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calxprince · 1 year ago

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❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF (5)

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# CHAPTER 5 : Someone He Loved Once

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# notes : a beefier chapter than last time to apologize for the long wait!!!! happy 20k words to lotlt ♡ ( 6025 words )

-: ✧ :-゜・． MASTERLIST <- click me!

It's impossible to pick yourself back up when everything good about your life revolved around him.

was it unhealthy? yes

but you can't help it.

TO SAY THAT THE JOURNEY WAS BORING WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT— it was uneventful, dare you even say completely and utterly mundane. The never-ending corridors of plain, jagged, gray stone walls surround you as the scenery remains unchanging despite the hundreds of miles you have trudged on.

It has come to the point that your mind has coiled in on itself, where the even the smallest sights of slightly damp walls— or quite even the appearance of moss on the walls was enough to keep you entertained. Any slight change in the rigid texture and cracks in the walls were enough to bring you slight joy. You have begun to stray a good distance away from the rest of the party, taking your time running your fingers on the walls.

Mostly because you didn’t want to be hit in the face with the fact that you are now considered an outsider in regards to their party— as well as be faced to face with a clear view of Kabru from behind, chatting away with Rin.

So instead, you sought after lonesome comfort in the grooves of the wall.

Those miniscule changes in the terrain were the only landmarks to signal that, hey! You’re not running around in circles chasing after your own tail.

You are immensely grateful that someone had taken the time to hack and slash through the overgrown, poisonous tentacles that littered the spiral staircase between the floors. Without their efforts, you wouldn't have ever dared to venture below your usual rounds.

And then there were the frogs.

The enormous, very big, and I mean, very big frogs that inhabited this area.

You couldn't help but shudder at the sheer image of their bulging eyes and the almost neon color of their skin. Why would you ever look at a frog that is basically neon orange and say— oh yeah! That’s perfectly fine to pass down here, with the orange frogs!

Shouldn’t it be basic knowledge at this point that the wilder, and more colorful something is, it’s most probably deadly?

Well, nothing about a dungeon is safe…

You find yourself torn between two intense emotions. On one hand, you want to shower the unknown adventurer who cleared the path with gratitude, for being the sole reason why you ever dared to venture down here. While on the other hand, there's a burning urge to skewer them with your staff and roast them over an open fire, cursing them for initiating this chaotic butterfly effect that led to your current situation.

It was driving you insane.

You start to wonder why you ever bothered to become an eager adventurer of the dungeon, taking on extreme life or death risks for the sake of a couple of gems and coins— and even possibly nothing but the sweet satisfaction of taking down a formidable foe.

However, that sweet, delicious taste of victory was not enough to bring food to the table.

Could it be worth the satisfaction that came from telling your tales to other adventurers, to earn their respect? Forget about it.

Because despite how gruesome, treacherous and relentless your stories of your adventures are; they will always just be, and forever will be, tales to them. It could possibly score you a couple hears from the wandering children, with their awe-struck gazes and wild imagination— accompanied by promises and wishes of ‘I want to be just like you one day!’ before getting ushered away by their parents.

The adults do try their best not to dampen their aspiring dreams, and childlike wonder but you could always tell their non-believing expressions.

However, the masses in hearing range of your tales tell a different story. They only bother to stifle a laugh using the palms of their hands, eagerly whispering to each other. Because, without proof of your vigilant victory; you are nothing but a made-up fool, full of nothing but tales pulled straight from your ass.

In short, you’re full of shit until you can prove it.

You would rather not drag an entire dragon corpse up to the surface, let alone its own skull. It’s too much labor, for a measly pat on the back.

A ‘Good Job!’ is not worth the possibility of you developing either a strain, scoliosis or carpal tunnel— or possibly even all three at once.

It was either, go big or go home.

Or die trying.

You sigh, softly shaking your head around like a tree wishing to drop the fruits of your worrying mind. Gaze drifting across to the rest of the party, who’s mundane conversations fall silent in your ears. You drag your feet reluctantly behind them, watching as your sluggish actions lead to a greater distance. Your usual skip, and pep to your step has long vanished— alongside the great desire for a fresh new adventure.

Your nails scratch at the rocky, rough walls. It left white, powdery streaks along the way. However, the sensation of the constant vibrations being sent through your fingertips quickly began to infuriate you.

You cringe at the feeling, quickly retracting your arm back to your sides— trying to shake off the icky feeling that floods though your skin.

Eerily slow footsteps trailed behind, accompanied by a low, guttural groan that seemed to vibrate through the air. You anxiously patted around your stomach, wondering if your gut was busy (and noisy) complaining. You haven’t necessarily stopped to eat for a good while, so it wasn’t that outrageous for it to suddenly grumble.

However, the sound was unsettling, and you clenched your teeth out of sheer embarrassment, eyes darting towards the rest of the party. They were still a decent distance away, so you crossed your fingers and swore on your heart, hoping they didn’t hear a thing.

Why was it so loud? It echoed, not feeling the typical shake and waver in your stomach as it continued. How long as it really been since you last ate? Minutes? Hours? Days?

Luckily, they all seemed completely unaffected by the sudden sound. It would’ve been shocking— and extremely embarrassing— if they heard your stomach from that far away.

Also, were your footsteps always that dense sounding? You halt for a second, looking below at your footwear— taking a few experimental taps on the floor, and possibly trying a couple of tap-dancing moves that you saw in front of a saloon once.

…

If you were the one up on that stage, you would’ve ended up walking away in shame while covered head to toe in tomatoes.

You stop before anyone ends up becoming the unfortunate fool who turns around and becomes the witness of your… undesirable dance moves. God, what would Kabru think if he saw you?

Disregard that. He’s already, and very unfortunately, been the unlucky witness to your dancing. Back when the music and gleeful chatter of the local festivals was just about enough to get you moving and knocking on his door—wearing your best, flowy attire for the occasion.

You dragged him out to the central area of the village, your hand clasped around his wrist, looking back occasionally to smile at him out of sheer excitement. The village square was alive with vibrant colors, the scent of blooming flowers mingling with the aroma of freshly baked goods. Lanterns hung overhead, casting a warm, golden glow on the cobblestone streets.

The music alone suddenly made you want to jump around with glee, stomping around with the little grace you had.

You couldn't ever forget his face when you first turned your head over your shoulder. You were too busy in your own little world when you tugged him away, but Kabru...

Oh, Kabru.

He was the most beautiful sight you have ever seen in your entire life.

Not even the greenest, vastest, and prettiest of valleys full of flowers for miles could rival his face in that moment. Everything stopped; it was as if time and space itself had unanimously agreed to pause for him and him only.

He looked at you, and only you. From his gaze alone, it spoke millions of words. It was a whole confession in itself.

His eyes were wide, mouth agape, his hair perfectly tussled by the wind, the sun shining bright into his eyes. His cheeks were flushed with a delicate blush, a stark contrast to the golden glow of the setting sun.

Kabru was like a painting brought to life; a piece of art that is timeless through decades, one that requires to preserved and passed down through generations— due to his beauty alone.

He was being tugged around by his heartstrings, twiddled with by your gentle fingers. His breath hitched with every step, his awe-stricken gaze never leaving your figure despite every stone or pebble he trips up on.

…

It served as a painful reminder that once in your life, Kabru loved you for you. For the sake of breathing the same air as you— for the sake of merely existing with you. No matter how rough around the edges you are, no matter who you were.

He still loved you once.

Even when you barely knew how to waltz, despite the sheer confidence you had at the beginning as you tugged him toward the heart of the village, joining the bustling crowd full of dancing townspeople.

Even when he had the whole dance engraved in his brain for all his life, he still offered a genuine smile to you as you tumbled and staggered around. His eyes would crinkle at the corners, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, as he watched you fumble with the steps.

Even when your disorganized feet ended up crushing his own under your shoes, or when you fell forward and crashed into his chest after another couple pushed you from behind—he still smiled. His hands, deliberate and gentle, would take yours and guide you through the dance. The warmth of his touch sent chills down your spine, steadying you, grounding you.

He chuckles as he twirls you around by your waist, watching as you struggle to keep up with the pace— but still catching you with his hand pressed into the dip of your back.

Kabru’s patience was infinite, his laughter a consistent cushion to your embarrassment. His presence alone was a comforting.

His eyes downturned, with a gentle and gleeful air to him. The scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh, cool evening air, which almost drove you insane. One that made you want to kiss him, over and over until his lips turn blue— dragging him by his cheeks towards you until you end up tumbling all over the floor.

Even when the world felt chaotic and your steps were unsure, Kabru’s love was a constant.

He accepted you, not just as his partner, not just as a friend— but accepted you as a person.

He found beauty in your flaws.

But only once.

For now, he has seen the ugly in your flaws.

And you have, too.

Due to you dwelling on your miserable daydreaming, you ended up taking slower and fewer steps than usual. The groans, the dense footsteps that stagger with each step— they don’t stop.

Instead they grow closer,

louder.

Until a pair of hands dig into your shoulders, or more so, whatever is left of its rotten, foul-smelling fingers. The stench surpassed any smell you had ever had the displeasure of smelling. The nails are unruly and unkempt, some already lost to the relentless rot, leaving behind raw, exposed patches of skin on the fingers. It made you gag, feeling it’s intense grip onto your shoulders.

You yelp, lunging forward as you frantically shrug off its deathly grip. Your feet stagger as you began falling forward— your hands catching the floor in front of you in a swift motion. Using your staff for support, you desperately push yourself back onto your feet, twisting your body to face the ghoul. You stagger, feeling yourself struggling to breathe.

The body it had inhabited was rotten beyond recognition, so decayed that it seemed on the verge of becoming a skeleton. The skin had peeled and melted away, revealing patches of bone beneath. You doubt that the corpse contained any vital organs anymore; it was just a miserable skeleton wrapped in whatever is left of its skin.

With enough fear and adrenaline to kill a man, you raise your staff just high enough to aim straight at its chest. Your grip is firm, though your mind is frazzled beyond measure. Your hands thrust the wooden staff forward, with enough force for it to push against its chest and scoot it backwards. It lets out a loud groan as you twist it deeper, the sound of fragile bones and skin being crushed beneath it.

With a quick blast from your staff, it separates the ghost from the unfortunate victim.

The force of the sudden attack was enough to send you flying, you may have overreacted a little. Using an attack meant for larger crowds of more, formidable foes.

Actually, you overreacted a lot.

It only set in fully once you saw yourself inches from the ground, feet set free in the air.

You hit the rough floor with a skidding thud, groaning as you watch the ghost dissipate into the air. The body it had previously possessed falls forward, with an echoing thud. You lie there for a moment, catching your breath, your heart still racing from the encounter.

Your face contorts into disgust as you stare at the dead body only inches away from your feet. You use your staff to gently push its face away from letting its empty eye sockets stare back at you, however you soon regret the decision.

The push resulted in a loud cracking noise, which made you wince and scoot away from your current position.

‘Did I end up breaking its neck…?!’ You panic internally.

“Are you okay?” A frantic shriek rips through the air, alongside the quick thud of footsteps that suddenly crowd around you. It was almost cartoonish, to say the least— like mice to a piece of cheese.

Except you’re the cheese that didn’t bother checking your surroundings, despite the obvious sound cues that there was something trailing behind you. You began skimming through the contents of your brain to look out for a good excuse as to why you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings.

When… That was basically your whole job and responsibility after you chose to stay a great distance behind the party.

“Yeah, just fine. I just got caught off guard, is all.” You try to cushion the throbbing pain in your spine and bottom with gentle laughter, waving your hand around in the air to swat away their worries. It didn’t help to ease their concerned expressions, instead worrying them even more as their frowns and confused faces worsen.

You didn’t bother dwelling on their general reaction, however…

You couldn’t get yourself to ignore the fact that Kabru was the first one to come running to you.

You couldn’t shake off the chill in your spine either, when he suddenly slowed down to trail behind the rest of the party before he could get too close.

‘Curse you, Kabru and your stupid mixed signals …!’

