Work Header

Drabble Prompts

Chapter Text

shouma trying to get a cat to like him and huffing that he's a dog person anyway in the end” - @rrofb

There are a lot of stray cats around Shion Kiba’s apartment, Shouma is starting to notice. It’s only natural that he picks up on these kinds of details, since he spends so much time there – not in the apartment itself, of course, but the bushes across the road – and on more than a few occasions he’s seen Shion set out food for them. Giving away the scraps of what was already an undoubtedly unsatisfying meal. How sweet of him.

Naturally, Shouma knows he can do it better. With all the wealth of the Kiba empire behind him, he could get those cats the finest food money can buy. They’d flock to him instead, depriving Shion of their warmth and company, reminding him that his life is in shambles and there is nothing that Shouma Shinonome can’t take from him.

The next time one wanders near his hiding spot, he decides to try it out.

“Hey cutie,” he says to the small orange tabby, peeling open the salmon sandwich he’d brought for lunch, “you want some of this?”

He extends his hand, and the cat approaches slowly, cautiously. He reaches out a little more, nudging the fish under its nose, and it sniffs at it, pauses for a second, then–

“Time for dinner!” The cat’s ears prick up immediately at Shion’s voice. Damn it.

Shouma flinches, letting out a ‘tch’ of frustration, and the cat darts backward at the sudden movement, tail bristling. It scampers off across the road as he ducks hurriedly back into his bush.

“It’s fine,” he hisses after it. “Dogs are better anyway.”


zumizuma playing mario kart together lkklJLKFDSKLJ okay thats only partially a joke” - @tokohaanjou

“Come on,” Kazuma growls, exasperated, as Kazumi’s kart streaks across the finish line yet again. “This is the sixth time in a row. Let’s just play Mario Party instead.”

“Hey, don’t give up that easily,” Kazumi says softly, offering a smile.

“What’s the point? Even with all those blue shells, I still couldn’t beat you.”

With a huff, Kazuma turns away, tossing his controller onto the sofa – then freezes as he feels his big brother’s hand on his head, gently ruffling his hair. Something in him wants to pull away, to just get up and storm off, because this is stupid, and it’s not like he hasn’t already tried his best, Kazumi is just better than him, and he’s not going to win no matter how many blue shells the game gives him or how many self-imposed handicaps Kazumi puts on himself.

“It’s alright if you want to stop playing, but... just one more? Please, Maa-kun?” Kazumi asks, and his voice is so kind and soft and warm and fuck, Kazuma just can’t say no to him when he asks like that. “You were so close last time, after all.”

“Alright,” Kazuma concedes, with a grumble that’s only partially legitimate. “Just one more.”


shiranui right after diffriding trying to like. work out how to buy food. i just think it'd be funny” - @yamigedo

The hardest part of diffriding, it turns out, isn’t the process itself. It isn’t even trying to adjust to a new body and learning how to walk again without the weight of your tail and wings balancing you.

No, Shiranui thinks, as he tries unsuccessfully to swipe the small plastic card through the machine yet again. The hardest part of all this is attempting to navigate the inane intricacies of human society.

“U-umm,” the cashier says awkwardly, “you’ve got it the wrong way around. The–”

Shiranui glares at him, and the man shrinks back, face plastered with the same familiar look of fear that the dragon was used to seeing on his enemies before they died. Perhaps, even in human form, he retains some of the power of his evil eye after all.

“Th-the strip goes on this side,” the human stutters.

Furiously, Shiranui turns the card around, and this time the swipe is accompanied by a beep of success.

“At last,” he mutters as he gathers his purchases up. Humans just have to make everything they do so unnecessarily complicated, even trading currency and buying food. And this is the race that supposedly controls the destinies of him and his people?


“Thank.. thank you for shopping with us...” the cashier trails off as Shiranui stalks out, making a mental note to have someone else get the groceries next time.


ibuki trying to figure out what he wants to get mamoru for xmas and Having A Struggle” - @beastdeities

“I could get him a new jacket. His usual one was ruined in the attack on Dragon Empire.”

