at least it’s safer.
It could be worse. Don’t let it be; focus on what’s happening now. The softness of Noelle’s hair, the rougher fur on her face, the... the quiet sounds in her throat, the...
“K-Kris?” Noelle pulls back a little. “Are you crying?”
Someone shakes Kris’s head for them. Gives her a smile.
But the tears are right there; Kris can feel them. She must be able to see them.
“Okay,” Noelle says. She sounds a little uncertain. But she smiles back.
Kris can’t bear to see her face.
They pull her into another kiss. In this moment, if someone asked them, they wouldn’t be able to say whether it’s their own action or the soul’s.
For the moment, this fic is exclusively available on my blog! I'm holding off on posting this to AO3 until tomorrow, because a) AO3 is currently sorting out some bookmarking issues, and b) I suspect Americans are going to be Fourth of Julying instead of reading fanfiction. Consider this a sneak preview!
Title: who you are and what you want
Fandom: Deltarune
Rating: 14
Pairing: Kris/Noelle
Wordcount: 1,400
Summary: The soul can't take any action that hasn't crossed Kris's mind, apparently. So why does it keep treating Noelle like this?
Warnings: Spoilers for the Snowgrave route in Deltarune, up to chapter four. Intrusive thoughts. Deals heavily with consent issues, although there's no sexual contact in this fic.
The soul can’t act freely, Kris. You’ll still be in control.
At the time, when Kris was terrified of the prospect of giving up their body, the words had been a comfort. Thinking back to them now, they just make Kris want to throw up.
The soul can make choices in your body, but those choices are guided by your thoughts. It can’t take any action that hasn’t crossed your mind. You’ll keep your thoughts under control, and that’s how we’ll control the soul’s actions.
Noelle has ice magic here, in the Dark World. When Kris first learnt that, it seemed like such a natural, innocuous thought: it would be cool to see her use it.
Noelle is crying. There’s frost on the buildings around them; Darkners litter their path like ice sculptures. A cluster of mice are struggling to escape into their frozen-over mousehole, squeaking frantically.
Kris has never been great at offering comfort, but they want to try, at least.
“IceShock,” they say, instead. “Again.”
Noelle is silent as they walk through the city. Eyes cast down, arms wrapped around herself. Kris wants to look away, but the soul keeps their eyes on her.
It’s not the first time they’ve scared Noelle, upset her. This isn’t that different, is it?
It’s not something unforgivable, scaring a friend. And they’re not really making her hurt anyone. The Darkners were never alive to begin with; they’re just objects, data, thrown into a different form by the shadows.
It’s just a prank. If they manage to convince themselves of that, maybe they won’t have to live with this sick feeling in their gut.
But they know, now, what they’re capable of. What they’re capable of making Noelle do. How do they keep those thoughts out of their head, that possibility, whether they want it or not?
Kris is supposed to be the one in control; their thoughts shape what the soul does. But, now that they’ve started down this path, how do they stop? The brakes have come off; there’s no way to avoid thinking we don’t have to do this puzzle, or we could get that ring for nothing, or—
Kris rounds a corner, sees bright armour and blue feathers, and the thought is as instant and devastating as lightning: We could kill Berdly.
After the service, Noelle asks Kris to come to her house.
No, Kris thinks. Say no. Refuse. Walk away. Hurt her if you have to. I mean—
Their heart rate had already picked up, just from being in the same room as Noelle, but somehow it gets even faster.
Hurt her by refusing, I mean. Turn her down, even if it upsets her. Don’t—
No; they can’t let themselves think of what else hurt her could mean. But how do they block that out?
There’s no keeping their thoughts under control now. It’s gone too far; Kris is a prisoner of their own terror. The moment they see Noelle, their mind is full of all the horrible things they could do to her.
Every one of those thoughts is a choice the soul could make.
“I’ll come over,” the soul promises in Kris’s voice. Because of course Kris can’t keep that possibility out of their mind, either.
Kris thinks, for a moment, that it might be okay. They managed to tear the soul out; they’re alone with Noelle. It’s safe for now.
If Noelle can truly be safe, alone with Kris, after all the vile thoughts they’ve had about her.