“That was definitely far from ‘just caught off guard,’ with that powerful of a blast, you could’ve ended up wiping out an entire army of ghouls...!” Rin gawks at your nonchalant behavior, overriding her usual scowl etched onto her face. Her eyebrows soften, turning upwards as she leaves her jaw wide open. She was genuinely concerned. Which honestly shocked you more than the ghoul did.

Maybe she should keep the scowl.

She is way too beautiful when she isn’t scowling.

“I do admit that I overreacted to the situation.” You flutter your eyes shut, chuckling. “But to be honest, I just got really shocked when it suddenly grabbed me.” Your gaze averts away from their prying eyes, your nails digging and scratching the soft skin in the nape of your neck.

You really, really wished that you hadn’t defended yourself in that moment. Instead, you wished that you had instead been killed by that same ghoul.

Just so you wouldn’t have to sit there pathetically as they all stared at your embarrassed misery. You understood their concern, but it honestly tore you into shreds as your whirring mind fed more and more degrading comments into your self-conscious.

And you hated it.

You hated every second of it.

It was no secret to you that you had always secretly wished to find yourself in this exact situation. The strange, deep warmth in your heart grew stronger when they gather around you. Their concerned gazes, the way their lips curved downwards in worry, and their comforting grasps that made your heart race. Alongside that one stare that pierced through you, reaching down to your very bones.

You once secretly yearned to be vulnerable in front of them, to finally command their undivided attention. It was a bittersweet wish that you, unfortunately, craved deeply during those lonely nights.

But once it finally happened to you, the feeling of déjà vu was sickening. It was bitter and distasteful, a moment that only filled you with raged as they all caught you red handed with your tail between your legs (and your unfortunately sore butt cheeks). It made you angry, and it makes you so much more frustrated not knowing why.

Could it have been the possibility of them doubting you?

Could it have been you interpreting their concern as them looking down on you?

Or could it all just have been the look on Kabru’s face?

This distant gaze, unreasonably unreadable and filled with stoic indifference— stayed monotone throughout the entire time. His lips pressed into a firm, unyielding line. His eyes half-lidded, unfocused as it represented his evident detachment as he stared down below to look at your form sprawled out on the cold floor. Though buried in the crowd of others, his presence lingering in the back, he still stood out the most.

With what little time you allotted for yourself to stare, you still found yourself digging around his cold expression— desperate to get a taste of, even a sliver of concern on his face.

…

And to your, fortunate?

…Unfortunate?

Let’s stick to unfortunate.

…

To your unfortunate dismay, you did.

The typical person would have never read through his stoic expression right in the moment, nor even put too much thought into his— currently irrelevant— presence.

But you?

Oh, you could see right through him. Beyond all his superficial 'people-pleaser, number one manipulation tactic' masks that he uses to puppet himself through and into people’s hearts, there was always a sliver of a crack that you could stare into.

That one figurativecrack you always seemed to be drawn to, one that dug in so deep that it leads straight into his heart and soul.

You can’t seem to stop yourself from diving back into old habits.

You found yourself lost in the maze of conflicting emotions swirling within the deep hue of his eyes. His intense, half-lidded eyes locked onto yours with an almost desperate focus— lost in time and in the deep sea of your own gaze.

His lips quivered but only slightly. One that made you think that he had the urge to speak out, to ask if you’re okay. But his voice falls silent by his tongue, full of words that never seem to dare go past his lips.

Kabru’s face, oh his face.

His eyes downturned and heavy with unspoken words, softened the moment you met his stare, creating an unspoken connection that lingered in the air between you.

It made you so irrationally angry.

It made you want to curse at the gods above for ever granting you the ability to connect with him more than anyone else would. The ability to read and break through his charades as the fool, and instead see him as himself.

It felt like a curse right in this moment.

But why?

Isn’t this what you had always wanted?

It was. It really was.

You hated that he still cared. You hated it so much. You hated it so much to the point that you wanted to kill him, to skin him— to gut him from the inside out. You wanted him to just explode right in that moment. The fact that he cared, and the fact that you’ll always and forever will know that he does.

...You hated how it made you feel.

You hated the sudden racing pace of your heartbeat, the way it rung in your ears like a distant drum. You hated the sudden numbness that possesses each nerve in your body, limb to limb. You hated the way your head spun, the way you couldn’t keep your eyes away from him.

You clench your teeth, lips sealed together to prevent yourself from baring them. Squeezing your eyes shut in desperation, opening them to keep your gaze locked onto anyone— anything but him.

Luckily, your eyes met with an outstretched palm— tearing your gaze away from the rigid floor, you found yourself looking into the concerned eyes of Holm.

His eyes were soft, reflecting a genuine worry that contrasted with the cold, unforgiving surroundings. You sighed, offering him a small, grateful smile before hesitantly placing your hand in his. With a firm tug, he helped you back onto your feet, his strength steadying you as you staggered back up.

As you dust yourself off free from any dirt, Holm provides you with a couple of pats in the dip of your back.

“But seriously though, how come you didn’t notice? If it was that close to you for it to be able to grab you, you should have heard it coming. I doubt it was that close in the first place …” Holm teases, shrugging his shoulders as he stares at you from the side. The rest of the party unanimously agree with his sentiment, suddenly growing more and more suspicious over your situation.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fumbling with the fabric of your shirt. “I was… lost in thought for a bit. I wasn’t paying too much attention to my surroundings, must be the fatigue getting to me.”

You look back down, flinching as your feet instinctively shuffle away from the lifeless body sprawled on the floor. The sight sends a shiver down your spine, an insatiable itch settling down your throat full of prickly unease. Goosebumps rise on your skin, the unsettling reality finally seeping into you. The body lies still and inanimate, haunting you.

“Is there any chance to… revive that guy?” Mickbell winces, taking a couple careful steps backwards. He accidentally backs up and into Kabru’s chest, who places his hands on his shoulders and gently redirects him.

"It's possible... but at this point, I doubt there's any hope for him. His bind to his soul is so weak, and his physical body is rotten beyond recognition. It would take a lot of calories and meat to basically rebuild all his missing parts, not to mention that he already feels hollow inside." You sigh, running your hand through the stray hairs that obscure your vision.

You use the butt of your staff to roll the corpse over to lay on its back, wincing at the thick ‘thump!’ sound that comes from the body. You deliberately pull back at the bottom of his shirt, rolling it upwards as the inner skeleton and ribs show itself to you. The organs are disgustingly missing.

"Putting him out of his misery is pointless since his soul will always stay trapped inside this dungeon. Taking him to the surface for a proper burial won't honor anything because we don't have anything to properly identify the body..." you mumble. You recall the pads of his fingertips, either completely lacking skin or scarred to the point of interfering with the fingerprints.

Mickbell shifts uneasily, rolling a pebble from beneath his boot. "So... we just leave him here then?" He grimaces, his expression worsening the longer he stares at the decaying body.

"Sounds like the best option. Though we should at least cast a ward on him, so he doesn't get possessed again by a ghost, and let's cast some on ourselves for protection," Kabru suddenly speaks up. His voice is calm but firm, acting as a beacon of hope to lift the spirits of his party members. It took every cell and atom in your body not to roll your eyes, hating how mature he has become in time.

Kabru suddenly turns his head to face Holm, eyes wide and expectant, the urgency evident in his gaze. His eyes dart back and forth between Holm and the body, as if silently pleading with the gnome to understand his wordless request. Kabru tilts his head subtly, giving a nudge in the direction of the corpse. It was obvious he didn’t want to ask you to place the charms, despite his endless knowledge of your capabilities.

However, Holm throws his hands in the air as he shrugs off the sudden implications. He plays it off, acting completely oblivious at his desperate pleas.

“What are you looking at me for?”

Kabru’s confident stance wavers, the corner of his eye twitches as he tries to redirect the situation into one he deems is correct. As he always did.

“Holm. Don’t you know how to…?” His voice is hesitant, almost mirroring a shaking fist as his soft voice tries to carry over the urgency and weight of the situation to Holm.

“Huh? No, absolutely not. I’m not at all knowledgeable about those kinds of spells. If I tried, I’d probably end up casting a spell that attracts spirits to the body instead of warding them away,” Holm comments with a nonchalant shrug, his tone casual and dismissive. He rides off Kabru’s growing frustration with amusement.

It was a priceless moment, and you couldn't help but chuckle as you watched Kabru struggle to maintain his composure. You could almost see the exasperation radiating off him, picturing him internally throwing his head back, hands pressed to his face, and groaning in sheer frustration. The contrast between Holm's relaxed attitude and Kabru's barely contained and growing irritation was comical.

“Aren’t you like, a gnome? You’re the second leading race in the growing studies of magic education.” Kabru barks back, his polite tone wavering under the frustration. He grits his teeth beneath his smile, as if by saying that— Holm would magically learn the spell for it with the snap of his fingers. Or a page from your old grimoire would fall out, and Holm would read it for the 10 seconds it would be on the floor— then learn it.

“Hey, just because I am gnome doesn’t mean I should know everything!” Holm rebuked, a soft pout spreading on his lips as he did. He spreads his palms out, arms pressed as he waves his hands in defense for his lack of knowledge in that area.

Kabru remains to smile, however it was quite obvious to everyone that it was fake. His technique at hiding his irritation was faltering the more he began desperate to turn this situation into a favorable one. You could sense the race to his impending defeat, just from the sight of his strained expression.

His neck crooked as he suddenly turns to Rin, almost as if he were on his knees as he looked at her with pleading eyes— a last minute attempt to spindle this situation back into the strings under his control. “How about you, Rin?”

Rin blushes, much to your dismay. Dismissively turning her face away from him, scowling as her gaze instead dives into the world of the mossy dungeon walls. In response, she tucks an arm under her chest— the other making itself busy as it twirls her long, jet-black hair.

“I’m only skilled at offensive magic. My healing is only as good as any beginner mage, just the basics.” She replied with a scoff, almost hinting that she wished she knew how— to be able to please Kabru and his desperate attempts to avoid you. If you were in her shoes in that moment, you would probably immediately fold and worship the ground he walks on.

Could you blame yourself for that though? As irritating his face could be, he looked so pathetic and desperate!

…

You cringe at your own thoughts.

“How about…” Kabru’s voice falters, his head snapping around in a frantic search. He locks eyes with Mickbell, then Kuro, and finally Daya, each of them turning their heads with a speed that seemed almost otherworldly. Daya crosses her arms in a firm ‘X’, her stance a clear, unspoken denial.

“Of course not,” Kabru mutters to himself, his frustration evident now. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed closed tightly as his eyebrows furrow, and lets out a long, exasperated sigh. His shoulders slump, and his hand rests on his hip as he begins to accept his defeat. It was clear now: there was no escape from you, and the weight of that realization settled heavily on him.

It all led back to you.

“C’mon! We finally got Y/N back in the party anyway, no need to worry about being harassed by ghouls. They know how to.” Mickbell threw his arms behind his back, walking up to Kabru to nudge him using his hip— trying to pull the male out of his defeated, slumped form.

“But...”

“No buts! The longer we take down here, the less time we have before another Ghoul pulls up on us!”

Kabru sighs. “Fine.”

His shoulders roll back into his typical confident stance, taking a deep breath for courage before finally looking back up at you. You’re dumbfounded, not thinking that the comedic scene would end up back into your hands like a… Game of ‘Hot Potato'.

You shuffle on your feet, feeling the sudden weight of responsibility on your shoulders. “So, Who’s first..?”

For some reason, the entire party (minus Rin, who seemed to have missed out on the memo) turns their heads toward Kabru in a perfectly choreographed movement. It was as if they had rehearsed this moment, their collective gaze ganging up on him on instinct.

Dare you even say, out of habit.

Rin, meanwhile, stands there looking dumbfounded, her eyes widening as she realizes she’s the only one still focused on you.

Kabru freezes, his face momentarily blank as he cushions his nervousness with a chuckle.

“No, no. I cannot…” he stammers, shaking his head vigorously in a futile attempt to dismiss the sudden peer pressure from his party members. His eyes dart around the hallway, searching desperately for an escape route.