“That’s, uh–” Chrono hesitates. “Maybe that’s a bit morbid.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” Ibuki says flatly, not betraying his internal frustration. He’s never gotten a christmas gift for anyone before – he’s never had anyone that he wanted to give one to, not like this – and the process is proving a lot more difficult than he’d anticipated, even with the help of Chrono, who he’d turned to in desperation after being unable to come up with anything at all on his own. He doesn’t know what Mamoru wants, and it’s just going to be an insult if he gets something unfitting. It’d be like saying I don’t really know you at all.

“Well maybe,” Chrono suggests, after a moment, “if you really can’t think of anything, you can make him something. Like a meal. He’d like that, coming from you.”

There’s a long pause as Ibuki considers the idea. He usually eats prepackaged meals himself, but he can make some things – like toast. Or rice. Maybe pasta, although he tends to eat it on its own without sauce and – and entertaining the idea is a waste of time, he realises. He can feed himself decently enough, but he can’t cook. Not well enough to make a gift out of it.

“Hey... hey, it’s okay,” Chrono says, and Ibuki stiffens as he realises his face must have given something away. “I can help, if you want. I’ll find you a recipe... something good, but straightforward. All you’ll have to do is follow the instructions.”

Maybe Chrono is right, he thinks. Doing something for Mamoru that Ibuki wouldn’t do for himself, despite the difficulty, learning a new skill just for the sake of a gift – it’s a display of caring that doesn’t require him to awkwardly fumble around with words.

Slowly, he nods, and Chrono nods back.

“It doesn’t have to be a five-star meal. He’ll like it because it’s from you.”


Morfessa putting Luard on a leash ;) (it's to stop him from being an idiot. totally) (muzzle optional)” - @littlelinor

“Hold still.”

I’m trying, Luard wants to say, but from behind the muzzle the words only come out as a muffled, garbled mess. It’s hard not to squirm when she’s pulling his arms back like that, a magical force keeping his head and shoulders pressed to the bed as she fastens the restrains around his wrists.

“Still so noisy, even after you’re muzzled~” The restrains safely fixed, Morfessa’s weight leans over him, warm breath brushing at the back of his neck. He shivers. “Now be a good boy and Stay. Quiet.”

The last two words are punctuated by slaps to his rear, not enough to hurt, but hard enough to force out a huff of surprise. He can’t see it, but he can practically sense her smirk, and fights the urge to try and talk back. He’d promised her, before all this, that he was going to be good, and he intends to stick to his word.

“One last thing,” she murmurs, and her fingers slip teasingly around his neck, his whole body stiffening in response as her nails brush across his skin, pressing just a little too hard in the softest and most vulnerable places. He wants to cry. It’s so frustrating to not even be able to beg.

The collar slips around his neck, and before he even has time to adjust to the feel of the cool, smooth leather, he’s being pulled back, the magic around him dissipating as Morfessa heaves him to his feet.

“There you go,” she says with another smirk, one that he can see this time as she guides him around to face her, a finger hooked under his collar. Her other arm circles around his waist, and he lets out a muffled yelp in spite of himself as she leans in and plants a kiss on the muzzle, right over his lips.

There’s a strange clicking noise as she does, and as she pushes him back, he realises what it was.

“See, I knew you could be a good boy if you put your mind to it.” She tugs on the newly attached leash and Luard stumbles, awkwardly righting himself as her eyes run up and down his body, no doubt admiring her handiwork.

“Lets see if you can keep it up once my guests arrive.”

Chapter Text

Chrono + Kumi hanging out (and probably being mistaken for a couple)” - @littlelinor

“Here’s your coffee,” the waitress says cheerily, placing the cup down in front of Chrono. “I’ll be back with your girlfriend’s in just a minute.”