Why is it just Noelle? Why is it only Noelle they’ve been treating like this? Is there something about her that leads Kris to fantasise about hurting her; is there something wrong with Kris? Kris’s thoughts have been guiding the soul’s actions, and those actions are destroying her.
This isn’t what Kris wants; they’ve been telling themselves that, over and over again. They don’t want this. They can’t—
The soul is here.
It’s just a sense of motion, a flash of red at the corner of Kris’s eye, and then the soul is settling back into Kris’s chest like that’s where it’s always belonged. Here. Alone with Noelle, in her bedroom.
It knows – it must have heard—
It knows Kris has the ring, and the thought has barely crossed Kris’s mind before their own hand is delving into their pocket. The thorn is sharp against their fingers; Kris finds themselves turning it over in their hand, idly, like it’s a toy rather than a weapon.
It would destroy Noelle if they forced it into her finger again.
Don’t think that. Unthink it.
You could have thrown the ring away, a voice says in Kris’s head. It doesn’t sound malicious; it sounds thoughtful.
Leave her alone, Kris begs.
You could have thrown it away. But you didn’t. You brought it here. That’s interesting, isn’t it?
Is the soul speaking directly to them? Are these Kris’s own thoughts, on some level?
Is there a difference, really? It’s Kris’s thoughts that keep hurting Noelle; the soul is just their channel.
“Kris?” Noelle asks. “You’ve, um, you’ve been quiet. I mean, you’re always quiet, but... are you okay?”
She’s so close. Kris wants to yell at her to run.
Kris takes their hand out of their pocket. Leaving the thorn there. Is the soul just taunting Kris, lulling them into a false sense of security before forcing the ring on Noelle; is it planning something worse?
How does it work? Is there just a list of Kris’s thoughts somewhere, for the soul to choose from at its leisure? Stab the thorn into her finger. Choke her. Tell her it was all real. Tell her Susie will never love her. Slam her head in the wardrobe door. Don’t do any of that, don’t do any of that, apologise, leave, cry, beg for her forgiveness, never see her again. Rip the cute holly brooch off her cute Christmas sweater and drive the pin through her eye.
Kris kisses her.
No. This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening.
Fuck, they knew this could happen. They said such strange, possessive things to her in the Dark World.
(Every one of them had crossed Kris’s mind first.)
This is what Kris has been most terrified of, that they might end up exploiting Noelle like this. Might get bored of forcing her into violence, start forcing her into sex. Their worst fear, their worst fear.
And it’s hard not to think about your worst fear.
But there’s—
It takes Kris a moment to register, to start thinking halfway clearly again.
There’s no violence to this kiss, nothing forceful. Kris’s hand is gentle in Noelle’s hair. To anyone else, this would look like a genuine moment between them.
Noelle is kissing back. The realisation is a jolt, electricity down Kris’s spine. Did she – does she want—?
She wouldn’t want Kris. This isn’t the Noelle they know. She’s been broken down by everything she’s gone through; she can’t be acting of her own volition here, any more than Kris is.
Any more than Kris is. As if it weren’t Kris’s own thoughts that put them here.
Somehow the soul has managed to slip through all the terrified images in Kris’s head, all the violence, all the coercion, and has picked out something real. A simple little daydream that, for a long time, Kris has been able to pretend they’ve never indulged in.
They hate every inch of their own body for enjoying this, or something close to it. The twist in their stomach, the ache in their chest. It hurts, but...
It’s not just pain. They almost wish they were hurting Noelle again; at least they knew how to feel about that.
The thought chills the blood in their veins.
Don’t think; don’t think. Just feel. Feeling is worse, but at least it’s safer.
It could be worse. Don’t let it be; focus on what’s happening now. The softness of Noelle’s hair, the rougher fur on her face, the... the quiet sounds in her throat, the...
“K-Kris?” Noelle pulls back a little. “Are you crying?”
Someone shakes Kris’s head for them. Gives her a smile.
But the tears are right there; Kris can feel them. She must be able to see them.
“Okay,” Noelle says. She sounds a little uncertain. But she smiles back.
Kris can’t bear to see her face.
They pull her into another kiss. In this moment, if someone asked them, they wouldn’t be able to say whether it’s their own action or the soul’s.