“Daya! How about you? Ladies first!” Kabru exclaims, his voice dripping with desperation as he insists with a firm determination. He sprints behind the dwarven blonde, his hands gripping her shoulders. He shuffles her toward you, as if trying to nudge her into taking his place, his frantic actions seemingly feeding into Daya’s bemused expression.

“Don’t you al—” Daya starts, but is immediately silenced by his gloved hand. He laughs, trying to save himself by staring back into the other eyes of his teammates. Which, also made no impact as they all seemed to be unwilling.

Kabru groans internally, which he could curl up and die in that moment. Or, kill everyone and all possible witnesses to his vulnerable fear of interacting with you again.

Talking to you? Fine.

Looking at you? Fine.

You, touching him? He draws the line there.

But he can’t run away from the situation that he set up himself anymore. Instead he slumps his shoulders, dragging his feet as he makes his way in front of you. “Make it quick.” He whispers, aware of your tense shoulders.

You take a deep breath— your hands trembling slightly as you press your fingers against his forehead. The warmth of his skin contrasts sharply with the coldness of your touch, and you could feel him shiver beneath your palm. He squeezes his eyes shut, his hands clenching into tight fists as he tries to steady himself.

He could feel your breath on his face.

“Lifgant, Ardinbam” You mumble, feeling the soft tingle of mana flow through your veins and out your fingertips. To an outsider, it might seem like nothing is happening—no visible cues to indicate the spell's progress. Only the caster can truly understand what was going on, a magical sensation that could only ever be felt and remain unseen.

You hands lift off from the skin of his forehead, now instead firmly pressing up against his chest. Once you were sure that the blessing had been set in place properly, you gently halt the flow of mana, lifting your hands with a careful hesitation. Your fingertips graze over the worn leather of his chest plate, brushing lightly over his chest before withdrawing.

Your fingers curl back to your side, retreating from his chest with deliberate care. The subtle warmth of the magic lingers in the air, a faint, almost imperceptible residue of the spell’s power. As you let your hands fall, the delicate trace of magic remains, a barely-there whisper of the enchantment that has just been cast.

“All done,” you whisper, your voice breathless and soft. You take a step backward, your movement deliberate, allowing him the space he needs as you just partook in a… awfully weird and intimate moment with him.

Was it really though? You dare to question, but you can’t get yourself to ignore the roaring pang or desire that struck through your heart. Kabru hesitates in his movement, as if waiting for one last thing out of habit. You usually kissed him after. But, after keeping his stance and his eyes closed for a couple moments longer— he pulls away.

“Thank you,” Kabru slurred, his voice barely audible— it was gruff, as if all the saliva in his throat and mouth had dried up in that moment. He coughs, attempting to redo his comment to be able to say it smoothly in a second try.

“I mean, Thank you.” He echoes, meeting your gaze for a fleeting second before quickly turning away, retreating behind the others as if seeking refuge from the sudden vulnerability of the moment.

You extend a hand with a gentle wave, signaling for the next person in line to step forward. The gesture is both practical and reassuring, a silent invitation for them to come closer. Mickbell excitedly jumps up, almost completely compressing himself and scrunching his body mid-air— like a coiled spring. He almost stumbles over completely as he makes his way towards you, using his hand as a way to keep himself upright and avoid accidentally crashing into the floor.

The rest of the party, including you— chuckle at his eagerness to receive a simple blessing. The shared laughter lightens the mood, a welcome break from the tension. His eagerness, though a bit amusing, is endearing, and it brings a moment of relief to the group. You don’t ever wish to have it any other way.

Never in a million, no, a billion years.

It sparked a new happiness in your heart, a little hope that life may look better in the future. That maybe, just maybe— losing once is not the end of the world. Because in the long run, even the smallest of details (like Mickbell almost faceplanting into the floor, which you had to admit got a little chuckle out of you) would make you happy.

After all, simple joys in life can go a long way.

And maybe It was all you ever needed.

…

Though, It makes you begin to realize; this journey will take a lot longer than you thought it would.

What once was a ‘couple of days’ seemed to stretch out into weeks, and possibly for longer.

Though, it might not be as bad as you make it out to be.

A little hope wont hurt anybody.

.・。.・゜✭・ TAGLIST !

@sy1v30n @whatamidoing89 @meerpea @pop-ee104 @starriejin @valerayne @mshope16 @stefnarda @lovin-past @slightly-lonely-jonesy @auhokvam

and the lotlt spotify playlist!!!!! ♡ open to song suggestions ;p

#delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #dunmeshi x reader #kabru delicious in dungeon #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru dunmeshi #kabru dunmeshi x reader #kabru of utaya #kabru x reader #love or the lack thereof calxprince #Spotify

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calxprince · 1 year ago

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I can’t wait for more of the kabru x reader story chapter, you are so good at writing emotions!! thank you love

hi!!! thank you so much for the support !!!!!!!

｡･ﾟ･(ﾉД｀)･ﾟ･｡ i really love getting comments about the way i write emotions,,, it makes me super happy wahaha!! i definitely really try to capture the feeling!!!

it was definitely scary at first since i haven't posted any longfics since my (shivers) olden wattpad days, but your comments keep me going!!!

currently working on chapter 5, it will just take a bit longer since i'm busy with academic stuffs ♡ thank you all for being so patient and supportive, i promise kabru will be kissed eventually

#i am the biggest rambler ever i am so sorry chat #i love when people ramble under my fics because yes you understand and now we are interconnected

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calxprince · 1 year ago

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are u taking reqs in between the long fic?

hi! yes, i do take reqs still ^.^ ! any ramblings/headcanons and requests are welcome!

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calxprince · 1 year ago

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❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF (4)

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# CHAPTER 4 : Is it possible to hear your own heart physically break?

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# notes : definitely a beefy chapter! thank you all for your support so far! i love hearing your guy's thoughts ♡ ( 5023 words )

-: ✧ :-゜・． MASTERLIST <- click me!

You soon regret your decision once you're now fully aware of the fact that your ex is, quite literally, living and breathing in the same room as you.

And you kind of want to kill him.

Or kiss him, you're not sure.

HONESTLY? YOU’RE FUCKED — Your brain seemed to have successfully checked out from the chains of your mortal body, as if it has claimed that there is no longer room for it inside. Instead, your consciousness found a comfortable refuge in the sky as it nestles into the clouds.

It felt like watching yourself from a third person perspective, observing your limbs move smoothly yet having little to no conscious control over them. Even if you did try to gain control, your brain fogs over and sends over a strange feeling of suddenly transversing through the fabric of time and space itself.

Your arms sway lazily, fingers grasping at the rough texture of your leather bag — itching for something, anything to ground yourself back down. However, your senses grow distant, each texture, each sound and sight only felt like a faint whisper down your neck.

The quiet murmurs of the party around you only dissipate into unidentifiable chatter, urging you to turn around and finally face them. However, it felt as if gravity had taken you in as its number one enemy— and decided to glue you down in your position. Could it have been fear? The fear of the billions of possibilities of what might happen next.

Your feet shuffle aimlessly, eyes eerily locked onto the cracks of the dungeon wall. Yet your heartbeat thumps against your ribs, a sound like a quiet drum. A reminder that echoes from inside you; you are still in this reality. So you press a mindless yet firm palm towards your chest, feeling around as your chest rises in a deep inhale.

You shake your head a bit, squeezing your eyes shut — only to open them back up to the same concrete wall.

‘I’ve been facing the corner for too long… That’s… Embarrassing...!’

The sudden thought yanks back your consciousness, like a splash of ice cold water jolting you awake. Your spine snaps straight, shoulders pulling back as you pivot on your feet —spinning around just a little bit too quickly. You wobble, looking around at the party with a sheepish expression.

Everyone is currently pre-occupied, which provides a bit of comfort to your raging fear and nervousness that consistently gnaws against your confidence (which probably doesn’t exist at this point.) Your hands fiddle around with your wooden staff, arms wrapped around behind your back. Your fingertips run against the grooves and indents of its wooden material, feeling the mana flow through it like a gentle river.

Your hand grasps it down firmly, seeking refuge in its comforting familiarity and stability.

Though, right before your eyes could focus in on Kabru — Mickbell’s frustrated groan cuts through the silence, as he desperately scratches his scalp through his blonde hair. His foot impatiently stomps against the rocky floor, kicking against the dust and debris that roll under his boots. His outburst catches the attention of everyone currently present, but no one dares to utter a word just yet.

“Everything is complete, but our barley! Who steals just barley?!” He exclaimed, a certain roughness to his call. His gloved hands desperately shake his precious bag, turning it upside down and watching as his dungeon trinkets fall to the ground. It creates a sporadic shuffling sound, followed up by a series of metal clinks! And clangs! Along with the occasional muffled sound of piles of fabric and clothes softly thumping on the floor.

He desperately throws the empty leather bag onto the floor, in a fit of anger.

Despite the seriousness of the situation—being mugged of your food rations—you can't help but feel a warm, endearing sensation in your chest. His exasperation and the way he fusses over the scattered items make you smile. You glance at the objects strewn across the ground, skipping over the usual equipment he always carries...

Gold coins, dwarven artifacts, gears, a chipped beyond recognition jewel, darts that are most probably dipped in poison, and a… stray gold coin that seemed to pick itself off and crawl away?

Often, important and valuable items are given to Mickbell for his protection— he has a weird yet endearing habit of collecting and somewhat hoarding items from the dungeon, when it has the slightest chance of being valuable. In his words, “If it can be made use of, then use it.”

However, you never really hold him against it, or pin him for hoarding unnecessary items. Since about most of the time he can haggle quite a hefty price for even the most nonsensical items. Which always ends in a celebratory dinner, alongside frequent visits to their favorite tavern.

And getting black out drunk, off the rails and unaware of how much gold has been spent— piles and piles of empty shot glasses (curtesy of your drunken state ordering one right after the other.) It usually ends with Kabru and Kuro dragging the rest of the lot around, like heavy sacks of potatoes.

However, those moments are usually scarce and distant in between. You all were a severely unlucky bunch.

“Augh! This sucks! These thieves are insane…!” He groans, whining as he haphazardly cleans up the area— using his hands to scoop up the items and throwing them back into his backpack. His boots scuffed against the floor, dragging them around in an aggressively childish manner. He then proceeds to, somehow, defy the laws of gravity as he boosts himself up into the air— scrunching his body together as he jumped.

He clicks the clasp of his backpack closed, flinging the slightly deformed bag over his shoulder. The piles of messy clothes and trinkets create lumps in the leather, making you snicker slightly. With one last defeated sigh, Kabru finally decides to speak up.

“That seems to be the last of our food rations, it’s best to head back now. Let’s give up, and try again another day” Kabru smiles, a little bit too handsomely might you add. He comes in swiftly, approaching Mickbell from behind and clasping down on his shoulders. He soothes his worries by gently squeezing his hands on his shoulders, rhythmically massaging them. It looked like an all-mighty prince, coming down to soothe the worries of his people.

“Give up? You’re taking this failure a bit too lightly.” Rin adds on, her foreign voice giving you an aggressive whiplash. Her tone was gentle, and sweet like a bite of sweet cake. It was low, and you could sense the stern attitude through her lips— her words coming off cold, but you knew there was a certain fondness in those words.

“I can take failures lightly, but not the safety of our wellbeing’s. If we have no food rations, continuing onwards is basically walking straight into death’s hands.” Kabru scoffs back, a smirk tugging against his lips— his cheeks pulling upwards as his half-lidded gaze directs towards her. His words had a certain bounce to them, he’s being a tease. Their banter was something you couldn’t digest, as it was all too familiar.

You can’t hold him back anyways, but that all too nostalgic teasing tone made you want to pull his curls out— cluster by cluster using bare hands. Or you could possibly make him mute for all eternity, so he could never utter a word in that tone to anyone else but you. It was supposed to be a luxury for only you to enjoy, not anyone else.

His voice left a sweet taste in your mouth that quickly bubbled into something bitter and rotten. The blinding anger only fuels a fire in your heart, a deep desire to swiftly blast a heart shaped hole into his body out of sheer desperation. Or possibly even turn him into a frog, stripping him away of his handsome, princely face and toned body.