Cheeks prickling a little, he makes a strange, choked sound as she turns to leave. Sitting across from him, Kumi stifles a giggle. It’s not the first time someone’s made that kind of assumption when they’ve been out together, and, while he’s largely used to it by now, he’s still bothered on some level by the assumption that there could be no other reason why a boy might be in such a pink and frilly cafe.

“Why do they always think we’re a couple?” he mutters, swirling his coffee gently before sipping at it with an air of resignation. Surprisingly, it’s just the right amount of bitter, intense without being overwhelming. “Oh,” he adds, expression brightening, “this is good.”

“See, I told you,” Kumi says, “this place is great! And so stylish, too.”

Chrono mumbles in agreement, taking another sip.

“Actually,” she adds, slyly, “maybe I should bring Tokoha next time.”


aichi buys kai a kitten named dragonic overlord ?” - @voidelves

“So,” Aichi says, a little nervously, “are there any in particular that you like?”

Kai doesn’t say anything for a minute, instead staring silently at the row of cages.

“I get to choose,” he mumbles, quietly. Aichi isn’t sure if it’s a question or not.

Slowly, Kai steps forward, and Aichi, overcome with the feeling that he’d be interrupting something private and hallowed if he said anything, watches silently as his boyfriend stops in front of one of the cages, extending a hand to it. Kai waits, patient, and after a moment the kitten inside steps forward too, sniffing his fingers inquisitively.

It lets out a soft “mew”, and Kai smiles gently, almost imperceptibly.

“That one?” Aichi asks. Kai nods, stroking the kitten’s tiny ginger head through the bars with a single finger. It meows again, as if in agreement. “Okay, I’ll go get the shop assistant.”

About ten minutes later, the kitten is loaded, much to its dismay, into a carrier and secured in the back seat of Kai’s car. Kai insists on sitting next to it, leaving Aichi to be the one to drive them home, which he does happily. It’s honestly endearing how attached Kai is to his new friend already.

“Have you thought about names?” Aichi asks once they’re on the road.

There’s a long pause, the only sounds the quiet rumble of the car engine and the kitten scrabbling around in its container.

“Dragonic Overlord.” Kai says, eventually.

Aichi snorts in spite of himself. “Are – are you sure?”

“He’s orange.” Kai replies, flatly and with total conviction.

“A-alright, if you say so.” Aichi can’t help but smile. It’s unusual, certainly, but it’s so very Kai, in that way that he’s come to love, and he just can’t bring himself to disagree. “Dragonic Overlord The Kitten it is.”


i’m giving myself a prompt as well bc I Want To ok ibumamo cuddling but Ibuki Is A Deletor” - @cosmowreath

Ibuki doesn’t know how Mamoru can stand to touch him.

It can’t be comfortable, for one thing. This far into his transformation – if it can really be called that, because he’s not changing, not really, just reverting – he has practically no human flesh left, his skin essentially just bony carapace at this point, a row of spines protruding from his back between two sets of spindly, pointed spiderlike limbs. The way Mamoru has to hold him is so horribly careful, precisely positioned to avoid impaling himself, that it almost makes Ibuki feel sick.

Mamoru must feel the same, he thinks, having to pretend to enjoy this, having to stay purely to make Ibuki feel better. If only emotions would fall away from him the way all his other human traits had, then Mamoru wouldn’t be trapped by that kind of obligation, and Ibuki wouldn’t be trapped by guilt and confusion and – and want.

He avoids facing it, because it would mean admitting, in some kind of way, that he actually thinks himself worthy, but he doesn’t want Mamoru to leave. He wants to stay here, the two of them connected like this, his tail curled carefully around Mamoru’s waist as the other man’s hands find places to rest on his back, their chests pressed together so he can feel Mamoru’s warmth and breath and heartbeat – all the things he himself doesn’t have any more, never really had at all, his brain reminds him.

It all feels like such a charade.

It’s only a matter of time until Mamoru gives up on him.

Ibuki doesn’t know if he’s waiting in fear, or anticipation.