Jealousy is a fickle thing, like the devil on your shoulder that whispers horrible scenarios to fan the intrusive thoughts and the urge to act upon them.

But of course, morally speaking you can’t act upon these (As much as you want to do so.) And even if the feeling spreads as an irresistible itch that dances all around under your skin.

“If Kabru says we go up, then it’s definitely the best option for us all.” Daya mutters, smiling gently at the party around her. She stretches her arms out behind her back, fingers intertwined as she sighs at the sudden popping sound from her tired joints. Kuro, who had somehow appeared next to Mickbell’s side had barked in agreement.

The rest of the party nods in accordance, accepting their defeat once again with a collective sigh. Your gaze sweeps over their tired, crestfallen faces, which slowly starts to blur into a sweeter moment as you watch their confidence and general mood bounce right back.

It's bittersweet to you, but it soothes your troubled heart just a little.

You can’t hold back the melancholy smile that creeps up your face, watching as the distance between you and the fleeting party grows bit by bit.

Seeing your old friends safe and sound, despite the hardships, brings a sense of comfort.

However, their careful and deliberate attention to their general well-being and health was a sharp contrast to how you have treated yourself in the past years. Especially how Kabru and the rest were so quick to accept defeat, only to treat it as yet another small hiccup in their lives.

It serves as a bitter reminder that they were all doing just fine, without you. That they all have matured and become even closer with little to no difficulty, generally not affected by your disappearance in their lives.

They all have gone much farther in their lives, evident by their newer and higher-rarity equipment. Their uplifted mental, and well-established new outlook of life— like they were a breath of fresh air now. Something that you were all too adjusted to, yet still manages to prove to you that you cannot stay static as a person. They’ll always be susceptible to change and becoming a better person day by day.

But you are still forever in that same place since you left. Not someone better, not someone worse— but someone who has stayed unchanging and alone. Someone who clings onto the fragments of the past, relishing in the old familiar joy that they once had.

It makes you wonder if your existence had any valuable weight in their lives, and if you were even a memory that was worth remembering.

Was it admiration, or pure envy?

For them to bounce right back at the sudden face of failure, for them to treasure themselves over the slim, high-risk chances of success.

Maybe it was a sign from the dungeon, or even the mad mage himself. Could it have been that fate had deliberately given you the chance to see them once again, even in such a short and fleeting moment in time— to act as a wake-up call?

To slap your face with such vigor and intensity, which will sting for eons to come— to serve as a reminder that life will forever go on, with or without you. The friends and loved ones you once made will not stay hung up on you forever, sulking in the coldness of their rooms at the dead of night. They will move on one day, and that day may come sooner than it will for you.

No matter how heavy or light of an impact you were in their lives, they will always seek the light at the end of the tunnel.

Unlike you, the pathetic and miserable person who refuses to seek out the better side of things.

You, who instead relishes in the melancholy prison that holds your mind and body in confinement.

You, who would rather feel sorry for yourself— crying in the dead of night and desperately grasping the fleeting memories of the past.

You, who falls into the same dwelling hole again and again.

Addicted to the serene comfort of familiarity, as sadness is all you have ever known.

Instead, you sigh— keeping a bittersweet smile on your face as you turn away to start walking deeper into the dungeon. You knew your own rations wouldn’t last yet another floor, alongside the venture back up to the surface. Nor were you completely equipped with the correct gear, since you had never planned to even go that deep down in the dungeon.

You were just a stubborn idiot that was too bothered by the thought of going back up alongside them, just to trail behind like a lost puppy. Because, yeah, sacrificing your life instead of going out of your way of having to ask them if you could come with was a much better option.

You bite your tongue, seeking comfort in the pressure of your teeth sinking in, the sting hastily preventing you from calling them back. However, before you can turn your back on them, a soft voice cuts through the silence. It sent chills down your spine and dropped your heart straight to the lowest floor of the dungeon.

“Hey, where’s Y/N?” Holm questions, his voice laced with concern. His head begins to whip around, twisting and turning his body to catch sight of any sign of you. This cues the rest of the party to scan their surroundings, anxiously shifting their gaze from wall to wall— person to person before laying their eyes on your figure.

You had been staying in the same place as before, showing little to no signs of movement. Most of the party, notably Rin and Kuro tilt their heads in confusion. While the rest let out a deep sigh of relief, possibly thankful that you hadn’t been eaten by a merman in complete silence— or even kidnapped and dragged into the walls by a ghoul.

Nervous, your heart pounds against your chest, the rhythmic thudding echoing in your ears like a drum. A sheepish smile creeps across your face as you catch sight of their dumbfounded expressions, realizing you haven't moved an inch since they left.

Mickbell darts toward you with a sense of urgency, his footsteps quick and light, while the rest of the party trails behind (However, less enthusiastically.) He tugs on the fabric of your sleeve, his eyes wide and pleading as he looks up at you with a mix of desperation and hope.

“Where are you going?” He whines, almost angrily— in a borderline childish manner. Your gaze shifts around in avoidance, shuffling your feet as you let out a quiet chuckle. You shrink at the realization that all eyes are on you.

Even Kabru’s.

“Ah… I’m going to keep going deeper into the dungeon.” You awkwardly cushion your words with gentle laughter, the sound feeling forced and unnatural. Your arms feel unnatural as they stay still by your side, opting to scratch your cheek and sway around your staff using the other.

The sheer awkwardness of your current actions makes you want to leap into the nearest body of water and offer yourself to the mermen, sirens, and krakens lurking within.

“Going that deep into the dungeon, as a solo mage? Are you out of your mind?” Rin comments, her eyes set on you sternly. Her fingers messily intertwine in the strands of her hair, as she curls and spins it around. Her words were sharp and cut through you like a sharp blade through paper.

“You’re honestly lucky that you made it this far alone, but it’s not safe.” Holm adds on, stepping forward. His face etched with concern.

“You should know how dangerous it is! You should look out for yourself the same way you did for us!” Mickbell exclaims. The rest of the party unanimously hums in agreement, reflecting their collective concern over your well-being. Kabru was busy staring elsewhere, unsure if he was trying to ignore you or genuinely was more interested in the surrounding dungeon walls around you. Which was, quite possibly, both.

His eyes seemed to wander everywhere but near you. But the nervous and rhythmic tap of his boot hitting the floor, his fingers twitching and scratching at his collar, the sound of his cough before his hum of approval— it all leads you under the assumption that he was hiding his true feelings.

You’re not sure how to feel.

Happy, with your heart warm and swelling with love and care? Generally, upset and offended, as they assume that you are not fit for exploring alone?

You would have run straight to them, laughter bubbling from your lips, your hands ready to caress their heads and feel the warmth surge through your heart. However, your gaze locks onto Kabru, boring into him like bullets through cardboard.

Fear claws your insides, chopping you up like minced meat. Just the mere presence of Kabru right in front of you— the thought of having to spend possibly a week seeing him 24/7 was just enough to make you want to hurl. You would rather make a quick dash down, to wipe him away from your sight.

Your pride and ego battle within, both desperately urging you to convince them that you are a seasoned adventurer, fully capable of delving deeper into the dungeon. That you are not the same person you used to be— you’re stronger, more agile, stronger willed. Yet the words die down by your throat, as your tongue gets held down by your chattering teeth.

Your lips stagger and stutter, desperately trying to find the right words to say— to say something, anything!

“Aaah… It’s fine! I’ll just end up being a bother if I went along with you all.” Your smile comes out forced, jaw clenched and unsure. The sound of your voice manages to rope Kabru into looking back at you, underestimating the sudden flinch of his gaze as he ends up locking eyes with you.

He doesn’t bother wasting any time before looking away. It clenches at your heart painfully.

Is it possible to hear your heart physically breaking? Call in the scientists and researchers, because you just did.

“A bother? Nonsense! You’re coming with us, right this instant! Right, Kabru?” Holm shakes his head disapprovingly, his eyes slimming and glimmering with mischief. He turns his body towards Kabru, using his elbow to prod Kabru into agreeing.

…

Okay, maybe you aren’t currently the only stupidest person in the world.

You were very much high up on that chart, but only trailing behind in second place.

Kabru’s expression was unreadable now, however the sweat dripping from his forehead and the hand that won’t stop adjusting his collar, his suddenly slightly widened eyes— gave it all away. Maybe not to the rest of the party, but it was as clear as day to you.

And possibly, for once in the 5 years apart— you were completely sure that you and Kabru had one shared thought, in this very moment. Your intentions and feelings are in complete synch and in perfect unison.

‘I’m going to have to kill this guy and hide his body so well to make sure he is never found.’

It was a reach on your part. Imagining his voice synching in with yours and everything. But you like to have fun sometimes.

Kabru anxiously clears up his throat before speaking, his gaze flickering to you repeatedly.

“Yeah, its uh… Safer if you come along.”

The words that just came out of his mouth, might as well have sent you straight to the sun. Your jaw drops, remaining agape for a few seconds. Your mind lost a couple of screws and gears, with your gaze unwavering and locked onto his figure.

You’re not sure if you’re losing your shit now, and only imagining the faintest blush on his face. But it’s a good thing to hallucinate right now— as the view is currently making your heart pound. So, props to your imagination.

“YEAH! And let’s drink our failures away, just like old times!” Mickbell raises his fist in the air, impatiently tugging at your hand to close in the distance between you and the rest of the party. However, this time you began a steady pace alongside him. They all began turning their backs on you, beginning their journey back gleefully with you by their side. However, you keep your distance away from them at the far back.

The mention of alcohol makes you feel faint, as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth— feeling a strange thirst as the taste lingers on your taste buds. You haven’t had a drop of alcohol since that day.

Honestly, it would’ve been quite a help if you were able to drink all your sorrows away.

You were a huge drinker, and quitting cold turkey completely went crashing on you. If it wasn’t for your weird thing where you hold such high sentimental feelings for the most random places and objects, as well as your constantly empty pockets— you would’ve rather spent the rest of your days wallowing in that same tavern.

“Really? I… Don’t really have the budget right now to go out drinking.” You gently tug back your hand away from Mickbells, bringing it back to sway by your side instead. He didn’t seem to mind, putting his arms behind his head and walking off alongside the party.

“We’ll pay for it.” Kabru suddenly speaks up. The way he spoke made it obvious that he was rushing to make a comment before the perfect moment flew away. His voice quietly cracked in the beginning, almost choking the words out as he spoke. But he spared you no glance, keeping his back on you and his gaze set on the journey ahead.

It fed into that little hope you had in your heart.

But you also really wanted to knock his head onto the floor.

If he was that desperate to string you along with his party for a couple of days, then why didn’t he come running to your house begging you to come back when you left?

You grit your teeth, letting out a heavy exhale as you decided to hold onto that small hope instead of riding off your anger.

“Okay.” You sigh, letting a gentle smile spread through your face. You decide to entertain them and allow yourself to succumb to your gluttony for their company. Taking risks is stupid, but you would rather accept and see where life will take you— rather than end up regretting your decisions later.

I mean, how bad could it be?

“Do we even have the budget to go out?” Rin opposes, fingers never leaving her long jet-black hair as she walks. It made you ponder; do they actually have the budget? If they did, you’re starting to consider that you’ve finally found a stroke of luck.

Just about enough time to dissect Rin and Kabru’s current relationship, Kabru’s state after the breakup, catch up with old friends— AND, you finally get to drink to your hearts content!

“I have been saving up a secret stash of savings.” Kabru replies, patting down the side of his hips— pretending to pat down an imaginary sack of gold by his side to prove his point. This causes a couple of excited cheers and hollers to erupt from the party. Listening to the upbeat chatter from them, makes your smile widen even more. With how casual Kabru seemed to talk and address them, seeing how close-knit they all are now; it made you feel as if everything was going to be alright.

With a sudden pep to your step, you catch up with them eagerly from behind.

The walk towards the next floor was boring, to say the least. Though, you’re not one to really get upset over the looming silence— since you had gotten used to it over the years. But the stories of your adventures in your mind had only registered the interesting parts, completely blocking out all the mundane parts.

Even though you were currently treading on water, not even the tiny fishes wanted to entertain you. The process of getting the blessings onto the party was severely mundane, since your current party now possesses three magic users— making the process extremely fast.

Minus when you almost accidentally smacked Kuro across his furry face, as you watched Rin take her time casting the spell on Kabru. There weren’t really any romantic hints or teasing in the air, since they both remained professional and blank faced.

You’re just… A little butt hurt that he didn’t come to you.

There was a thick tension in the air, which you were convinced that only you and Kabru could sense (It was only between the two of you, unfortunately.) He kept his head held high, as he could feel you basically watching his every move— peeling his skin away in your mind and analyzing each move of his muscle, each beat of his racing heart. It was coming to the point that it had become a battle of pride.

Though, it came to a pitiful end as he glanced at you for a second as he turns his head to the side— side-eying you. To which, you react by averting your stare in defeat.

You need something else to distract yourself.

So, you instead decided to analyze their whole party set up— to fight against the boredom and the frightful echoes in your empty mind.

Your gaze starts from Kabru, who stands firm and confident at the front of the party. It made sense, as he was one of the main fighters of the team who was excellent at close range combat. He is also skilled at closing in long distances, with his agility and high awareness of his surroundings. However, as you inch your stare to your left— there stood Rin.

Rin stood proudly by his side, providing a gentle teasing punch towards his arm. Kabru chuckles slightly, while she remains a strict and stern expression. Though the slight pink in her face catches your eye as his melodic chuckle makes it through her ears, making your jaw clench and scrape your teeth against each other.

If she was so daring to walk front and center alongside Kabru, she was possibly more knowledgeable on offensive magic. Usually, mages tend to mingle around the middle or possibly near the rear end of the party, letting the other fighters do the work as they take care of their flank and other enemies out of reach due to their longer ranged attacks. Mages don’t have a good set of defenses, usually depending on their party members to manage closer ranged enemies— Mostly due to the time it requires to charge and chant spells, as well as the position and stance putting them in a vulnerable situation.

The only sensible reason for her to be so confident at the front, was for Kabru to basically solo the enemies nearby for the sake of her safety. Working side by side, taking care of each other’s backs.

But you don’t want to accept that fact. So, you’d rather decide that she’s just there for… Other plausible reasons that you cannot think of.

Mostly because that’s what you and Kabru used to be like.

It churns your gut around a bit.

You haven’t seen her in battle, aside from casting blessings here and there— so you’re unsure of her specialty. You take a mental note to analyze the spells she casts in battles, whenever you encounter a monster on the way.

Behind the two comes another pair.

‘What is this, a buddy system?’ You groan internally

Daya trails closely behind Kabru and Rin, possibly yet another backup fighter in the cause for dealing with close ranged enemies that could surround the mage. She’s very strong, and much like Kabru is skilled and powerful using melee weapons— overpowering enemies using one handed combat with skilled axe wielding. Though, she lags slightly behind Kabru himself in terms of agility.

Next to Daya, trailed Holm. You could consider them close, but not necessarily too close knit with each other. Daya had once told you that she tends to gravitate more towards Holm due to their closeness in age, however they came off more as just friends rather than close friends.

Holm is very passive in fights, so being in the middle provides him some protection from his front and his back— while also allowing him to swiftly run away and escape. If you had thought that it was only fight or flight, he has the third one: freeze. He gets easily overwhelmed in fast paced situations, which are, mostly but not exclusively, battles.

He does not wield any weapons on hand, nor has any base offensive magic for assisting in battle. However, he does carry his elemental familiars with him— named Marillier and Essiet (Which, you found cute how he had given them names. Or did the familiars actually have names before being bound to Holm?) So being in the middle of the party allows him both to release his familiars easily with protection and having the freedom to flee or freeze.

Mickbell typically lounges behind the party, since he isn’t equipped with the typical weapons— nor does he have any confidence in fighting head on. He’s cowardly, and often runs away during battles. Sometimes, he’d make use of his poison darts to assist in the long run. His heightened senses allow him to detect enemies from behind easier, preventing any possible flanks.

Lastly, Kuro stands side by side with Mickbell— serving as his personal bodyguard and guarantees Mickbell’s safety. His heightened smell and hearing also pairs hand in hand with the halfling. He is also skilled in close ranged combat, as a melee fighter that uses his sharp teeth and strong jaw to his advantage.

And… Then there’s you.

You feel somewhat uncomfortable now, seeing how they complete each other so perfectly. You feel like when you finally finish a puzzle, but then there’s a random spare piece that doesn’t fit anywhere.

But it’s okay, knowing that they all have each other’s backs. They don’t need you anymore, but their safety and happiness— is your happiness.

-: ✧ :-゜・． TAGLIST

@sy1v30n @whatamidoing89 @meerpea @pop-ee104 @starriejin @valerayne @mshope16 @stefnarda @lovin-past @slightly-lonely-jonesy @auhokvam

106 notes · View notes

calxprince · 1 year ago

Text

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF (3)

... a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# Chapter 3 : Do You Picture Me, Like I Picture You?

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# notes : click here for the masterlist

. . . How to not embarrass yourself in front of your ex 101 :

Do not do anything you just did in this chapter.

Or do, just continue with caution.

HIS VOICE WAS AS DANGEROUS WAS A SIRENS CALL—breathless, gruff, and oh so handsome. The sound of your name danced hot on his tongue, like an intoxicating melody that could turn heads from miles away.

Yet, his tone had betrayed him. His song of worship comes out distant, an echo from within the towering walls he had built around his heart.

There was a prickly, itchy uncertainty in his throat, a cough he couldn't quite scratch. Kabru called out your name like a song he once knew by heart but now struggled to recall—the lyrics stuttering on his lips, with the music moving on without him. His eyes, though guarded, flickered with a raw intensity and bewilderedness. His expression carved you inside and out, as if you had just been sliced open as he stared straight at your bare heart.

It was one word. He had only said one word, but his hoarse tone said thousands— while his face told millions. It felt as if you had dissected his brain from how well you knew him, but at this moment; you’re unsure if you are considered qualified for it anymore.

Do you still know him? Or do you only know him for who he was?

A painful pang of nostalgia comes in waves through you, you have been here once before. You were once in the same position you are now— back when seeing his face flush back to life brought relief, as if his very existence brought you warmth and satisfaction in your heart.

This same moment has happened time and time again, like a familiar routine that stank of déjà vu. Could you ever turn back to the way it used to be? To be intimate and have each rush of blood through your body, urge you down to your muscle and bone to beg and yearn to touch him?

You used to spiral into insanity, begging for an opportunity just to see him again. Although, it was an internal battle between your gut wrenching, nail-biting fears and the sheer desperation of proving yourself. To prove to him that you are doing good, hell— you wanted him to know that you were doing even better than he ever could.

You refuse to ever be seen as the one who crumbled after the relationship.

You refuse to be forgotten and looked down upon by him. You wanted that karma to hit him straight to rock bottom and make yourself feel good knowing that you have the best life now that he was out of it. You had to win and be the more successful and happier ex that came out of this relationship.

You wanted him to grow crazy as much as you did, for him to spiral into insanity from just the thought of you being happier without him. Scratch that, you wanted him to go insane just over the sheer thought of you. Ruin all of his favorite things as you were stain in his memories.

You wanted him to spend hundreds of his sleepless nights, curling up in the cold loneliness of his room— completely losing it after even catching a faint whiff of your perfume. Leave him wondering where it came from, have him stagger his gaze as he starts to believe that you had come back into his life— just to close his eyes in pure disappointment as he comes to the realization that you were never there, and the scent of you was only from his brain messing with him.

You wanted to drag him straight down to the fiery pits of hell, and chain him down with you.

But you’re not sure why you ever wanted that.

Was it because it was a threat to your ego? Was it out of insecurity? Was it because even after all this time, you refuse to back down and accept the possibility that you were the one wrong in that relationship? Or were you just a horrible person that wants him to suffer just because you don’t want him to have anything good when you’re not there anymore.

You don’t know.

You don’t know a lot of things. You just tend to cut yourself some slack (In truth, a lot of slack— even more than you even need.) knowing that this is your first attempt at life, and that it’s never going to be perfect. You’re human, and humans feel a wild array of emotions.

But what you do know, is that the façade you wanted to put on— was the complete opposite of the reality you were currently facing. You were miserable, so much so that you cried out his name like a desperate prayer that echoed straight from your heart.

So much so that you would grasp onto whatever you had left of him.

His shirts, his letters, and his cologne that he had deliberately left so that you could refresh the scent of him on your sheets— even when he wasn’t there to hold you.

During the time you were together, you rarely ever used the cologne he had given you. Your bed at that point could have been considered as his bed; as he slept there almost every night, even more so than in his own bed.

He would always leave the sheets messy, snagging the blanket yet having it almost falling from the bed— only having a quarter of It clinging onto his body. His pillow somehow always ending up on the complete opposite side of the room, as he would always wander off and steal half of your pillow.

Sometimes his arm would end up smacking you across the face, or his leg would somehow deviate and kick you in the stomach. It makes you wonder if he was fighting someone in those dreams, or if he just sleeps like that. You never really had any leads on that, since his bed always came off untouched whenever you’d visit.

He was a horribly messy and fidgety sleeper. He had always struggled with sleeping at night due to his insomnia, which is one of the main reasons why he’d always end up at your door in the dead of night— his eyes miserably droopy, half-lidded and hazy.

You didn’t mind it, especially when you have all his limbs intertwined with yours.

And especially when you had the opportunity to wake up and bask in the sight of his messy hair, half-lidded and smiling as soon as you wake up.

Do not even get started on his morning voice.

He always claimed to have the 'best sleep of his life' whenever he woke up beside you, his beautifully wide smile an indication of the happiness he found in the comfort of your embrace. In which you’d respond with a drowsy half-smile, caressing his cheek and meeting your lips with his in a soft kiss.

Which was, almost always slightly off from his lips— can he blame you though? You did just wake up in the most atrociously early hours of the morning, (props to his weird sleep schedule) could he expect you to land a kiss properly when one of your eyes refuses to open?

But now, in the cold and lonely solitude of your room, your hands reaching out instinctively whenever you’d roll over to the left side of the bed. Fingertips searching and twitching in desperation for the warmth that they craved, for the familiar dips in his soft skin that your palms would fit into like a perfect puzzle piece.

The emptiness of the space beside you was only a constant reminder of his absence, while you reluctantly withdraw your arms in disappointment. Leaving you lying awake in your bed, your arms curling and hugging around your body in a sad, pathetic attempt of self-soothing yourself.

There was nothing else you could do but cry, wishing for the days when your bed was more than just yours.

…

How could you ever prove to him that you are doing much better now?

Especially when he haunts your memories like a ghost that merges through your body, freezing over through your skin and bones.

You knew you were doing horribly, there is nothing you could do to prove that you had at least one good thing happen to you since then. Because spoiler alert: there was absolutely nothing good in your life ever since he left.

A room that stands cold and lonely, sheets left prim and proper each morning and night— as you were unwilling to ever touch that side, he had claimed as his. Your empty pockets that seemed worthless as you had lived hand to mouth, the gold flying in and out in a flash. Your worrying mind that only had capabilities to drive you insane, flashing hurtful memories when you needed them the least.

It was as if he had taken a huge chunk of your person when he left, leaving you as an empty husk that lies awake waiting for it to be whole again.

You have been a rocky, inconsistent mess ever since then.

But who else wouldn’t be?

When at one point in your life, you completely and utterly believed in consistency and the steadfast, unchanging nature of your life.

Back when you were insistent that this familiar and comforting routine would at one point become so mundane that it would be effortlessly etched in your mind as your second nature.

You always imagined a life full of stability. One that remained the same until each day would blur together into one happy movie. You were once so ignorant and naïve, trapped in your own little bubble for so long.

Yet life is unforgiving and full of wrath.

You were always so deeply afraid of change, to the point that the slightest change in routine would drive you stupidly crazy. However, life is full of change. Which is why you hated every single second of your life since then.

Life had taken you out of the comfort zone that you had sworn you would never leave. It had picked you up, and threw you in the dark rainy alleyways in a wet cardboard box.

However, you aren’t immune to change either. So, as you stare back into his widened sapphire eyes, you instead wear a distant expression. You refused to be read like an open book and be lost in the endless maze of his mind.

You had refused to follow through with the habitual calling that begged your fingers to caress his face and kiss his lips sore. To push all your weight into him, using your lips to leave him breathless as a gentle threat to not die ever again.

You decided to change and break that routine.

You had no right to do it anymore anyways.

You aren’t that same person anymore, and sure as hell he wasn’t either.

You had completely lost any ownership you had over his heart— as the kingdom you had built in his mind brick by brick; had been left as a ghost town.

Instead, you stagger backwards— pushing against the floor to assist you as you stand up, leaving him staring from the floor. You bite your tongue, testing the limits of your patience.

Your hands clenching tightly onto the fabric of your bottoms, knuckles turning dangerously white. Each stagger, each breath seemed ragged and proved difficult. Walking away from someone was easier said than done, especially when you had to control your emotions to be able to keep your cool in front of your friends.

You walk away from him, each step feeling as though heavy weights are chained to your ankles, dragging you down with every movement. Your chest closes in, feeling eerily tight as you try to keep your chin up in desperation. You keep your eyes deliberately glued onto the floor, refusing to meet his burning gaze. Yet his presence lingers in your peripheral vision. Just like how he remains like a constant stain in your memories, a figure that refuses to fade away completely.

Kabru’s head whips around, his lips quivering and stuttering over inaudible words— his unwavering stare bearing holes into your back, a firm burning sensation as it left it’s tracks on your figure.

However, you were quite the opposite of gracefulness. As your determination to walk off to the other side of the hallway where his party members resided, has completely overestimated your confidence in your legs. You trip on some rubble in the concrete floor, staggering as you try to salvage your dignity and save yourself from the embarrassment.

It worked, for the most part.

You had managed to stay upright, just looked a little silly as your steps miserably stuttered across the floor. Does the fact that you continued to walk with confidence afterwards acting like nothing had happened, make it more embarrassing? To save yourself from running away and diving straight into the huge body of water, and being eaten by mermen alive… You just decided to brush it off.

You cough, sneaking a quick side-eye towards Kabru— who looked like he had just been born 5 seconds ago. His face was just enough for you to snicker slightly, but you quickly looked away and covered your mouth.

You are not slick. At all.

Kabru was staring at you in a dazed state, his ability to form thoughts and speak words seemed to have completely left him— It seemed as if he was completely convinced, he had just ascended to heaven and was seeing angels.

OR, he thinks he was dragged straight to hell to punish him for all of his sins.

…

You like to believe it was the first option.

If he even dared to think of the second option, you would’ve probably knocked his head off using your staff like a baseball bat. Might as well even get you to score a home run with how hard you would’ve smacked him across the face.

You clear your throat, as you had finally met face to face with the remaining party members. It was still a bit jarring to see them, but it was an easier impact than the absolute whiplash Kabru had given you.

They had all been busy awkwardly checking up on their items and brushing themselves off of dungeon debris. They were the unfortunate victims to the sudden tension in the air while you and Kabru had some weird staring contest.

Holm had been busy resting on the floor, waving at you eagerly as you stood in front of him.

Mickbell was still doing an inventory check, digging into all of their bags and checking their pockets. He seemed to have been agitated about something, maybe some lost items, you’re not too sure. Though, he doesn’t seem to be speaking up about it just yet. Kuro… was also inspecting around with Mickbell.

Daya and Rin, were… Actually, you’re not too interested in what they were doing, since they were just standing around.

“Is everyone doing alright? No major or minor injuries missed?” You wave, smiling gently at the party. Your eyes squinting slightly as it squishes upwards alongside your cheeks. Holm was the first to speak out from the bunch.

“Yup. Everyone’s been checked out by me, all good!” he exclaimed, adjusting his hat as he stood up. His demeanor was warm and completely unbothered, as if he had just completely chosen to ignore the odd tension in the air. Holm checked around his surroundings one more, his head whipping around from left to right. To his left, was his somewhat agitated party. And then to his right…

His gaze caught sight of Kabru lifting himself off from the ground, as he finally got into his senses. His motions swaying, somewhat like a drunkard that was about to hurl on the side of the street in the dead of night. Although hesitant, the armored male made slow and cautious steps to regroup with the rest of the crowd.

Holm smiled, almost bordering a smirk as his eyes closed in satisfaction. The pit in your stomach grew, feeling as if your intestines had been tied into a knot then proceeded to be used like a jump rope. You cough slightly, eyes steadily glued on the suspicious expression that the gnome had.

“Right. Yeah, yeah that’s— that good to hear.” You mumbled, your voice cracking slightly as you crumbled slowly under the sudden awkwardness. The sound of clanking armor filled your ears, making your demeanor shrink as the sound progressively grows nearer. Your gaze falling to the floor, your heart sinking as you stared at a different pair of boots in front of you— the metallic noise coming to a sudden halt.

The sound of gold rustling in a bag immediately caught your attention, causing you to raise your head up on reflex. Which was very embarrassing, to say the least. As it had just blatantly exposed you out on your poverty-stricken habits. However, life had just decided that you haven’t been humbled enough, so you start to realize that you were stuck in a web of bad luck until now.

‘Money is money….’ You thought, until your stare dragged upwards from the person’s hand to their face.

It was Kabru.

You should have realized the moment the metallic clinking stopped right in front of you.

Or when your eyes laid on brown boots.

Or when your eyes laid on armored hands.

Okay, well. You did realize it, but it did not prepare you at all for the sight you opened your eyes to. The shock of seeing him up so close, even though you had just touched his chest to be able to revive him—left you utterly disoriented. His face was centimeters away from yours, with his breath warm against your cheek. His eyes were stern, half-lidded as he spoke.

“…Thanks.” His voice was rough, with the delicious smoothness of his delivery. Again, it was only one word. But were you delirious over it? Absolutely.

His voice was only slightly louder than a whisper, which added onto the oddly sensual tension between you two. The sheer intensity of the moment was almost unbearable.

Actually…

It was very unbearable. You felt as though you might melt straight into the ground and become one with the dungeon cleaners right then and there. You were overwhelmed by the proximity and the flood of emotions brought in by his looming presence over you.

However, your determination to save your dignity overpowered all other emotions— as you use the top end of your staff to push against his plated chest. Kabru budged, somewhat reluctantly as he stepped backwards.

“Ah. No, it’s okay! I don’t need the money, just… Helping some old friends, y’know?” You muttered, smiling sheepishly. However, you had just lied straight through your teeth.

It would’ve been fine if you weren’t such a horrible liar. Especially when Kabru was the type of person who could easily pick up on them, with every right to hold you accountable for them.

He obviously didn’t buy it. Out of all the people in the world, he would be the least convinced whenever you would lie. Kabru held out the bag of gold once more, pushing it closer towards your chest. His smile was obviously strained, his eyes sleek like a sly fox. His expression was dangerous, you know he had just seen right through you.

God, he’s probably going to laugh about it later when he tries to sleep.

He’s going to use that information to comfort him and make him feel better about himself.

He’s going to be sad about the current situations in his life, but then he will use the fact that he knows you’re broke as shit; so that it could make him happier about his life.

“Just take it.”

“No.”

…

“Okay.”

That was it. His arm limped down to his side as he gave up, admitting to defeat. The gold clinking around in the bag, as you cried internally. You could basically see and hear the heftiness of that bag. With that payment alone, would’ve supplied more than a weeks’ worth of food. However, much like Kabru— you’re a pushover! You just can’t decide for yourself and no matter how much you wanted it, your mouth moves faster than the cogs in your brain.

You had completely dismissed the offer of a lifetime just to be polite.

You’re definitely going to cry about that later when you sleep.

So, you hide in a corner as you shuffle around the items in your bag— acting like you’re actively searching for something, in which you are not. You were just using the corner and the bag search so you could hide the face you were making, and the fact that you were on the verge of tears over a bag of money.

You take one big inhale, before clasping up your bag and throwing it over your arms and shoulders. As you were adjusting the straps, the bag seemed to grow slightly heavier on one side— with the familiar sound of gold coins clanking around in a drawstring bag.

You brush it off though, it’s probably just your mind messing with you (and desperately missing that bag of coins Kabru had offered you, to the point of hallucinating the sound it makes.)

Was it really a hallucination though? You’re not there to dwell on that thought.

-: ✧ :-゜・．

taglist ♡

@sy1v30n @whatamidoing89 @meerpea @pop-ee104 @starriejin @valerayne @mshope16 @stefnarda @lovin-past

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calxprince · 1 year ago

Text

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF.

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

📌 THE MASTERLIST. . . -: ✧ :-゜・．

# genre : angst, exes to lovers, post breakup, established relationship, angst with happy ending, eventual romance, hurt/no comfort, eventual slight smut

# warnings : follows anime plot, but doesn't ride off of the main storyline. will have explicit chapters, and some violent descriptions. Characters are slightly aged up for the sake of the storyline to match up

Relationships are prohibited within the party.

What a stupid rule. Or at least, you used to think it was.

Until you fell in love, then fell out of it after.

Okay, you didn't actually fall out of it. But you did end up breaking up.

But hey, 5 years isn't that long right? It's not too late to finally start moving on?

Fuck, you really wished you followed that rule. All you can do now is regret all of your actions 5 years ago, when you were dating him.

📌 CHAPTERS -: ✧ :-゜・．

# CHAPTER 1 : 5 years is barely enough time for someone to move on, right?

# CHAPTER 2 : Stupidity is the key to happiness, you were plenty stupid— just not happy.

# CHAPTER 3 : Do you picture me, like I picture you?

# CHAPTER 4 : Is it possible to hear your heart physically breaking?

you can track the story through the tag : love or the lack thereof calxprince!

# CHAPTER 5 : Someone He Loved Once.

# CHAPTER 6 ...

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calxprince · 1 year ago

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thank you all so much for the support on my kabru fanfic "Love, or The Lack Thereof" ! ! The third chapter is in the making right now.

I'm also taking note of those who ask to be tagged! so no worries, all your comments are noted : ) I really appreciate all of the comments!

you can also keep track of this story using the tag : "love or the lack thereof calxprince"! or read it on ao3

so... as a treat, i'll give a couple tidbits of my (not so serious) outline drafts! most of these are for the following chapters :)

no spoilers! just all for fun

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calxprince · 1 year ago

Text

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF (2)

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# Chapter 2 : Stupidity is The Key to Happiness. You were Plenty Stupid— Just Not Happy

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# notes : click here for the masterlist

4370 words

. . . in which god has just currently decided that you're going to be his strongest soldier today and give you his toughest battles, and you can't do shit about it.

I mean, who else wouldn't freak out after finally seeing their ex again? Especially when you only find him and his party as corpses lying on the cold dungeon floor, lined up like meat in the produce section. All stiff and mildly damp.

FUCK, HE’S STILL SO HANDSOME—no, perhaps even more so now? You feel a bead of sweat form as you bite down on the inside of your cheek, staring at Kabru’s unconscious body sprawled on the cold, concrete floor. He was ominously peaceful, with his eyelids closed and his hair messed up as it pushed against the wall. It dragged your heart by its heartstrings, bringing in strange wave of nostalgia.

You recall the messy sheets, his cheek pressed up against your pillows— the curls in his hair handsomely framing his face.

It was as if a prince had just stumbled into your home and fallen into a deep slumber in your dingy bed.

A familiar warmth crept up on your cheeks, followed by a small smile you couldn’t hold back. However, you took a fist straight to the middle of your chest— leaving you winded as you tried to punch away the looming melancholy feeling creeping up.

You decide to look in a different direction and drive your attention away. If you could withstand not seeing him for years, you can surely do it again this time.

Your eyes scan the rest of the party, and you notice an unfamiliar figure among them. Your hands unwittingly clench down on your staff— the natural grooves of the wood digging into your skin, bound to leave a significant indent into the palms of your hands. The sensation rivaling the gruesome battle in your mind, grieving the person you were before finding out. The mere presence of the stranger left a bitter taste in your mouth, turning a switch in your mind as you fell into a dangerous spiral.

It's just like they say, fuck around and find out.

And you have, in fact— fucked around and found out.

It was like a jagged, serrated dagger twisting around in an old wound; like a thousand needles had just poked you like a bad acupuncture therapy attempt. Your mouth felt dry, and each muscle and bone felt like it held up the weight of the heavens and sky itself. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t even run no matter how much you yearned to do so.

You start to consider showing up at the door of the Touden siblings, begging the sister to exorcise the bad spirit that was probably haunting you— cursing you with horrible luck.

You had spent thousands of nights tangled in the sticky spider web of your fears and doubts. About 1826 nights, to be exact (Maybe? You’re not sure). The thoughts of the future had been eagerly gnawing at your sanity, flooding your worrying mind with questions like:

‘Is he thinking of me right now? Does he even think about me anymore?’

‘Is he living a happier life without me?’

‘Has he replaced me already?’

It was that last question.

That stupid question that haunted your mind at least 5 times a day.

You already knew what the answer would probably be. You were completely and utterly convinced that it would be a breeze to handle if you were to find out and that you had moved on. which was the biggest and most delusional lie you had ever told yourself. But you don’t like to dwell on that thought much.

Being stupid was probably one of the keys to happiness, and you were plenty stupid— just not happy.

But God, no amount of dread and nail-biting anxiety could ever prepare you for the actual answer. The painful reality that just slaps you in the face stabs you at least 30 times in each of your vital organs— and completely shatters every bit of your almost non-existent hope.

It’s quite a reach, especially when the girl is literally lying unconscious on the floor unable to even move a finger. But she might as well have killed you at this point just doing absolutely nothing, with the amount of pain she’s putting you through— purely just due to her existence.

It was as if Thor had just thrown his hammer at you, digging into your toes with little to no hope of escape. No amount of desperate tugging could set you free. Who the hell even is Thor? You question, you shrug it off.

‘Ways to Get Back with Kabru—Idea number 25: Run back and work as their mage again if they still have a vacant spot… I better cross that out later.’

Maybe most questions should be left unanswered, you should’ve turned back 15 minutes ago. You should’ve run back up to the surface and continued to live your life in ignorant bliss. The naïve past seemed much kinder than the truth of the future.

There was a hazy, strange sense of satisfaction that hung over your heart. However, the painful drilling sensation in your stomach seemed to drown it out— the rising feeling of dread and regret filling like a thick liquid in your lungs that you can’t cough out.

With deliberate steps, you approach the unknown body, lowering yourself to kneel beside the new individual. She was beautiful, as much as you hated to admit it. You quickly tugged at your hair, pushing it out of the way of your eyes. Maybe to see better, maybe out of pure insecurity.

Your lips press into a thin line. She had slick, luscious black hair— you even start to consider asking her for her hair care routine after (which was stupid of you to think, so you flick that thought to the back of your mind.) Her sleek figure was complimented by her simple medium-length frayed red dress. Her facial structure made you guess that she came from the east, and her lack of other special features— she’s also a tall man.

You pout, squeezing your eyes tight as you feel the tight rope of jealousy tugging at your neck. Maybe, it would’ve been much easier to skim over the existence of your replacement if she hadn’t been so beautiful. Maybe if her face was full of warts, or maybe if she was a toad that you had picked up from the well in your house— the blow would’ve been less impactful.

Scratch that. The frogs that resided in the well were incredibly cute. But would Kabru know that she turned into a frog? You began to backtrack on that thought, fighting against the itch in your hand to start flipping through your grimoire to find a spell to turn people into frogs.

It had instructions on how to use a dog to harvest a singular mandrake, so why the hell wouldn’t it have a spell on turning people into frogs?

But then, you dwelled on the thought of the curse being able to be lifted by a kiss. The image of Kabru kissing a frog, in a complete fairytale-esque love story scene— it was enough for you to abandon the idea again.

He would be the type to do such a thing, even if he hated every minute of it.

He would probably even eat monsters out of pure righteousness and pushover people-pleaser politeness if someone asked him to—at least just a bite.

…

Maybe you should start putting those fairytale books down or donate them to the local village library, it would fix your problem of outrageous delusions.

So instead of planning your path to evil, you began wishing and praying to whatever god is currently listening to you— if there even is any.

‘Please, please, please. God, or… whoever is out there. I’d even accept it if the Mad Mage is the one tuning in. Please erase this girl from existence.’ You begged, but you felt a pang of guilt crash into your heart. You peek with one eye, staring at her peaceful face once again— You squeeze your eyes shut once more and re-clasped your hands together to reset your prayer. If that even works, it probably doesn’t…

‘Actually, disregard that… That was rude. Kind of. She probably doesn’t deserve it… Just please, don’t have any personal relationship with Kabru.’ You mutter under your breath, feeling a bit of the weight come off your shoulders. It was as if you had shooed away the annoying spirit haunting you with bad luck, or at least you had hoped you did.

Your hands pushed against your bent knees, assisting you as you stood back up. Which drives you into yet another dilemma. With the amount of writing and overthinking you had just done, you had completely forgotten that they were all lying dead on the floor.

You sulk by the wall, feeling the rocky surface leaving indents on your forehead. You curse at the wind. You were not God’s strongest soldier; he should not be giving you the toughest battles. You sigh, whittling down your options into 3.

You walk away from this place and run back to the surface. Possibly seek therapy and hit your head just enough times to forget whatever you had just discovered in this dungeon. Quit dungeon exploring to completely cut off all possibilities of ever encountering Kabru and his party ever again. Get a normal job and live your life in ignorant bliss.

2. You continue onwards but be sure to bless their corpses to ensure their safety until they get retrieved by the corpse revival company— or possibly scammed by that other resurrection company. Or maybe even saved by some other random guy somewhere, who knows? Leave strands of your hair around their wrists and spray your signature scent around them; fully aware that Kuro could sniff you out in mere seconds (which was the plan.) It leaves them knowing you were there but gives them the edge that you didn’t bother to help them, even though they know that you’re fully capable of doing so.

3. Be an idiot, who out of goodwill and righteousness— revives the party and allows you to make yourself known as the unfortunate victim and hero who had stumbled across them. This gives room to analyze and dissect the relationship between the new girl and Kabru, and even a chance to converse and interact with your old party. This may urge Kabru to be aware of your existence if he has already forgotten (you hope not). Make him bow down on his knees, head touching the floor as he begs you to join him and his party again.

And of course, you chose to be an idiot.

You had already made so many bad decisions for fate to put you in this position, so why don’t you push it to its limits? Plus, you had already been doing this whole revival business to earn gold by farming corpses of fallen adventurers within the higher levels. You don’t scam them at least.

You need to think this over first. You can’t revive everyone at once, even if you wish you did at this moment. You tuck your chin in between your index finger and thumb, carefully planning out how you can carry this out with a high success rate and a low rate of embarrassing yourself in front of your ex.

You couldn’t possibly revive Kabru first, since you’d have to swallow down the thick tension that forms in the air while he stares at you reviving the rest of his party. It would leave too much room for conversation (if there was any), and too little room for your swift escape. So, he’s reserved for last place for now.

The new girl… You should sandwich her in the middle. It’s best to revive someone you know first, so they don’t end up freaking out at your random appearance. But you can’t squeeze her right before Kabru, it’ll probably spawn some weird first impressions between the two of you. You’ll put someone else in between him and her, so she can just get the gist that you were just trying to help.

Holm should be first. He’s the calmer one of the party and is a lot closer to you than the rest of the party. It would be a bit weird seeing an old friend that suddenly ran out of your life and having them be the first thing you see after waking up… You have to clear that up with him if Kabru hadn’t already told him about what happened between the two of you. He would also probably help you with reviving, which will help you cut down on the time.

Mickbell will be revived right after, giving you a chance to calm him down before proceeding with the girl— who will probably ostracize you on the spot if he suddenly bursts into tears, or just makes a scene. Kuro… will be right after Mickbell, which will help you in the cause of calming him down.

Daya will be the unfortunate shield? Cushioning? Between Kabru and the girl. You were somewhat close to her, so she would probably understand your cause right away. She’s an innocent soul.

‘If he asks… I’ll just say I do it as a form of work.’ You whisper, kneeling towards Holm. You analyze his body, keeping a sharp eye out for any major injuries. You pick up his arm gently, holding it up in the air before letting it go— It falls limp.

‘He’s out cold…’ Your eyebrows furrow, making eager work of brushing off any bit of dust or debris off him. None of them seemed to have any weak soul bonds or missing limbs.

Your hand meets his chest, lying directly on top of his heart as you begin your ritual. You feel your mana coursing through your veins, like a cold shot of flowing water. Your fingertips felt a gentle tingle, like pins pricking them— enough to poke through the skin but not enough to draw blood.

Warmth spread through his body, feeling your heartbeat synch with his as it began to beat at a steady pace. Holm’s body staggers, as blood rushes through— his muscles moving on their own, just from pure muscle memory. As you felt his body heat return to normal healthy temperatures, your fingers eagerly swiped against his forehead. Your index finger is digging and pressing into the skin between his two eyebrows.

He woke up with a start, eyes wide and chest heaving. If he wasn’t already freaked out by his sudden consciousness, he was even more freaked out by your appearance. His jaw drops, gaze wavering as he looks at you as if you had just come back from the dead (even if he was the one that just did.)

You stare back at him, oblivious and aloof of the internal battles he is currently fighting in his mind. His mouth sputters, eager to voice out his mind— however, it lacks the voice, and the proper mind and muscle articulation.

“Are you okay?” you question, your tone drawn out and unsure. Your mind was currently reeling, as you slowly began to be filled with regret. Would he mind if you just ran away right now? You’re hesitant to engage in conversation with him, fully convinced that he is seconds away from lashing out at you.

”Y/N ? ? “ He shouted, his voice echoing around the entirety of the hollow dungeon floor. He slaps a hand over his mouth, coughing as he regains his composure. A feint pink dusted over his cheeks, embarrassed by his sudden outburst. You flinch slightly, squeezing your eyes for a second so you could brace yourself for whatever he was about to say.

Holm backtracks for a moment, leaning in towards you in a state of curiosity.

“Y/N .. ?” He whispered, questioning your existence. His voice filled with disbelief and wonder, secretly pinching himself as he pondered if this was a dream or not.

“It’s me.” You smile, a sense of warm familiarity filling your heart as you stare back at him. A quick rush of joy and excitement drowning out your worries, as you meet up with your old friend. You spread your arms out slightly, and he takes the opportunity to capture you in a tight embrace. It finally brought back that sense of belongingness as you reconnect together as friends, one that you had forgotten the feeling of.

You have grown accustomed to the fast pace of your life, meeting and seeing faces but never finding them again. Your fear of attachment only grew as a sense of loneliness was chained to your foot like a weight of punishment. You pass by thousands of faces, thousands of people who carry their heavy burdens and stories— Yet, you still live life alone.

“I thought I’d never see you again” He sighed, patting your back as he pulled away. You could read him like an open book, he was a simple person. You could feel a sudden rush of relief flow through him, as his worrying mind cleared within seconds. However, your sudden gleeful moment was interrupted when he suddenly punched you straight in the gut.

“Ack— !” He’s not much of a fighter, so it was weak— since he was mostly kidding. But he did go for a sensitive area, so you hunch over in pain.

“You’re such a dummy you know. You left without a word, and I haven’t seen you in five years. Five years! That’s half a decade!” He grumbled, judgmental as always. You rub the area he punched to soothe the pain, as you laugh dryly. However, his expression softens at the sight of you.

“I know… Hasn’t Kabru told you why?” You tilt your head, fixing up your posture. At this point, you’re on a self-sabotage spree. You should’ve probably kept that question unsaid, knowing that you’re just leading yourself into a whole new world of hurt by finding answers to questions that should be left unanswered.

“No… He only showed us your resignation paper, then never spoke of you ever again.” Holm pouted, rubbing down the back of his neck.

He never told them.

He never spoke of you again.

You were seconds away from curling up, falling to the floor, and dying right then and there. You had to hold back every cell in your body from begging Holm to bring out his undine and put you out of your sad, sad misery.

Your expression remained blank; your lips pursed as you tried to keep yourself from spiraling again. You practice a couple of breathing exercises, digging the nails of your fingers into the palm of your hand. It’s possibly not too late to turn back, Holm could probably handle all the resurrecting.

“Right… How did the rest of the party take it?” Your voice is drawn out, deciding to rip off yet another bandage off the wound. If the party didn’t react nicely to the news, you’d probably get chewed out immediately— just to confirm whether or not you should continue with your plan or run away.

“… Not that well. We basically stopped adventuring for a week straight, since Kabru completely locked himself up ever since then. We all kind of freaked out a bit, though— Kabru seemed to have sucked it up and gathered all of us up again to go mage hunting to complete our party. Mickbell was against replacing you and was somewhat insistent on dragging you back. But Kabru stopped him, he wasn’t mad per se— Just scary looking.”

Okay, you need to stop asking questions that could lead back to Kabru— noted.

“Anyways, what happened to you guys?” You changed the topic, gaze averting towards the huge body of water in the middle of the dungeon. You had noticed that their clothes were slightly damp, but you didn’t necessarily question it.

”As far as I remember, we got attacked by a bunch of violent mermen. Which is weird, given that it isn’t common for them to be near the surface of the water… It’s usually just bladefish.” He mumbled, deep in thought as he stared at the eerily now calm waters.

“Right… Would you be okay with helping me revive everyone? You can take..., the new girl and Kuro. I’ll take on Mickbell, Daya, and… Kabru.” You stared at him with pleading eyes, offering to take on the odd number of corpses— Just so you don’t drain him of his mana too fast since he had just recently come back to life.

“Oh… The new girl. Her name is Rin by the way, she’s a bit blunt and standoffish when it comes to new people. So don’t feel too offended when she criticizes you…” Holm smiles sheepishly, though agreeing to take on your offer. You spring up into a stand immediately, offering a hand towards him— which he eagerly accepts.

You both make your way to your respective assigned corpses— Though the speed at which you both were doing it made you feel more and more dread as time passed. Your mind was blurring together the current happenings, not truly processing the moment.

Mickbell wasted no time in shouting, punching your legs as if any form of violence would undo your long period of absence. You didn’t take any significant notes on what he said, as his actions only translated into an irritated cat that was begging for more food.

However, you ran your fingers through his hair— which ultimately silenced his aggressive yammering. You pat his head gently, just like you always would back then. His expression mellowed out, hugging your leg as he cursed your name in the wind. He doesn’t like being treated like a kid, but he lets you just this once.

He lets go of you (reluctantly), after realizing that everyone else was knocked unconscious. He stands off to the side, stretching out his limbs and doing a quick inventory check— just to steer clear out of your way.

Rin had been revived shortly after Mickbell was, which rendered her completely and utterly confused at your foreign appearance. As well as Mickbell’s sudden affectionate behavior and outburst. She stares back at Holm, slightly bewildered at the sight— the look on her face begging him for any sort of explanation.

Holm only explains your presence briefly, mentioning your closeness and familiar bond with the party. He doesn’t bother explaining your relationship with Kabru, saving you from any sort of random rivalry with her. Rin only hums in response, the gears in her mind turning as she analyzes you from afar.

She played with her hair, twirling it around as she stared. Completely oblivious of your brain-shattering nervousness as you realized she was awake.

You felt the need to flex or one-up her. You wanted to show her your sheer amount of power and give her an excellent first impression.

Was it to impress her? Was it to make her feel envy and Jealousy? You don’t know, probably both.

You’re still not sure about making her a friend or an enemy. So you decide to lean more into the friend category.

However, all thoughts of her quickly dissipated as your gaze met Kabru’s body on the floor. You tense up, realizing that there’s unfortunately no more escape from your demise. You try to cough up the thick sense of nervousness from your throat, as an insatiable itch begins to dance all over the inside of your body.

There was a sick sense of familiarity as you kneeled and placed a hesitant hand onto his chest. You felt a wave of nausea override all of your rational thoughts, as the palm of your hand seemed to fit that one area of his chest like a puzzle piece. Your expression turns soft, while your body stiffens, and you find it difficult to move. It left a sickly bitter taste in your mouth.

Being close to him like this, didn’t fill your heart with the same glee as you had fantasized. Instead, seeing him again made you feel immense amounts of dread— a seething anger igniting a long rope tied to a bomb of anger. As much as you had idolized him throughout the years, finally seeing him again made the coin flip over on the dirty side.

The reality settled in like getting hit by a car, the adrenaline carrying through before you crash. His face only made you feel pure unbridled rage, how dare he live his life and fall into a slumber as peaceful as this— when you spent thousands of sleepless nights all because of him.

You had never wished for a viler amount of karma towards anyone until now.

Your hand pushed down with more force than necessary, forcing out the mana flow as you healed him with pure negative thoughts buzzing around in your head. You felt yourself seeing red, as you felt his heart begin to beat to a steady rhythm.

That same soft and slow beat that would lull you to sleep each night. Once you had even promised him that there was no other music that even the greatest musician could compose— would compare to the sound of his beating heart.

You bite your tongue back from cursing his name out, taking a deep breath to brush off the suddenly blinding anger. ‘I need to give off a good impression.’ You mumble, relaxing your muscles and the scowl on your face.

Your hands hesitate to meet with his forehead, your touch fleeting as you push against the pressure point in his forehead. Your fingertips lightly intercepted with his hair— which made you confused on whether you wanted to run your fingers through it again or bash his face into the ground. Maybe both.

Your hand quickly leaves his face, eyes unwavering of its stare.

Usually, you would kiss his forehead instead of using the pressure point method. You blink away the unwarranted memory, watching as he stirs awake. You remain seated by his side, making sure to be there if ever he has any side effects that would come with his resurrection.

Kabru groans, rubbing his eyes away from sleep. However, he seemed to have woken up immediately as he recognized your scent. His eyes shot open, as his head snapped to turn towards you— which did not fail to scare you. As you suddenly lean backwards, completely flabbergasted by his current expression.

Kabru mumbles your name under his breath.

Oh fuck.

#kabru x reader #kabru dunmeshi x reader #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru dunmeshi #kabru delicious in dungeon #kabru of utaya #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #reader insert #thank you all for the love and support i will be exploding thank you #love or the lack thereof calxprince

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calxprince · 1 year ago

Text

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF ( 1 )

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# Chapter 1 ; 5 Years is Barely Enough Time for Someone to Move On, Right?

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# warnings : hurt no comfort in the first chapter

# spoiler warnings : none

# notes : purely an intro to the story. reader yammering about their life after the breakup. author is tired of the lack of kabru fanfiction and is tired of depending on cai

click here for the masterlist

1080 words

. . . in which relationships are prohibited within the party.

What a stupid rule. Or at least, you used to think it was. Until you fell in love, then fell out of it after.

Okay, you didn't actually fall out of it. But you did end up breaking up.

But hey, 5 years isn't that long right? It's not too late to start moving on?

Fuck. You really wished you followed that rule. All you can do now is regret all of your actions 5 years ago, when you were dating him.

RELATIONSHIPS WITHIN PARTIES WERE STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

You only started to understand why it was a rule, a golden standard across all parties.

It is fairly understandable that to have good chemistry with your party, you need to have close bonds with each of your members. You need to establish a strong relationship with your peers, to use all of your different abilities in perfect harmony.

However, indulging yourself in the greed of breaking through the barrier or being— just friends is a high risk. It could either make or break your party's chemistry. With intertwined heartstrings, that push and pull is always guaranteed to break those ties.

You groan at your stupidity, as you struggle to keep yourself afloat as a solo adventurer. Gold became scarce as you could barely afford your necessities, while the dungeon became harder and harder to explore— making treasures difficult to score. Lower levels were always a no-go, as you risk dying and being victim to a resurrection scam— draining you of all of your (miniscule) savings.

You used to be a party leader, determined to lead your beloved team to victory. However, strangers turn into friends— friends into close friends, and suddenly... Lovers. Life back then was simple, laughing at the stupidity of the rule ' no dating within the party! '. I mean, what's so wrong about being happy?

Your power, and his expertise with the blade— back to back, you two were unstoppable.

But could it have lasted forever? You ask yourself over and over— to the point of days becoming weeks, becoming months.

It's all become a blur.

Wake up. Enter the Dungeon. Explore the Dungeon. Go Home. Sleep. Repeat.

It's been 5 years since you broke up with Kabru. Actually— 5 years since you've seen his face. However, it doesn't change a thing. You have had his face memorized in the back of your mind since the day you both met; each angle and curvature of his jaw, the exact hue and saturation of his eyes, each curl in the sea of his dark hair.

You could never forget the way his eyes would soften as he looked at you, his lips curling into a gentle smile. He made you feel warm, like— a bowl of hot soup that your mom made you on a rainy day kind of warm. The way he never fails to be impressed by you, no matter how many times he'd seen your magic.

Sometimes, he'd try to get a little scratch during battle just so he could get healed by you again.

So what if the other members were fatally bleeding and were on the verge of death? He has a 'potentially life-threatening paper cut' and is in need of assistance.

Does it hurt more to remember, than to forget?

... You're not sure.

Remembering only brings fear—the fear of being forever perceived as the person you used to be, and will never be remembered as the person you are now. Change is inevitable, but you never really know if it it changes for the better or the worse.

You've been avoiding ever exploring more than half of the village ever since that day.

He's made his imprint in your mind, where that one bakeshop was not just any normal bakeshop— it was the one he'd eagerly line up at each morning, just so he could bring you your favorite treat.

God, you can't even stand the smell of it in the air anymore.

You couldn't get yourself to go to that one tavern, since it wasn't just any normal tavern anymore— it was his favorite tavern. The one tavern that he introduced you to, where they sold the best quality of your favorite drink.

He had hunted down every saloon and tavern in the village, just to pin one down because he knew you would love it.

And he loved it because you loved it.

It was also the place where you got absolutely wasted. Where you accidentally gave him the sloppiest, most passionate liquor-flavored kiss ever.

Where you couldn't stop the drunken slur of words that poured out of your mouth like a waterfall of alcohol, accidentally telling him you loved him.

It's a never-ending spiral of having to give up your favorite things, mostly because the reason why they were your favorite— was because of him. Because he had taken the time to get to know you, and noted down every single thing about you in every nook and cranny of his mind— your favorite scent, the shampoo you use, the distinct hop in your step.

That man knew you inside and out as if he had just completely dissected you in his mind. His beautiful mind. The mind that knew the second your mood shifted, the one that always takes note of your subtle hints.

And without him, everything seemed tasteless. Like your favorite freshly baked bread in the morning— it suddenly felt like eating clay that you had just dug up from the side of a creek. Like a bland porridge that was bordering a lukewarm temperature.

You sit there, pondering what could've been.

What would life be like if he never left?

Would he still be lying beneath your covers, his face buried in the crook of your neck while whispering promises?

Would he be sitting on your couch, folding your shared laundry— while you cook yourselves a shared dinner?

Would he be begging you to use your magic on him again? Would you be there healing his wounds after a long day, while he begs for another kiss?

Would he be there to kiss your lips again— holding you like a glass rose that could shatter beneath his fingertips?

...

You still love him.

You can't deny it.

However, 5 years is enough for him to hire a new mage.

5 years would've been enough for him to move on to bigger things— bigger ambitions.

bigger dreams than the ones he had with you.

You needed longer than 5 years. Maybe one day you'd be able to meet him eye to eye, without the dread and the fear.

But today was not that day.

But today was the day god decided to test you. (as if he hasn't put you through enough, dragging you from hell and back.)

He decided to test your patience, your resilience, and all of the above.

I mean, who else wouldn't freak out after seeing your ex and your ex-party members lying dead on the ground?

... Especially when they're all weirdly lined up on the concrete floor of the dungeon.

#dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #kabru x reader #kabru dunmeshi x reader #dunegon meshi #dunmeshi #kabru dunmeshi #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru of utaya #kabru delicious in dungeon #author is so deprived of kabru fanfictions that they decided to crawl out of their cave and write their own #love or the lack thereof calxprince

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